The Riders In The Night, Diphtheria in Muskoka

Cooper's Falls Cemetery - Photo By Fred Schulz

THE RIDERS IN THE NIGHT - BRING OUT THE DEAD - THE HOMESTEADER'S DEMISE

MEDICAL ASSISTANCE WAS DAYS AWAY - AND DEATH COULDN'T WAIT

     MAYBE I AM "OLD BEFORE MY TIME," AS SOME OF OUR FAMILY FRIENDS CLAIM. I CAN BUY THAT. HAVING SPENT SO MUCH OF MY TIME RESEARCHING THE PAST, I SUPPOSE IT'S POSSIBLE I HAVE ABSORBED QUITE A BIT OF HISTORY WITHOUT KNOWING IT! I'M NOT UNHAPPY ABOUT THIS. I REALLY FEEL I'VE LEARNED SOMETHING IMPORTANT, ABOUT THE PERILS OF DISCONNECTING FROM THE PAST……BECAUSE IT MISTAKENLY SEEMS IRRELEVANT. I FEEL DIFFERENTLY ABOUT THIS, AND I HAVE A GRAVE CONCERN THIS INCREASING IGNORANCE OF HISTORICAL PRECEDENTS, WILL SNAP BACK ON US ONE DAY, WHEN WE ARE MOST VULNERABLE. WE HAVE SEEN EXAMPLES OF THIS RECENTLY; AND THERE HAVE BEEN HUMBLING CIRCUMSTANCES, CREATED BY THE HAND OF NATURE, THAT HAVE MADE US ALL OF A SUDDEN, WONDER OUT LOUD, WHAT OUR PARENTS AND GRANDPARENTS WOULD HAVE DONE, DEALING WITH A SIMILAR CIRCUMSTANCE OF HARDSHIP.

     THERE SEEM TO BE A LOT OF PEOPLE THESE DAYS, WHO HAVE FORGOTTEN THE PASSED-DOWN STORIES, ABOUT THE INHERENT HARDSHIPS OF RESPECTIVE ERAS IN OUR FAMILY'S PAST. THE JOY AND TRAGEDY AS EXPERIENCED BY OUR ANCESTORS. MORE THAN EVER, I BELIEVE, WE ARE OBSESSED WITH THE RIGORS OF THE PRESENT, AND DRAW VERY LITTLE FROM THE EXPERIENCES OF THE PAST. WHICH OF COURSE, ARE LIFE EXPERIENCES THAT SHOULD MAKE US MORE RESOURCEFUL AND PREPARED. EVEN FOR WHAT WE ONLY PERCEIVE TODAY, AS ANNOYING INCONVENIENCES. YET IF YOU GO BACK INTO YOUR FAMILY TREE, YOU WILL CONNECT WITH A BLOOD-LINE THAT HAD IT VERY MUCH WORSE, THAN EVEN THE MOST TROUBLESOME DAY YOU CAN IMAGINE TODAY. AS AN HISTORIAN, I FIND THIS DISASSOCIATION WITH THE PAST RATHER DISTURBING, BECAUSE IN THAT SAME FAMILY HISTORY, WITH CENTURIES OF EXPERIENCE, THERE ARE LESSONS ABOUT SURVIVAL, AND ADAPTABILITY TO DO SO, THAT WE SUDDENLY FEEL WE DON'T NEED TO KNOW.

     WE ARE NOW BECOMING ISOLATED FROM A MEANS OF COPING WITH HARDSHIP THAT WAS ONCE COMMONPLACE. AS IF WE KNOW IT ALL, IN THIS MODERN TECHNOLOGICAL ERA, IT'S AS IF WE HAVE EVERYTHING WORKED OUT IN ADVANCE. WE CAN HANDLE CRISIS. THERE IS NO STORM BIG ENOUGH. NO EARTHQUAKE VIOLENT ENOUGH. NO FAMINE. NO DROUGHT SERIOUS ENOUGH TO DESTROY CROPS. THERE IS THE FEELING THE PAST WILL NEVER RETURN. SO WHY WORRY ABOUT THE WAY OUR ANCESTORS LIVED THEIR DAILY LIVES. WELL, THIS IS A BIG PROBLEM FOR MODERN SOCIETY. THE RECENT HURRICANE THAT HIT THE EASTERN SEABOARD OF THE UNITED STATES, TOOK THOSE AFFECTED, BACK TO PIONEER DAYS IN A MATTER OF HOURS. IF THEY HAD FOLLOWED SOME PIONEERING ADVISE BEFORE THE STORM, MAYBE THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN LESS HARDSHIP AND DEATH ASSOCIATED, WITH THIS VIOLENT BUT NATURAL TURN OF WEATHER.

     OUR PIONEER COMMUNITY DIDN'T HAVE THE PRIVILEGE OF ANYTHING MORE THAN BASIC PROVISIONS, IN ORDER TO SURVIVE THE HARD LIFE IN THE WILDERNESS. THEY HAD LITTLE CHOICE BUT TO PREPARE FOR THE COMING WINTER, EVEN IF IT WAS THE EARLY SPRING. IT WOULD TAKE THE BETTER PART OF A YEAR, TO MAKE SURE THERE WAS A FULL SUPPLY OF FOOD AND WOOD IN TIME FOR THE TURN OF WEATHER IN OCTOBER. AS FOR PROFIT, IT WASN'T NEARLY AS IMPORTANT AS PREPARING FOR WINTER WITH THE RESOURCES AT HAND. ANY PROFIT WAS TURNED BACK INTO THE FARMSTEADS, TO MAKE A MORE COMFORTABLE LIFE FOR THOSE KNOWING FEW COMFORTS IN A SMALL, DRAFTY LOG CABIN CARVED FROM THE MUSKOKA BUSH.

     ONE OF THE GREAT HARDSHIPS ENDURED, OF COURSE, WAS THE DISTANCE FROM MEDICAL ASSISTANCE. IT WAS BAD ENOUGH TO BE A CONSIDERABLE WALK OR WAGON RIDE TO THE NEAREST CHURCH, OR GENERAL STORE, BUT THE LIFE AND DEATH STRUGGLE IN ISOLATION, COST A LOT OF LIVES THAT COULD HAVE BEEN SPARED, HAD THEY BEEN RESIDENTS OF ONE OF THE LARGER SETTLEMENTS…..WHERE A DOCTOR OR TWO HAD SET UP PRACTICE. IN TERMS OF HEALTH, THE HOMESTEADERS WERE CONSTANTLY AT HIGH RISK, BECAUSE OF THE NATURE OF THEIR LIFESTYLE, SHORTAGE OF NUTRITIOUS FOOD, LACK OF MONEY TO PAY FOR A DIVERSE FOOD SUPPLY, AND THE PHYSICAL STRESSES OF THE HOMESTEAD. THERE IS A STORY TOLD BY SUZANNE'S UNCLE, BERT SHEA, IN HIS WELL KNOWN TALES OF PIONEER TIMES, IN THE THREE MILE LAKE AREA OF THE PRESENT TOWNSHIP OF MUSKOKA LAKES, ABOUT AN ELDERLY WOMAN, LEFT ALONE AT HER CABIN, WHO WAS INJURED WHILE SPLITTING WOOD TO KEEP THE HOME FIRE BURNING. A SHARP FRAGMENT OF WOOD FLEW-UP WHEN THE AXE HIT THE LOG, AND HIT HER EYE, EDGE FIRST. THE WOOD SHARD IMBEDDED SO DEEPLY INTO HER EYE SOCKET, THAT SHE COULDN'T PULL IT OUT BY HERSELF. MEDICAL HELP WAS A LONG DISTANCE AWAY, AND SHE HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO WAIT FOR SOMEONE TO COME BY HER CABIN, SO SHE COULD ASK FOR ASSISTANCE. SHE LIVED WITH THAT WOOD SPLINTER IN HER EYE FOR SOME TIME AFTER, BUT THE INFECTION PROVED TOO MUCH FOR THE ELDER SETTLER, WHO EVENTUALLY SUCCUMBED. THERE ARE MANY SIMILAR STORIES ABOUT SICKNESSES THAT HAD TO BE TENDED BY THE SETTLERS THEMSELVES, AS DOCTORS OF COURSE, WERE NOT AS NUMEROUS AS THEY ARE TODAY.

THE SUDDEN ONSET OF A SICKNESS THAT COULD KILL OFF A HOUSEHOLD WITHIN HOURS

     DIPHTHERIA: "AN EPIDEMIC INFLAMMATORY DISEASE OF THE AIR-PASSAGES, AND ESPECIALLY OF THE THROAT, CHARACTERIZED BY THE FORMATION OF A FALSE MEMBRANE." BY ANY OTHER NAME, A KILLER DISEASE THAT SPREAD RAPIDLY UNDER THE RIGHT CONDITIONS.

     Suzanne's grandfather, John Shea, a former clerk in the present Township of Muskoka Lakes, and farm owner in the hamlet of Ufford, on the shore of Three Mile Lake, took it upon himself, to erect a fence around a small previously unmarked multi-plot gravesite, belonging to a family, wiped out by an outbreak of diphtheria, sometime, we believe, in the late 1800's. The Dougherty family, of which "Dougherty Road" was named, in Ufford, (near Windermere), had contracted the deadly disease, at a time when it was ravaging the pioneer communities in this vicinity of Muskoka. From what we can find, of this tragic circumstance, upwards of five family members died within twenty-four hours, and had to be hastily buried in the late hours of the night to avoid spectators, who could also become infected by close proximity. A number of lilacs were planted by neighbors at the gravesite, some time after, and it was how John Shea knew where to find the plots, when he decided to create a fence to mark the family plot as a latent memorial. This came many years after their deaths. Suzanne and I have visited the site numerous times, and it was always the same lilacs, that led us to the spot. The fence has long since deteriorated. It is located only feet from the route of the present Dougherty Road, not far from the present Ufford Community Cemetery.

