Results for ‘Robert J. Foley’
By Robert J. Foley
[Regional Shopping News, 18 April 1990]
He had to be the youngest tug boat captain on the Great Lakes. Eight years old, and here he was easing the steam tug “Yvonne Dupre Jr.” alongside the towering line. He had to get a tow line on her before she went hard aground in this raging gale. He yelled orders confidently to his crew who answered with a smart, “aye aye sir,” as they rushed to do his bidding. The stout little tug pulled her clear in the nick of time to the cheers of the big liner’s crew. The shout of “Come, on, Sean, we’re going for a drink,” broke the spell and our captain rushed off to join his family once again.
Was Sean having a dream? Yes and no! He was the captain of the “Yvonne Dupre Jr.” and he was standing in her wheelhouse giving his commands, however, the wheel house is located on the grounds of the Port Colborne Historical and Marine Museum, at the corner of King and Princess Streets in Port Colborne.
The “Yvonne Dupre Jr.” was built at Sorel, Quebec in 1946 by Marine Industries. When her working days were over, the museum was able to salvage her wheelhouse to enthral the imagination of kids of all ages.
The museum founded in 1974, has developed into a small heritage village with six buildings and the tug wheelhouse on the property.
The museum traces the history of Port Colborne from the first schoolhouse built in 1818 through the canal construction of the early 20th century.
The main museum building is a Georgian revival style home built in 1869 by John Williams. The house was bequeathed to the city by Arabella Williams, the daughter of John and Judith Williams in 1950 and was taken over by the museum at its founding. This building contains items of local historical interest including models of lake steams as well as native artifacts, Erie and Foster Glass Works and many exhibits tied to the Welland Canal.
The anchor near the wheelhouse was salvaged from the wreck of the “Raleigh” in 1975. The “Raleigh” was built in 1876 and sank off Port Colborne in a storm in 1911.
The carriage house, a part of the original estate, is of board and batten construction with hand hewn beams. It is used as a learning and activity centre for school programs.
The log school house, the first in Humberstone Township, was built in 1818 by Pennsylvania Dutch settlers. It was torn down and rebuilt on the museum grounds in 1976.
The log house, the first home of John and Sally Sherk, was moved to the museum property from Humberstone and is furnished to show the lifestyle of the Pennsylvania Dutch Mennonites of the 1850’s.
The blacksmith shop was relocated from the Port Colborne Quarries property in Humberstone Township and reconstructed here in 1984. It represents the blacksmith operation of F.W. Woods & Sons which served the canal trade in the 1880’s.
Finally, after touring the many exhibits, one can retire to Arabella’s Tea Room, a 1915 cottage that had been part of the Williams estate. From June through September tea and hot homemade biscuits are served. *Note: I had the opportunity to have tea at Arabella’s and it was delicious. B.
May 1st is the official opening of the museum for another season. This year the museum has added new exhibits, including “Patters of the Past,” a history of the Graf family of weavers and their products. “Canadian Handweaving Samples” is a traveling exhibit from the Royal Ontario Museum which allows you to examine and touch the exhibits.
The Niagara Peninsula has more history per square metre than anywhere in Canada. It has participated in the growth of this country from the days of the fur trade, through the struggle to retain the right to be Canadians, to the building of the great canal which insured its prosperity.
There are museums in almost every community across the Peninsula. Find out where they are and visit them. In this time of controversy and turmoil it is important that we get in touch with the roots of our country and gain an appreciation for the sacrifices that our forbearers made in making Canada what it is today.
The Port Colborne Historical and Marine Museum is located at 280 King Street. 1990-Admsiion is free, and the museum, which is wheelchair accessible, is open form 12 noon to 5 p.m. daily.
Bring the family. The “Yvonne Dupre Jr.” is always looking for a good captain.
By Robert J. Foley
[Date Unknown]
Visitors to Niagara Falls, who happen, by chance or design, to drive out Lundy’s Lane along Highway 20 and cross the canal bridge at Allanburg are in for a treat. Astride the hills which dominate the landscape is the village of Fonthill, sitting like a crown on the brow of the Peninsula. Fonthill forms the hub of what is now the town of Pelham.
The first settlers in the area were refugees from the American Colonies who began arriving as the revolutionary war was in full swing. Major David Secord, brother-in-law of the famous Laura Secord, settled on three hundred acres in the area around 1781. By 1783 there were 46 families in the township which was named Pelham by the Lieutenant-Governor, John Graves Simcoe. David Secord became the Justice of the Peace and a small community began to grow where Fonthill now stands.
