Discovering my grandfather, Robert Roy Greenhorn, his life in Canada (Part 4)

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Group of boys working in a field at the Philanthropic Society Farm School.

By Beth Greenhorn

This article contains historical language and content that some may consider offensive, such as language used to refer to racial, ethnic, and cultural groups. Please see our historical language advisory for more information.

I concluded Part 3 of this series about my grandfather, Robert Roy Greenhorn, with his departure to Fairknowe Home in Brockville, Ontario in the spring of 1889. This was the Canadian distributing home operated by Scottish philanthropist, William Quarrier.

Black and white page with letterhead with two rows of black capital letters across the top of the page that reads, ‘Distributing Home for Scotch Children and Canadian Orphan Home, Fairknowe, Brockville, Ont.’ There is a graphic image of a two-story home with a wide verandah in the middle. The image is flanked by cursive typed writing in black. There is a stamp in the top right corner with the date the letter was received. The date the letter was sent appears in the bottom right.

Letterhead for Fairknowe Home, Brockville, Ontario, Immigration Branch, RG 76, Vol. 46, File 1381, Part 6, Headquarters Central Registry files, 1892-1950. Source: Immigration Program : Headquarters central regi… – Image 378 – Héritage (canadiana.ca).

Before the parties of children left Scotland, families in Ontario applied to Quarriers Orphan Homes for a child. During the farewell event in Glasgow for my grandfather’s departure, William Quarrier assured the well-wishers that care “was exercised in choosing suitable homes for them [the children] in the new country. Both boys and girls were watched over till they reached the age of eighteen.” (untitled [iriss.org.uk]), p. 23, March 15, 1889, the North British Daily Mail)

The application form offered families a choice of a boy or a girl and asked for the desired age range. If requesting a boy, there was a section about the type of farm the family owns, the number of hours of work each day, the acreage and the number of cows to be milked. Additionally, each applicant needed to provide the names of five character references: their minister, reeve, physician and two other prominent individuals.

The children’s placements were regulated by legally binding contracts or indentures. According to a Web exhibition by the Canadian Museum of History, the indenture forms:

…clearly set out the responsibilities of the rescue home, the child, the master, and the mistress. For a youngster under the age of ten, the master or mistress received $5 a month from the agency for lodging, feeding, schooling and clothing the child, who was expected to do minor chores around the house and farm. Between 11 and 14, children received only their board, clothing and some schooling in exchange for their labour. From 14 to the end of the indenture at aged 18, the children were expected to perform adult’s work on a full-time basis, and thus were entitled to wages. (Civilization.ca – Crossroads of Culture – Trunks and Travel / Barnardo Children [historymuseum.ca]).

White sheet of paper with black typed writing. There is a stamp in black with the date the letter was received on the upper ride side.

Indenture form, stamped by the Department of the Interior, March 24, 1900, Immigration Branch, RG 76, vol. 46, file 1532, part 1. Source: Immigration Program : Headquarters central regi… – Image 379 – Héritage (canadiana.ca).

My grandfather, like the majority of Home Children, came from industrial urban areas in the United Kingdom. He would have performed some daily chores while living at Bridge of Weir. However, this would not have prepared him for farm life in rural Ontario or the harsh Canadian winters (Canadian Immigration Historical Society [cihs-shic.ca]). Coupled with these adversities, many of the children were subjected to other hardships. While some Home Children had positive experiences and were treated like family members, a number experienced great suffering, including physical and sexual abuse and neglect (Compensation offered for surviving British Home Children and Child Migrants | Ups and Downs – British Home Children in Canada [wordpress.com]). Emigration organizations, including Quarriers, were expected to carry out annual visits to ensure the children were receiving proper care. According to a 1907 souvenir booklet published by Quarrier’s organization, the children who emigrated to Canada were “under careful supervision [allowing] them to grow up worthy citizens of the great Colony” (William Quarrier- Brockville Ont 7,200 immigrated – BRITISH HOME CHILDREN IN CANADA [weebly.com]), slide 2).

But as the late author and co-founder of British Home Child Group International, Sandra Joyce observed:

This is where the system began to break down. Siblings were separated upon their arrival here and though, some of the farmers genuinely cared for the children, many just saw them as cheap labour. Others submitted them to abuse of a horrific nature. Monitoring a child’s placement was usually left up to the luck of the draw (British Home Children – SANDRA JOYCE).

Each year, the children inspectors were responsible for monitoring over 2,000 children throughout southern Ontario, making this undertaking next to impossible. (Canadian Immigration Historical Society [cihs-shic.ca]).

Following their arrival to Canada, my grandfather and his brother were sent to different farm families. The 1891 Census of Canada records my great-uncle, John, age 15, working as a domestic servant for Robert and Mary Parker on a farm near Brockville, Ontario. According to my Aunt Anna, Robert lost touch with John, who had gone north and eventually settled out West. I found an obituary for a John Greenhorn on Ancestry, born around 1877 in Scotland, and deceased March 31, 1961, at the age of 84 in Victoria, British Columbia. I believe this is my great-uncle.

