The east end of Barrie, with its high hills and breathtaking views of Kempenfelt Bay, became an enclave of sorts for the well moneyed in the 19th century.
A number of the stately homes that once comfortably housed judges, barristers, bankers and businessmen still remain. Others, like Abbeyleix on St. Vincent Street, are long gone.
In most cases, the lives of the prominent people who owned these grand homes are well documented. Their stories can easily be traced through newspapers, biographies, books, photographs and paintings.
What of the other household members, the staff? It is not often the lives, or even the names, of the estate workers are known. Mostly, they toiled in anonymity.
When Sir James Gowan died at his mansion, Ardraven, in 1909, he provided for some of his long-serving staff in his will. Mary McMillan and Richard Bidwell got $1,000 each, and Edith Horn received $100.
If not for the printing of Gowan’s will, in its entirety, in the Northern Advance, we would likely never have known the names of these staff members.
I consider myself fortunate, then, that I was recently contacted by the descendant of an Abbeyleix estate worker. Sharon and her cousin, Greg, are the keepers of their family history and are proud of the work done by their grandfather and his co-workers at Abbeyleix.
No big manor house could function without an extensive support network of staff. Gamekeepers, deer stalkers, chauffeurs, domestic servants, butlers, nannies and cooks are the stuff of British period dramas, but they were once an integral real-life part of keeping moneyed people comfortable.
Richard Delaney, Sharon and Greg’s grandfather, was an Irish-born estate gardener. Estate workers, of every kind, were often on the move, looking for that ideal position. If they were talented and fortunate, they might find a long-term position where they could put down some roots. Richard Delaney appears to have been both.
In the spring of 1930, Richard was a married man with two young children. His new job offered great promise, but it was located on the other side of the Atlantic, so Richard elected to travel to Canada alone and send for the family if the situation was as good as he had hoped.
Well, he did not sail away from Ireland entirely on his own. He was accompanied by his best mate, James Maloney, who was also in search of a better life. James Maloney was then a father of one, but would go on to raise a large family in Barrie, which included famed hockey player Dan Maloney.
A few months later, Richard’s wife, Ellen, arrived in Canada with their two little daughters. With her, aboard the S.S. Montcalm, was dear friend Sarah Maloney, and the Maloneys’ four-month-old son, James.
Boulderfel was another of the stately homes of east-end Barrie. It, too, is long gone. Located on Blake Street, just south of Abbeyleix, it had once been home to H.H. Strathy Q.C. By 1920, it belonged to Harry Morrison Lay, an English-born banker, and his wife, Janet Lindsay King, sister to Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King.
The King siblings had a deep love for flower gardens and it turned out that Harry Lay was a bit of a natural in that department himself. When he retired from banking in 1930, he opened a greenhouse business on the Boulderfel property.
Richard Delaney came to Canada to work for the Dyment family, so the story goes. A relative had made some employment arrangements for Richard, but they did not quite work out.
Not a man to waste any time, Richard Delaney sought work elsewhere. He was hired by the Lays and, within the year, had been sent on loan to Prime Minister King in Ottawa. On his return to Barrie, Richard Delaney was taken on by the Brock sisters at Abbeyleix.
Over the next four decades, under Richard Delaney’s careful attention, the already charming grounds of Abbeyleix became a wonderland of flowers and shrubs, lily ponds and fish pools, fountains and quaint little seating areas.
Each week, the Barrie Historical Archive provides BarrieToday readers with a glimpse of the city’s past. This unique column features photos and stories from years gone by and is sure to appeal to the historian in each of us.