     "Diphtheria, in the old days, took its course - whole families were wiped out. Burials after midnight by law," wrote family historian, Bert Shea. "The ghastly sound of wagon wheels and horses feet, or the thump of the jumper and the rattle of the bullchair, as slowly the oxen drew the caskets in the dead of night to the place of burial. I will not write more of the terrible procedure, save to say that there are cemeteries in Watt, where there were none present at the midnight burial, save the dim oil lantern…..two figures, one at each side of the grave, shovels in hand, and the good man at the head, conscious of the risk he was taking with his own family, but who, in faith, stood with his parishioners to declare the words of the Master….'I am the resurrection and the life."

     He also notes that fumigations were ordered by doctors to prevent diphtheria outbreaks, including after infectious events had occurred. Diphtheria was an agonizing ailment marked by severe fever, coughing, choking, and sore throat. Having a whole house infected, must have sounded horrible, to the attending doctors, nurses, and preachers, if in fact, they were able to attend, related to proximity from established villages. One can imagine the fury of activity around these affected homesteads, and the worry in the surrounding neighborhood, with rampant fear that they would be the next victims of this most vicious illness, that killed children in front of their helpless parents…..the weakest succumbing first. Then the elderly and parents meeting the same fate, often in the same day. There were survivors. But it depended on the care the victims received.

     Imagine hearing what Mr. Shea reported, on those fateful nights, the eerie sounds of wagon wheels on the hard packed dirt roads, and the twinkle of lamplights on the sides, helping to guide the way through the woods and partly cleared pastures, to the afflicted household, where death was imminent, some family having already succumbed, and been hastily prepared for a quick funeral before sunrise. This was not the work of an author penning a horror story, or a movie script for profit. It was reality at its most unfortunate, and there were many heroes from this period, and one of them was known as the "Tramp," an Anglican missionary of considerable acclaim, and compassion, by the name of Gowan Gillmor. From his Ministry in the Village of Rosseau, and the Diocese of Algoma, he moved his residence to nearby Ullswater, at the time of a smallpocks outbreak, (and circulated similarly during the diphtheria epidemic) and was one of very few who would tend the sick and those near death, medically and spiritually, and of this, he became a Muskoka legend in his time and beyond.

     "Gillmor of Algoma, (written by E. Newton White), is the story of a missionary's life, his struggles, heartaches and joys in those early wilderness areas, along the base of the Canadian Shield, which one Bishop used to describe as 'a land of rock of ages and Christmas trees.' It is the story of a beloved priest who tramped over those rocks and probably even slept under some of those trees, here and there, carving upon them, 'The Tramp'."

     "During the years Gowan Gillmor was at North Bay, the scourge of diphtheria was sweeping the north country. It was then a lethal disease and caused terror in the backwoods communities," notes E. Newton White. "What his son in Canada did, is best pictured in Gowan's own tribute to a predecessor in the Parish of Rosseau; the Rev. A. W.H. Chowne - "when there was a terrible epidemic of diphtheria and scarlet fever, he himself nursed the child patients; with his own hands, he prepared the dead for burial, put them in their coffins, dug their graves, and committed them therein, - in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to Eternal Life."

     "The epidemic diseases did not spare Rosseau, and Gowan took up his self appointed duties again. Smallpox broke out in Ullswater, and he closed up the Rosseau Rectory, to take up residence there to minister to the sick. When diphtheria was rife in Rosseau, he had his parsonage quarantined and spent all his time among the stricken homes; only stopping when, as he said, 'there are no more throats to look down'." Additionally, according to White, there was also a case further north, when, on a bitterly cold winter night, with a storm brewing, he planned to attend a family suffering from diphtheria, more than ten miles away. He was to travel on foot, as he usually did. Before he left, he had secured groceries and medicine for the family. Eleven children were infected. According to Gillmor, "Arrived safely." He nursed the family until all were well.

     "Gowan used to tell Rosseau people what he told many others in his long experience….that only he and death had undisputed entry into the homes where contagion had taken hold; quarantines notwithstanding. Death kept very close vigil while his own presence lent help, hope and consolation. He did not tell them that he often disputed death's entry, and many a time was able to bar the door to him," notes the author / historian.

     There were others throughout our district who defied the deadly disease, to help those in need. It is known that amongst the bravest, were those who tended the burials of the deceased, risking the possibility of carrying the contagion into their own homes. Often there were no doctors attending, and it was family that had to send for help to bury the deceased. This was life and survival on the frontier.

     "I have heard the voices of his loved ones in mourning, and the men of the river in silent groups, standing around, the slow tread of the horses and wheels of the carriages, as they bore him away to the quiet burying ground." From the book written by Bert Shea.

     Thanks so much for joining today's historical blog. It's always good to have you aboard.

Life Of Hardship In Muskoka

Photo by Fred Schulz

THE STORY OF GRANNY BOWERS SHOULD ATTRACT OUR ATTENTION

HARDSHIP AND POVERTY WERE THE TRIALS OF DAILY LIFE IN MUSKOKA

     LAST CHRISTMAS I CHASTIZED A LOCAL PUBLICATION FOR INSENSITIVE EDITORIAL COMMENTS, MADE ABOUT THE PREVELANCE (VIA STATISTICS) OF POVERTY IN MUSKOKA. WHETHER IT WAS A PROBLEM WITH WORDSMITHING AND EDITORIAL OVERSIGHT, IT SEEMED TO REPRESENT POVERTY AS A CUMBERSOME, DEPRESSING REALITY THAT WAS INTERFERRING WITH OUR "BRAND" PROMOTION, BEING PITCHED IN AND ABOUT MUSKOKA. HEAVEN FORBID THAT THE REALITY OF FAILING PERSONAL ECONOMIES SHOULD TARNISH OUR IMAGE HERE IN "GOD'S COUNTRY," AS A LUXURIOUS OASIS FOR ALL THOSE WHO CAN AFFORD TO COTTAGE OR LOUNGE AT A LAKESIDE RESORT. SO I GAVE THEM A LITTLE HISTORY LESSON. ONE THAT COULD HAVE BEEN EASILY GIVEN BY GRANNY BOWERS, FROM THE LITTLE 1942 BOOKLET, PUBLISHED BY THE SOCIETY OF ST. JOHNS THE EVANGELIST, IN BRACEBRIDGE.

     THE MUSKOKA WILDS WERE FULL OF DESPERATE STORIES OF THE POOR AND DESTITUTE, WHO ALTHOUGH PENNILESS AND HUNGRY, STILL WORKED AT CLEARING THEIR HOMESTEAD GRANT LANDS,  ATTEMPTING YEAR AFTER DISCOURAGING YEAR, TO GENERATE CROPS FROM THE THIN, ROOT AND ROCK STREWN SOIL. MANY OF THESE COURAGEOUS SOULS DIED TRYING TO CARVE OUT SUCCESSFUL FARMSTEADS, AND ARE STILL BURIED IN UNMARKED GRAVES ACROSS THE COUNTRYSIDE. THE SUFFERING WAS EXTREME, AND SO MANY OF THESE SETTLERS WERE RECRUITED BY UNSCRUPULUS EMIGRATION AND STEAMSHIP LINE AGENTS, WHO PAINTED THE FRONTIER OF CANADA, IN MUCH GRANDER TERMS THAN WERE WARRANTED. WARNINGS AND ADVISORIES WERE FEW, AND USUALLY BURIED WITHIN THE GLOWING REVIEWS, PUBLISHED IN SETTLERS' GUIDE BOOKS. THUS, SO MANY ILL PREPARED SETTLERS ARRIVED IN THE HARSH ENVIRONS OF CANADA, AND MUSKOKA IN PARTICULAR, THAT FAILURE WAS OFTEN IMMINENT. GRANNY BOWERS' STORY IS PART OF THIS UNFOLDING TRAGEDY, THAT IS MOST OFTEN OVERLOOKED, WHEN WE'RE CELEBRATING THE HERITAGE OF OLD BOATS, STEAMSHIPS, RESORTS, AND OUR COMMUNITIES. GRANNY BOWERS' STORY IS HONEST BUT DEPRESSING. SEEMS A LOT OF FOLKS DON'T LIKE BEING DEPRESSED BY WHAT THEY READ. AS AN HISTORIAN, I WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH. NOT THE GLOSSY OVERVIEW, AND POPULAR, "FEEL GOOD" HISTORY, WE MOST OFTEN RECEIVE, IN OUR HERITAGE PUBLICATIONS TODAY.

     THE POWERFUL STORY IN THIS TINY, UNASSUMING LITTLE BOOK, IS PRECIOUS TO ME, AND IT IS WHY I DECIDED TO RE-PUBLISH THE MATERIAL IN THIS BLOG. IF YOU ARE JUST JOINING THIS FOUR PART SERIES, YOU CAN ARCHIVE BACK TO THE FIRST AND SECOND CHAPTERS, BY GOING TO THE BLOG HISTORY. THE BOOKLET WAS PRINTED IN SMALL QUANTITY, AND THERE ARE VERY FEW LEFT FOR PUBLIC VIEWING.

IN GRANNY BOWERS' WORDS

   (MRS. BOWERS' AND HER HUSBAND, WITH CHILDREN, ARE IN THE COOKSTOWN VICINITY, WITHOUT MONEY OR LODGING, AT PRESENT IN THE TEXT)

     "We told the hotelkeeper there that we had no money but would like to stay all night; we told them of our hard times, and one man wanted to take up a collection for us. He started with ten cents. But my pride was hurt and I decided to move on. But a rich lady and gentleman came in and persuaded them to keep us all night. In the morning we had a bit to eat in our room and started again to Carlooke and arrived there about noon and went into a boarding house to warm ourselves and found they were old neighbours of ours. They used us good and we had a good dinner; all we could eat. And when we were refreshed we continued on to Alliston and stopped awhile at my sister Annes, where we left our little girl and then went on to my mothers. Once there I was settled for the winter. Then he went back to Allandale to cut wood. He worked here till the 20th of March with Squire Little and all he saved in that time, from Xmas to March was $1.00. The rest went for board, tobacco and drink. With the dollar he bought enough calico fro a dress for myself and the little girl.

