Hidden Ontario

by Terry Boyle

  Did this mean that the lumbering operations were stopped forever? No! The act did not entirely stop logging operations in the park. Not long after the act was passed, construction began on the Ottawa, Arnprior and Parry Sound Railway, which was completed in 1897. Rail transportation was important to the logging industry, and logging companies now saw fit to strip portions of forest in the southwestern section of the park. These lumber companies even built spur lines that could be dismantled once the best trees were cut. It wasn’t until 1959, 65 years after the birth of the park, that rail service was discontinued.

  The first white woman known to visit the Algonquin region was Susanna Moodie, a noted Canadian writer. She and her family took a canoe trip into the area in 1835. Other artists were also drawn to Algonquin and some never left. It was the rugged wilderness and incredible terrain that drew them. The first group, a small party of painters, arrived on Canoe Lake in 1902: W.W. Alexander, David Thomson, and Robert Holmes. They were eager to visit some of the remaining lumber camps and explored Opeongo, the largest lake in the park. They were followed by other artists such as J.W. Beatty, J.E.H. McDonald, Arthur Lismer, A.Y. Jackson, and a young man by the name of Tom Thomson.

  Algonquin Park meant many things to this talented artist. Each summer Thomson explored the wilderness, and, inspired by what he saw, captured the essence of Canada in his celebrated paintings. In 1917, a tragedy took place: Tom Thomson died! Some say he drowned, accidentally, in Canoe Lake, while others whispered murder. Whatever happened, it remains both a mystery and a great loss of artistic talent.

  Highway 60, running through the southwestern corner of the park, was completed in 1935, and from 1947 to 1948 it was paved. In 1972 more than 60,000 visitors camped in the park’s interior. Three years later 683,661 tourists enjoyed the park — 10 times as many!

  To celebrate the 100th anniversary of Algonquin Park, a visitor centre was opened in 1993. The centre has world-class exhibits on the natural and human history of the park, a relaxing restaurant, an excellent bookstore, and “The Algonquin Room,” which holds exhibitions of Algonquin art, then and now. A theatre presentation sums up the park story, and a viewing deck puts in all in perspective.

  Visitors interested in the logging history of the park can visit the Algonquin Logging Museum, located just inside the east gate. The museum brings the story of logging to life, from the early square timber days to the last of the great river drives.

  Algonquin Park also offers the canoeist 1,500 kilometres (about 930 miles) of canoe routes throughout the district. The backpacker has a choice of three trails to hike: the Highland, Western Uplands, or Eastern Pines. These trails have loops ranging from 6 to 88 kilometres (4 to 55 miles) in length.

  Although the Park is, to some, overburdened with campers, the wilderness camper still has a few choices, but they have to work harder, go farther, and settle for more company along the way. It is an excellent place to holiday, a great learning experience for children, and it remains an inspirational landscape for painters and photographers alike. Let us give a salute to the foresight of Alexander Kirkwood, and others who followed, for correcting the path of less-than-pretty history!

  Bala

  For more than half a century, dancers and music lovers have frolicked beneath the moon and stars to the chords that drifted and echoed from Dunn’s Pavillion. For more than a century, tourists, fishermen, and hunters have thronged by horse and buggy, by train, by boat, and by automobile to this picturesque setting that winds around Lake Muskoka and the wide Moon River. Magnificent hotels, quaint stone churches, humble and glorious summer houses — they are all here in one of Ontario’s tiniest towns, the Cranberry Capital of Ontario, Bala.

  From the beginning, Thomas Burgess endeavoured to ensure that food and shelter, the two essentials of life, were available in the settlement. He opened a general store, a bake shop, a blacksmith shop, and operated a supply boat. As a responsible and concerned citizen, Burgess devoted his time to local matters. He was instrumental in the settlement of a group of Mohawks, a First Nations band from Oka, Quebec, from 1868 into the 1870s. Chief Louis Sahanatien needed help to transport his people and their goods across the 19 kilometres (12 miles) of trackless forest to the shores of Black Lake in Gibson Township. For many years Burgess voluntarily acted as agent between the Natives and the Department of Indian Affairs. In 1892 he donated land for a church in the community of Bala.

