I Shall Return

This is silly, but when we took Power and Sail Squadron courses a decade ago, one subject that was drilled into our land-lubber heads was 'aids to navigation.' Good thing too, as one's safety, and the pristine condition of one's hull, depended on it. One mnemonic which sticks in my mind is 'red-right-returning.' The learning is that going upstream, returning to a harbour, the red channel marker is on your right.

The example at left is the entry to the lovely Trent Port Marina, in Trenton.

So this red/green tension hit me, when I looked at my photo below. This is another place I intend to return to. The day's fading light, biting wind off the harbour, and my need for that street tree to sport bright green all guarantee that. That, and my abiding curiosity about the place.

This is the Prince George Hotel, at 200 Ontario Street in Kingston. I vaguely recall that the first time we saw it, it was part of a movie shoot, playing the role of a New Orleans Hotel.

Historic Places provides copious detail on its appeal: "pre-1850 limestone commercial buildings integrated into a Second Empire mansard-roofed style hotel."The components range from a house built 1817-20 to a Victorian commercial terrace. Nice ashlar stone and quoins on the facade.

Streetview will have to stand in for  now. As you travel along the front, and up Market Street beside City Hall, you can detect the separate structures that were united into the whole that is the Prince George Hotel.

The hotel is featured as an example of Kingston's heritage renaissance in this Historic Places article.

One of the nicest things about the hotel is Tir Nan Og Irish pub.  Scroll down their Facebook page for some great Irish entertainment. And the menu ("elevated pub fare") is good too. My go-to is the chicken tikka masala boxty.

Soon as that tree at the intersection turns green...

Grand Tour

Not long ago, a regular Ancestral Roofs visitor dropped a line, asking permission to use a photo. She painted a lovely picture of her breakfast-time enjoyment of the blog. It's a kind and generous post that I shall return to whenever I become discouraged about the value of journalling in public.

In the course of our email conversations,  Marianne mentioned that she is a writer (of considerable stature, it turns out: biography historical fiction, natural history...) Last year she collaborated with her brother Gerard to create this toothsome book about the Grand River. Marianne's descriptive prose and Gerard's exquisite wood engravings (a medium I greatly admire) have created a wonderful book. It's published by Porcupine's Quill press, and is a lovely thing indeed.

The Grand River : Dundalk to Lake Erie now sits on my reading bench, a gift from Marianne. Its very presence seems to emanate an invitation to the Grand River country that I must heed before long.

The introduction describes their collaboration - she on the bank, looking and listening, he sketching, perched on a shooting stick at the edge of the river, an image as timeless as the river itself. An Alice in Wonderland Victorian summer afternoon.

Marianne and Gerard take the reader to towns, villages and wild places, their commonality being their link to the river. Places like Fergus, Elora and West Montrose, which we've visited over the years, are all now linked in my memory. At the times we toured, we admired rock-rushing water from picturesque bridges, or hiked along summer-warm trails, our views of the river episodic, fragmented, our main pleasure, the company of our friends.

The book recalls for me walks along the gorge and dinners at the Elora mill with La and Doug, or wanders through Fergus streets meandering like the river itself.


















I remember a time in the mid-1980s when we treated ourselves to a 'stay' at the Elora Mill Inn, marvelling at the perfect Century Home decor. Glad we did it then. I had a quick look online to see how the inn was progressing, and found this link to a development which, well frankly, doesn't have the charm I recall.

Other lovely spots Marianne and Gerard visit in the book include the historically significant covered bridge at West Montrose, the only remaining covered bridge in the province, built in 1881 by two brothers John and Benjamin Bear. Thanks to the wonders of Google Streetview, you can view the bridge on a bright spring day, read the OHT plaque, and even drive through, maybe grabbing a kiss in the shadows, en route. The Historic Places website provides an aerial view.

The bridge has undergone a number of refurbishments, and replacements of elements, bringing up the delicious Theseus' Paradox. Here's a strident but concise introduction of this philosophical problem.

An idea is forming in my head...a road trip in May, bed and breakfast accommodation, and a visit to Paris in the springtime. Stratford, Doon, return stops in Fergus and Elora, riverside walks along the Grand, and a chance to meet these fine and talented folks. That thought should get me through a dreary February afternoon.

In the meantime, if heritage rivers and the people who value them are your kinds of people, consider purchasing this lovely lovely book. It's available through Amazon, although picking it up at an independent bookseller in a village along the Grand River would be much more fitting. Enjoy.

Calling Card

Victorian visiting etiquette.
I've learned a bit about the formalities, and about many other aspects of Victorian life, during my volunteer years at Glanmore National Historic Site.
The lives of Victorian society ladies revolved around 'visiting.' Each lady would have her day to be 'at home' for other ladies to arrive for tea and dainties, consumed while attired in hat and gloves, sitting on the edge of their seats, bolt upright in corsetted and bustled elegance.

even Americans visited

On days when one just dropped in, one offered a visiting card to the maid who answered the door, and waited in the reception room to see if herself might be at home, and deign to pop down for a chat. If not, the card would be left on a tray in the hall, for later action.

