They only desire to secure choice locations, sell out their improvements at from $20 to $30, and give up their pretended claims; or else to get up a ‘city,’ sell lots, and amass a small fortune out of its proceeds by auction sale at Winnipeg.”
One of these squatters was D. H. Adamson, who had family banking connections in Winnipeg. It was to his hastily built shack on Section 23 that General Rosser proceeded in early May after his abortive attempts to buy up a station site at Grand Valley. Adamson, however, had little claim to the land. First, he had not registered title to it, and second, all odd-numbered sections were closed to homesteaders anyway; they could be purchased but they could not be homesteaded. Late in April, the most astute real estate man in the North West, Arthur Wellington Ross, arrived on the scene apparently on the railway’s behalf, or at least with the knowledge of its Winnipeg officials, and proceeded to wangle the land away from Adamson. It is doubtful if Adamson had inside knowledge of the railway route; Ross certainly did. Ross was to become one of the most powerful figures in the approaching land boom; he would make and lose an immense fortune in the space of two years. On April 27 he made an agreement with Adamson whereby he would secure title to the land and Adamson would retain a one-seventh interest. Ross secured the title on May 9 and sold the property, which was to become the centre of the city ofBrandon, on May 30 to A. B. Stickney, acting for the CPR . The price was $2,560; Adamson got $350. On the same day, Ross’s firm was advertising lots for sale in the new community.
One of the squatters mentioned in the press was Joseph Woodworth, a hearty man with black side whiskers and a flowing moustache, “a great mixer and free spender” and an influential Nova Scotia Conservative. Wood worth and his brother D. B., a former Nova Scotia M.P.P ., took the even-numbered section, Number 24, adjoining Adamson’s and were careful to secure title to it in March and April. It was one of more than twenty properties that they had taken a chance on. Woodworth, whom Charles Reay referred to as “a discredited politician” and the Liberal Free Press called “a Conservative adventurer,” went personally to Ottawa in May to have his homestead confirmed. As the Free Press predicted, his “grab game” was endorsed by the government (“… what could commend a man more to Sir Charles Tupper than utter unscrupulousness and confirmed shamelessness?”), possibly because of his political connections but also, no doubt, because he had been careful to plough and seed thirty acres in conformity with the homestead act. In July, Woodworth divided the property into lots and sold several to General Rosser for twenty thousand dollars. Rosser, it is said, turned them over at a profit of ten thousand. Woodworth eventually made two hundred thousand dollars from his property and “cheerfully confessed his wealth.” In his expensive sealskin coat he swiftly became a familiar and popular figure in the town. He ran for mayor and was defeated but went on to oust J. W. Sifton, the Liberal railway contractor, in the forthcoming Manitoba provincial election.
Woodworth was prescient enough to give away free land for schools, churches, and public buildings. Beecham Trotter, who knew him well, recalled that “he had his own ideas of how to give a dollar so as to get three. It was that sentiment, rather than a passion for incorruptible justice, which led him to give a free site for the court house.… He believed the court house would attract the lawyers to its neighbourhood as their residential district. Where lawyers flocked, he thought, other rich men would flow, and the price of lots would rise.” The lawyers would include the two sons of his political rival Sifton, who set up a law office in the new town and laid the base for two outstanding political careers.
Brandon’s beginnings can be traced to May 9,
One of these squatters was D. H. Adamson, who had family banking connections in Winnipeg. It was to his hastily built shack on Section 23 that General Rosser proceeded in early May after his abortive attempts to buy up a station site at Grand Valley. Adamson, however, had little claim to the land. First, he had not registered title to it, and second, all odd-numbered sections were closed to homesteaders anyway; they could be purchased but they could not be homesteaded. Late in April, the most astute real estate man in the North West, Arthur Wellington Ross, arrived on the scene apparently on the railway’s behalf, or at least with the knowledge of its Winnipeg officials, and proceeded to wangle the land away from Adamson. It is doubtful if Adamson had inside knowledge of the railway route; Ross certainly did. Ross was to become one of the most powerful figures in the approaching land boom; he would make and lose an immense fortune in the space of two years. On April 27 he made an agreement with Adamson whereby he would secure title to the land and Adamson would retain a one-seventh interest. Ross secured the title on May 9 and sold the property, which was to become the centre of the city ofBrandon, on May 30 to A. B. Stickney, acting for the CPR . The price was $2,560; Adamson got $350. On the same day, Ross’s firm was advertising lots for sale in the new community.
One of the squatters mentioned in the press was Joseph Woodworth, a hearty man with black side whiskers and a flowing moustache, “a great mixer and free spender” and an influential Nova Scotia Conservative. Wood worth and his brother D. B., a former Nova Scotia M.P.P ., took the even-numbered section, Number 24, adjoining Adamson’s and were careful to secure title to it in March and April. It was one of more than twenty properties that they had taken a chance on. Woodworth, whom Charles Reay referred to as “a discredited politician” and the Liberal Free Press called “a Conservative adventurer,” went personally to Ottawa in May to have his homestead confirmed. As the Free Press predicted, his “grab game” was endorsed by the government (“… what could commend a man more to Sir Charles Tupper than utter unscrupulousness and confirmed shamelessness?”), possibly because of his political connections but also, no doubt, because he had been careful to plough and seed thirty acres in conformity with the homestead act. In July, Woodworth divided the property into lots and sold several to General Rosser for twenty thousand dollars. Rosser, it is said, turned them over at a profit of ten thousand. Woodworth eventually made two hundred thousand dollars from his property and “cheerfully confessed his wealth.” In his expensive sealskin coat he swiftly became a familiar and popular figure in the town. He ran for mayor and was defeated but went on to oust J. W. Sifton, the Liberal railway contractor, in the forthcoming Manitoba provincial election.
Woodworth was prescient enough to give away free land for schools, churches, and public buildings. Beecham Trotter, who knew him well, recalled that “he had his own ideas of how to give a dollar so as to get three. It was that sentiment, rather than a passion for incorruptible justice, which led him to give a free site for the court house.… He believed the court house would attract the lawyers to its neighbourhood as their residential district. Where lawyers flocked, he thought, other rich men would flow, and the price of lots would rise.” The lawyers would include the two sons of his political rival Sifton, who set up a law office in the new town and laid the base for two outstanding political careers.
Brandon’s beginnings can be traced to May 9,
Similar Books