  More settlers followed Burgess, and they worked hard to establish their settlement. Mr. and Mrs. Henry C. Guy opened a boarding house which later became the Bala Falls Hotel. Mrs. Guy was also responsible for establishing the first educational facility in Bala by teaching in her own home. The families of Ephraim B. Sutton, George Clements, Alfred Jackson, John Board, Thomas Currie, John May, Joseph Spencer, Richard Moore, William Carr, Henry Hurling, and the Hamills were also among Bala’s earliest pioneers.

  Bala, at one time, was known as Musquosh Falls. A post office was established here under the name of Muskoka in 1870, but the community was eventually named Bala. Thomas Burgess had, at one time, lived in the Bala Lake district of Wales and, having been impressed by the natural beauty there, he named his community correspondingly.

  Rose and Ephraim (fondly known as E.B.) Sutton emigrated from England in 1882 and, on the advice of Mr. A.P. Cockburn and Thomas Burgess, settled in the district and eventually built the Swastika Hotel (now called the Bala Bay Hotel).

  The Sutton family moved to the community of Bala in 1899 and opened a general store. In December 1901, E.B. Sutton established contracts for the first telephone line to connect with one operated by the Great North Western Telegraph Company from Bracebridge to Port Sandfield. Sutton also worked as a correspondent to Bracebridge, Gravenhurst, and Orillia weekly newspapers. He was adamant about environmental issues and especially protested against farmers who built barns on slopes that went down to the water, and warned tourists not to use the lakes for bathing.

  Fred Sutton, his son, shared some of his memories: “Many were the hardships of which my parents told me. Dad spent much of his time working for Mr. Burgess at Bala. Pioneering was hard on men but harder still on women left so much alone in the bush. Early reading had filled their minds with dread of wild animals and even wilder ‘savage’ Indians. I can just imagine my Mother’s perturbation when, while all alone, a Native called and asked to see the Boss. Mother, of course, said he would soon be in; the man seated himself just inside and said he would wait. Hours later, when Dad returned, it transpired the Indian wanted to borrow a gun. What a quandary! Not wishing to make a bad start by offending a Native, the gun was lent and the folks went to bed thinking they had seen the last of their gun. Morning came, and, lo and behold, the gun and a hindquarter of venison were hanging in the porch.”

  Bala Railway Station in August of 1916. A sultry summer eve sees a group in their whites relax while waiting for trip back to Hogtown. As better highways were built to service cottage country north of Toronto, weekend passenger service by both the CPR and CNR was phased out after the Second World War. This particular station was dismantled in the 1970s.

  Archives of Ontario

  In 1910 E.B. and Fred built the first three-storey brick hotel in Bala. They named their establishment the Swastika Hotel after the ancient swastika symbol — a symbol for well-being and benediction in the form of a Greek cross with each arm bent at a right angle. The Suttons had purchased the property from Thomas Burgess, who sold it to them on the condition that alcohol would never be sold on the property. They had agreed. Hotel guests were able to stroll the 23-acre site, go horseback riding on the trails located behind the building, go boating, and indulge in the fabulous meals and warm hospitality.

  It wasn’t long before the district of Bala supported a number of small farms with cattle and sheep. Bala also had the unique distinction of becoming incorporated as a town in 1914, without ever having had the status of a village. The first mayor was one of Thomas Burgess’s sons, Dr. A.M. Burgess.


  Fred Sutton once shared this about Bala: “Tourists and sportsmen had discovered the beauties of this area and created a demand for accommodation. Hotels and boarding houses sprang into being. Muskoka lamb supplied to the resort hotels became so famous for its special appeal to the palate that posh hotels and restaurants in New York City made a feature of Muskoka Lamb on their menus.”