As mentioned in Part 3, I had hoped to find records for my grandfather after his arrival to Fairknowe Home in Brockville. Unfortunately, this information had been destroyed. During conversations with my father, Ralph, I learned that his father first lived with a family near the hamlet of Philipsville, Ontario, approximately 46 kilometres from Brockville. I do not know how long my grandfather lived with this family, but from what I understand, he was mistreated before being taken in by the Kings, who lived on a nearby farm. By 1891, my grandfather, age 12, was registered as a domestic servant living with Aulga (sic) [Auldjo] and Mary (Ann) King and their adult children, William and Christine (1891 Census of Canada). When the 1901 Census of Canada was taken, Robert was still living with Anldfo (sic) and Mary Ann King, along with their granddaughter, Gladys Marshall. I was heartened to see that his relationship with the Kings had changed. No longer a domestic servant, he was recorded as being adopted by the King family. My Aunt Anna remembered how Robert spoke highly of the Kings, who he said “were always good to me.” (conversation, August 22, 2023). The 1901 Census of Canada, combined with my aunt’s recollection, suggest that my grandfather’s circumstances had taken a positive turn, and he lived with a family who cared for him.

This next part might seem off topic, but I assure you, it is relevant to my grandfather’s story. The best student job I ever had took place over two summers in the early 1980s. It involved a historical research project about heritage buildings and families in Bastard and South Burgess Township, which includes the hamlet of Philipsville. The project was led by historian Diane Haskins and culminated with My Own Four Walls: heritage buildings and the family histories in Bastard and South Burgess Township, published in 1985. This job gave me the opportunity to spend a week at the National Archives of Canada, now Library and Archives Canada (LAC), researching the Ontario census records on microfilm. I never imagined that I would eventually work at LAC, but I digress. Back to my grandfather’s story.

When I spoke with my Aunt Anna in August 2023, she brought out her copy of My Own Four Walls. The chapter focussing on Philipsville includes a photograph of Reuben Haskin’s grist and sawmill, taken circa 1900. The man kneeling on a beam and holding an axe in the top left is identified as Bill Greenhorn. I recall this photograph from my research as student 40 years ago but had never seen a photograph of my grandfather as a young man until 2018 during a visit with my cousin, Joyce Madsen, my Aunt Jennie’s daughter. After I began working on our grandfather’s story, Joyce generously gave me the portrait of Robert taken in his early twenties (see Part 1). I assumed that whoever had inscribed the names of the individuals on this photograph had misidentified the man holding the axe and had the incorrect surname. As far as I knew, there were only three Greenhorns in south-eastern Ontario at the turn of the century: my grandfather, Robert, and his brothers, John and Norval.

Photograph of a group of people, seven men, two women and two children posing on the ground, a beam and a ladder in front of an open wooden building.

Reuben Haskin’s Grist and Sawmill, Philipsville, Ontario, ca. 1900. Top row, left to right, Robert Greenhorn, other two men unidentified. Middle row, left to right, Joe Halladay, Kenneth Haskin, unidentified child, Allan Haskin and Philo Haskin. Front row, left to right, Helen Haskin, Bertha Haskin, Miss Shire and Mr. McCollum. Courtesy of Bruce Haskins. (OCLC 16752352, p. 96)

While working on this blog series, I learned from the 1911 Census of Canada that my grandfather was employed as a labourer at a sawmill and boarded with Reuben and Bertha Haskin in Philispville. If my Aunt Anna had not reminded me of this photograph in My Own Four Walls, I would never have made this connection.

On July 14, 1916, the Ontario Land Registry Access records for Leeds County show that Auldjo and Mary Ann King granted parts of lots 21 and 22, the land next to their farm, to Robert for $10, with unspecified conditions tied to Mary Ann’s life expectancy. Two months later, on September 16, 1916, Robert married my grandmother, Blanche Carr. (Ancestry.ca – Ontario, Canada, Marriages, 1826–1939) Born in May 1898, she was 19 years my grandfather’s junior but would have known Robert her entire life, having grown up just down the road from the King’s farm.

My grandparents owned a dairy and beef farm and sugar bush, which my family affectionately calls “the Farm.” They had eight children, seven of whom survived into adulthood: Jennie, Roy, Josephine (Jo), John, Jean, Arnold and my father, Ralph. Nellie, born in 1924, died the following year. She is buried with my grandparents in the Halladay Burial Place in Elgin, Ontario.

Photograph of a group of two rows of men, women and children standing in indoor clothing on snow in front of a wooden frame building on the right and a tree on the left.

In front of the farm house, Philipsville, Ontario, ca. 1940. Front row, left to right, Uncle Arnold, Alex Morrison (Aunt Jo’s husband), my grandmother Blanche, Aunt Jo, Aunt Jean, my grandfather Robert and Uncle John. Back row, left to right, Uncle Roy, Mary and Hugh (Aunt Jo’s children) and my father, Ralph. Courtesy of the author, Beth Greenhorn.

Life for my grandparents was not easy, especially in the early years of their marriage. Their first home, located a few properties from the King family farm, had its challenges. My Aunt Anna recalled how Blanche’s midwife described their house as “a poor shack of a place” with buckets to catch the rain coming through the roof (email from Anna Greenhorn to Beth Greenhorn, January 19, 2024). After receiving my aunt’s email, I rechecked my father’s unpublished memoir. He briefly mentioned Margaret (Meg) Nolan, the midwife who delivered all of Blanche’s children. In the 1931 Census of Canada, Margaret Nolan, age 62, was employed as a practical nurse and still living in Philipsville.

By the 1921 Census of Canada, Blanche and Robert Greenham (sic) had purchased land next to the King family, where they eventually built their house. Robert’s occupation was a farmer. They had three children: Jennie age five, Roy age three and Jo age two at that time.