     Granny Bowers writes, "Somewhere the middle of April, he sent me a letter with 15 cents. He said for me to try and get up to Angus and pay the 15 cents for fare on the train from there, down to where he was. I thought he must be pretty hard up if that was all he could spare me. And I was too independent to use it. I would have to walk twelve miles anyway to take the train. In about five days I made up my mind to go to him, about 25 miles, and I walked all the way. I started at 8 o'clock in the morning and arrived when the five o'clock train was coming in. He met me about a mile from his work. The man he was working for had paid him some wages to come and get me. He took the baby I had been carrying and carried it into camp. When we got in he kindled the fire and put the kettle on for tea. He went about three miles to Allandale for bread, butter and eggs and we had supper. But I was too tired to eat and wanted to lie down and rest; I was not well for a week. I was so sore from carrying the child. Then about a week later he went to Alliston and got the little girl that we had left with my sister Anne.

     "In the shanty was a heap of straw in the corner for a bed and an old quilt and old stove, and cracked stove pot. This was all we had to make a start with. I had to take my white undershirt to make a sheet. It made a good sized sheet too for skirts were made very full in those days. Then we had the quilt to put over us. We had to do with this till fall and we had all summer to get a few more things together. The woodcutting wasn't much of a job so we had to go in for haying and harvesting for Squire Little. We did four or five acres of wheat for him and eight acres of oats for another man. He cradled it with the grain cradler while I raked and binded. Then we pulled nine acres of peas for the Squire, the pea-vines were seven feet long and a very heavy crop. Then we did odd jobs such as digging vegetables and the like till fall set in. I got my share of the wages for all the work I did. In the fall we went to Barrie to do our shopping. I got some hay ticking for a bed and some flanellette for sheets and he got groceries and provisions. Then we were more comfortable. We stayed there that winter and bought some land from the squire, where we moved to a little shanty near-by in March. Then we stayed there all that summer while he put up a small house on his own property. Here in August, my third child was born.

     She reminisces that, "My husband and another man had been making shingles and a few days before my baby came, I packed twenty-one bunches. He got a man to haul them out to the station and should have got $1.25 a bunch for them. He did not get home till the next day and came in shivering with cold and could not give any account of the money but 37 cents. He had been drinking and it had either been lost or stolen. We were out of bread at the time and when the baby came ten days old, I carried him a mile to pick berries to earn the bread with the other two children toddling after. When another load of shingles was made, he had to take the money he got for them, to pay the man for hauling them out, so we had nothing that time. It happened when we were living there in Inisfil near Barrie in the year 1867. About that time my husband's father died and his mother wanted us to go to Mulmur and live near her, and so we went. His brother had a job chopping, so my husband helped him from March till May. It was about three miles from his mothers so my husband thought we might as well live in the shanty with his brother where they were chopping, and I went in for sugar making and when the work was done, we moved back near his mothers. We remained there all summer and winter and it was here my 4th child was born. My husband received five acres of the farm, as his portion of the estate, so he built himself a nice house on his own land. At that time his mother was bothering us a lot and we could not do as we liked on our own property and so after my fifth and sixth children arrived, we decided to go to Muskoka again."

     She penned in her journal, "In the spring of the year, 1873, when my youngest child was five months old, we moved and started in with the other pioneers. He sold his property in Mulmur and bought a good yoke of oxen, a good cow and ten hens for a start. The oxen carried us to Muskoka. When we arrived there, we found some other people had settled on the land we had when we first came out, so we had to find another homestead, and build another log house. We found a spot in the wilderness and cut logs and put up our house the first year in a temporary way. It was ready to live in on the 4th of November and it was a very bad winter, with four feet of snow. The place had a good beaver marsh and my husband cut a stack of beaver hay for the animals for the winter but they would not eat it as they had been used to better, so we had to sell the oxen and wagon for $40, and the cow for $18.00, so we just had the hens left. There was no work for men in the country then....only cutting cordwood at 40 cents a cord, and not very much of that unless you went three or four miles looking for a job. We made snow shoes that winter from basswood bark and a broad runner hand sleigh and started to make shingles. He went a mile and a half to get the timber. He had no saw like there is now, just common cross-cuts (old style)....no lance teeth. He used to get the tree down the first day, and two shingle cuts off and hauled home on the hand sleigh. He would cut away at the tree till it was all hauled home, and then he made a saw horse and riving block, and made shingles all winter in the house. He rived them and I shaved them, and our eight year old boy packed them; about thirty one or thirty two thousand that winter."

     We will re-join Mrs. Bowers' journal in tomorrow's blog, for the conclusion of her story of survival on the Muskoka frontier, during the pioneering era of our regional history.

     Thanks so much for joining me for today's blog. Please join me tomorrow, for the final part of Granny Bower's incredible story.

The Journal of Granny Bowers

Photo by Fred Schulz

THE JOURNAL OF GRANNY BOWERS - A LIFE OF HARDSHIP - A LIFE OF FAITH

A MUSKOKA HISTORY GEM, FEW KNOW ABOUT TODAY

     ON ONE OF THE FIRST LOCAL SIGHTSEEING VENTURES,  SHORTLY AFTER OUR FAMILY MOVED TO BRACEBRIDGE, BACK IN THE WINTER OF 1966, MY FATHER ED, DROVE US A SHORT DISTANCE OUT THE FRASERBURG ROAD, FOR A STOP AT ST. PETER'S ANGLICAN CHURCH. IT'S UNMISTAKABLE, BECAUSE OF ITS LOG CONSTRUCTION, AND THE FACT THE STRUCTURE IS PERCHED ON A ROCK KNOLL SITUATED SO BEAUTIFULLY AMONGST THE EVERGREENS. I IMAGINE IT IS ONE OF THE MOST PHOTOGRAPHED SITES IN THE WHOLE REGION. MY DAD TOOK PHOTOGRAPHS OF MY MOTHER AND I, ON THE STEPS UP TO THE TINY CHURCH, WITH OUR OLD BROWNIE CAMERA......THE BOX WITH FILM THAT TRAVELLED THOUSANDS OF MILES ON OUR VACATIONS.....AND THANKS TO MY FATHER'S LACK OF KNOWLEDGE ABOUT SUCH THINGS AS COMPOSITION, AND PROPER HANDLING OF THE CAMERA, THERE WAS ALWAYS A TELL-TALE SILHOUETTE OF A THUMB IN THE CORNER OF ALMOST EVERY IMAGE.

     THE STORY OF GRANNY BOWERS IS TIED INTO THIS LITTLE LOG CHURCH, AND IT WAS BUILT FOLLOWING HER DEATH, FROM TIMBERS SCAVENGED FROM AN OLD FARM SHED. TO HER LAST BREATH, SHE HAD HOPED FOR A CHURCH UP ON THE HILL, ACROSS FROM HER HUMBLE ABODE. YOU CAN ARCHIVE BACK TO YESTERDAY'S BLOG TO CATCH-UP ON THE JOURNAL ENTRIES BY GRANNY BOWERS AND FATHER ROLAND PALMER OF THE SOCIETY OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST, THE PUBLISHER OF THE SMALL BOOKLET IN 1942. WE RESUME THE STORY:

     "I can remember when I was a young girl long years ago. I was one of a happy family who lived on a farm in Alliston. I was healthy and strong. I could enjoy life. I remember when I used to get up at five in the morning to watch the sun rise and in the cool of the evening I liked to go to the little river and fish. It was more for a pastime as I never cared for fish to eat. After father died, mother took his place in doctoring and nursing the people. She freely gave her help to all suffering humanity and was always ready to go whenever called. She used to drive to Toronto about three times in the winter to buy her summer's provisions. She would take loads of pork, butter and fowls all the way to sell. Pork at that time was $4.50 a hundred weight for the best. It took one day to go from our home in Alliston to Holland Landing, stop there and return home the next day. My brothers hauled their wheat to Bradford in winter along with the other farmers. That was the nearest market. They would take about three loads a week and about forty bushel a load. The trip from Alliston to Bradford was a distance of about 36 miles so they had to rest the horses every other day.

     She writes, "I used to help my brothers clean the wheat for market. We had a good farm and grew a great quantity of grain. The people in those times had big tin horns to call the men to dinner. When the women would blow the horn the men would hear at the far end of the farm about a mile away. I would take great pride in being the first one to blow my horn, which was usually 11:30 and was generally thought to be the smartest girl but am not much use now at the age of 83. The people in those times used to plan to have land cleared, and cut down acres of trees and underbrush. In the fall of the year at home, they would cut down about twelve or fourteen acres at a time and all with the axe. Wood was of no value then when the country was just opening up, so they piled it in the fallows and burnt it. They generally left about one acre of standing timber on each farm for wood and the rest was all cleared.

     "The farmers each year cleared land for the next year. In September and October they piled all the underbrush in winrows and left the gib trees to be felled in the winter. The next spring about the 24th of May or 1st of June when the brush was dry, they went with a torch on the windside of the winrows and lit up the brush heaps. In about half an hour the whole thing would be in flames as high as the tree tops. Then when the fire cooled down the men came with the oxen and piled up the logs, and in the evening they burnt them. These they would burn two or three days before they cooled down, then the remains were branded up again and continued in this way till all was burnt and the earth was nice, soft clay loam. Then about the 15th of September they planted their fall wheat, with grass seed. Next year they cut the grain and the following year had a good crop of high timothy hay. They had fires all over the country then as all the farmers were doing the same. We had a log barn to store our hay and grain until the last summer, I was at home when they put up a good frame barn and that year both were well filled.