Among the early arrivals was one George Hansler who settle down with his wife and daughter in 1782. He became a benefactor to the community when he donated the land for a school in 1821, which was appropriately named Hansler school. Nichols Oille settled in 1783 and built the first brick house in the township with clay from his own land.
The War of 1812, which devastated much of the Peninsula bypassed Pelham as far as material destruction went, however many of her sons served in the militia and so action in many of the battles fought in the peninsula. Despite this fact, Pelham almost became a military base. The Duke of Wellington visited the peninsula in 1825 and upon seeing the dominant position that the town held from the ridge, which now boasts the Lookout Point Golf Course, he proposed to build a fort there. It even got to the design stage before the plan was abandoned.
Pelham did not remain immune from the fortunes of war however. During the rebellion of 1837, a number of locals sided with William Lyon MacKenzie and in that year 38 men and two women were rounded up and charged with treason. The group was sentenced to death by hanging but the sentences were commuted to being transported to a penal colony in Tasmania for life. One Samuel Chandler, however, managed to escape and returned home in 1841, he packed up his family and moved south never to be heard of again.
In 1871 Pelham boasted a population of 776 with three grist mills, six saw mills and all the other amenities that made up a prosperous community in the early part of the 19th century. Many of the peninsula’s settlements underwent many name changes before they received the ones we know today and this one was no exception. It was first known as Riceville after one of its early justices of the peace. It was called Osbournes’s Corners, for Osbournes’s Inn for a short time after 1842 but then was again changed, this time to Temperanceville, probably to the chagrin of Mr. Osbourne the inn keeper. In 1850 it finally received a proper name and became Fonthill after Fonthill Abbey in England.
The mid-19th century were momentous times for Pelham. In 1851 Fonthill, because it held the local registry office was in the running for the new Welland County seat along with Port Robinson, Cook’s Mills and Merrittsville. The competition was hot and heavy and in 1854 Merrittsville (Welland) won out. Looking at the region today we might think Welland was the obvious choice, however in 1850 the population of Welland was 750, while Pelham could muster a count of 2,253 souls.
Today Pelham, containing some of the most beautiful landscape in the peninsula, consists of the villages of Ridgeville, North Pelham, Effingham, Fenwick and the surrounding agricultural lands.
It is, indeed, the jewel in the crown.
A business trip to Toronto and back could take as long as five days
By Robert J. Foley
[Welland Tribune, 7 April 1992]
Getting from one place to another in the Niagara Peninsula is fairly simple for us today. A 30-minute ride from Welland puts us just about anywhere we would wish to go. We can leave home at 9 a.m., drive to Queenston, transact our business and be home for lunch. Even business in Toronto can be wrapped up and we can be home for dinner.
Travel in the 1820s was not as easy. Road conditions were subject to the whims of Mother Nature. Two days of driving rain turned hard-packed roads into quagmires of impassible mud. A trip to York (Toronto) was a major undertaking.
The sun had not yet made its appearance when young Abraham Stoner said good-bye to his father, Christian. Abraham was going to York on family business and he was meeting a friend at Cook’s Mills who was going to Chippawa with his boat for supplies. The first leg of his journey was to catch the four o’clock stage to Queenston. The stage ran on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Fortunately, the weather was good and the Portage Road would be reasonably good for travelling.
Abraham had never been to Chippawa and after the isolation of the farm he was awed by the hustle and bustle at this southern terminus of the Portage Road. Schooners and barge-like, flat-bottomed boats were transferring goods to and from wagons that seemed to be strewn haphazardly along the docks or lined up along the road.
He searched out the stage office and purchased his ticket on the Chippawa-Newark coach. The clerk informed him that he was the fourth passenger so the coach would leave as scheduled. If four passengers did not buy tickets by four o’clock the stage was held over until seven the next morning.
The coach rolled out of Chippawa on time and even though the stage seemed to find every pot hole, rattling Abraham’s teeth, he felt growing sense of excitement. They passed rumbling wagons and carried goods around the Falls of Niagara for shipment on to York, Kingston and Montreal. An occasional caliche, a two-wheeled gig that seated two people, would flash by at incredible speeds, or so it seemed to Abraham.
The stage arrived after dark and he found himself a room at the inn and attempted to get some sleep.
The next morning, the sight that greeted his eyes left him speechless. If Abraham was in awe of Chppawa he was flabbergasted by Queenston. He counted 60 wagons lined up at the docks to unload merchandise onto the ships moored there.
Having found the “Annie Jane”, the vessel that was to take him to York, and ascertaining her sailing time, he headed off to get some breakfast. The crossing would take eight or nine hours depending on the wind and he wasn’t sure if he could eat aboard. Friends teased him about sea sickness and he hoped that it was only teasing.