During my conversation with Aunt Anna last August, she told me about how my grandparents first built the barn and where they lived while the house was being constructed. Earning a living took priority, and they needed a shelter to milk the cows. As soon as construction on the house permitted, my grandmother and aunts, Jennie and Jo, and possibly Nellie and Jean, moved in. My grandfather and uncles, Roy and John, continued sleeping in the barn until the house had some interior walls for privacy.  My father said that they had no electricity until he was in grade 10 or 11, which would have been the mid-1940s.

Farming was, and still is, hard work, requiring long hours 365 days of the year. It also demanded support from the entire family. While there was never money for any luxuries, my father said there was always plenty of food on the table, with lunch being the heartiest meal of the day. It usually consisted of mashed potatoes and gravy, several kinds of vegetables, roast beef or ham, and it always ended with a big slice of fruit pie. Most of the food was grown on “the Farm” (unpublished memoir, pp. 7-8).

Black and white detail from a census record showing 17 columns and the names of 11 individuals handwritten in black ink on individual rows.

1931 Census for Robert and Blanche and their seven children. They were living beside William King, the son of Auldjo and Mary Ann King. Daniel Beach, a lodger, was Mary Ann King’s elderly father. Source: 1931 Census (bac-lac.gc.ca), Leeds, Subdistrict – Bastard and Burgess, no. 4, page 2 of 13.

Researching my grandfather Robert Roy Greenhorn’s story has been a bittersweet journey of discovery. I can only imagine how terrifying it would have been coming to a new country at the age of nine and being separated from his older brother. It is distressing to know that my grandfather was treated poorly by his first host family. I was able to find comfort that he was taken in by a kind couple, for whom he cared.

Studio portrait of a young man in an oval frame on rectangular black mat board. He is wearing a three-piece suit and bowler hat and holding a scroll of paper and has one elbow propped on the back of chair.

Robert Roy Greenhorn, photographer and location unknown, ca. late 1890s. Photograph courtesy of Pat Greenhorn.

This photograph of my grandfather was probably taken in his early twenties. Having one’s portrait taken in the late nineteenth century was a special occasion. He was dressed in his best and likely only suit, and his vest looks a bit small, like he had outgrown it. He holds a scroll of paper, a prop indicating that he can read and write. The directness of his gaze conveys confidence. His body language is one of self-assurance. While my grandfather’s life was not a traditional rags-to-riches tale, his story is one of resilience and determination.

Additional Resources


Beth Greenhorn is an Online Content Manager in the Outreach and Engagement Branch at Library and Archives Canada.

Discovering my grandfather, Robert Roy Greenhorn, his life in The Orphan Homes of Scotland (Part 3)

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Group of boys working in a field at the Philanthropic Society Farm School.By Beth Greenhorn

This article contains historical language and content that some may consider offensive, such as language used to refer to racial, ethnic, and cultural groups. Please see our historical language advisory for more information.

I would like to thank Mary Munk (a retired colleague from Library and Archives Canada’s Genealogy and Family History); my aunt, Anna Greenhorn; my cousin, Pat Greenhorn; and Steven Schwinghamer (Pier 21) for their help with part 3 and part 4 of this series.

While writing the third article about my grandfather, Robert Roy Greenhorn, I had not located any documents pertaining to his emigration to Canada. I reached out to Quarriers Records Enquiry, but according to the British Home Children in Canada website, the reports kept by Quarrier’s Orphan Homes of Scotland about the children’s progress in their Canadian homes were destroyed, apparently as a result of a miscommunication when the Canadian operation closed in 1938. I had also hoped to track down records regarding his placements with the two host families he lived with after arriving at Fairknowe Distributing house in Brockville, Ontario in 1889, but I have had no such luck to date.

Thus far I have only been able to locate two records specifically related to my grandfather.

The first is this group portrait taken in March 1889 shortly after his arrival to Fairknowe Home. Robert and his brother John are both in this photograph. All the boys’ names are listed alphabetically by first name below the image. I have never seen a childhood photograph of my grandfather, making it impossible to identify him. According to my aunt, Anna Greenhorn (my Uncle John’s wife), my grandfather was tiny for his age. I know from his Passenger List that he was among the youngest boys in his party. I wonder if he was amongst the smallest boys standing in the front row?

Black and white photograph of a large group of boys, several men and women standing on the ground, front steps, and verandah of a white stucco building.

“The Siberian Arrival Party,” March 26, 1889, Fairknowe Home, Brockville, Ontario. Photo: William Quarrier- Brockville Ont 7,200 immigrated – BRITISH HOME CHILDREN IN CANADA (weebly.com)

The second reference is a brief statement found on page 43 in Narrative of Facts, William Quarrier’s annual report for 1894. It mentions “…a boy of 9, brother to two taken before and now in Canada doing well. This one has been with a married sister, but he is getting beyond control and although so young has been pilfering, etc.” (Source: untitled (iriss.org.uk)) The nine year old boy is Norval, my grandfather’s youngest brother, and Jeanie, now married, is the sister. Norval left Scotland March 29, 1894. He arrived in Halifax, Nova Scotia on April 16, 1894, before going onto Fairknowe Home in Brockville, Ontario.

In Part 2 of this series, I left off with my grandfather and his brother, John, transferring from the City Orphan Home in Glasgow to the Orphan Homes of Scotland, located at Bridge of Weir, approximately 25 kilometres away. They moved after beds became available following that year’s emigration of boys to Canada. This was June 11, 1886. The Orphan Homes of Scotland would be home to Robert and John for almost three years.