     "Two years after father died when I was little more than sixteen years of age, I was married. Then my misfortunes commenced. We had five sons and three daughters and had to work very hard to support them. My husband could drink all the money he and I both earned. He wanted children but would not provide for them. This made it very hard for me after being used to plenty. When we were a year and ten months married, our first child was born. About that time pioneers were settling in Muskoka, and my husband went to see the country too, thinking he would make a home for us there. He liked the country fine and so came home to get us. His brother drove us out there with his horses. It was the 21st of January when we started. We went from Alliston to Price's Corners the first day. From there to Michael Bowers near Severn Bridge, about noon the next day, and to Gravenhurst that day and stopped there for the night. We lived in with some other settlers till our shanty was put up. The virgin forest stood at that time untouched by the hand of man. Huntsville was a trading post and there was no railway accommodation north of Barrie. We were not long hewing out a site for our home and we soon settled. That spring my second child arrived and that summer and fall my husband got work helping to cut a road through five miles of bush. The job lasted three or four months, the men were very glad to get the work then as they needed the money to hep them along, but they didn't get much. It was ninety cents a day and board themselves.

     She records that, "As there was no more work when that job was done, we decided to go back to Alliston as the best thing to do, so we started next morning. We walked to Gravenhurst the first day, about 20 miles, and carried the two children and two small bundles and stopped at a hotel for the night. The next morning there were cadge teams returning from a trip up north so we had a ride with them as far as Orillia, about three miles. There were two teams, one to a market sleigh, the other a jumper sleigh. The man who drove the jumper was drunk and not able to manage his horses so he offered my man a free ride if he would drive the team. The other man was boss of the two teams and he charged me $1.50 for myself and the children to ride with him. We got to a half way roadhouse near the Kashe (River). When we arrived here they had to stop and feed the teams. The men also refreshed themselves with a few glasses of beer. My man was feeling pretty good and was not able to manage the horses; as a consequence the horses left the jumper and men sprawling in the snow. The boss left the jumper by the side of the road and assisted the men to get on the horses's backs, and they came along behind us. But the horses were very poor and they had no saddles, and the men were shouting that they wanted a drawing knife to cut the hubbles off the horse's backs.

     We arrived at the next town near night and put up at a hotel. In the morning the children and myself went in the stage to Barrie. My husband said he would walk and arrive there about 3 p.m. He told us where to stay at a hotel till he came along, and he paid the stage driver $1.50 for our fare. It happened the hotel keeper had left and another (stranger to me) was keeping it. Well, I went into the bar room and told the keeper, if a man called inquiring for a woman and two children that he was able to tell him I was waiting in the sitting room. But as it happened there was another man in the bar room when my man arrived, and when he asked for us, the man knew nothing about us. My man then went to another hotel to enquire but could get no word, so he walked the streets till night and gave up looking. He thought I had got a good chance of a ride and went on, so he engaged a room for himself in a hotel and went to bed. I didn't know what could have happened. I thought he must have been drinking again. I had no money and could not get a bed anywhere, so waited in the sitting room till midnight. I began to think we would soon be turned out when they locked up for the night. We were both tired and hungry as we had not had anything to eat, and to think my man was sleeping peacefully in the hotel across the corner. One of my neighbors was at the hotel and was passing the sitting room door when he saw me. He said my man was alright as he had seen him, so he went across the street and found him for me, and he came over so we went to his hotel for the night. We had a bite to eat and a good rest as we were very tired. In the morning we had another lunch in our room and left Barrie carrying the children to Thornton which took all day. We were short of money so had to walk. We went in to get warm and got permission to stay all night but the mistress was very cross and ugly so we travelled on, and didn't stop till we arrived at Cookstown and it took us till bed time."

     I will rejoin the journal penned by Granny Bowers, in tomorrow's blog. Please join me for the conclusion of this compelling pioneering tale. It gets much more interesting. She was a tough lady, with strong convictions and enduring faith in God's goodwill.

Muskoka History Lesson

Cooper's Fall - Photo by Fred Schulz

A MUSKOKA HISTORY LESSON THAT HAS NEARLY BEEN FORGOTTEN

WHAT HARDSHIPS DID MUSKOKA RESIDENTS FACE - WAY BACK WHEN

     I CAN REMEMBER BEING HUGELY OFFENDED BY A MANAGEMENT INDIVIDUAL, AT THE FORMER HERALD-GAZETTE, WHO LAUGHED WHEN I SAID I WAS PREPARING A FASCINATING STORY ABOUT GRANNY  BOWERS FOR THE NEXT ISSUE. HE LOOKED AT ME WITH A SMIRK, AS IF TO SAY, DON'T BOTHER.

    "I HAVEN'T THOUGHT ABOUT OLD GRANNY BOWERS IN YEARS," HE SAID, ''SHE HAD QUITE A REPUTATION YOU KNOW." CONTINUING TO HIGH STEP DOWN THE HALLWAY, I ASKED HIM TO EXPLAIN, BECAUSE "HAVING A REPUTATION" WAS IN MY MIND, SUGGESTING SHE HAD SOMEWHAT LOOSE MORALS. ABOUT THE LAST APPRAISAL I WOULD HAVE AFFORDED THIS STALWART, GOD FEARING WOMAN, WHO SPENT MOST OF HER LIFE ALONE, DESPITE HAVING A LARGE FAMILY. HE JUST SAID SOMETHING LIKE, "SHE WAS WELL KNOWN IN HER DAY," FROM HER LITTLE SHACK ON THE FRASERBURG ROAD, IN BRACEBRIDGE. "SHE DID WHAT SHE HAD TO DO IN ORDER TO SURVIVE I GUESS," HE ADDED, TURNING HIS BACK ON OUR CONVERSATION. I WAS STUNNED BY THIS STATEMENT, AND WANTED TO CHALLENGE HIM FURTHER, BUT BECAUSE I DIDN'T BELIEVE THE ALLEGATION, I JUST LET IT GO. WOULD HE AGREE TO RUN THE FEATURE? WHETHER HE AGREED WITH MY STORY OR NOT, HE DIDN'T SAY ANOTHER WORD TO ME ABOUT IT, AND IT BECAME ONE OF MY MOST COMPLIMENTED PIECES. HEARSAY CAN BE SO CRUEL. IMAGINE HOW SHE WOULD HAVE FELT, HEARING THE SAME KIND OF COMMENTS FROM NEIGHBORS WHO SHE THOUGHT WERE FRIENDS?

     AS I DID MOST OFTEN, I DIDN'T WORRY TOO MUCH ABOUT MANAGEMENT, AND DID MY OWN THING. TO THIS DAY, I'VE NEVER FORGOTTEN THOSE STATEMENTS ABOUT THE RECLUSIVE MRS. BOWERS, AND WHETHER OR NOT SHE DID WHAT THE MAN CLAIMED, DOES NOT ALTER MY OPINION THAT SHE WAS A SURVIVOR OF GOOD FAITH, AND A LOT OF SCHOLARLY FOLKS THOUGHT THE SAME. IN FACT, IT'S A STORY I WANT TO SHARE WITH YOU, FROM A BOOK PUBLISHED IN THE NINETEEN FORTIES, BY THE SOCIETY OF SAINT JOHN THE EVANGELIST, IN BRACEBRIDGE. IT IS A STORY ABOUT PERSONAL HARDSHIP IN THE MUSKOKA WILDS, AND FAITH IN GOD. IT IS ALSO THE HISTORY OF A LITTLE LOG CHURCH ON THE FRASERBURG ROAD, THAT GRANNY BOWERS HAD A HAND IN ESTABLISHING. THE BOOKLET IS VERY RARE AND MY COPY IS STARTING TO FAIL. IT'S A STORY I DON'T WANT LOST IN THE SEA OF NEW LOCAL HISTORIES, BECAUSE IT IS AN IMPORTANT SOCIAL AND MORAL HISTORY, AND A REFLECTION OF JUST HOW DIFFICULT IT WAS TO SETTLE IN SUCH ADVERSE CIRCUMSTANCES, WHERE THERE WAS MORE FOREST THAN OPEN GROUND FOR GROWING CROPS. HERE IS A START TO THE STORY OF GRANNY BOWERS. THE BOOK WAS PURCHASED AT A CHARITY AUCTION IN GRAVENHURST A FEW YEARS AGO.

     THE INTRODUCTION HAS BEEN PROVIDED BY THE SSJE, PUBLISHERS OF THE BOOK, AND THE FATHERS WHO CONDUCTED THE SERVICES AT ST. PETER'S ANGLICAN CHURCH, ON THE FRASERBURG ROAD. IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LITTLE LOG BUILDING, MAKE IT A POINT TO VISIT SOME TIME SOON. I'LL GET YOU STARTED ON THE GUIDED TOUR, BY FIRST VISITING THE BIOGRAPHY OF GRANNY BOWERS.

1942 BRACEBRIDGE

BY FATHER ROLAND PALMER, SSJE.

     "One day, soon after we came to Bracebridge, one of the Fathers was walking out to Purbrook, a Mission, about twelve miles away. It was snowing hard. Presently a team of horses and sleigh caught up with him. A pleasant voice called out ' Want a ride, Father?' He looked up to see Mrs. CPreriddiford, who drove the mail from Fraserburg to Bracebridge and back three times a week. With her was Mrs. Leslie Leeder, a neighbor. The Father replied that he would like a ride, but wondered where he could sit. With all their coats the two good women seemed to fill the only seat. The back of the sleigh was full of mail bags, lengths of stove-pipe, bags of flour and cans of coal oil for people along the road. The kind women pushed over and made room, so that. by putting a timid arm around one of them the Father could stay aboard.

     "We talked of many things as we jogged along, everything from cakes to cancer operations. Every now and then Mrs. Criddiford would blow and blast on her whistle and a youngster would run out from a farmhouse to claim the groceries that she had bought for the family in town. Presently we drew in from the road to a tiny one roomed shack. It was almost dark. The door opened and in the faint light we saw a dear little old lady with apple cheeks and a little round straw hat on her head. 'I haven't got anything for you, Granny, but I just wanted to be sure you were all right.' We drove on. That old lady is Church of England,' said Mrs. Criddiford.

