Hidden Ontario

by Terry Boyle

  The completion of the Northern Railway in 1853 altered the booming commerce of the village. People began to travel less by road and water, and the need for such a shipping point diminished. In the late 19th century the owner of the Toby Mill relocated his business to Collingwood, after a dispute with the village over taxes, and area businesses that were dependent on the mill suffered as a result. A number of disastrous fires swept through and demolished most of the remaining businesses, and by 1921 the village population had decreased significantly.

  The village of Holland Landing is located adjacent to the market-gardening area known as the Holland Flats. Originally, this area was settled by many Dutch immigrants who were familiar with land management. They were willing and able to turn a marsh into a productive and vital piece of land. The Dutch settlers had drained the land in their home country (with dykes and ditches) and used that same expertise here. The village of Ansnorveldt was established, along with productive gardens near Holland Landing.

  A major catastrophe struck the Holland Flats in October 1954, when Hurricane Hazel swept southern Ontario. The Holland Flats literally disappeared under six to nine metres (20 to 30 feet) of water. The village of Ansnorveldt was submerged, homes were swept away or overturned and the losses totalled in the millions. After the water had retreated, the residents attempted to remove the remaining water with large pumping systems. The situation was overwhelming; the damage seemed irreparable. Nevertheless, with the aid of county, provincial, and federal funds, work was started to restore the land, and within the year, Holland Flats was once again fully productive.

  The agricultural production of Holland Flats is crucial for the province of Ontario. As urban, commercial, and industrial development in the southern parts of the province swallow the remaining market garden areas, this is both obvious and significant. Perhaps Samuel Lount was a model area resident. He was willing to fight for the things he believed in. This is the kind of resolve needed to protect this agricultural mecca for the future.

  Ivanhoe

  Ivanhoe, like many of Central Ontario’s smaller communities, has taken immense pride in preserving its distinctive quality of life for more than 150 years. This tiny hamlet has kept a firm hold on the basics of life, a hold which some larger towns and cities have relinquished. The Ivanhoe Cheese Company is the major centre of employment here and has some responsibility for the community functioning much like a family.

  The first record of land settlement at Ivanhoe, situated on Highway 62 between Madoc and Belleville, was in 1803. These early settlers of Ivanhoe and the township were of Irish, Scottish, and English descent, with names such as Ketcheson, Ostrom, Denike, Luke, Foster, and Ashley. Later families arrived with the names of Ray, Ryrett, McKee, Shaw, Rollins, Emo, Stout, Gunning, Ranson, Carscallen, MacMillan, and Gauen from Ireland; Harvey, Wood, Fleming, Roy, McMullen, and Archibald from Scotland; Tummon, Chapman, King, Lidster, and Prest from England; and United Empire Loyalists such as Reid and Mitz.

  To get to Madoc in the early years of settlement, Ivanhoe dwellers used a raft to cross Moira Lake, then known as Hog Lake (Hog Lake got its name from a rock that resembled a hog’s back). Sometime later Bronson’s Bridge was built.

  The first post office in Ivanhoe was established on July 1, 1850, and was named St. George. This name was changed to the Ivanhoe Post Office on April 1, 1857, at the suggestion of an Irish schoolteacher by the name of Thomas Emo. He had been reading Sir Walter Scott’s novel of the same name. Since the fictional hero characterized the Irish spirit, he promptly named the post office after the rugged-but-compassionate medieval warrior.

  Even in the early days, Ivanhoe’s main and thriving business was cheese. In 1870 a two-storey building was constructed on the property of George Rollins, on the 7th Concession of Huntingdon Township, for the purpose of making cheese. The structure consisted of a cooking room on the first floor and a curing room on the second. The milk came in at the curing-room level, where it was conducted by a pipe to vats on the lower floor. Because the curing room was upstairs, it was necessary for large and heavy loads of cheese to be carried downstairs. The factory was called the Ivanhoe Cheese Factory, and its first president was Henry Gauen. He established himself in Ivanhoe on a land grant, which he received for his service in one of the expedition parties that searched in the Arctic for Sir John Franklin.