By the time my grandfather and his brother arrived at the Orphan Homes of Scotland, it had grown from two cottage homes that could each accommodate 20 to 30 children, into a self-contained community with just under 600 children in residence (Source, p. 37). Known as “The Village,” the community was made of 16 cottage homes, laundry facilities, workshops and bake houses, a store and post office, a stable and cowshed, a poultry coop, a greenhouse, the Mount Zion Church, classrooms and a house for the superintendent. The central building housed the main hall, school rooms and teachers’ lodgings. There was also the “James Arthur,” a land-locked ship for training boys who would work in the navy.

On March 14, 1889, a special meeting was held at “The Village” to bid the boys bound for Canada a farewell.  Robert and John, along with 128 other boys, departed Scotland the following day. Members of the public from Glasgow and Paisley were invited to the reception. According to a story in the Glasgow Herald titled “Orphan Homes of Scotland: Departure of Children for Canada” (March 15, 1889, p. 8.), several hundreds of vehicles carrying well-wishers arrived at Bridge of Weir Station. I will never know if Robert and John’s older sister Jeanie, who had been working in Paisley in 1885, was among the guests. If she did attend, I hope she had an opportunity to see her younger brothers one last time and give them both a hug goodbye.

Every boy and girl who emigrated to Canada was given a wooden trunk, stamped with their first initial and surname. My cousin, Pat Greenhorn, inherited our grandfather’s trunk, the only memento remaining from his childhood. As mentioned in Part 1 of this series, each child was expected to work, generally as domestic servants for the girls and farm labourers for the boys. Therefore, the trunks were equipped with work clothes fit for the Canadian seasons, an outfit for church, toiletries, a sewing kit for mending socks and clothing and a Bible. Additionally, the children were given a copy of John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, a religious allegory about a man named Christian. Ashamed and filled with sin, Christian leaves the City of Destruction for the Celestial City in search of redemption. Undoubtedly, this popular book was chosen for the religious and moralistic teachings to encourage the children as they embarked on their journey and a new life in Canada.

Colour photograph of a brown wooden trunk with a name stencilled in white capital letters across the middle-to-right side and another name stamped in smaller black capital in the lower left corner.

Robert Greenhorn’s trunk from Quarrier Orphan Homes of Scotland. Photograph courtesy of Pat Greenhorn.

Robert and John travelled on the S.S. Siberian, operated by the Allan Line. LAC does not have any digitized images of this ship. It does, however, have a postcard of the S.S. Sardinian, which brought Home Children to Canada beginning in 1875. It is similar to the vessel my grandfather travelled on. The S.S. Sardinian was also featured on the 2010 Canadian postage stamp commemorating Home Children (see Part 1).

Colour photograph of a ship with black sides and a red strip across the bottom and a red, black, and white smokestack. There is a smaller white boat with four oars, and a smokestack emitting smoke anchored at the right front. The name of the ship is written in red typeset letters in the upper right corner of the image.

The S.S. Sardinian, operated by the Allan Line, ca. 1875-1917 (a212769k).

LAC has the Passenger List for the Quarrier boys, along with the rest of the cabin passengers, departing from Glasgow and Liverpool to Canada on the S.S. Siberian in March 1889. My grandfather, entered as Rob Greenhorn, is among the boys aged nine.

As with the Quarrier’s emigration parties, my grandfather travelled to Canada in steerage, the cheapest fare on long-distance steamer voyages. Descriptions of these living and sleeping quarters sound miserable. Located in the space containing the machinery, the lowest part of a ship, passengers in steerage class were overcrowded and had little fresh air, causing an unbearable stench. (Steerage – Wikipedia). In his 1889 annual report, William Quarrier thanked the Allan Line “for the convenience and comfort of the party,” which was “as usual most liberal and satisfactory.” (1889, p. 24 untitled (iriss.org.uk)) My grandfather’s recollection of the voyage differed from that of Quarrier’s. During a conversation last summer with my Aunt Anna, she recounted Robert’s experience on the S.S. Siberian. According to my grandfather, he and the other boys were packed like sardines, with 14 in a cabin and thick air that stunk. (Source: conversation, Anna Greenhorn and Beth Greenhorn, August 22, 2023)

My grandfather arrived in Halifax, Nova Scotia on March 26, 1889, nine days following their departure. After deboarding the ship, the boys were processed by immigration officials in the cargo shed at Pier 2. This photograph from the Nova Scotia Archives shows what it looked like before fire destroyed it in 1895.

Black and white photograph of a long one-story brick building on a wooden wharf. There are several sail boats in front of the wharf, and a large brick building with the name of the company in white letters is behind the building on the left side.

Pier 2 cargo shed, with the Intercolonial Railway Co.’s Elevator in the background, Halifax Harbour, before 1895. Photo: Harry and Rachel Morton Fonds, accession no. 2005-004/004, Longley Album Part 1, no. 40, Nova Scotia Archives.