The crossing was fairly smooth and Abraham found that as long as he stayed on deck his stomach remained relatively calm.
After docking he went off to find accommodations for a least two nights and prepared to go to the government buildings the next day to settle his family’s business.
Abraham Stoner finished his business and spent one more night in York’s boarding schooner for the return trip. By the time he reached home he has been gone for five days. There is a good chance that he walked most of the way from Chippawa to Humberstone unless he was lucky enough to hitch a ride with a farmer on the Chippawa Creek Road.
Freight moved through the peninsula to and from the Northwest. Many fur traders moved along the Portage Road between Queenston and Chippawa patronizing the taverns that dotted the landscape. The trip from Queentson was slow and tedious. Although two oxen could easily pull a ton of cargo from the top of the escarpment to Chippawa, it took four or five to pull the load up from the Queenston docks to level ground. The wagons used on the road were supplied by local farmers who supplemented their income by hauling freight.
Growth along the Portage Road in Stamford Township became inevitable. The intersection of Lundy’s lane and Portage Road saw a fledgling community emerge right after the war that eventually became Drummondville. Stamford Village was laid out near the Stamford Green and St. John’s Church.
Freight destined for points in the interior was moved most often by water. The Chippawa was a busy waterway that was navigable up past *Browns Bridge. Lyon’s Creek was also of major importance. The creeks along the Niagara such as *Street’s, Frenchmen’s and Black all had small ribbons of settlement along their banks and were used extensively to move the goods of the farmers to their homesteads.
William Hamilton Merritt was beginning to flex his muscles again about this time and the Welland Canal was to change the transportation system in the peninsula and in Canada forever.
*Brown’s Bridge was s small settlement built around the bridge that once crossed the Chippawa at the foot of Pelham Road in Welland.
*Street’s creek is now known as Usshers creek. Its name was changed to honor Edgeworth Ussher, a militia officer, murdered during the rebellion of 1837-38.
A business trip to Toronto and back could take as long as five days
By Robert J. Foley
[Welland Tribune, 7 April 1992]
Getting from one place to another in the Niagara Peninsula is fairly simple for us today. A 30-minute ride from Welland puts us just about anywhere we would wish to go. We can leave home at 9 a.m., drive to Queenston, transact our business and be home for lunch. Even business in Toronto can be wrapped up and we can be home for dinner.
Travel in the 1820s was not as easy. Road conditions were subject to the whims of Mother Nature. Two days of driving rain turned hard-packed roads into quagmires of impassible mud. A trip to York (Toronto) was a major undertaking.
The sun had not yet made its appearance when young Abraham Stoner said good-bye to his father, Christian. Abraham was going to York on family business and he was meeting a friend at Cook’s Mills who was going to Chippawa with his boat for supplies. The first leg of his journey was to catch the four o’clock stage to Queenston. The stage ran on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Fortunately, the weather was good and the Portage Road would be reasonably good for travelling.
Abraham had never been to Chippawa and after the isolation of the farm he was awed by the hustle and bustle at this southern terminus of the Portage Road. Schooners and barge-like, flat-bottomed boats were transferring goods to and from wagons that seemed to be strewn haphazardly along the docks or lined up along the road.
He searched out the stage office and purchased his ticket on the Chippawa-Newark coach. The clerk informed him that he was the fourth passenger so the coach would leave as scheduled. If four passengers did not buy tickets by four o’clock the stage was held over until seven the next morning.
The coach rolled out of Chippawa on time and even though the stage seemed to find every pot hole, rattling Abraham’s teeth, he felt growing sense of excitement. They passed rumbling wagons and carried goods around the Falls of Niagara for shipment on to York, Kingston and Montreal. An occasional caliche, a two-wheeled gig that seated two people, would flash by at incredible speeds, or so it seemed to Abraham.
The stage arrived after dark and he found himself a room at the inn and attempted to get some sleep.
The next morning, the sight that greeted his eyes left him speechless. If Abraham was in awe of Chppawa he was flabbergasted by Queenston. He counted 60 wagons lined up at the docks to unload merchandise onto the ships moored there.
Having found the “Annie Jane”, the vessel that was to take him to York, and ascertaining her sailing time, he headed off to get some breakfast. The crossing would take eight or nine hours depending on the wind and he wasn’t sure if he could eat aboard. Friends teased him about sea sickness and he hoped that it was only teasing.
The crossing was fairly smooth and Abraham found that as long as he stayed on deck his stomach remained relatively calm.
After docking he went off to find accommodations for a least two nights and prepared to go to the government buildings the next day to settle his family’s business.