  In the early days of the cheese company, workers collected milk cans from local farms twice a day. The company furnished the milk wagons as well as the cans. When the wagons became worn, the company did not replace them. Each dairy farmer who drew milk was, from then on, held responsible for supplying his own wagon and his own cans.

  On December 28, 1889, seven men appeared in the law office of A.F. Wood in Madoc, to request the incorporation of The Beulah Cheese and Butter Co-operative. This was done on the advice of cheese buyers in Belleville who felt that the name Ivanhoe should be dropped because it had a reputation for inferior quality products. It was also decided that the quality should improve. British importers were refusing any further cheese associated with the name “Ivanhoe.”

  In the same period of time, a second factory was under construction on the property of James Gunning, at the bottom of the hill on the 7th Concession. Beulah Cheese was thought to be better quality and, consequently, could be priced higher. John Fleming was one of many who worked for both companies. He served as the factory salesman from 1895 until his sudden death in 1913.

  In 1926 yet another new Beulah factory was erected on a site at the four corners. Upon its completion the old factory was torn down and the lumber was used to build the cheesemaker’s home. Business flourished and additions were made to the curing room. In 1965 a dairy bar was opened that was so popular it was enlarged twice.

  The Beulah factory continued to produce Ivanhoe’s fine cheese until February 1, 1978, when the building was destroyed by fire. Immediate arrangements and plans for a new factory were begun. In April 1979 the new Beulah Co-op Cheese Company was officially opened by the Honourable William Newman, minister of agriculture and food for Ontario. In the early part of 1983, the factory once again took on the original name: The Ivanhoe Cheese Company Ltd.

  Today the Ivanhoe Cheese Company is a thriving business and remains an important partner in the community. It is a living historical link to Ivanhoe’s past. Its cheddar and specialty cheeses can be found in grocery stores province-wide and are also favoured by American tourists. Their extra-old white cheddar is superb, and their unique horseradish cheddar is relished for its bite.

  Not only did Ivanhoe and its cheese company produce quality cheese, it also had some unique citizens. Henry Gauen, the first president of the Ivanhoe Cheese Company and an Arctic explorer, was one of them.

  In 1845 Sir John Franklin attempted to find the Northwest Passage in order to chart a navigable route to the riches of China and East India. For 300 years prior to Franklin’s expedition, explorers had searched in vain for this route. Exploration caught the fancy of dreamers. Franklin was well aware of the mysteries of the north, the maze of land and sea, the crushing power of ice, the cold, the darkness, and the loneliness. Scattered clusters of bones attest to the frosty plight of many a good sailor.

  Franklin, with his two ships, the Erebus and the Terror, set sail from the Thames on the morning of May 19, 1845, carrying 134 officers and men. The last sighting of Franklin and his ships was in July of the same year when, in Baffin Bay, they met two whaling ships. Franklin’s ships were waiting for the right conditions in order to cross Baffin Bay to Lancaster Sound. There was no concern about Franklin’s whereabouts until 1847, when there had still been no communication. The British Admiralty in London sent out three expeditions that year to relieve Franklin. Captain Henry Kellett was directed to sail to the Bering Strait, while a second expedition under the command of James Clark Ross was ordered to sail to Lancaster Sound. The third expedition, led by Dr. John Rae and Sir John Richardson, went down the Mackenzie River. The failure of all three expedition
s to find any trace of Franklin sparked some urgency concerning the crews of both ships. On April 4, 1850, the Toronto Globe ran an advertisement announcing “A 20,000 pound reward to be given by Her Majesty’s Government to any party or parties, of any country, who shall render efficient assistance to the crews of the discovery ships under the command of Sir John Franklin.”

  Henry Gauen was part of the voyage in search of Franklin that headed out from Plymouth, England, on January 20, 1850, with two ships named the Enterprise and the Investigator. Gauen served as the ship’s carpenter and was under the command of Captain McClure.

  McClure’s ship, the Investigator, was separated from its consort and arrived at the Bering Strait on July 29, 1850. By September 9th he was 96 kilometres (60 miles) from the western stretch of Viscount Melville Sound. On September 26 the Investigator was sealed in, surrounded by thick sheets of ice.