Prior to 1892, the Immigration Branch was under the jurisdiction of the Department of Agriculture. The immigration facilities in Halifax were rudimentary. In January 1889, three months before my grandfather’s arrival, the Deputy Minister of Agriculture, John Lowe, inspected Pier 2 cargo shed. He concluded it was less than adequate. In a memorandum, dated April 23, 1889, he wrote:

At present the immigrants are landed in the freight shed at the I.C.R. [Inter Colonial Railway] deep water terminus. There is a small room at the corner of this intended for the shelter of women and children, but its accommodation is altogether insufficient for the numbers of immigrants arriving. Great inconvenience arises…in the freight shed and when large numbers come and have to wait for some hours…the hardships inflicted on the immigrants are very severe, serious sickness having in some cases been caused to delicate children. Proper shed accommodation for the use of immigrants arriving at Halifax is, for the reasons stated, are both absolutely necessary and urgent. Another winter should not be allowed to pass without the erection of such accommodation. (RG17, vol. 610, file 69092)

Following the immigration inspection, my grandfather and his party boarded an Intercolonial Railway train bound for Fairknowe Home in Brockville, Ontario. The distance between Halifax and Brockville is 1,730 kilometres (1,074 miles). This would have been another exhausting trip, taking at least several days or more.

In the fourth and last article of this series, Robert Roy Greenhorn’s story will take us to Canada; more specifically, to Fairknowe Home in Brockville, Ontario and later to Philipsville, Ontario, where he would live for the remainder of his life.

Additional Resources


Beth Greenhorn is an Online Content Manager in the Outreach and Engagement Branch at Library and Archives Canada.

Discovering my grandfather, Robert Roy Greenhorn, his life in Scotland (Part 2)

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Group of boys working in a field at the Philanthropic Society Farm School.By Beth Greenhorn

This article contains historical language and content that some may consider offensive, such as language used to refer to racial, ethnic, and cultural groups. Please see our historical language advisory for more information.

In the first article of this four-part series, I wrote about my grandfather, Robert Roy Greenhorn (1879–1962), and my discovery that he was a Home Child with Quarrier’s Orphan Homes of Scotland. The second part of this story takes us to Gartsherrie and Falkirk, Scotland, the birthplace of my grandfather Robert and his parents.

I would like to acknowledge Anna Greenhorn, her daughter Pat Greenhorn, and my cousin Joyce Madsen, for generously sharing their memories of Robert Roy Greenhorn.

Black-and-white photograph of a group of 53 people on the steps of a large house with a veranda. Boys are standing in four rows, with more boys, four girls and three men wearing hats standing behind them.

Group of children from Quarrier’s Orphan Homes of Scotland at Fairknowe Home in Brockville, Ontario, ca. 1920–30 (a041418). This photograph was taken about 30 years after the arrival of my grandfather Robert and his brothers.

When doing genealogical research, gaps in the records and even missing information are often encountered. Researchers need to access a variety of archival and published sources to connect the proverbial “dots” when researching an individual’s life story. This is particularly the case when the person whose life is being researched was not rich or famous. While researching my grandfather’s story, I was able to piece together facts about his life through Canadian census records, passenger lists and Home Children records held at LAC, digitized primary sources on Ancestry, the Census of Scotland, historical publications, newspapers, and exhibitions available online.

I am grateful to my Uncle John and Aunt Anna (my father’s brother and his wife) for their research on the Greenhorn side of the family. Special thanks to Aunt Anna, who gave me photocopies of two pages from ledger books. The first sheet, titled “Greenhorn, John & Robert,” which is page 40, has entries for December 10, 1885; June 11, 1886; and March 15, 1889. The second sheet is titled “Greenhorn, Norval” and is page 285, with entries made on July 6 and 8, 1892; March 29, 1894; and November 25, 1904.

I contacted the Quarriers Aftercare team in Bridge of Weir, Scotland, to verify the source of these photocopied records and am awaiting a reply. However, I think it is safe to assume that they are copies from ledgers kept by Quarrier’s Orphan Homes of Scotland. Although they consist of only two pages, the information in these entries provide answers about why my grandfather Robert and his brothers, John and Norval, became wards of the Orphan Homes of Scotland and were relocated to Canada. Significantly, they mention Jeanie Greenhorn, my grandfather’s eldest sister, who is a key figure in this story.

Given that my grandparents, Robert and Blanche (née Carr) Greenhorn, were dairy farmers, I assumed that my grandfather came from a family of farmers, or at least had ties to an agricultural past. Little did I know that my grandfather’s family were among the working poor and victims of industrialization in Scotland. My great-grandfather, Norval Greenhorn (1839–82) and his father-in-law, my great-great-grandfather, John Fleming (1805–87), were employed as ironworkers in the manufacturing towns of Gartsherrie and Falkirk.

Gartsherrie, now a suburb of Coatbridge, was a former industrial village located about 14 kilometres east of Glasgow. This was the birthplace of my great-grandmother, Margaret (née Fleming) Greenhorn (1845–85). By 1843, the Gartsherrie Ironworks was probably the largest pig-iron producer in the world. In 1864, Andrew Miller wrote a vivid, but bleak, description of Coatbridge and Gartsherrie:

To all who may have visited an iron producing district such as Coatbridge, around which the fiery beacons flash, the scene on a dark night must have been most impressive; but what strange ideas would enter the mind of any man who had never been near or heard of an iron work… and looked down [from Gartsherrie Church] for the first time on nearly two score and ten blast furnaces belching forth their forked flames, while the innumerable stalks and furnaces of the surrounding mills and forges darted their meteor-like flashes of glaring white heat amid the gloom of darkness. (quoted on “The Bairds of Gartsherrie” web page, North Lanarkshire Council)

This photograph of the Gartsherrie Ironworks, taken in the mid-1870s, shows the blast furnaces (for the smelting of ore) on the “New Side,” built on the Monkland Canal. The “Old Side,” located on the opposite side of the canal and not visible in this photo, had another 8 furnaces, making 16 in total.