     Father Palmer continues, "It did not take us long to get to know Granny Bowers. She had recently moved to the tiny shack after being burnt out of her home near Falkenburg (north of Bracebridge). She was a churchwoman and missed the services she had attended so regularly at Falkenburg. We began taking her the Holy Communion from time to time. You would arrive with the Blessed Sacrament, which she liked to receive at an early hour, fasting. She had no clock, so sometimes you would knock on the door and she would reply, 'Bless Me! Is it eight o'clock already? You'll have to sit on the step, my boy, until I get my clothes on.' She would dress and open the door. The one room contained a bed, two chairs, a table, a stove and an old cupboard. She spread her only cloth and took her seat at the North end. The Priest laid out the Communion things. Granny followed the service in her big Prayer Book. She read it all aloud - Absolution, Consecration, and Blessing. It meant a lot to her.

     "She depended on water from the roof or from the bottom of the gravel pit. A neighbor boy brought her a pail of drinking water each day. She had a neat little garden where she raised her potatoes and other vegetables. When her son was very ill she begged the fathers to go and annoint him. She had read about it in St. James Epistle. She often said, 'I wish there was a little church I could go to.' At that time no one else in the neighborhood was friendly toward us. 'I have an idea,' said Granny. 'That some day there will be a church on that there rock.' Only once did she get to go to Church. We took her to Vankoughnet for the Confirmation. She was most impressed at 'All those young things giving themselves to God.' She saw the Bishop's staff and asked, 'What was that there pole he carried?' One day dear Mrs. Criddiford, who is the mainstay of the United Church in Fraserburg, came to tell us that Granny was very ill. Father Serson hurried out with the reserved Sacrament. Granny's daughter, herself an old woman, who had come to care for her, said, 'I'm sorry, Mother cannot take the Sacrament. She don't know nobody.' But Granny could. As Father Serson gave her the Sacrement and a few minutes later she died. She knew we would come and she had waited for her viaticum, her food for the journey.

     "Only a few weeks had gone by after her death when quite suddenly the district opened up to us. Mr. Herbert Shire, offered his house for services. Soon a church had to be built. On Granny's rock a lovely little log building was erected and called St. Peter's. It cost very little, for it was made out of an old log stable that the men took down and moved. A generation of children had grown up in that little Church. Many of them are in the King's forces (Second World War) today. There is a very faithful congregation and a fine band of communicants. We believe that as soon as Granny saw her Savior she began to talk about 'That there rock. There should be a church on it.' And we think the Master said, 'Well, if the good soul wants it so badly, give it to her.'

     "We had often heard Granny tell of her experiences. Last winter (1941), her favorite grandchild came to live near St. Peter's. She produced an exercise book in which was written down Granny Bower's own account of her life." (Reverend Roland Palmer)

    Granny Bowers' biography in her own words, begins with the paragraph, "I was sitting here in my little cottage in peace and quietness, and I thought to pass the time, I would write my little story. My thoughts go back to my early life and I wondered if you would like to hear of my hardships, I had to endure in the early pioneering days of Muskoka."

    She writes, "Young people today do not believe these things and so I feel it's not much use telling them. But old folks like myself love to talk over old times together and I sometimes long to be someone of my own age for a really good talk. I am eighty-three years of age. I have six children living, about thirty grandchildren and twenty-five great grand children. I will tell you first about my father. He lived in England when he was young with his parents and one brother, and his father worked in the coal mines. When father was seventeen years old his parents put him to learn the lawyer business. He was three years at that when his boss was shot while fighting a duel and was killed. He went home then and remained there till he was twenty-one.

    The journal continues, "About this time his father died and the property was divided. My father took his portion in money and soon after crossed over to the state of Maine where he completed a course of learning in the doctor's business. Not long after this the Napoleonic War broke out. Father was called upon to offer his services and was with Lord Nelson when he died. In the year 1815 was the Battle of Waterloo and Father also was doctor there. It was not long then till England sent out a band of explorers to explore the North West and father went with them also. He was about forty years of age then and about that time he was married to my mother, a farmer's daughter. They lived there out West till the lower Canadian Rebellion broke out then moved to Quebec, where they stopped a short time. By this time they had twelve children.

     "From Quebec they went to Alliston and drawed farms. The remainder of their children were born there, having twenty in all, eight sons and twelve daughters, of which I was the next to the youngest. The four eldest boys soon were settled on farms of their own. Then father died in 1879 being 83 years old and mother managed the farm till her death eight years later. When she died the place went to the three youngest sons. As was stated in my father's will that any who left the farm, would forfeit any claim to the estate, so when one of the boys left, there was just two to share it. Father gave two sons property in Nebraska near Elkhorn City and one of the remaining boys went to them, leaving one on the homestead. He was married to a fine good woman and had seven sons and four daughters who were reared in plenty. The sons received good trades and two of the girls became high school teachers. Several of the boys went west and settled on good farms and were very thrifty."

     I will continue the biography of Granny Bowers in tomorrow's blog. Please join me for more of this remarkable pioneering story.

Icelanders Found Trees, Rock and Swamps in Muskoka

It was another great day to enjoy the beautiful Trilliums in full bloom.   It’s one of my favourite spring flowers that I never tire of viewing every spring.  - Photo by Fred Schulz

MUSKOKA CIRCA 1873 - AND THE FORESTS, BOGS AND ROCKS STANDING IN THE WAY

ICELANDERS ARRIVE, PROMISES BROKEN, WORK TO BE DONE

     WHEN I READ NEWSPAPER AND MAGAZINE EDITORIALS TODAY, ABOUT THE ECONOMIC DISADVANTAGES OF MUSKOKA, AND THE HIGH LEVEL OF POVERTY WITHIN THE DISTRICT, I GET THE SENSE EVERYTHING THE WRITER'S KNOW ABOUT THIS SITUATION, IS VERY MUCH IN THE PRESENT......AS IT SHOULD BE, FOR THE RELEVANCE OF TODAY'S NEWS. BUT YOU SIMPLY CAN'T UNDERSTAND THE ISSUE OF ECONOMIC DISADVANTAGE AND INEQUALITY, WITHOUT KNOWING SOMETHING OF THE HISTORY OF THE REGION, FROM ITS OPENING YEARS OF SETTLEMENT......BECAUSE THIS WAS THE SEED, AND THE TRADITION, OF WHAT WE HAVE TODAY, WHERE THE RESIDENTS STILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE CHALLENGES OF A SEASONAL ECONOMY. WHAT APPEARED A GREAT OPPORTUNITY TO DESTITUTE IMMIGRANTS, AS FREE LAND GRANTS, WASN'T QUITE AS FREEDOM-FRIENDLY AS IT WAS BEING PROMOTED BY GOVERNMENT LAND AGENTS, WORKING ON BEHALF OF THE CANADIAN GOVERNMENT, TO ATTRACT SETTLERS TO THE EVER-EXPANDING NATIONAL FRONTIER.

     MANY POOR FAMILIES ARRIVED IN THE HEAVILY FORESTED REGION, WITHOUT THE MEANS OF SUPPORT FOR DAYS, LET ALONE MONTHS AND YEARS. I OFTEN DRAW ON THE HISTORY OF THE ICELANDIC IMMIGRATION TO MUSKOKA, AS AN EXAMPLE OF HOW GOVERNMENT PLAYED A PIVOTAL ROLE IN SETTLING THE INHOSPITABLE LANDS, AND FACILITATING MANY PERSONAL TRAGEDIES. MANY HOMESTEADERS DIED AS A DIRECT RESULT OF THE HARDSHIPS OF FRONTIER LIVING. THEY HAD BEEN LURED FROM URBAN POVERTY IN EUROPE, AND WITHOUT THE FARMING CAPABILITIES, AND MUCH RURAL EXPERIENCE TO DRAW ON, WERE THRUST INTO THE CANADIAN WILDERNESS TO CARVE OUT HOMESTEADS. JUST THE MISTRUTHS ABOUT THE QUALITY AND QUANTITY OF ARABLE LAND, ON THE ROCK SHELF MUSKOKA RESTS UPON, LED HOMESTEADERS TO BELIEVE THEY WOULD BE ABLE TO SURVIVE ON THE CROPS RAISED......AND CONTRIBUTED TO SOME RECKLESS DECISIONS. THE ICELANDERS FACED ALL OF THIS, AND AS THERE ARE FEW TREES IN ICELAND TO COMPARE WITH THE TALL PINES OF MUSKOKA, THEIR BURDENS BECAME SO MUCH GREATER WHEN THEY SAW THE MASSIVE, OPPRESSIVE FORESTS OF MUSKOKA, ON THE STEAMSHIP PASSAGE TO ROSSEAU.

     THE ICELANDERS FORGED A TIGHT COMMUNITY, AND SOME HISTORIANS WOULD AGREE, THIS HELPED THEM SURVIVE THE FIRST BRUTAL YEARS, TRYING TO COPE WITH THE NATURAL OBSTACLES AND WEATHER EVENTS, THAT KEPT FARMSTEADS STRUGGLING, WITH ONLY MODEST IMPROVEMENTS, AND MANY SET-BACKS. A SUBSTANTIAL NUMBER OF SETTLERS, WORKING ALONE IN ISOLATION, FAILED AND MOVED TO MORE SETTLED AREAS. THE REALITY OF ISOLATION TOOK ITS TOLL ON THOSE WHO WERE USED TO URBAN LIVING IN EUROPE.

      I WOULD LIKE TO RESUME THE STORY OF THE ICELANDIC SETTLEMENT IN MUSKOKA, WHICH BEGAN IN 1873, WITH NOTATIONS TAKEN FROM A TRANSLATED JOURNAL.

THE AUTUMN OF 1873 IN HEKKLA, MUSKOKA

     "One mild morning in October 1873, the wives and families of Baldwin Helgasson and David Davisson started out to walk from Rosseau, arriving at their home by evening. Some places they had to climb over large rocks. No sun could reach the roots of the trees because of the dense growth. Mr. Helgasson and Mr. Davidsson brought the belongings of their families in a rowboat up the Rosseau River, having to portage on more than one occasion, making the trip twice as long. The two families, making a total of nine persons, had to crowd into this sixteen foot by fourteen foot home and because of their extreme hospitality often had visitors. Two unmarried immigrants, Jakob Lindal and Bjarni Snaebjornsson, built a small house that fall, in which to spend the winter. They were the first Icelanders to build a house in Canada. Helgasson and Davidsson were the first landowners. These four men built the roads in front of their properties. These men also put forth extreme effort to complete their part of the road so the task of toting their supplies from Rosseau, one day, would not be so time consuming. The winter of 1874 was very severe with deep snow and hard frost.