  On October 10th of that year, McClure turned his attention to other matters — not to finding Franklin, but rather to discovering the Northwest Passage. His lookout had spotted open water in the distance, and he wondered if it was a continuation of Barrow Strait. McClure led a sled party across the ice to the land on the east side of the channel. He and the small party climbed up a 500-metre (1,500 feet) rise and from that vantage point saw the ice-packed channel. Dr. Armstrong, medical attendant to the crew, was convinced that the highway to England from ocean to ocean lay before them, but McClure needed to set foot on shore of the passage himself.

  Eleven days later McClure and a party set out again on an exhausting five-day journey along the eastern shore of Banks Island to the end of the channel. On October 26, 1850, Robert McClure, standing on a 200-metre (600 foot) promontory, confirmed the presence of a water route from Atlantic to Pacific. The Northwest Passage had been discovered. McClure and crew were eligible for the prize of 10,000 pounds that had been promised by the English government for the discovery.

  Regardless of his success, McClure remained to search for Franklin. By September 9, 1852, the crew were down to one meal a day. In October, a delegation pleaded with the captain for an increase in food, but McClure refused. It was reported that Sub-Lieutenant Robert Wynniatt went mad. Each man weighed about 15 kilograms (35 pounds) less than when they had left England, and 20 were ill with scurvy.

  A few years ago, the people of Ivanhoe cleared the grave site of Henry Gauen, erected a fence, and placed a tombstone there in his honour.

  Author’s collection

  During one outing Henry Gauen was attacked by a polar bear. Henry kept the bear at bay until he managed to shoot it with his gun, but carried scars from the bear’s claws on his back for the rest of his life. Notwithstanding a polar bear attack, Henry actually put on his skates and was, quite possibly, the first man to ever skate on Artic ice.

  The winter of 1852–53 dragged on, and the health of the crew declined further; two crew members went insane and howled all night. By the end of January, a clerk, Joseph Paine, and one of the mates, John Boyle, had died of scurvy. A day later Lieutenant Pim of the Resolute found the Investigator. On April 15th the remaining crew of the Investigator set off by sled for two vessels moored off Melville Island. It was a ghastly journey — half the men were lame from scurvy, unable to stand, shrunken, hollow-eyed, and slightly crazed.

  By the September 25, 1854, Gauen and what others remained of the Investigator’s crew had arrived home in England. They were presented with 10,000 pounds, 80 pounds of which was Gauen’s share. He was also presented with a silver medal embossed with a sailing ship, specially cast for Arctic explorers. He subsequently married an English woman and came to live in the hamlet of Ivanhoe.

  As for Franklin, it was later discovered that he and his two crews had indeed perished over a period of time. Several factors contributed to this loss of life, one being the harsh environment. Another factor leading to the death of some crew members was discovered to be lead poisoning. It has been calculated that each crew member would have been allotted about .25 kilograms (.5 pounds) of tinned food every second day — a regular ingestion of lead from the lead-tin solder used to seal the tins. Furthermore, it was later found that the side seams on some of the tins were incomplete and the food had spoiled, a recipe for botulism. Exact details will remain a secret, lost to history.

  Mr. Henry Gauen died in July 1889 at the age of 77. He was buried just north of Ivanhoe, on the west side of the road, on the land that he had settled. Over the years his gravesite became overgrown and lost from view. However, the people of Ivanhoe have since cleared the grave site, erected a fence, and placed a tombstone in his honour, just one example of their pride in the community.

  The citizens of Ivanhoe have chosen to remember and be grateful to the man who helped establish a cheese company for the community, and I am grateful to them. Henry Gauen was my great-great grandfather.

  Kapuskasing

  The majority of folks say Ka’puskasing

  But if we had a chat

  They’d say Kapuss’kasing’

  And say it, just like that

  And if they went to live and sing

  They’d soon be saying Kap!

  So I guess it doesn’t matter much

  But I like Kapuss’kasing’

  This Native place by the river’s bend

  Needs a different ring!