Black-and-white photograph of an industrial scene. A multi-storey brick building with a smokestack is on the left, and eight blast furnaces on the right take up two thirds of the photograph. There are two large barges in a canal located in front of the work yard and furnaces.

Gartsherrie Ironworks, “New Side,” with eight blast furnaces, Gartsherrie, Scotland, ca. 1875.
Photo: The Bairds of Gartsherrie – CultureNL Museums (North Lanarkshire Council Museums Collections).

In the Ordnance Gazetteer of Scotland (1884, vol. I, p. 273), edited by Francis H. Groome, Coatbridge and district is described as follows: “Fire, smoke, and soot, with the roar and rattle of machinery, are its leading characteristics; the flames of its furnaces cast on the midnight sky a glow as if of some vast conflagration.”

The 1851 Census of Scotland (Scottish census records are available through Ancestry) lists my great-grandmother, Margaret Fleeming [sic], age six, as living in Gartsherrie. It shows her father, John Fleeming [sic], age 43, as being employed as a furnace filler. I assume that he worked at the Gartsherrie Ironworks since their address was 154 North Square. This was one of the housing units built for the workers by William Baird and Company, founders of the Gartsherrie Ironworks. By the time this photograph was taken in 1966, North Square was derelict, and it was eventually demolished in 1969.

Black-and-white photograph of a paved street in front of a long unit of derelict row houses. The houses are built of stone and no longer have roofs.

The now-demolished group of buildings originally known as North Square was housing for workers of the Gartsherrie Ironworks, Gartsherrie, Scotland, 1966. Photo: Canmore National Record of the Historic Environment.

A street map from the 1930s shows North Square hemmed in by railway tracks on two sides. The ironworks with the blast furnaces would have been within view. According to the Wikipedia page for Coatbridge: “Most of the town’s population lived in tight rows of terraced houses built under the shadow of the iron works” in appalling and overcrowded living conditions, where “tuberculosis was rife.” The Ordnance Gazetteer of Scotland (1883, vol. III, p. 80) states that in Gartsherrie, “There are 400 workmen’s houses, each with two or three apartments, a small garden plot, and a cheap supply of gas and water.” It also mentions a school at the ironworks, which had 253 students in 1881 and could accommodate 612 children, and an academy with 400 students that could take 666 pupils.

I imagine that the ironworkers and their families seldom escaped the misery of Gartsherrie. The Industrial Revolution extended working hours: Work was no longer seasonal or limited to daylight hours, with workdays lasting from 14 to 16 hours, six days a week. This 1853 painting of Gartsherrie by Night shows the blast furnaces operating at night.

According to the 1861 Census of Scotland, my great-grandfather, Norval Greenhorn, lived with his parents and brothers in unit 8 on Back Row in Falkirk, an iron and steel manufacturing town, about 27 kilometres northeast of Coatbridge. Norval, age 22, was employed as an “iron manedar” (ironworker?).

The housing for workers in Falkirk sounds as miserable as in Gartsherrie. The Falkirk Local History Society describes the Victorian-era Back Row (or Manor Street) as grim and narrow, with overcrowded and insanitary buildings, notorious for their dilapidated condition and prone to regular outbreaks of cholera and typhus.

My great-grandparents, Margaret and Norval Greenhorn, married in March 1864. Curiously, the 1871 Census of Scotland does not mention Norval in the entry for Margaret. She was working as a general servant and living with both of her parents, her brother, his wife and their infant son at 154 North Square (see third image above) in Gartsherrie. The census does, however, mention a granddaughter “James Grenham,” age six. I believe that this was Jeanie Greenhorn, the eldest child of Norval and Margaret, born in 1864. As for Norval’s omission, I suspect that he was still working in Falkirk, although his name was not recorded there, nor in any other 1871 census records.

Norval and Margaret had seven or eight children, with only four surviving: Jeanie (1864–1938), John (1877–1961), my grandfather Robert (1879–1962) and Norval (1883–ca. 1960), the last to be born.

By the time of the 1881 Census of Scotland, Margaret and Norval were both living at 154 North Square in Gartsherrie, along with her father (John Fleming) and their sons: my great-uncle John, age three, and my grandfather Robert, age one. John Fleming was an unemployed furnace filler. Norval (senior) was working as a tube finesher [sic]. Jeanie Greenhorn, age 16, had left home and was employed as a servant for George Bissett, a fruit merchant, and his wife, Sarah, in Cleland Place, about 17 kilometres southeast of Gartsherrie.

I learned from the Orphan Homes of Scotland that my great-grandfather Norval died from inflammation of the lungs in late December 1882. My great-grandmother Margaret became a widow at age 37 or 38, losing the breadwinner in the family. She was pregnant with their youngest son, Norval, who was born sometime in 1883. She had two boys to care for: John, age five, and Robert, age three. I can only imagine the hardship and suffering that she and her children endured. My Aunt Anna’s ledger pages show that on December 3, 1885, Margaret died from kidney failure, or “dropsy” as it was called in the 19th century, leaving my grandfather and his siblings as orphans.