Abraham Stoner finished his business and spent one more night in York’s boarding schooner for the return trip. By the time he reached home he has been gone for five days. There is a good chance that he walked most of the way from Chippawa to Humberstone unless he was lucky enough to hitch a ride with a farmer on the Chippawa Creek Road.
Freight moved through the peninsula to and from the Northwest. Many fur traders moved along the Portage Road between Queenston and Chippawa patronizing the taverns that dotted the landscape. The trip from Queentson was slow and tedious. Although two oxen could easily pull a ton of cargo from the top of the escarpment to Chippawa, it took four or five to pull the load up from the Queenston docks to level ground. The wagons used on the road were supplied by local farmers who supplemented their income by hauling freight.
Growth along the Portage Road in Stamford Township became inevitable. The intersection of Lundy’s lane and Portage Road saw a fledgling community emerge right after the war that eventually became Drummondville. Stamford Village was laid out near the Stamford Green and St. John’s Church.
Freight destined for points in the interior was moved most often by water. The Chippawa was a busy waterway that was navigable up past *Browns Bridge. Lyon’s Creek was also of major importance. The creeks along the Niagara such as *Street’s, Frenchmen’s and Black all had small ribbons of settlement along their banks and were used extensively to move the goods of the farmers to their homesteads.
William Hamilton Merritt was beginning to flex his muscles again about this time and the Welland Canal was to change the transportation system in the peninsula and in Canada forever.
*Brown’s Bridge was s small settlement built around the bridge that once crossed the Chippawa at the foot of Pelham Road in Welland.
*Street’s creek is now known as Usshers creek. Its name was changed to honor Edgeworth Ussher, a militia officer, murdered during the rebellion of 1837-38.
By Robert J. Foley
[Welland Tribune, 29 February 1992]
As the crops ripened in the fields in the fall of 1820 and harvest time drew near preparations began for the coming winter. Chores essential for the survival of the family in the harsh days to come filled their days. Some of the older children inspected the mud and moss mortar that sealed up the cracks in the log wall of the house. Any weaknesses that the cold winds of winter might explore were repaired.
There were winter clothes to make as well as preserves of wild berries and garden vegetables to be put up. At this time of the year the women headed for the nearest marsh to pick the elderberries and blueberries that were abundant there. In the Welland area the Wainfleet Marsh was a popular spot for berry picking.
The butchering bee was a social occasion as well as a working day. Several neighbors gathered in turn at each other’s farms to slaughter and dress the meat for the smoke house. Beef was by far the favourite, however, more often than not it was hogs that provided the larder with most of its stock.
Before the killing of the hogs began a large kettle was set in the yard and a fire built under it. Usually one of the older boys was given the task of keeping the fire going to insure that the water was kept boiling. After being killed the carcass was scalded in the kettle to facilitate skinning. The fat was then gathered, cleaned, melted down and set in containers to cool. This became lard and would show up in the cakes and pie crusts that winter.
Smoking was the way that meat was preserved. Shoulders and sides of beef and pork were hung in the small building usually situated near the house. Sticks of birch, hickory or maple smouldered filling the place with smoke thus curing the meat. Sometimes corn cobs were used instead of wood. After being smoked the meat was covered with cotton cloth and given a coat of whitewash to discourage spoilage. The smoke house often doubled as a storage area for the cured meat.
Cuts of meat unsuitable for smoking were ground up and made into sausages. Preparing the intestines of the slaughtered pigs the women spent the day talking and stuffing the gut with pork and beef flavoured with salt and any other herbs that could be obtained either from the surrounding land or purchased in town. The head and feet were soaked and scraped, then boiled, the former to make head cheese, the latter souse. As you can see little of the animal was wasted by the early pioneers.
After completing the butchering the tallow from the slaughter was used to make candles and soap. This shortage of hard currency made the purchase of these two commodities out of the reach of most farmers. However, they often had to buy extra tallow to ensure a supply of candles to last the season.
Candle making was quite an art in itself. The large kettle in the yard that was used in the butchering was half filled with water that was kept hot with a small fire. The tallow was placed in the kettle and allowed to melt. Six cotton wicks, each ten to twelve inches long were tied to sticks two feet long. Holding two sticks in her right hand the woman of the house began dipping the wicks through the floating tallow allowing them to pick up a little with each pass until they reached the desired thickness. The sticks were then hung between two forked sticks to allow the candles to harden and the process began all over again.
It took expertise to make a smooth candle that burned evenly. There was nothing worse than trying to read or sew by the light of a sputtering, smoking candle. A good candle maker got a yield of a dozen candles to the pound and could process ten pounds of tallow at a sitting.
