Crysler Hall, the home of a prosperous farmer. There is also an area in the park that is dedicated to the history of the Battle of Crysler’s Farm, a battle that took place between the Americans and British in 1813. The British won handily, though they were greatly outnumbered. The land on which the battle took place was submerged by the seaway. This house belonged to the son of the Crysler whose land the battle was on, but I don’t know if this house came from that land. Willard’s Hotel. The porch with the tables is where we had our lunch, and a very tasty lunch it was. They have their baked goods made in the old fashioned way by the bakery that is next door. I bet you had no idea that they did gluten free in 1866. It was the first day open for the village and everyone was just coming back, including the horses, Jellybean and Helen. They are still looking scruffy after the winter, but our host said that the next day the horses were all going to be bathed and brushed and shined up. We had the wagon to ourselves. The driver is a retired teacher and now works here during his summers. This is a job that I could enjoy. The Robertson House, the home of a businessman. One room in this house was the original building, but it was added to and renovated until it looked like this–quite beautiful…and yellow. 🙂
Art with dried vegetation. Interesting. Don’t know if I’d want it on my walls.
Three nice vignettes, one marred by a modern broom–with a broom maker in the village and everything. Tut tut. Wanna buy an ox?
This beautiful stove is in the tavern. It is in the waiting room, where people would wait for their stagecoach. The top part is a warming oven, where they kept bricks. You could take a brick with you on the stage if it was cold, or you could take one to bed with you if you were staying upstairs.
Children’s shoes, made on the premises. Many employees get their shoes made here. There are no nails in these. They are little wooden pegs around the sole.
You can take a ride in this canal barge.
The cookhouse behind the tavern.
Back at the beginning. Our last view of Upper Canada Village.
Tomorrow, I accidentally stumble upon the St. Lawrence Seaway.