  Tourists enjoy a horseback ride at the Swastika Hotel in Bala. This three-storey brick hotel was built in 1910 by E.B. Sutton and his son Fred. The hotel name changed during the Second World War. Today, we know it as the Bala Bay Hotel.

  Courtesy of Bob Sutton

  Fred also recalled an eccentric character who came to the Swastika Hotel: “In August, 1926, a guest arrived in a Ford Coupe and registered as Captain Venus. He was wearing a Mountie’s hat and claimed to be a member of the Force. He explained the absence of his tunic by saying it was at the cleaners. His personality was likable and conversation interesting. We seated him at my own table and we enjoyed his company.

  “During the day he policed the area, controlling traffic, ordering defective cars off the road, and so on. An elderly lady, with her nurse/ companion, happened to be staying at the hotel at the same time. The nurse, probably suffering from boredom and thinking we were having too much fun with the Mountie, persuaded me to move him to their table. He very gallantly squired the lady on canoe trips and walks and, incidentally, borrowed 10 dollars. Late the second day, I was surprised to see two uniformed Mounties at the desk asking for Captain Venus. They were sent to his room and they all went out together a few minutes later. I was on the point of retiring when Venus came in and asked for his bill. Next morning I found he had spent the night in the lock-up.

  “We discovered later that he was a mental patient from Whitby, Ontario. Shell-shocked in World War I, he had a fine war record, in fact, among some papers found in his room was a letter from a commanding officer recommending him for the Victoria Cross. His mental quirks caused him to run away from the institution and pose as a person of authority.

  “The Toronto Star of September 25th, 1926, reported at some length the story I have just told and another escapade of his at Port Hope, Ontario. There he apparently posed as an officer from the Department of Health; he closed dairies and generally caused havoc with the local Board of Health.

  “I rather suspect it was the nurse’s ten-spot that paid my bill.”

  Today it is said the Bala Bay Inn is haunted. It may be the ghost of Thomas Burgess, upset that alcohol is now served in his establishment — or it may be E.B., who promised to communicate from “the other side.”

  Bala, with numerous shops and parks along the river and bay side, is still a major tourist centre during the summer months. Among the shops there is a very special art gallery, right on the main street of Bala. The owner and operator is Carol News, a member of Wahta First Nations Mohawk community. High quality carvings, paintings, beading, basketry, and some other materials can be had in the gallery.

  Each year a major cranberry festival occurs the weekend after Thanksgiving. Local cranberry growers, the Johnsons, offer guided tours of their operation and sell a variety of cranberry products, including their very own cranberry wine. It is truly a learning experience, not to mention a lot of fun, to explore their cranberry marsh. Artisans also arrive that weekend to set up along the main streets and in the arena; here we are, now in the 21st century, and Dunn’s Pavillion is still humming and freshly painted.

  The Baldoon Mysteries

  Fact or fiction, what you are about to read supposedly took place more than 160 years ago and remains an incredible tale in the history of Ontario.

  Our story begins with John McDonald and his family, who experienced several spine-tingling events in a place called Baldoon. Nervous of future occurrences and the possibility that their lives were in danger, the McDonalds struggled against invisible dark forces. They were plagued by some malevolent energy that interrupted their lives and defied explanation. Nothing seemed to function as it should. Surely, they had been cursed.

  What was Baldoon really like? The community was located in southwestern Ontario on low, wet lands that were surveyed in 1802. It was Lord Alexander Selkirk who sought to attract Scottish Highlanders to the area. In return for this, Selkirk himself would be granted 150 acres for every colonist he procured. It would seem that the settlement of Baldoon was founded on less-than-benevolent principles. These early colonists had no way of knowing just how uninhabitable this land really was. By 1804 the first settlers’ eager anticipation had vanished into the mist.