According to the entry for John and Robert Greenhorn from the Orphan Homes of Scotland ledger, Jeanie was about 20 years old and working as a servant for Margaret (née Campbell) Kerr at Gallowhill House in Paisley when her mother, Margaret Greenhorn, became ill. Mrs. Kerr gave Jeanie a month’s “holiday” to tend to her mother on her deathbed.

The burden on Jeanie would have been immense. She was suddenly left with the responsibility of caring for her three young brothers, all under the age of eight. The situation would have been difficult for most people her age, but especially challenging for an unmarried woman employed as a servant.

Jeanie was undoubtedly aware of the philanthropist William Quarrier. In 1876, he founded City Orphan Home in Glasgow and, in 1878, he opened the Orphan Homes of Scotland at Bridge of Weir, about 24 kilometres west of Glasgow. Throughout the mid-1870s and the 1880s, local newspapers regularly published articles praising Quarrier for his tireless and evangelical work in rescuing destitute children in Glasgow and elsewhere in Scotland. On March 28, 1884, the Glasgow Herald reported on a meeting in Glasgow the day before that year’s group of boys departed for Canada:

…in a large and populous city like Glasgow …institutions were needed to do the good that was necessary for the public to confer upon these poor little things left without proper guardians …To Mr. Quarrier and his staff the public owed a great debt of gratitude for all they had done in the past. (Applause) …all the boys that had gone out to Canada in the past, and who wished to do well, had found comfortable homes, and could get plenty of employment… Canada …was a place where the cities were not so densely populated, where there were no poor persons, and the population was very much an agricultural one. (“Orphan Homes of Scotland,” p. 9)

Just a few weeks before Margaret Greenhorn passed away, The Evening News in Glasgow published an article entitled “The Charitable Institutions of Glasgow: Their Past Work and Future Condition,” Part III (November 16, 1885, p. 2). The author commended William Quarrier, describing him as “a remarkable man… doing remarkable work which demands special notice. Amongst the poor and the outcast of Glasgow, his name was a household word long before it was known to the general public.” While I will never know if Jeanie had read this particular news article, I am certain that she, like other people in Glasgow and neighbouring towns, was well aware and supportive of Quarrier’s charitable work. Given the deplorable housing and working conditions as well as the pollution in Gartsherrie and vicinity, Canada would have sounded like a safe and healthy place where destitute children would thrive.

On December 10, 1885, John and Robert Greenhorn became wards of the Orphan Homes of Scotland. According to my Aunt Anna’s photocopied ledger entry, Jeanie handed “over these two boys and is quite willing they should go to Canada having had all arrangements fully explained” by Mr. Colin, a Pastor with the Baptist Church in Coatbridge. Norval, age three, was taken in by an aunt, Mrs. Greenhorn, in Haddington, east of Edinburgh.

For the next six months, Robert and John lived at City Orphan Home in Glasgow. They moved to the Orphan Homes of Scotland at Bridge of Weir on June 11, 1886. I have not found any interior photographs of the home in Glasgow, but I imagine that my grandfather and my great-uncle slept in a room similar to this dormitory in an orphanage at Huberdeau, Quebec.

Black-and-white photograph of the interior of a large dormitory room, showing beds with white covers arranged sideways in two long rows on either side of an aisle.

Dormitory at the orphanage at Huberdeau, Quebec, 1926 (e004665752).

In the third and last article of this series, Robert Roy Greenhorn’s story will take us to the Orphan Homes of Scotland in Bridge of Weir and then to Canada, to Fairknowe Home in Brockville, Ontario.


Beth Greenhorn is an Online Content Manager in the Outreach and Engagement Branch at Library and Archives Canada.

Discovering my grandfather, Robert Roy Greenhorn, a “Home Child” (Part 1)

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Group of boys working in a field at the Philanthropic Society Farm School.By Beth Greenhorn

This article contains historical language and content that some may consider offensive, such as language used to refer to racial, ethnic, and cultural groups. Please see our historical language advisory for more information.

Robert Roy Greenhorn (1879–1962), my paternal grandfather, was among the thousands of children brought to Canada by William Quarrier’s Orphan Homes of Scotland. This made him a “Home Child,” a term I first encountered in 2003, when I began working at Library and Archives Canada (LAC). In fact, it was only in 2012 that I learned that my grandfather and two of his brothers, John and Norval, were Home Children. Eleven years have passed since I discovered this information. During the past summer, I decided that it was time to write about my grandfather’s story.

This is the first of a four-part series about Robert Roy Greenhorn and is a tribute to my grandfather. LAC is publishing this article on November 20 to mark National Child Day in Canada.

Photographic portrait printed on linen of a young man shown from the chest up, wearing a button-down shirt, tie, vest and suit jacket in an oval frame.

Robert Roy Greenhorn, unknown place, early 1900s. Courtesy of the author, Beth Greenhorn.

Like many Canadians, I had never heard the term Home Child and was not taught about Home Children in school. Nor was it ever mentioned by my father or older family members. I finally learned about child migration schemes while doing research for images to accompany an LAC podcast about Home Children in 2012. My curiosity about my grandfather and the circumstances as to why he emigrated to Canada was piqued. Thus began my journey to uncover his story.

From the 1860s to the mid-1900s, more than 100,000 orphaned, homeless and poverty-stricken children in Great Britain were relocated to Canada and other British colonies. They worked as indentured servants for families in rural Canada until they were 18 years of age, mostly as domestic help and farm labourers. The term for the children sent to Canada was Home Children because they went from emigration agency homes in Great Britain to receiving homes in Canada.

