The Jews of Windsor, 1790-1990. Jonathan V. Plaut
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу The Jews of Windsor, 1790-1990 - Jonathan V. Plaut страница 12
In the 1820s the small ferry landing opposite Detroit began to emerge, soon surpassing its more historic neighbour, Sandwich, which continued to slumber under its status as capital of the Western District of Upper Canada. Its legal and administrative functions were not matched by entrepreneurial activities as downriver Amherstburg outgrew its fortress functions to become a major port and business centre and the Ferry — the future Windsor — blossomed as the major transportation centre and border crossing in the region. Roads, regular stage and ferry crossing schedules, and business activity that focused not only upon the local and immigrant trades but also on a steady stream of customers from Detroit and the US led to surveys, land subdivision, and the emergence of a municipality. In 1836 Windsor’s citizens chose its name. A financial panic followed by the rebellions of 1837–38 ruined early railroad plans and retarded the economic growth of the area for a decade. By the 1850s, however, renewed railway construction provided a stimulus to immigrant workers and the arrival of the Great Western Railroad gave Windsor new importance as the premier rail crossing to the United States along the New York-Chicago corridor. Other railway lines reached Windsor in the 1880s, all seeking river outlets and ferry connections with the United States. In 1882, the Grand Trunk took over the Great Western; a year later the Canada Southern shifted its operations from Amherstburg to Windsor (Essex Cutoff) and the Canadian Pacific Railway, Canada’s transcontinental line, arrived before the end of the decade. The municipality achieved city status in 1892 — the community had arrived and awaited the new century with anticipation and optimism. It could expect to garner its share of immigrants to the New World seeking opportunities and new lives. Three border communities with nearly contiguous boundaries — Sandwich, Windsor, and Walkerville — were soon to be joined by a fourth, Ford City. Together, the Border Cities constituted a formidable urban entity by the beginning of the twentieth century.
From earliest times, the region had hosted a diverse population. The first inhabitants were Native peoples, followed by pioneer French Canadians. Fur traders and merchants of many nationalities worked closely with the military contingents, French or British, who were established at Fort Detroit. In the wake of the American Revolution and the resulting political division of the continent in 1796, Loyalists from the South poured into the emerging colony of Upper Canada. After 1815, these pioneers were joined by a new wave of British immigrants, culminating in the massive Irish influx of the 1840s and 1850s. As a railway centre and international border crossing, Windsor received a significant volume of the immigrant traffic bound for the United States. Sick immigrants were often refused entry and turned back by Detroit customs officers, dumping responsibility for the problems of medical attention, isolation facilities and general care on the young border community.
The Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 produced new problems and opportunities for Windsor as an influx of black residents, often destitute, arrived seeking freedom and a new life in Canada. Henry Bibb’s Voice of the Fugitive, published in Windsor/Sandwich during these years, served as a beacon of hope for the oppressed. Mounting Civil War pressures and border incidents provoked nationalist responses on both sides, and for a short time the imposition of a restrictive passport system, but the border usually remained open allowing easy access between the two countries.
The Windsor community consisted of a mix of people; it was a place where all sorts could make their way. By the time of the Great Migration of the 1880s, Windsor had developed sufficiently to be attractive to newcomers, offering a variety of opportunities enhanced by border location, proximity to Detroit, and a relatively porous border. The flat, but fertile agricultural lands of Essex County and improved communication with the completion of the Gravel Road (Howard Avenue) made Windsor the market centre of a growing agricultural economy.1
The First Jews
The Jews who came to Windsor from Russia seeking economic opportunity found the community a good place to earn a livelihood. They hoped that, after their initial struggle, other members of their families and friends could be brought over to the New World. Suited for work in a capitalist economy, the early Jewish settlers adapted to the border’s relatively open and tolerant atmosphere, even though the language was foreign and the culture and customs were strange.
Windsor had always been a place where people came for a short time and, when possible, moved on to the United States. Some pioneering Jews found that the Canadian side of the Detroit River held great promise and although they had relatives in Detroit, traded there, and relied upon the larger community for services unavailable to them on this side of the border, they settled in Windsor. The evidence about this early period is sketchy — much information has been lost, and unfortunately, primary sources are scarce — but after careful research, a pattern of Jewish settlement does emerge from the scattered records.
Following the death of Moses David in 1814, we can safely assume that no other Jew settled in the Windsor area until the 1870s, since neither local newspaper accounts nor census figures show any signs of Jewish activities during that period.2 The first viable Jewish presence in Windsor was established about 1878, when the first group of Eastern European immigrants arrived there. They were mostly from Suwalk and Shtabin, and other small Russian-Polish towns in Bialystok Province, close to the Lithuanian border, and the typical pattern of these immigrants was for a few key family members to secure a base in Canada before asking their relatives to join them there. Determined to succeed in the country that had given them the chance to make a fresh start, they and others who came after 1881 to escape the Russian pogroms were a courageous, industrious, and hard-working lot, well conditioned to withstand hardships in difficult times. They were eager to perpetuate the familiar lifestyle they had left behind, so that Jewish nucleus soon transformed Windsor into their own kind of shtetl, making it their fortress amid an initially hostile environment in which differences in language, customs, manners, and dress set them apart from the rest of the population. Most of them readily embraced the free-enterprise system, at first peddling for their livelihood before saving up enough money to bring over family members and friends. They, in turn, assisted expansion into more established businesses. Gradually gaining confidence and status, they ultimately took their proper places in Canadian society and, specifically, in Windsor’s big little Jewish community.3
William Englander
Although the picture of Essex County’s early Jewish settlement is incomplete, the records indicate that the first Jew to make Windsor his permanent home around 1876 was William Englander. Born in 1850,4 he had left his native Hungary as a young man and, after living in China, Japan, and Australia, had made his way to the United States.5 He landed in New York City in 1876, boarded a train for Cleveland, Ohio, where he had a first cousin and, after staying there for a while, moved on to Detroit.6 We do not know what motivated him to cross the Detroit River to the Canadian side, but by 1891, he was listed in Windsor’s City Directory as a peddler living at 122 Windsor Avenue. Three years later, he opened a store on the same street and even though the sign above the shop read, “W. Englander Groceries and Meat, Butter, Eggs, and Poultry,” he was likely a shochet, a Jewish butcher specializing in the ritualistic slaughter of animals.7
Since William Englander spoke several languages, including German, Russian, Bulgarian, Polish, Yiddish, and Bohemian, starting about 1895 he also acted as a court interpreter whenever his services were required.8 Then, in December 1898, it was rumoured that he was planning to run in the upcoming municipal election as an alderman. On January 3, 1899, the Evening Record reported that, “In ward three, Mr. Englander, a new man, surprised his friends by heading the poll with a very substantial majority.”9
Photo courtesy of Shaar Hashomayim Synagogue
William Englander.
Having become the first Jew to be elected to