Coming to Canada
From the early 1900s to modern day, this homesteading family from England has survived and thrived in Canada
My family is originally from the Cotswold district in England. It is a place of rich farmland, rolling hills with sheep grazing upon them and quaint little towns that haven’t changed in centuries. Why would someone move to Canada from such a place you might ask? The lack of available land was probably the reason. For generations, the Lainchbury family lived and farmed in the same place in Chipping Norton, in the hamlet of Dean. They were agricultural labourers who didn’t own their own land, but lived in the cottages surrounding Dean Manor House’s farmland. My great-great-grandfather, Caleb Lainchbury (18521933), was born and died in the same residence, named the South View cottage. Lainchbury family units worked the land together, and often visited one another.
Caleb and his wife Rose Ann had ten children, nine of whom survived. Unfortunately, there was no land for the four boys to inherit in England, and not enough land to support another generation of workers. They had to look for another opportunity for the next generation of Lainchburys.
In the early 1900s, the Canadian Minister of the Interior was Clifford Sifton, responsible for immigration at the time. Posters were sent out to the United Kingdom to promote immigration to Canada. The promise of a healthy climate and rich farmland was probably enticing to young adults like my great-grandfather Albert (Caleb’s son), who was just turning 20 in 1905. I wonder whether Albert and his brothers—frank, John and Arthur— would have attended one of the lecture series set up by Canadian government representatives to boast about Canada’s resources and to encourage people to immigrate. In the end, five of Caleb’s children came to Canada including my great-grandfather Albert, his two brothers, Arthur and Frank Felix, and his sisters, Emma and Louisa, all of them ending up farming on homesteads in the Myrnam district of Alberta.
My great-grandfather Albert was awarded 160 acres of land, uncleared and full of rocks, in 1906. In the next five years, he broke and planted 15 acres; built a 12-foot by 16-foot log house, a granary, a stable and a henhouse, and tended to four oxen, seven cattle and five horses. I can’t imagine the time and sense of community that would have taken to accomplish.
At the time, Albert was a single man. He met and married my great-grandmother, Alta, in 1916 and they soon started a family. My grandfather Wallace was the first born, in 1917. They would go on to raise nine children in all. The Lainchburys continued to be a close-knit family even though Albert’s brothers eventually explored different occupations, including coal mining and mili
Albert and Alta Lainchbury and their children, February 1942. Left: One of the posters used in the United Kingdom to encourage immigration to Canada in the early 1900s. tary life. My dad remembers visiting the aunts and uncles often for dinner, and playing with his cousins. We have pictures from that time, where the family posed for portraits. Maybe this is where the idea of our family reunions was born.
By the time Albert was 61, his oldest son Wallace was married to Pearl and they had their first child, Lawrence, my dad. When Albert was ready to retire, Grandview Flats in the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia was his place of choice. The region had a more temperate climate and maybe reminded him of home in Cotswold, just a little. The homestead farm was passed down to Wallace, who had gradually taken over the work and shouldered the worry of running a small family farm.
My dad can remember as a child going on trips over the mountains to visit his grandparents and bringing home mounds of fruit for my grandmother to jam and jar. He remained close to his grandparents, Albert and Alta, throughout their lives. Likewise, all of Albert’s descendants—the three boys (Wallace, Everett and Russell) and six girls (June, Evelyn, Darlene, Della, Rose and Grace) always kept in touch.
Ties That Bind
In 1974, my grandfather Wallace sold the family farm, wanting more for his boys, as all parents do. My dad eventually moved to Ontario, where he worked for a growing Bell Canada company, and even though almost 2,000 miles separated us, we would always find a way to go back home to visit every few years. As more generations were added to our family tree, the need for a more formal family reunion was felt. In 1966, all nine of Albert and Alta’s children came together for their 50th wedding anniversary. As the years passed, the family congregated for special occasions. In 1983, the first organized reunion was planned in Vernon, B.C. and my immediate family made the trek out west that summer from Ontario, camping along the way. Since then, reunions have happened every three to four years with people coming from all over Canada, the U.S.A. and even England. Social media has made it easier to stay in touch, but there’s nothing like a reunion with cherry-pit spitting contests, horseback riding, big breakfasts and campfires. I’m looking forward to our next one later this year at my dad’s cousin’s farm overlooking Horseshoe Canyon, near Drumheller, Alta. I’ll catch up with my cousins, and my dad will do the same with his; we’ll visit with the aunts and be introduced to the most recently born Lainchburys.
I’m not sure Caleb would have ever imagined his son Albert’s legacy would be so strong in Canada. A pioneer and a homesteader, in his own way Albert helped build our country. Above all, he was a family man. His family may have spread out to other parts of North America, and we may have taken on different last names through marriage, but we all consider ourselves Lainchburys, with the work ethic and traditions that come with the name.