     "The Icelanders' greatest worry was the lack of work and poor pay. They had been told on the way over from Iceland that work was plentiful at Rosseau and they would be able to get work when established. In Muskoka they were told there was an all-Icelandic settlement but this proved false. These strangers in a strange land were discouraged, poor, and had a language barrier. After a short stay in Canada many went to the United States. Some went to different places in Ontario, including Toronto. Work was not plentiful in Toronto either. The collapse of the New York banks were blamed for the shortage of work in Ontario. Vigfus Sigurdsson, the bookbinder, was one of six men who walked the 24 miles from Rosseau to Parry Sound to procure work in a sawmill. They were promised six weeks work which lasted sixteen days and for which they were paid ten dollars. The immigrants were delighted with the many lakes, rivers and trees in Muskoka, also the abundance of wild fruit and maple syrup. Their first homes were built of logs, chinked with wet moss, which hardened like mortar. These cottages were cozy, warm and attractive.

     "Some Icelanders chose Kinmount, in Haliburton, in which to make their homes; however a few fared worse than those in Muskoka. Discouraged with conditions and lack of adequate work, together with an offer of free transportation, many of the Icelanders who had not established themselves in Ontario, left for New Iceland in Manitoba. Baldwin Helgasson and his wife Sofia were life and soul in the Icelandic community in Cardwell. They named their place 'Baldurshage,' and David Davidsson named his home 'Lundi.' Those who established themselves in the locality were Jakob Lindal at 'Lagre-Hvammi,' Bjarni Snaebjornsson, at 'Bjarnarstodum,' Thorsteinn Hallrimsson at 'Laufasi,' Brynjolfur Johnsson at 'Halsi,' Anton Kristjansson, at 'Blidand,' and Angair V. Baldwinsson. These are all recorded as the first farmers in Cardwell by Helga Baldwinsdottir Belgasanar.

     "The later settlers, Helga reports, had friends to meet them upon their arrival and did not experience the difficulties the first group of people had to contend with. 'We were charged double the price of articles that others had to pay. For a pie cut in six pieces, one piece cost us twenty-five cents. My father bought a cow for sixty-five dollars while the real price was only twenty-five to thirty dollars. We were beginning to speak some english, as we had learned some of the language the last winter in Iceland. My father had a little money and that may have been the reason he was charged more than others; but he loaned quite a bit of money to others who did not, or could not pay it back.

     "In the year 1874, two other Icelanders arrived in Muskoka. Arni Jonsson, a nephew of Baldwin Helgasson, who was  a minister and professor, stayed three years and returned to Iceland. The other, Baring Hallgrimsson, who married Jakob Lindal's sister, moved with them to North Dakota in 1881. The only social events in Hekkla were a birthday or a christening, as there were so few settlers. On Sundays Baldwin Helgasson had Bible readings and hymn sings (as they had done in Iceland) where all the settlers gathered at Baldursaga. He acted as minister for these services, at a funeral and at a christening, as well as being called to a sick bed. Olafur Thoreirsson writes about Baldwon Helgasson; 'He was the first and foremost to the Icelandic people in Muskoka in every effort undertaken. He was cheerful, proud, artistic, learned, a good writer, expert carpenter, trained blacksmith, an athlete, a good singer, public speaker, and yet a very humble man. Sofia, his wife, was 18 years of age when she and Baldwin married. She was the prettiest girl in the country, well educated with many accomplishments. She was very generous and unselfish. For 20 years she was an invalid and then taken to Winnipeg for medical treatment but she died on the 23rd of October 1902.

     "Mr. Case, an Irishman, his wife and two daughters, were neighbors of Baldwin and Sofia. He was a capable, diligent, hardworking man. He taught Baldwin how to sow the seed on the land, tend the garden crops, cut potatoes for planting and many other things. The maple trees were tapped and Mrs. Case showed how the sap was boiled for making the maple syrup and maple sugar. This was a grand success as Baldwin sold 200 pounds of maple sugar at fifteen cents a pound, as well as a lot of syrup, keeping plenty for their own consumption. Mrs. Case taught them how to make soap out of the lye from ashes that saved buying the commodity; also to make braided straw hats of wheat and oat stalks for sunshade in the heat. Netting was worn over these straw hats, for protection against the ravages of flies and mosquitoes that the people weren't used to, suffered from in the first years. Mr. Case was an expert in taming oxen and it fell to him to train the oxen for neighbors. He never used the whip but kept up a constant chatter with them, and they soon seemed to understand what he was saying. Most of the oxen were called Buck and Bill. He would call to Buck who would come forward and then Bill, where they would stand together for the yoke to be put on their necks. He was so good and patient in training them.

     "In 1880, Baldwin Helgasson moved from Muskoka to North Dakota where he bought a farm. He sold it and lived in several different places. In 1881, all the Icelanders from Muskoka, with their families, moved to North Muskoka, except Bjarni Snaebjornsson and David Davidsson at Lund. Asgeir Baldvinsson went to North Dakota but after a few years returned to Muskoka and bought Lund from David Davidsson, who moved to North Dakota. In the year 1878, Gisli Einarson and his brother Jakob, sister Arnbjorg and their mother Magnusdottir came to Muskoka. Maria kept house for Bjarni Snaebjornsson until Jakob married Jorurn Pallsdottir who, with her father Pall Snaebjornsson and her two sisters, Solveig and Godrun, arrived in 1887. Jakob took over Bjarnarstodum as Bjarni Snaebjornsson had willed it to him at his death in 1897.

     "Gisli Tomansson and Gudmunder Asgeirsson were new farmers coming in 1883. A post office was opened and named Hekla.' Asgier tried to have a 'k' taken from the word but was unsuccessful (Hekla, the volcano, has only one k in its name). Asgier was the first postmaster. He was district manager and county official for many years and earned the trust and respect of the people as his father did before him. In 1907 he moved to Edmonton and later to the Pacific Coast. The Icelanders in the Muskoka settlement have always lived in harmony and co-operation with each other. In 1888 Pall Snaebjornsson organized a reading and study society and it wasn't long before a great many good Icelandic books were purchased. The Lutheran faith was adhered to by reading old religious books with satisfaction and attending the Sunday services. When Icelandic people came to Muskoka they were very poor and friendless but they have progressed better than the people from other countries who lived in the same area.  The forests were cut down and large, well cultivated fields were in evidence. Nice homes and barns were built. In the years to come, although no Icelanders will be living there, the english speaking people will refer to them as hard working, independent and trustworthy, indicative of their Icelandic heritage."

     In tomorrow's blog, I will publish a letter from 1887 by Pall Snaebjornsson, from Hekkla, detailing the voyage from Iceland to Canada. It begins, "As last I sit down to write you a few lines, but first and foremost I want to send you my thanks for all the latest and last goodness to us before we left Iceland. I will try to give you details of our journey from Poroddstom. We left at noon, Tuesday, August 23rd, and went aboard the chip 'Cameons' and embarked the next morning. Right away, as we were passing Flagastodaboda, there was quite a lot of ice and fog. It took two days to get to Homi and 24 hours from there to Reykjavik. We got there on Saturday morning, August 28th, in good weather and it took us six days to get to Granton in Scotland. Inspectors came to inspect our luggage but didn't find any tobacco or whiskey. Nothing else seemed to be of importance to them, for these were the only things they seemed concerned about. Our luggage was taken at once to the train and it went on to Glasgow, but we were taken off the dock and put into a boat and taken across the sea where ships go. When we docked, we went right away into a train and left at once. We went swiftly, like a bird, and it was hard to see through the windows for the heads of other people, but what we saw seemed beautiful scenery in Scotland, everywhere."

     Join me for the next chapter of the Icelandic story, in tomorrow's blog.

1873 Arrival Of Icelanders in Muskoka

Photo by Fred Schulz

1873 AND THE ICELANDERS' ARRIVAL IN MUSKOKA

OFF TO NORTH CARDWELL, AND A NEW SETTLEMENT

     THERE IS A POEM, WRITTEN BY REVEREND NILS WILLISON THAT CHARACTERIZES THE HOMESTEADERS WHO HEADED INTO THE THICK BUSH, BOGS, HILLS AND LAKES OF THE MUSKOKA DISTRICT. THE POEM WAS WRITTEN IN 1944, AND IT REKINDLES THE SPIRIT OF THOSE OFTEN BRUTAL YET REMARKABLE TIMES, OF HOME AND FAMILY ISOLATION.

     "HOW SOON THEY PASS - THE OBJECTS OF OUR LOVES.

     THE LILY BLOOMS, THE SONG OF THE BIRD IS HEARD;

     THEY ARE NO MORE. LIKE FAITHFUL HOMING DOVES,

     OUR DEAR ONES FOR RETURN TO GOD ARE STIRRED,

     OUR LOVED ONE PASSED THE NOON OF MAN'S BRIEF DAY,

     THEN NOON FOR HIM WAS MERGED IN FAIRER LIGHT."

      THESE ARE HAUNTING LINES WHEN RECITED, JUST NOW, WHILE LOOKING OVER THE VALLEY BEYOND THE TINY WOOD-FRAME CHURCH, SEEING THE NOSTALGIC CONTRASTS OF LIGHT AND SHADOW ON OLD FARMSTEADS....HEARING THE WIND BRUSHING THROUGH THE LONG GRASS ON THE HILLSIDE.  WE MIGHT EXPECT TO SEE REVEREND WILLISON LOOKING OVER THE PIONEER GRAVEYARD, AT THE TINY HEKKLA CHURCH, WHERE THE ICELANDIC COMMUNITY GATHERED TO PRAY.