  Despite difficult circumstances, many newcomers laboured to create a new life here. One determined soul was John McDonald. Around 1804 he and his wife built a sturdy frame house. For a short time John and his beloved lived in peace and soon heard the pit-a-pat of little feet. It was, however, a short-lived dream. A series of mysterious persecutions began. John and his family did not live in isolation — a very unusual family resided close by. Others in the area referred to this family as the people of the long, low, log house; they were a family that consisted of an old woman, her two sons, and one daughter. They were somewhat reclusive and unsociable people with few associations in their community.

  The land of John McDonald had been coveted by the people of the long, low, log house. They approached him on several occasions with offers of purchase, but John always refused. (Was this decision connected to all the mysteries he and his family encountered?)

  In those days the wives wove homespun cloth for clothing and straw into hats for protection from the blazing sun. These were shared activities among the settlers. One fine day while the men were occupied with farm duties, the young women gathered at the McDonald barn to pick and prepare straw for an afternoon of hat-making. The barn was built of logs and inside it were poles that stretched from side to side overhead, forming hangers for the flax.

  As the women sat chatting and working, they were startled by the sudden plunge of one of the flax poles overhead. Although the pole fell right in their midst, it struck no one. Then a second of these poles crashed, and a third! The ladies fled to the house. No sooner were they inside than there was the crash of glass and a lead bullet lay at their feet, then another, and finally a shower of bullets came and the young women fled the house. There were no explanations for this.

  For a few days all was peaceful on the McDonald farm. Then, one evening close to midnight, John was awakened by the sound of marching men, moving backwards and forwards with measured steps, then stillness, then more heavy tramping, but no one was to be seen. For three successive years many unexplainable manifestations afflicted the McDonald family.

  Bullets through the windows became almost a daily occurrence. John finally barricaded the windows with heavy boards. The bullets passed through the wood, without leaving a mark! By this time the whole countryside was aware, alert and alarmed.

  John McDonald was really beside himself. He and his family were anxious and tense from this relentless activity. They had been haunted by noises in the night, cups and saucers flying through the air, and their house was even reported to rise at one end or the other by as much as one metre (three feet).

  An officer in the British army, Captain Lewis Bennett, visited Baldoon specifically to meet with the McDonald family and examine the situation. During his visit Bennett’s own gun exploded for no apparent reason, and he witnessed the hauntings first-hand. One incident involved a baby in a cradle who suddenly began to scream as though in pain. She could not be consoled, but when picked up, a hot stone was discovered beneath the blankets. When the stone was removed another appeared. This was repeated several times. Little balls of fire were seen floating in mid-air and settling in various parts of the house. Every room in the house experienced this kind of fire.

  The hauntings began to intensify. McDonald was exhausted and desperate. The family was not safe. Then one day flames burst out in a dozen places simultaneously and, although the family escaped, all was burned and lost.
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  John and his family moved to the safety of his father’s house, and life seemed to return to normal. But it was not over. Once more the fearful tramping started, day and night; the furniture moved about, and a heavy kitchen cupboard fell to the floor with a thud. McDonald sought help this time from one Reverend McDorman. He was different, at least for a man of the cloth — he acknowledged the dark side. McDorman told McDonald that he knew a doctor’s daughter who had the gift of second sight and the mystical power to do stone readings. John implored the reverend to take him to her. They travelled together for several days to see her. John told the young girl of the many mysterious happenings.

  She listened intently and asked, “Did you ever have any trouble about a piece of land?”

  “Not exactly trouble,” replied John.

  “Did one of your neighbours desire to purchase a portion of your land and did you refuse?” asked the girl.

  McDonald nodded.

  The girl replied, “People in a long, low, log house?”

  McDonald said, “Yes.”

  Turning to her stone, the girl remained in a trance-like state for some time. Eventually, she asked, “Have you seen a stray black goose in your flock?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  She continued, “In that bird lives the destroyer of your peace. It has taken the shape of a bird and it is your enemy. You shall mould a bullet of sterling silver and fire it at the bird. If you wound it, your enemy shall be wounded in some corresponding part of their body. Go and be at peace.”