These lovely mementos are part of a collection of visiting cards and post cards I received from our Pierce grandmother.


Their purpose is to announce our visit to Camden East last week and our intention to return, when the weather is more hospitable, for a walk down Queen Victoria Street to have a closer look at its lovely Second Empire home, and right to the end to this lovely skeletal barn with its brave little roof lantern.

Have I mentioned that Frontenac County is my new favourite place?

Steep Hill? You Bet

Lincoln Cathedral is visible from everywhere

Pretty much daily, I make up my mind to cancel my Facebook account, to stop the daily flood of disturbing news feeds and other wrongs over which I have no control. But then, news of a friend's accomplishments, or a nostalgic photograph or inspirational quote pops up, and I resolve to remain. For now.

I belong to several vintage groups, and appreciate the gems they share with the world. The Vintage News is fun. Just recently they posted a list of the the most picturesque and well preserved medieval streets in England. An invitation for a wander. And  happily, I had walked one of them,  my film camera in hand, in Den's home town of Lincoln. Back in 1987. Here are a few freshly-scanned views of Steep Hill.

Steep Hill, aptly named

where himself took guitar lessons as a boy

Lincoln, or Lindum Colonia, was a Roman town by the year 50; it became a retirement centre for Roman soldiers. As we wandered the steets on our several visits over 'ome, we spotted archeological diggings going on below street level, the work accessed by ladders down from street level. Truly, layers of history. The straight road from Lincoln to London was built over a Roman road. Here's a link if you want to see more.

The Jew's House - the oldest inhabited stone house in England

William the Conqueror ordered the building of the Cathedral and Castle.The exquisite Lincoln cathedral with its Norman front was consecrated in 1092

Makes Ontario settlement history seem like a very short story, indeed.

Corner Sweet

The architecture classic The Old Stones of Kingston (Margaret Angus, U of T Press, 1966) contains a fascinating account of three commercial buildings built in the city in the optimistic 1840s, when Kingston was the capital (briefly) of the new United Province of Canada. The Province of Canada existed from 1841 until the Fathers managed to get everyone to join up in 1867.

The naming of the capital at Kingston led to a building boom of impressive civic and commercial buildings befitting a capital city, and a spate of fine stone double houses and terraces, providing rental accommodation for the burgeoning population.

George Browne's City Hall

The best example of this "we'll grow into it" architecture is Kingston's City Hall, designed by George Browne. More on that another time.

Browne designed three dressed for success commercial buildings in that 1841-43 flutter, distinguished by a common feature - a curved corner.  The building I'm enjoying today (and would have enjoyed more last Friday were it not for the damp wind) is the Commercial Mart (although that name doesn't get bandied about today.) The building started small, a house and store built in 1820; it was owned by merchant and developer Charles Hales from 1837-9, when he moved to his new place, Bellevue House.

Hale's Cottages

Hale's Bellevue House, garden view

The building continued to grow (I love finding these bits of house history; we have a tendency to think a structure "was always like this") with two more house plus store additions. Fortunately, the new sections continued the rhythm of arches and string course.The attic storey with pedimented dormers was a later addition.

randomly coursed rubble, ashlar facing

north end, good restaurant bar

The building housed the Weber and Wormworth piano factory in the 1860s; after WWII, Federal Government offices and warehouses.  The Commercial Building was home to S&R Department store from 1959 - 2009 - the faded Smith and Robinson Building signage is still visible above the entrance.

 A 2011/12 refurbishment has improved the venerable building's chances of survival.

 Frontenac Heritage Founation toured the newly refurbished building in 2013; here are some photos.

The gorgeous lobby of the building, home to accountants' and lawyers' offices and  Milestones Restaurant, displays historic photos and building history. Milestones' window seats are a great place to eat, drink and watch Kingston go by.

Of course, Don Cherry had hoped for a hockey museum there.






Here's the S&R building website.

S&R Building, January 2017

Incidentally, some of these photos were taken on a previous visit (when there were leaves.) This visit, I appreciated the view from the warmth of Peter's Place restaurant, a toasted western with chips and gravy respite from the steady diet of snails in sriracha butter,  roasted octopus or pickled eggs with kimchi or polpette of rabbit on offer in Kingston's many trendier spots.

To close, here's a Streetview view of George Browne's other round-cornered building, Wilson's Buildings, built in 1842. Some changes, but much remains. The same cannot be said of the third in the set, Mowat's round corner building of shops and residences, built 1841. It stood at the corner of Princess and Bagot and was demolished in 1974. Those banks again.

There once was a....

Ah, you remember. Limericks.

Bits of doggerel, appealing for their particular rhyming pattern and rhythm. Anyone could write them. Bit of fun.