     IN THE REFERENCE TEXT ENTITLED, "THESE OUR ANCESTORS WERE - DISTRICTS OF PARRY SOUND AND MUSKOKA," COMPILED IN 1974 BY THE SENIOR CITIZENS GENEALOGICAL SOCIETY, THE NAMES OF HEKKLA'S SETTLERS, BURIED ON lOT 16, CONCESSION 7, CARDWELL TOWNSHIP ARE LISTED. BURIED BESIDE THE FIRST ICELANDIC SETTLERS ARE PIONEERS OF OTHER NATIONALITIES WHO HAD ARRIVED IN THE COMMUNITY SHORTLY AFTER THE FIRST FEW HOMESTEAD LOTS WERE CLAIMED. IN THE SHADOW OF THE HEKKLA CHURCH, CONSTRUCTED ON THE SITE IN 1901, ARE THE TOMBSTONES OF REMEMBRANCE.....A TIME WHEN SETTLERS STRUGGLED TO MAKE THE BEST OF AN ADVERSE SITUATION. MANY PERISHED WITHOUT FINISHING THEIR TASK, WHILE OTHERS LASTED LONG ENOUGH TO WATCH THE FIRST PLANTING RISE IN STRONG SPRING SHOOTS. THE FORTUNATE ONES WERE ABLE TO TASTE AND FEEL THE TEXTURE OF SUCCESS AT HARVEST TIME.

PEACE IN THE CHURCHYARD

     The churchyard is a tranquil, spiritual place, obviously inherent to cemeteries, situated quaintly on a hillside overlooking some of the Hekkla pasture land, cleared in the 1870's, by the first settlers to build their humble shanties and barns. Many of the Icelandic names carved onto the tombstones are spelled incorrectly. It was not a reflection of dislike for the Icelanders, rather an ignorance of proper spelling of the often lengthy Icelandic names. "Bjarni" might be reduced to "Barney" by the English workers, responsible for tombstone inscribing.

     The homesteaders shared much common ground regardless of their motherlands, language, religion and cultural differences. They were all searching for fulfillment of promises made by government officials. Equally, many pioneers shared the agony of broken promises and shattered dreams, while still faced with the demands of everyday survival. For decades, the vision of prosperity was remote as settlers were forced to deal with crop failure, and endless homestead clearing and burning to create more arable farmland. And even then the amount of good farmland, located in shallow pockets between forests, bogs and rock, was little in comparison to the better agricultural lands to the south and west. Some disappointments followed the settlers to the grave. Other Icelanders joined the exodus to new and promising communities such as Kinmount, North Dakota and Western Canada. Today the only reminder of the Icelanders' attempt to settle in some of these hamlets, are the weather-worn headstones on cemetery plots, and obscure historical references found in regional archives. Yet there were parallel success stories in a majority of Icelandic settlements, and family members still occupy the communities set up as far back as the 1870's. Hekkla has many similar stories of perseverance and success. The names on the tombstones are a poignant reminder of the Icelandic-Canadian experience, from the first trail broken to the hamlet, by pioneer axe and saw, to the present, and the kin of those settlers, still residing in the district they helped open for all others.

A PERSPECTIVE ON THE YEAR 1873

     To get a proper perspective of Muskoka, at this time of pioneer settlement, circa 1873, we will firstly examine what the settler might have witnessed and physically endured on the land and water journey northward, from the transportation linkage from Toronto, by rail, then steamer, and cart. A journal entry written in the 1870's, by another pioneer, (published in the text of "Muskoka and Haliburton," by Florence Murray), reports on the treacherous journey, as being most discouraging. "We landed at Washago, and after standing for more than an hour on the quay, took the stage-wagon for Gravenhurst; the vehicle being so crowded that even the personal baggage, most essential to our comfort, had to be left behind. Oh, the horrors of that journey. The road was most dreadful - our first acquaintance with corduroy roads. The forest gradually closed in on us, on fire on both sides, burnt trees crashing down in all directions, here and there, one right across the road, which had to be dragged out of the way before we could go on. Your brother with his arm around me the whole time (I clinging to the collar of his coat), could hardly keep me steady as we bumped over every obstacle.      "In the worst places, I was glad to shut my eyes that I might not see the danger. Your poor sister had to cling convulsively to the rope which secured the passengers' baggage (ours was left behind and we did not see it for weeks) to avoid being thrown out and for long afterwards we both suffered from the bruises we received and the strain on our limbs. At last, long after dark, we arrived at Gravenhurst, where we were obliged to sleep, but we had a good supper on board and a gentlemanly Englishman, a passenger by the stage and well acquainted with Muskoka, took us to a small hotel to sleep. The next morning we went to Bracebridge."

     The following excerpt is a translation of Icelandic journal accounts, regarding the venture to Muskoka's North Cardwell in 1873.

     "In a previous chapter to the one I am attempting to translate, I (the late Bena Grenke), read that a group of Icelanders coming to Canada were 165 people; 115 were supposed to go to Muskoka. They had been promised shelter, 200 acres of free land and other provisions, providing they stayed three months. After that time they were free to go wherever they wished. There was some trouble about the 50 people who were to go to Milwaukee by the immigration officer, as he felt they should stay in Canada but their papers allowed them to go.

 From there, "On August 22nd, 1873, these people left Quebec City by railway to Montreal. It was dark when they arrived at Cobourg but they continued their journey arriving in Toronto the next morning at 8 p.m. August 27th. It had taken them 42 hours, 510 miles from Quebec to Toronto with stops. The Milwaukee people left Toronto for Wisconsin, going to Sarnia, across the St. Clair River and on to Milwaukee."

     An abbreviated journal account, dealing with the movement of settlers northward, introduces the reader to the eventual arrival of the Icelandic party in Muskoka.

     "They left Toronto by rail on August 29th, arriving at Washago at 2 p.m. From there by horses and wagons, they travelled to Gravenhurst, which took a number of hours. After spending the night in Gravenhurst, they continued their journey by boat (steamship), to Rosseau, arriving very late in the evening. All passengers spent the night at Immigration House on the bay."

     For clarification of the situation, "Immigration House," is described by author D.V. Stott, in his book entitled "Kawandag.....The Story of a Changing Market," with the following reference:

     "On the point of land closest to Inglenook, was a structure known originally as the Immigrant Shed. Built by the government in the 1860's, this three or four room frame building was designed to house travellers who were making their way via the Muskoka Lakes to the free grant lands. Some settlers had the necessary funds to arrange proper hotel accommodation but the poorer folks would seek shelter in this shed while waiting for the next stage to depart on the Nipissing Road."

     The Icelander's journal entry continues:

     "Early the next morning, August 31, the Immigration Officer, J.B. Beat, and some villagers, came to welcome them as the news of their arrival had been sent to Toronto. They were taken into the Immigration House, and provided with bread, meat, syrup and tea. Icelanders felt bad at not receiving coffee. (A beverage consumed by many Icelanders). There was not enough room in the Immigration House for the big group so most of the men slept outside in the bush back of the house. They didn't  mind as the weather was warm. They were fed for three days and after that each was on his own but they could sleep in the Immigration House. Some men got a bit of work but none got steady occupation. When the Icelanders arrived in Rosseau they were told that there was land fifteen miles north of Rosseau that they could  get ownership of."

     Additional journal documentation list the following names part of the original group of Icelanders in Muskoka: "Vigfusar Sigurdsson, bookbinder, Anton Kristjansson, Bryn Jolfur Jonsson, Thorsteinn Hallgrimsson, Bjorn Skagford, Benedikt Jonsson bardal, Rafn Jonsson, Bjarni Snaebjornsson, Jakob Lindal and Sigridur, a widow. These immigrants were advised by the town officials that crown land could be procured north of Rosseau. These Icelanders travelled by foot to look at this land but found it unsuitable for farmland. Some Danish, Swedes and Norwegians later settled on this land and praised it. After looking over this crown land to the north of Rosseau it was decided to travel easterly six miles into Cardwell Township. Four men were in this party. The names were Baldwin Helgasson, David Davidson, Anton Kristjansson and Jon Hgalmarsson. A guide from Rosseau went with these men as it was completely through forest that they had to travel (in part however, along the Rosseau River). It seemed fertile. Also a road was promised to them for the next summer. (A waiting period lasted two weeks before permission was granted for a claim) These men were to cut wood for seventy-five cents a cord. This remuneration was not adequate to provide for food and shelter, and winter wasn't far distant. Two hundred acres of land with a house 14 feet by 16 feet was purchased for one hundred and fifty dollars by Baldwin Helgasson and David Davidsson. An agreement with settlers and with the district management to build three miles of road was entered into at forty-five dollars per mile. Food was advanced to them with the understanding that payment would be charged against their earnings. Although inexperienced with the use of axes and road-making, three quarters of a mile was finished before winter set in. Their wages would have averaged fifty cents per day. They had measured for the road and blazed the trees on each side where the road would be. Had it not been for the generosity of two friends, one in Canada and one in Iceland, the first winter for the immigrants would have been grim."

     We will re-join the history of Icelandic settlement in Muskoka, in tomorrow's blog. Thanks so much for joining chapter three of this important aspect of regional history. Please join me again.

