Visitors to Cannington Manor were transported back in time to a slower, gentler pace of living, at the Cannington Fair on July 31. At the entrance to the provincial park, a young lady in period costume was stopping cars and speaking with drivers, giving them information on parking and handing out an envelope to facilitate payment of the modest entry fee.
After parking, and leaving the cars in the background, it was a gradual transition into the spirit of pioneer days. At the Le Mesurier house, a young man was showing furs to a small group of visitors, and the open door beckoned the curious into a two-story building that provided both shade from the scorching sun and an interlude from 2011.
A horse-drawn wagon was making its way up and down the gravel lane, frequently stopping to allow people to get on and off. Sitting underneath the canopy, looking forward at the sight of two beautiful horses plodding slowly in front, listening to the sound of their hooves on the gravel, it was easy to imagine the past infringing on the present.
Cannington Manor, that most English of pioneering experiments, that saw settlers in the 1880s attempting to establish and maintain the social customs of Victorian England, on the prairie of the western frontier. Despite their efforts, the village had already been abandoned by 1900.
But the dream that was Cannington Manor has never been forgotten. It holds a certain romanticism that seems to grow with the passing of time. The stories are still recounted of wealthy parents who sent their sometimes unworthy sons to Cannigton, hoping the experience would make worthy men out of their privileged offspring. It didn't, they preferred to race horses and party, and they were ill-prepared for Canadian winters.
There's not much left of Cannington Manor these days, but there is enough to stir the imagination. Further up the lane from the Le Mesurier House, on the opposite side of the road, there are two buildings that draw a lot of attention. Back in 1889, Joseph and Elizabeth Newman arrived at Cannington from Ontario. The two buildings sitting together are their shack, and his carpenter's shop. In the shop lie the typical tools of his trade, old drills, hammers, planes. And round the walls are projects in various stages of completion, from barrels to caskets. The house itself is impeccably representative of the era. A large wood burning stove dominates the centre of the single room, the walls are papered, and the furnishings shout loud echoes of the past at every glance.
Outside, Sarah Schafer was busy demonstrating to children, and their parents, the long-gone art of washing clothes with a washboard in a barrel of water. Young Lyssa Strilaeff from Weyburn tried her hand at it, watched by her even younger sister Rya. For older visitors, perhaps several generations removed from these children, the washboard brought back memories of watching grandparents using this simple tool in earnest.
Moving across the lane again, a young girl was coming out of the blacksmith shop. Did she even know what a blacksmith was? That was a question easy to ponder, given the none-too-gradual demise of so many traditional trades over the last half century. The shop was once the workplace of Hume Robertson who had been convinced to act as Cannington's blacksmith in 1885. In the heat of July 31, it was a minor stretch of the imagination to visualize the building hot and oppressive with the heat of the forge, accompanied by the steady clinking of hammers upon the anvil.
Further east, between Robertson's shop and All Saints Anglican Church, a fairly large group of people were watching an instructional cricket game in progress. While the throws were not representative of the real game, and players swung at the ball as if they were playing baseball, Alison Nagy from Regina was doing a good job of passing on some of the rudiments of this English pastime. There were shouts of encouragement from spectators, and sometimes looks of confusion on the faces of the players, but somehow it seemed to be a fitting activity with the church in the background.
Beside the church, people were sitting in chairs listening to music. Local artist Michelle Amy was playing the keyboard, accompanied by musicians who were in the area to participate in the Kenosee Kitchen Party. The sound of their music drifted across the tranquil scene, as tea and dainties were served to thirsty patrons, and nearby balloons were being inflated for children.
Dominating the area is the church, just as prominent now as it was over 120 years ago when it was erected in 1884. Recent renovations have made the interior look beautiful, and inside the building, Wes Palendat from Wawota, was busy sharing the history and heritage of the grand structure, the second oldest Anglican Church in the province. Some people stood around him, listening intently, asking a few questions. Others sat in pews, alone in their thoughts, and still others walked respectfully through the church, taking in the sights of an historic place of worship.
Moving further east, the last building to visit was Maltby House. Impressive for its time, the two story house befitted the status of the fourth partner in the Moose Mountain Trading Company back in the 1880s. Ernest Maltby was also the local Post Master, and he married Mary Humphrys in 1892. At that time the house had been expanded from its original dimensions, and it became their home until they later moved to Manor. Inside the building, the visitors were greeted by simple elegance, and somewhat amazed at the spaciousness of the large, open plan bedroom upstairs.
For those who wanted more information, the visitor centre was open for the day. Large photographs and mementoes of the bygone age, told the story of the grand intentions of Edward Pierce, who acted as spokesman and leader of the district. The settlers had high hopes for their town, and it was given a fair try to succeed. However, hopes were dashed when the promised railroad was directed 16 kilometres to the south, and the settlement could not remain economically viable.
Cannington Manor stands as a testament to the pioneering vision of 1880s nobility living well in Canada for the price of paying taxes back home in Britain. It was a fine notion and a glorious experiment. For visitors to the gentle entertainment and peacefulness of the fair, it presents a bittersweet moment; bringing to mind the question of what Cannington would have been, had the railroad come to town as envisioned. We will never know, but as surely as the pioneers dreamed their dreams, so also can today's visitors dream about what might have been.