Limerick township in the country north of Belleville, recounts stories with less levity that its name implies. In fact Limerick County was one of the areas settled by Irish immigrants, driven by famine, hunger and despicable landlords, and the appeal of land of their own. Here's a comment I found by wealthy Irish landowner Francis Spaight to give a bit of perspective on the social engineering at play: "I found so great an advantage of getting rid of the pauper population on my own property that I made every exertion to remove them...I consider the failure of the potato crop to be the greatest possible in one respect in enabling us to carry out the emigration system." (Wikipedia)

Fortunately, these folk had grit and turned this dreadful period of history into a time of growth for our own county - and province. Peterborough is one such fortunate host of the refugees.

Drinkwater-McGeachie cottage, Steenburg Lake

Limerick Township and Area History Bits is one of the best sources of information about this fascinating township. Catharine Vallieres has assembled a wonderful collection of personal recollections and anecdotes of early life in this township. Settling. Logging. Farming. Mining. The families of Murphy's Corners, Steenburg, The Ridge, Canniff's Mill, Rathbun, Ham's Corners and Greenbush.

photo courtesy D. Golem

Could have used this wonderful book when I travelled the Old Hastings Road last fall, from Millbridge to Ormsby and Ormsby to Maynooth.





It was fun to revisit Steenburg Lake, and the McGeachie Conservation area. I first visited there a few years ago in the company of area booster Reeve Dave Golem, working on an article for Country Roads magazine. In company with this delightful book, I shall make plans to return.

New Lamps for Old

Remember that line from the story of Aladdin? A nefarious sorcerer tricks Aladdin's wife into exchanging their battered old magic lamp for a shiny new one - with no magical powers.

I think I've painted myself into the proverbial corner, attempting to create a parallel with a situation I have recently sleuthed out on Princess Street in Kingston.

But you be the judge.

parapet wall on gable end, stone corbel

 Here's the story.

 During our last couple of visits to Kingston's wonderful old downtown, my guy and I have attempted to figure out a new/old building being constructed on Princess Street.

We've wondered about the build, pondering what was there, as you do when a tree is suddenly absent from the landscape, and you feel the loss, ashamed that you didn't properly appreciate it when it was standing.

The before picture used to be available on Streetview, sadly the site was updated in 2018 to capture this new Streetview; the address is 101 to 109 Princess Street.  So now you're oriented. A photo of the demolition in progress used to be available, Gone too. Revisionist architectural history.

What's taking shape is a three storey stone building, steel frame construction, its form not dissimilar to others on the heritage-rich street. But the stone is puzzling. Is it old stone, cleaned? It's so crisp and cold compared to the rich old limestone nearby. But many of those date from the 1830s and the years would add patina, wouldn't they? Denis checked out the stone carefully last visit, peering through gaps in the plywood hoarding protecting us passersby. Dark grey stone building, pick faced in appearance, regularly coursed. Quoins with 'tooling', but I can't tell...might it be concrete? Hip roof shaping up. Windows look odd. Flat arches over segmentally arched windows - only two lights? Looks like a modern glass facade taking shape on the ground floor.

Kingston readers will be laughing up their sleeves by now, as they know the whole story.

What finally drove me online, checking out newspaper articles about the property, the heritage debate, the new building, was seeing it from a new vantage point at the corner of Wellington Street, fresh from admiring parapet walls of several early buildings. On the roof I noted bright new lumber being formed into the unmistakable shape of parapet walls. Or pretend ones.

Here's a definition of a parapet, by the inestimable Peter John Stokes in the very useful glossary (because the memory isn't what it used to be) of The Settler's Dream: the extension of a wall above the roof line, usually at the gable end.

Fire was a clear and present danger (always wanted to use that quote) in early c19 towns. Shingled roofs, flammable sources of heat and light, wood construction, stables filled with hay...fires were inevitable.

At some point, most towns enacted regulations requiring fireproof walls between town buildings, extending far enough above the roof-line to reduce the chances of fires spreading across roof-tops.

Above, with the lilacs, is a lovely example...I'm wondering if the end window might have been a temporary indulgence, as the owners waited for someone to build next door...or a happy add-in when that became unlikely. The other photos in this post are parapet walls in various Kingston locations.

the delightful Pan Chancho building

Here, as they say, is the rest of the story. Turns out this location has been the focus of a heritage debate for some time. Here's the short story. At issue is a grouping of  early c19 stone buildings, covered in an ill-conceived 1960s/70s modernization, using stucco and countless nails which destroyed the stone, preventing it from being reused. And a bank that wanted the site.

Most links with stories about the debate have gone dark, and I've removed them.

Fortunately, these few remain active.

Here is the story of the decision, a regular Sophie's choice.

If you are a real heritage terrier, here are the Municipal Heritage Committee discussions.

I'm not alone in mourning the loss. Here's an interview with the president of the Kingston Heritage Foundation, an organization to which I belong, and whose work I salute.

So. Only one question remains. New and shiny? Or old and magic?