Icelanders In Muskoka, Hardships Encountered

It was another great day to enjoy the beautiful Trilliums in full bloom.   It’s one of my favourite spring flowers that I never tire of viewing every spring.  Photo by Fred Schulz

PART TWO - THE ICELANDIC COMMUNITY IN HEKKLA, MUSKOKA

FROM STEERAGE TO HOMESTEAD

     VERY FEW OF US KNOW THAT THERE IS A COMMUNITY NAMED HEKKLA, IN THE NORTHERN PART OF THE DISTRICT OF MUSKOKA. FEWER KNOW THAT IT WAS NAMED BY ITS ICELANDIC SETTLERS, AFTER A VOLCANO IN THEIR HOMELAND. IT WAS IN THE 1870'S, THAT CANADIAN GOVERNMENT LAND AGENTS, BESTOWED RIGOROUS AND UNRELENTING PROMOTION TO THE POOR AND DESTITUTE IN MANY EUROPEAN COUNTRIES, ABOUT GENEROUS HOMESTEAD LAND GRANTS AVAILABLE IN ONTARIO, (SPECIFICALLY MUSKOKA). THE CAMPAIGN FOR SETTLERS, CAUGHT THE ATTENTION OF THE ICELANDERS. MANY WHO LOOKED AT THE NEW LAND AS A GREAT OPPORTUNITY TO ESCAPE THE LIMITATIONS OF THEIR OWN NATIONAL AND PERSONAL ECONOMIES. THE HOMESTEAD OPPORTUNITIES WERE LESS THAN ACCURATE, AS THE ICELANDERS WOULD FIND OUT TOO LATE ON THEIR JOURNEY TO PARADISE. IT SHOULD BE NOTED AS WELL, THAT GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS, KNEW CERTAIN CULTURES WOULD OPT TO SETTLE TOGETHER, AS IS EVIDENCED ACROSS THE COUNTRY, AND THE ICELANDERS FELL INTO THIS GROUPING. THEY DID STAY TOGETHER, AND BUILD THEIR COMMUNITIES, AS WAS THE CASE, FOR EXAMPLE, IN GIMLI, MANITOBA, A WELL KNOWN AND HIGHLY SUCCESSFUL ICELANDIC-CANADIAN COMMUNITY.

THE SETTLERS' GUIDE BOOK

     On February 21st, 1871, two years before a group of Icelanders landed in the hinterland of Muskoka, author-historian Thomas McMurray, published an account of the rough-hewn and largely wild region. Entitled the "History of the Early Settlement of Muskoka," the author included the following information, aimed at both potential settlers and investors. The particular passage, most appropriate to the subject matter of this story, falls under the heading "A Home in the Wild Woods," and puts expectations and reality into clear but entirely biased perspective. Somewhat stark and frightening, Mr. McMurray does offer some encouragement to the pioneer but not without a word to the wise. In short, the going was to be tragically difficult; complicated by the harsh environment and the immediate survival requirements faced by each new arrival on the Ontario frontier. In the words of the 1871  historian and publisher, the year's potential in Muskoka is explored, analyzed, yet promoted as a substantially rewarding investment under the most embellished circumstances. There should have been dire warnings included, but as McMurray had a vested interest in both selling books, and as a businessman in Muskoka, the warnings, if there were any of note, were weak and mostly just casual advisories.......as what a parent might say to a child going on a first camping trip. Be careful out there. In the case of the  settlers, the advisories weren't enough, to discourage those who should have never attempted building a home in the wild woods.

     "Having made up your minds to take advantage of the Free Land Grants of land, (in Muskoka), lose not time but proceed without delay. We have known some who, on their arrival, frittered away their means and time in cities, and then, when their money was all gone, would make for the bush. (Instead, McMurray wanted the money spent in Muskoka instead) Shun such folly and do not delay a day; remember, time is money, and you will require every shilling you have to enable you to clear your farm and to keep you till you raise some crops, so do not waste a penny. On your arrival procure lists of the unoccupied lots and make a thorough examination of the land before locating; this is of great importance; your choice is for life and your success or otherwise depends to a great extent upon the choice you make. There is an abundance of good land to choose from. Some take almost the first lot they see, without proper examination, and after a time get discouraged. The plan is to take time, in the first instance, and make a wise selection, then begin and work with a will."

     He writes, "The class of settlers best adapted for the country are strong able men who will not be discouraged at every little incident they meet; men who have both vigour and courage to grapple with and overcome difficulties; men who are willing to live bare, work hard and put up with many inconveniences for a few years. At the same time it must be observed that these have not yet and humanely speaking, never will be, such hardships encountered in this settlement as they have been in many others. There is the good colonization road, the many mills and stores, and there is employment to be got at good wages. There are great advantages; still, there is the land to clear and fence, houses and barns to build, and roads to make, and any one coming here expecting to find all the conveniences of an old settlement will be disappointed." McMurray knows what the truth is, but fails to make it as clear as he could have, that those settlers without a background in agriculture, should stay away from the frontier lifestyle. As far as jobs? The author takes great liberties, and was wrong to have made this claim.

     He goes on to suggest, "Those on the other hand, who are willing to economize and work hard for a few years, may expect to see their labour crowned with success, and to obtain and enjoy all the comforts of life in houses of their own. Many have come here with only a few dollars and have got on wonderfully, but not without losing valuable time while working from home. A single man, or one with a very small family, might make a commencement with very little means. But to get oxen, a cow, feed, seed, and provisions, one would require to have something like five hundred dollars, with which properly managed he will have every prospect of success. Many however, have gone into the woods with only an axe and a will to use it and have been quite successful. In a new settlement there are always persons willing to sell out for the purpose of raising a little money to enable them to make a better start on another lot, and generally it will be best for those who have sufficient means and not much experience to buy some partly improved place. Lots with from 10 to 20 acres cleared may be got from three hundred to one thousand dollars according to quality of land and situation. In some localities lots with a few acres cleared can be obtained for less. Men thinking of coming into the bush should consider well before making a move. If they can do as well elsewhere they should not come here; similarly those who can benefit themselves by leaving should lose no time in doing so. There may be some here who should never have come; but there are many who are not here who should be here."

     Noted Muskoka History, Robert J. Boyer, in his book entitled, "A Good Town Grew Here," wrote the following statement to clear misconceptions about settlement and economic investment in the District:

     "There are those who seek to understand the economic background of Bracebridge and Muskoka and often they bring their study the thought that as elsewhere agriculture must be the mainstay of settlement and development. It is the fact that Muskoka was included with the southern parts of Ontario in messages sent in the 1860's and 1870's, to prospective immigrants from the British Isles, advising of opportunities in this part of the world. Authorities who co-operated in offering a better way of life for the impoverished or the adventurous across the Atlantic, did well to point out that farming could be very successful in this province, and legislative action was taken to make land available for new settlers by means of free or nearly free grants. Muskoka was included in this. The government desired to extend the frontier farther north. The response was greater in Muskoka, however, than circumstances warranted - there was a limited amount of tillable land. So it was that disappointed ones, and others who found it difficult to settle here, faced with intensive and often unrewarding effort, moved elsewhere."

     In a much later Agricultural Report, in the 1880's, it is clearly stated, that the settlement program for the Muskoka lakeland, had worked well in the 1860's and 1870's, and many of the pioneers had created successful homesteads, and were able to eke out comfortable livings, however meagre that survival had been for those trial decades. When I suggest "trial", this is exactly what the Commission's Report noted, that basically, the experiment in land settlement had worked. If settlers could be even modestly successful, building farmsteads on the rugged and bog-filled topography of Muskoka, with its lack of tillable land, then even lesser quality land in the north, could be settled in much the same fashion. Basically the co-operation of the governments, set this settlement project-up, to measure success and failure, and knowing that there were many thousands of acres of unsuitable land, they wanted developed in the future........in order to populate the country sea to sea. Which would one day soon, of course, warrant a transcontinental railway, and the claim of the all the land to the west coast, in case the Americans decided to take a run at the unclaimed lands to the north.

     How many deceased settlers, directly related to the bad gamble, of homesteading in a tough environs, was acceptable to the government.....which had, in the first place, embellished the quality of the land, and opportunities available to courageous settlers, wishing to take up free land grants. A lot did perish. Many fled, after a few years of struggle. Some engaged in the first round of property speculation, selling off their cleared land for a thin profit......and later, lakefront, once there were steamships operating on the Muskoka Lakes.

    The Icelanders found out about these shortfalls in promises, in the early 1870's, and it added considerable weight to the burden they were already forced to carry. Just consider, for a moment, the fact, that because of their northerly situation, and the fact they have volcanic eruptions (ongoing today) regularly, there is little comparison between the trees in their homeland, and what they found in the region of North Cardwell, where trees, rock and bogs made up most of the visual landscape. They weren't known as loggers, but they were forced to adapt to the prevailing conditions. In fact, to help themselves financially, they agreed to work with the provincial authority, to clear paths for new colonization roadways.

     Historian George Hutcheson, in his book, "Head and Tales," wrote a brief profile of those first years opening up the district:

     "Until about the middle of the 19th century, Muskoka might well be called a 'no man's land,' abounding in game and fur bearing animals; the hunting ground of roving Indians; a land of wild beauty awaiting the coming of the white man. Up to this time (1860's), the only white influence was the occasional trading posts, the most important of which was near the mouth of the Muskoka River at Lake Muskoka (about five miles below Bracebridge). What a glowing picture was painted by the government to entice prospective settlers to that part of Ontario. They were led to believe that here was rich farming land, covered with virgin forest, only waiting to be cleared and planted to yield a bountiful harvest. There was a virgin forest all right, but mostly it was covered by rocks and stones, and to clear, and plow even a small plot, entailed hours and hours of patient back-bearing labour. But they came by the hundreds, rich and poor, learned and unlearned, some for adventure, but the majority to make homes for themselves. Many of them would pick out a location on the map, only to find after almost insuperable hardships, on reaching the places, that it was nothing more than a rock pile. Many stone fences still attest to the hard work and bitter disappointment that must have been the lot of many of the settlers in trying to carve out a home in the wilderness."

     In tomorrow's blog, I will invite you back with me, to re-visit the arrival of the Icelandic settlers, in the hamlet of Rosseau, in the early 1870's, (fall of the year) in preparation for their trek back to settlement land in North Cardwell.......which they would eventually name after the volcano, Hekkla. I'm still not sure whether they intended this name to be complimentary, legendary, or because it reminded them of the barren, foreboding topography of the volcano in their homeland. Please join me. If you're interested in finding out, just how difficult it was, to be a homesteader in this beautiful district......(the one we enjoy today), during this free land grants period......don't miss chapter three. You can archive back for the previous chapter.