One of the sources of ready cash to the farmers of the peninsula was potash. This product was in ready demand and led to the deforestation of much of the province. Potash was made by cutting down trees and allowing the leaves and twigs to dry. They were then stacked and burned until the whole was reduced to ashes. Carefully raking the ashes off the top of the pile, the farmer poured them into a container called a “leach”, with lime and water. The lye produced by this mixture was drained through the bottom of the “leach” into an iron pot. The lye was then boiled until it thickened and was poured into a kettle-shaped half cooler. The final product was a very hard, brown material that was packed two to a standard oak barrel. Each barrel weighed about seven hundred pounds and would fetch the farmer $40.
The hard working people of the peninsula had little time for relaxation and fun. Much of the time they would combine leisure activities with the necessities of survival. An hour or two of fishing rested the farmer and added variety to the family diet. A morning beside a known deer trail was both relaxing and added to the larder for the winter.
After the chores were done the family gathered and played checkers while mother sat in her rocking chair and sewed. Books were scarce especially after the war, however, reading was popular and whenever the opportunity arose it was worth the expenditure of a candle. Books were often passed from one family to the other in the district. The first library in the peninsula was set up in 1824 at Brown’s Bridge located at the foot of Pelham Road in present day Welland.
With all this activity the farmer kept one eye on the weather and the other on his crop. The harvest was the most critical time for him and his family. Their survival depended on it.
By Robert J. Foley
[Regional Shopping News, 28 March 1990]
One of the problems faced by the Welland canal in the latter half of the nineteenth century was the rapid advance in ship design allowing them to carry larger payloads. By the late 1850’s the ships became too deeply drafted to enter the locks. The problem was temporarily solved by building the Welland Railway which would off load the ships making them lighter and then reloading them at the other end. Railroads became an important mode of transportation in the Peninsula.
One of the major companies involved was the Grand Trunk Railway Company. They ran two round trips every week from Port Dalhousie to Port Colborne on the Welland line with stops at all the towns in between. Always on the lookout for ways to turn a profit, the Grand Trunk developed Erie Park on a stretch of beach immediately east of the harbour in Port Colborne.
Erie Park was ideal for family picnics for its beautiful sandy beaches were protected from the treacherous undertow by the harbour piers. It quickly became a favourite destination for people along the Welland line.
During the summertime the railway gave special picnic rates every Tuesday and Friday. The return fare from Welland was 25 cents for adults and 15 cents for children. Sunday schools and other groups would normally book their outings for other days of the week. The park was a busy place as even people from Port Dalhousie and St. Catharines preferred the sandy beaches of Lake Erie to the rocky shores of Lake Ontario.
At the north end of the park was a long pavilion for large groups with a smaller circular pavilion situated on a knoll. Individual family shelters were scattered throughout the grounds and all were furnished with tables and benches for the convenience of picnickers.
The train ran right to the park which was equipped with a platform near the gates. On picnic days there would be two or three extra cars put on to accommodate the families heading for a day of fun. Getting a good seat on the crowed train and a table in the park was all part of planning picnic day. It was the job of the fleet footed youngsters to jump off the train and race to claim a stake on their favourite picnic spot leaving the rest of the family to follow loaded down with food baskets and the like.
The passenger coaches of the day were all an open platform type and the shouts of the conductor and brakeman trying to keep youngsters from jumping on and off the train while it was still moving was a familiar sound on these occasions. Needless to say trainmen did not enjoy picnic days.
Once the picnic was finished and everyone was tired of swimming and playing it was time to take the ferry from the park to the west bank of the canal which left one in the business section of Port Colborne. The ferry, which was a punt, has a capacity of ten and was propelled by one man standing in the stern with a long sweep which he moved from side to side in the water turning it diagonally at each stroke. The picnickers found the skill of the ferryman fascinating and many children went back and forth just for the ride.
Charlie Hart was the proprietor of an ice cream parlour on West Street in those days and a trip to Erie Park was not complete without a dish of Charlie’s famous ice cream served by his charming and beautiful daughters.
Many a youngster sat and watched the boats clearing and entering the canal and perhaps dreaming of pirates and adventure which surely must be the life of every sailor.
After an activity-filled day the family would round up its far flung members and trudge back to the platform to catch the train home. The return trip was a little easier on the train crew as most of the nimble feet had been left behind on the sands of Erie Park leaving aching ones that could barely step one in front of the other in their place.
Despite sunburn, weary limbs, scrapes and bruises the kids would all perk up just a little at the mention of the next picnic day at Erie Park.
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 19th and early 20th 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.
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