THE BICE PAPERS – Cemeteries

Hwy 7 and 62
O’Hara plot

CEMETERIES by RALPH BICE 1974

At a recent meeting of the Board of Education a group of students who spent part of last summer delving into the early history of East Parry Sound District, gave, with pictures and commentary, some of the things of interest they had discovered. Some of their pictures were even before the years I worked in the lumber woods. After, I got to thinking about some of the graves and burial places I have seen in many sections of the woods all over the province.

Our own local cemeteries always are of interest. I have heard several people who once lived in this area remark that they felt more at home walking around amid the headstones, as there were so many of their friends there.

I think the first graves I saw that is outside the regular places, were on the Petawawa River in Algonquin Park. Believe the first log drives went down that river about 1890. There are many chutes and dams, and with the rush of water in the spring they were quite dangerous. At nearly every such place there were one or two graves. It was not possible to get the bodies out, as there were no roads or railroads, so the poor victims were just buried where they were found. Believe the most graves were at Lake Trevair, as there was a bad stretch of water just above it.

Many years later I was at Radiant, miles further down the river, and happened to see a small graveyard in amongst the trees. There was a plaque explaining the graves. Appears some kind hearted man, who had a son killed in World War One, had been trying to get as many of these unfortunate young men re-interred in this little cemetery in memory of his son. Such a beautiful spot for a last resting place.

One winter I was buying fur for a company in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, and the last trip in the spring was up the Montreal River, then over to the Batchawana, up that one to the headwaters, then over to the Wapiti, and back down to the Montreal, and on down to the A.C.R. Perhaps ten days. Lots of new country, many beautiful falls, and lots of fish, that is if you call pike and pickerel fish. Too, we met a lot of Indian trappers, and had a good load of fur. This was in 1922, and only a few years after the terrible flu epidemic that took so many lives.

On the way back down the river I noticed many graves. The young Cree travelling with me explained that all the deaths had happened during that time. Most of the graves were well tended. Once we went ashore and took pictures, as there was a good sized headstone there. The only inscription was simply “Maggie”, and the date of her death. Her age was given as eighteen. But if this headstone, which must have weighed close to three hundred pounds, came in by canoe, it would mean two or three days of upstream paddling, plus some hard portages. By dog team it was two days to the nearest lumber camp. But it was there, and a string of prayer beads.

Another was a small grave, well kept, with a picket fence of peeled spruce poles. There was not a headstone, but a well made cross, no doubt made with an axe, and the one word piece. But there was a small doll fastened to the upright. Since we were the first along that spring it must have been there all winter. A tiny doll, and I often wondered what a contrast a dark, black haired little girl would make, playing with a curly haired blond doll.

But the burial grounds I used to think about a lot was one I was told about the first time I went to the woods to work, which was just at the beginning of World War One. The small gang I was working with was cleaning brush and other debris well back from the railroad in Algonquin Park. This was a measure they hoped would help prevent so many fires being started by the steam engines. At one spot where there had been a camp when the R.R. was being built, a grave was found. This started a discussion about odd graveyards, and an old man, at least we thought then that anyone over fifty was old, told us a tale his grandfather had told him about early life in Eastern Ontario.

For want of a name we will just call the place Rat Creek. The area had been settled by a group who of course had to clear the land and build their own houses. This was being done all over the province when new settlers came in. Too, as was the custom, as soon as they could they built a church. I do not remember the religion of these people, but that does not matter. But they did pick out a nice spot, and as was customary had an area close by set aside for the cemetery. They were God fearing, hard working people who did not have time to get sick. Children born there were healthy, and a little graveyard was there with no takers. No one was worried. They were too busy clearing land and raising their families. But some of the more religious members thought that their church would not be complete until the burial grounds had been consecrated. But they needed a grave. Once they thought this would happen, as one of the older men took sick. No one thought he would recover but some of the men waiting got into an argument as to the best flies to use on trout early in the spring, and to their surprise the sick man came to, joined in the argument, and lived for several years after that.

As I said, the more devote members still wanted to see the place where they expected to be buried all properly prepared before it came their time. Then it was announced that a dignitary of the church was to make a visit, and it was thought that this would be the proper time to do everything up properly. So after much discussion names were put in a hat and one was drawn.

  This, as I said, was many, many years ago, and the incident may have been forgotten. That place is still going strong, but I would think Rat Creek, as I have called it, is perhaps the only place in Ontario where they had to hit a man over the head with a club to start a graveyard.

Photo – by B.M.

 

 

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