Industrialization in 19th-century Britain caused hardship and suffering for hundreds of thousands of people. This period saw a rise in pollution, poverty, slum housing and social inequalities (“The Home Children” by Patrick Stewart, p. 1). Children from poverty-stricken homes were particularly hard hit. A search through headlines of British newspapers during the Victorian era reveals the harsh labels given to children experiencing misfortune: “waifs and strays,” “paupers,” “delinquents” and “street urchins,” to name a few. There were no social welfare systems to care for the increasing numbers of impoverished, neglected and orphaned children. Describing the dire conditions of the working poor in industrial Great Britain, Patricia Roberts-Pichette writes in “About Home Children” (p. 7):

Most home children came from the poorest working-class families who lived in the worst slums of the great industrial cities. Their families were living in or had fallen into abject poverty because of job loss, illness and incapacity or death of the breadwinner. . . . Social activists, church and civic officials viewed them [children] as being in danger of adopting delinquent behaviours just to feed themselves and thus becoming criminals.

Philanthropic, benevolent and religious organizations were convinced that social and economic problems would be managed by removing the children, as Susan Elizabeth Brazeau explains in “They Were But Children: The Immigration of British Home Children to Canada” (p. 1):

The intention of the child migration schemes was to remove children from what were believed to be unhealthy and socially and morally unacceptable living conditions in England, and place them in Canadian homes, farms and families. Here, it was expected the children would learn skills and become productive members of the working class. . . . These children migrants came to be known as “Home Children.”

The British child migrant program thus served a few purposes: to lessen the burden created by destitute children in Great Britain, while increasing the population in the colonies, and providing a cheap source of farm labour.

Postage stamp with a framed sepia photograph of a boy in a long coat with a suitcase, overlaid on a sepia photograph of a boy ploughing a field with two horses. There is a black-and-white photograph of a ship across the bottom of the stamp.

Canadian postage stamp, issued on September 1, 2010, to commemorate Home Children (e011047381).

Quarrier’s Orphan Homes of Scotland was among the many child migration agencies created in the 19th century. Founded by shoemaker and philanthropist William Quarrier (1829–1903), this private organization was responsible for bringing my grandfather and his brothers to Canada. From 1870 to 1938, Quarrier, and later his daughters, relocated more than 7,000 children to Canada, most of whom ended up in Ontario.

Sadly, I never met my paternal grandfather, Robert Roy Greenhorn. He passed away before I was born. My knowledge of him is what I pieced together from some recollections shared by my father, and a few family photographs. My father, the youngest in his family, had a close relationship with his mother, Blanche (née Carr, 1898–1970). As the “baby” of the family, and given the rigidly prescribed gender roles of the era, my father likely spent more time helping his mother and sisters around the house and vegetable gardens than with his father. My grandfather was also 51 years old when my father was born. This difference in age probably added to the lack of connection between the two. Consequently, most of my father’s memories of his childhood were about his mother and siblings, particularly his brother Arnold, who was the closest in age, being just three years older.

Black-and-white photograph of three women crouched in front of five men and a woman standing behind them.

Front row, left to right: Aunt “Jo” (Josephine), Aunt Jean and Aunt Jennie. Back row, left to right: Uncle Roy, Uncle Arnold, my grandfather Robert, my grandmother Blanche, Uncle John, and my father, Ralph, Philipsville, Ontario, 1947. Courtesy of the author, Beth Greenhorn.

I have little information about my grandfather Robert’s childhood. I know that he had two brothers, John and Norval, and that they were all born near Glasgow in Scotland and emigrated to Canada when they were boys. I also know that they came without their parents. I have since learned that they were orphaned when very young. I had always assumed that my grandfather and his brothers travelled together. While researching my grandfather’s story, I learned that Robert and John departed for Canada in March 1889, and Norval arrived five years later, in April 1894.

In an unpublished memoir from 2015, my father shared one of his few memories of my grandfather:

My dad. [He was] a hard worker… that was his forte. Yes, he laughed, and he was a pretty good hockey player so I understand, but I think the easiest way to sum it up was that the environment had really left its scars, and he was living behind that curtain of scars… I wish I’d asked him more questions about his childhood. I would have understood him more.

Initially, Canadians supported juvenile emigration organizations and welcomed the immigrant children. But as Susan Elizabeth Brazeau describes in “They Were But Children” (pp. 5–6), enthusiasm waned after stories began circulating of children running away, attacking their hosts, stealing food, starving, and in one case, dying. Public opinion changed from acceptance to mistrust, and people questioned whether Great Britain was “ridding itself of the lowest of the low: guttersnipes, idiots, the ill, and children with criminal intent.”

I will never know my grandfather Robert’s perceptions or his experiences as an orphan. Given the derogatory labels used to describe children from impoverished backgrounds, I am sure that the stigma and shame attached to being a Home Child did indeed leave a “curtain of scars.” I wanted to learn about my grandfather’s life and what might be buried behind the “curtain.” What happened to the boys’ parents? What were the circumstances causing him and his two brothers to become wards of the Orphan Homes of Scotland?

In the second article in this series, I will continue with Robert Roy Greenhorn’s story. This will take us to his roots in Gartsherrie and Falkirk, Scotland.

Additional resources


Beth Greenhorn is an Online Content Manager in the Outreach and Engagement Branch at Library and Archives Canada.