M(a)cEwans and cheese (pt. 4)

The Black Creek cheese factory was originally a cooperative with the local farmers providing the capital.  “in 1868 the price of cheese dropped suddenly and the industry briefly contracted.  As the number of Black Creek’s patrons tumbled from 120 to 30, Ballantyne sold his farm and with the help of a provincial grant, bought the factory outright” (Dictionary of Canadian Biography).  Of course, it would be interesting to know whether John McEwan and all the Ballantyne connections were patrons of the factory and whether they lost money in the contraction of 1868 but I have never heard any stories of disagreements over the factory.  During this period there was potential for a large export market to Britain but only if cheese of consistent quality and volume could be produced. The factory system was central to this vision and Ballantyne became a strong advocate for training skilled cheesemakers and demanding the highest standard of cleanliness and sanitation. Gordon’s father John drew milk from neighbouring farmers to the Black Creek Factory. Here is a story told by Gordon many years later.  It illustrates the challenges that Thomas Ballantyne faced in insuring the highest quality of professionalism in his factory.  “On John’s (i.e. John McEwan the grandson of the original John) route was a half-mad woman, who had won for herself acclaim by chasing the tax collector to the road at the end of a pitch-fork.  My fearful recollection of her was a slim, supple-looking woman with gray hair piled in a myriad of wisps about her face and tied in a knot at the back of her head.  Wild eyes indicated the dangers to be discovered in this strange and dangerous woman who appeared to wear the same apparel at all times – a woollen upper-garment, a pair of rubber boots and a piece of filthy sacking strapped to her waist by binder-twine. One morning, John picked up her milk as usual but when the cheesemaker was examining the first can, he discovered an errant cat had tumbled in to meet a milky death.  The cheesemaker holding the milk-drenched feline gingerly turned to John and said. “Well, Jack, you have the welcome job of taking her milk back to her.  We’ll bury the cat.” You can imagine that John quickly deposited the cans on her milk-stand that day and sped the horses on their way. However, the story is not done because the next morning as his team trotted westward, he noted her cans plus the mistress of the estate gathered by her milk-stand.  As the team was pulled to a halt, she went straight to the point: “McEwan, why did you bring my milk home yesterday?” John told the story attempting, if possible, to mollify her and let her see the reason of the happening.  When he had finished, she summarized her position clearly and finally: “McEwan, if you ever bring my milk home again, I’ll put the dung fork through you.” Then, having stated her case, she strode into the house.  John, however, found a way of placating her.  When her milk was considered unfit by the factory, John dumped it into the ditch and filled the cans with whey and because she could  neither read nor do mathematics she simply cashed her cheque"and life carried on.  The attached internet picture from an unknown factory is what it may have looked like as the driver's pulled up to unload their milk at the cheese factory.
Addendum: I now realize that Gordon's cat story above is from a later period when the factory had been transferred in ownership to Thomas' son William Wallace Ballantyne.