  — Allanah Douglas

  The region that we know as Kapuskasing today was primarily used by fur traders. The Hudson’s Bay Company and the Old Northwest Traders both set up operations in the area. In the early 1900s, the National Transcontinental Railway (now CN) pushed through this wilderness and a station was built where the railway crossed the river. It was first known as McPherson and was in 1917 changed to Kapuskasing, a Cree word meaning “the place where the river bends.”

  Back in 1914, the Canadian government decided to purchase 1,280 acres of land west of the Kapuskasing River and south of the Transcontinental Railway tracks. Their objective was to establish an experimental farm. They chose this area because it was part of the fertile Great Clay Belt region of Northern Ontario. Scientists believed they could develop hardier varieties of crops that would be able to withstand the harsh climate of the north.

  Kapuskasing circa 1914. First built as a prisoner of war camp and subsequently used to house potential war veterans in an attempt to settle the area.

  Archives of Ontario

  The station was, however, converted that same year into an internment camp for illegal immigrants and prisoners of war. These internees built a barracks, hospital, canteen, YMCA, post office, bakery, and a supply depot. They also managed to clear 100 acres of land that first year. By the end of 1915, the camp had 1,200 internees and 250 soldiers to supervise and operate the complex. Incredible as it may sound, these internees had cleared another 500 acres of land by the end of that year. By 1917 most of the internees had been paroled due to labour shortages, and 400 prisoners of war replaced them. The camp remained open until 1920, when the last prisoner of war was repatriated. Thirty-two German prisoners died while at the camp and were buried across from the present-day public cemetery.

  The Canadian government then embarked on a new land settlement scheme for returned soldiers. Government officials managed to route 101 settlers to Kapuskasing. Each soldier was assigned a 100-acre lot. A training school for these new pioneers was built at Monteith and dormitories were built to provide housing until the settlers could erect their own homes. The government also provided farm implements, stock, and seed at very low cost to the settlers.

  Determined to make this work, the government built a sawmill, a planing mill, a blacksmith shop, a steam laundry, a store, and a school on the east bank of the Kapuskasing River. The settlers were subsequently organized into groups, and each party was supervised by a government foreman. The goal was to clear the land for farming.

  It wasn’t long before these settlers had had enough. They felt like little more than work gangs, there to satisfy some government idea of settling the north. Just
back from fighting a war, this scheme seemed as much like a POW camp as it did a place to get a fresh start. It was all about control. The men were unhappy with the arrangements and the majority of them abandoned the entire project. Out of 101 settlers, nine remained. They were Mair, McCall, Yorke, Wing, MacMinn, Grant, Le Marrier, Gough, and Poolton.

  Things began to look up for Kapuskasing in 1922, when the Spruce Falls Power and Paper Company built a pulp and paper mill. Several years later a newsprint mill was constructed to produce paper for the New York Times. Both mills received their power from a new hydro development 80 kilometres (50 miles) to the north.

  It was the mill workers and the original settlers of 1920 that really put Kapuskasing on the map. They planned their business section as a circle, with five streets radiating outward. Still influenced heavily by their government-sponsored origins, they named the streets after the premier of Ontario (E.C. Drury) and his members of cabinet.

  Kapuskasing was incorporated in 1921, with the motto Oppidum ex Silvis meaning “Town out of the Forest.”

  A new paper mill with a daily capacity of 64 tonnes of cellulose started production in 1945 at the Spruce Falls company site.

  Yes, this town beside the river’s bend that sprung from forests cleared Was carved out, in the northland by folks that had no fear.

  They did not fear the cold or snow, or the government’s heavy hand nor the work they had to do there, to claim this rugged land.

  And so their lives keep going, even as I bring, this story of the people, of sweet, Kapuss’kasing.

  — Allanah Douglas

  Keene

  Have you ever travelled somewhere and suddenly felt you were in the presence of something sacred, something special, and had some sense of having been there before?

  This indeed was my experience when, about 20 years ago, I ventured to the community of Keene. Somehow I found myself in a place that challenged my memory. Why was it so familiar? What was I sensing? This is my story. I ventured out that day to visit Keene and the sacred burial mounds, and to learn the history.