PIONEER DAYS – STORIES AND LEGENDS OF CROWLAND

By Robert J. Foley

[Regional Shopping News, 9 May 1990]

When the early settlers came to Crowland, they were even more isolated than their contemporaries who took up land in the northern part of the peninsula. Things that one would consider basic necessities were scarce or non-existent to our pioneer forebearers.

The pioneer settling on his farm in Crowland before 1784, when the crown officially purchased land that included what was to become Crowland Township, was technically trespassing on Indian land. Fortunately the Indians were friendly and didn’t seem to mind the intrusion. Until the allotment of tools came through from the government the farmer was often without nails, hammer, saw, etc. The pioneer woman often had to cook without the benefits of sugar and salt among other things. Even flour was often in short supply. When grain was harvested in those first years, no mill was within reach to have it ground. The common practice of the day was to burn a hollow in a stump or the end of a good-sized block of hardwood tree which was rounded off at the end. The grain was pounded in a make-shift mortar until it was a very coarse flour or meal and suitable for cooking. Even after mills were introduced some pioneers continues to make small amounts of flour this way.

Most of us are familiar with White Pigeon but how did it get its name? Crowland had some heavy stands of pine when the first settlers arrived and in 1792 logging became a serious business in the Township. Loggers would work all winter and pile the timber along Lyon’s Creek to be floated down to Chippawa in the spring. To serve these lumberjacks a blacksmith shop and an Inn were built there. The story goes that the innkeeper had a daughter who usually dressed in white. The loggers began calling her the white pigeon and soon the inn became known as the White Pigeon Inn and the name struck throughout the years.

There is a legion connected with White Pigeon that may stir the imagination of some. During the War of 1812 the Americans had the free run of the peninsula for much of the time. Anything and everything was considered the spoils of war and subsequently the pioneers would often bury their valuables to save them from the enemy. Early one evening a man carrying a small, heavy chest took lodgings at the White Pigeon. He claimed to be a sea captain and through the entire evening he never let the little chest out of his sight. During the night he was observed entering the woods and after a considerable length of time re-emerged without his precious chest. The next morning he departed telling the innkeeper that he would return after the war. He was never seen again.

A subsequent owner, who purchased the property in the 1930s, was told by a fortune teller that a small chest was buried on his property containing gold coins. He laughed until he heard about the legend of the captain and his chest.

After two years of digging, sometimes with heavy equipment, he gave up the search for the elusive little chest. The mounds and depressions can still be seen to this day. The captain’s chest was just a fairy tale. Or was it?

One of the great success stories of the late 19^th and early 20^th century in Crowland was the Netherby Fair. The Welland County Agricultural Society had been formed in 1853 to promote farming in the country and to run the Welland County Fair. In 1880 one Wallace Tuft, who was a livestock breeder, organized the Netherby Union Agricultural Society. It took in much of the county and the reason for its founding is lost in history.

The Netherby Fair was the best in the peninsula and outshone the Welland County Fair and forced the Cook’s mills Fair to close.

One of the major attractions was the Crowland Band, which would delight the fair goers with stirring marches and reels. They were well regarded in the neighborhood and played regularly at Buchner’s Park and Asher’s Grove.

The main attraction at the Netherby Fair was always the harness races. Some of the participants in these sporting events were William Lynch, A.D. White, Albert Morris and Ryerson McKenny. Albert Morris went so far as to build a race track at his farm so that he and his friend Ryerson McKenny could train their horses. One of the most unusual occurrences at the races also produced the greatest upset in the history of the fair. Alex Hurst drove his horse, Rock, to one of the last Netherby Fairs. Some of his friends from around White Pigeon knew Rock for his speed and stamina. These friends persuaded Alex to let the horse be unhitched from the buggy and hitched to a gig and entered in the race. The seasoned racing veterans laughed at the idea of a buggy horse even entering such a race but entered he was. Alex’s cousin, Tom Dell, was chosen to drive Rock in his first race. Right from the start it was obvious that Rock was going to make a race of it. Rock nosed out the favourite at the wire much to the chagrin of the “Pros.” That race was talked about for years afterwards. *Alex Hurst was my great grandfather.

Many vendors and attractions were also seen at the fair. Joshua Beam, always impeccably dressed, was ready to sing and play the famous Doherty organ that he sold. Philip Koabel sold little sausages rolled in a slice of bread for 5 cents and George “Beans” Pattison hawked his chestnuts and peanuts. Silas Forsythe, a furniture maker from Black Creek offered his wares as well. On the last day of the fair, they closed the hall for the big square dance that capped the festivities. For years Pat McCourt called the dances.

The Netherby Fair was held on leased land and when the lease was up the owners returned it to agricultural use. The last fair was held on the ninth and tenth of October 1906.