Gord and Marta’s Home
Franc aleu roturier. The term designates land that was originally granted to a settler without the conferring of nobility. This was done when land was difficult to settle, especially because of native attacks. These concessions were strips of land beginning at Lac St. Louis and generally stretching northward as far as one man might be expected to clear, and topography allowed. In 1698, the land upon which Gord and Marta’s house now rests was granted to Jacques Théoret dit Larivière and was recorded in the registrar at the Seminary of St. Sulpice in the “Terrier” or land book as Terrier 159. We can assume that M. Théoret worked hard for his land and his money and achieved a certain amount of success, as he was still listed as the owner of this Terrier in 1713.
At some time in this fifteen-year period, the pioneer would have built a house. It is unlikely that the current house, or any part of it was built in that era. Houses at that time generally consisted of one large room with a low ceiling, much like the sitting room that inhabits the centre of the current house. There is also an attic, which was common in those times. However, the ceiling in the living room, which was probably built at the same time, is much higher. There is no way to be sure, one way or the other. It seems that this is one of the secrets that will remain concealed within the walls of this Cedar Park home. Although not sure of the actual year of construction, Gordon and Marta, the current owners, are fairly certain that the living room, sitting room, and one bedroom are part of the original house. The kitchen and one other bedroom were additions.
It is unfortunate that surmise and conjecture are required to fill in the blanks for the next 180 years or so. Little is known about this house until the late 19th century, when George Barrington & Sons, manufacturers of trunks, valises, bags, and blacksmith bellows, went bankrupt, causing Finlay Dow Barrington to lose his house, the focus of this story. We can only imagine what a sad moment it was for him and his wife, Alice, as they closed the door behind them for the last time. History only records his failure, and we don’t know if he recovered and went on to succeed in other endeavours.
Otto Frederick Lilly, a Swedish immigrant, acquired the house in 1893. Mr. Lilly and his large family never actually lived in it but dwelt just a few steps down the way where Cedar meets Lakeshore. The retired merchant was something of a visionary, being responsible for the development of the Cedar Park area. Otto Lilly was the first president of the Protestant School Board of Trustees, and it was under his leadership that Cedar Park School, the first Protestant school in Pointe-Claire, was built in 1895, very close to the house. For the first couple of years, water was carried from the house to the school.
The civic-minded gentleman also created a circle in the middle of Cedar Avenue. He envisioned it as the site of a permanent church. His wish was partly granted. In 1922, a Presbyterian congregation built what they called the Lilly Memorial Church. It later became a Unitarian church and is now a senior’s home, the Maison d’octobre.
In 1907, Otto Lilly sold the residence to Robert Munro. The conditions of the sale were that the new owner would fence the property; plant trees in front of the property, between the house and the sidewalk; keep half the street in front of the property in repair until such street was assumed by the municipal authority; not to erect or permit to be erected on the property any tavern, saloon, slaughterhouse, tannery, factory, or other building which may be deemed a nuisance and not to sell any intoxicating liquor thereon.
This information is taken from the first deed of sale that is still available, so we don’t know if these conditions were standard at the time or if there had been some problem in the past that made these restrictions necessary. There is no mention of what can and can’t be done in later deeds.
The house changed hands several times in the following years, sometimes inhabited by the owners and sometimes rented out. In 1925, Frances Margaret Mary Keenan, a married woman, bought the house—in her own name. This was almost unheard of at the time. Even though her husband, Richard Hennessy, co-signed for the mortgage, Mrs. Keenan was the official owner.
In 1930, the bungalow was sold to Ernestine Tavernier. Here I am going to dangle at the edge of the limb of poetic license: because the name is somewhat unusual, I suspect that the new owner was in some way related to the Ernestine Tavernier who on August 10, 1849, was the first woman to scale Aneto, the highest peak in the Pyrenees.
The house changed hands five more times over the next 20-odd years, until Arnold and Grace Barkes purchased it in 1953 and remained its guardians for over 20 years. It was Mrs. Barkes who was responsible for knocking down part of a wall between the living room and sitting room. The rooms had been connected by a small opening on one side of the rooms. The result is an elegant archway that allows sunlight to enter from windows in back and front, creating an airy, warm atmosphere. This ambience permeates the whole house.
In the early ‘80s, after Gord and Marta had bought their home, Marta picked up whatever information she could from her neighbours. Lore has it that in the early 1900s, their home might have been a teahouse, where people could stop for a cup of tea, a glass of lemonade, and some neighbourly chitchat.
Gord and Marta have lived in this house since 1980. They have helped to create and maintain a home that is both elegant and comfortable, where old and new co-exist in harmony, and where the sun slips through the windows and seeks out and brightens the darkest corners. Their children spent their entire childhoods under this roof.
There is an old and battered suitcase that rests on the deacon’s bench in the living room. It had already lived a full life when Marta’s parents acquired it more that fifty years ago. It is part of the family history. Both of Marta’s parents, Franciszek and Krystyna were born in Poland. Her father was a soldier in the Polish military and was captured by the Nazis. He spent World War II in prisoner-of-war camps across Germany, while her mother survived by serving in a restaurant that was frequented by Germans in old Warsaw. After the end of the war, Franciszek was liberated by the Red Cross and brought to Italy. Krystyna escaped from Poland by covering herself in a white sheet and crossing the border in the dead of winter. She had heard that Franciszek was in Italy, and she hitchhiked across Europe to reach him. They were reunited and married in Italy. From there they moved to England, where Marta’s sister Anna was born. In 1949, the family took a boat to Halifax, where they came ashore at Pier 21 with a trunk, two suitcases, and $17.00. Somewhere Halifax and Montreal, one of the suitcases disappeared, lost, or stolen. The remaining one rests on the bench, a reminder of the past, to be handed down to the next generation.
Houses guard their secrets. Most people live lives of quiet anonymity except to their family and friends. Their triumphs and failures, joys and sorrows are not fodder for Google or reference books. The majority of us slip silently and unnoticed out of the reaches of common knowledge with the death of the last person who remembers us.
I offer a tip of the hat to Otto Lilly, whose achievements fleshed out this history. Thank you to Gord and Marta who were so generous with their time and priceless documents. And finally, if Brian R. Matthews hadn’t written A History of Pointe-Claire in 1985, this history would be even shorter.