[Welland Tribune November 26, 1897]
A quiet, but happy wedding took place on Thursday, Nov. 11Th, at 8.30 p.m., at the residence of Menno Moyer, at 315 Walnut st., Buffalo, N.Y., (brother of the bride), when Miss Eliza Moyer, second daughter of Michael Moyer of Humberstone, and Charles Dehner were joined in holy matrimony, by the Rev. Dr. Smith of St, James church. The bride was attended by her sister, Miss Sarah Moyer, while Charles Hoschke of Port Colborne supported the groom. The bride looked lovely in cream swansdown, trimmed with brocaded silk and bead trimmings, while the bridesmaid looked pretty in pale blue trimmed with white brocade silk and pearl trimmings. The bride carried a handsome bouquet of white carnations and was given away by her brother, after which a light lunch was served and the happy couple departed on their honeymoon trip.
DEATHS- MRS. E. ATKINS
[Welland Tribune March 29, 1947]
The death occurred at the Welland County General hospital yesterday of Edith Ellen Hodder Atkins, widow of the late Ernest Atkins in her 58th year.
Born in Dutton, Ont., Mrs. Atkins has lived in Welland 26 years, and also spent one year in St. Catharines. Previous to moving to Welland she taught school in the Dutton area. She was a member of Central United church, and of the Women’s Association and the Fidelis Club of the church. She was also a member of the Rebekah Lodge and the Order of the Eastern Star.
Surviving are one daughter, Betty June Atkins, of Welland; and five sisters, Miss Ann Hodder, of Welland, Mrs. Frank Wilson (Maud) of St. Thomas, Miss Emily Hodder of Dutton, Mrs. Eldon Huckstep (Lilly) of Rosetown, Sask., and Mrs. Roy Cook (Mary) of Toronto. Mr. Atkins predeceased his wife a year ago.
Funeral services will be held on Monday, March 31, at the Sutherland-Thorpe Funeral Home, 152 Hellems avenue, at 2 p.m. Interment will be in Fonthill cemetery.
By Robert J. Foley
[Welland Tribune, 22 February 1992]
Life was hard for the ordinary farmers struggling to recover from the war of 1812. Many lived in isolation along the creeks that flowed into the Niagara from Willoughby and Bertie townships or into the Welland River from Wainfleet, Crowland and Humberstone. Rebuilding houses and barns drained what little capital they had. Most made due with the crude buildings that had all but disappeared as prosperity had come to the peninsula at the turn of the century.
The struggle to survive held the undivided attention of the entire family. Chores were complete before all else. As soon as a child was old enough to comprehend he or she was given a task, simple at first, but they picked up their share of the burden as they grew.
For us, who simply flick a switch when we want light or run down to the supermarket for our meat and groceries, it is hard to imagine having to plan carefully months in advance to light, heat and feed a household, but that is exactly what the pioneers had to do. One eye had to be kept on the wood pile. Was there enough to last the winter? Is it time to cut next year’s supply? Often if the farmer miscalculated he would have to burn green wood with the resultant smoke that inevitably would linger in the room.
The laying up of preserves for the winter was a necessary task for every pioneer housewife. The fall butchering and the preservation of meat was calculated to see the family through as well as to provide income from the sale of pork and beef to the military garrison and the growing towns.
All the cooking and heating in the pioneer house emanated from the big fireplace in the kitchen. The fire has kept blazing during the day in fall and winter as the door was often left open, despite the cold, for light and to clear smoke from the house.
For cooking purposes the fireplace was outfitted with an iron crane with hooks to hold pots. By swinging the crane out the meal could be checked without leaning over the fire. Baking was done either in a small stove fitted into the fireplace or in a crude oven built in the yard. Winter and summer the bread was baked in this manner; wood was piled into the oven and burned, effectively to preheat the oven. The ashes were scraped out and the bread inserted, cooking with the heat retained in the walls of the oven.
The utensils used in the kitchen were crude by our standards. They were often handmade from wood. Spoons, ladles and forks were laboriously carved by the man of the house. Bread pans for raising the dough were hollowed out of solid pieces of wood. The large, long handled wooden paddly used for putting the bread in and out of the outdoor oven was often cut from a single piece as well.
Health was another problem that plagued our forbearers in the 1820s. Fifty-five percent of the children did not live to age five. Doctors were often military surgeons located at the various forts around the peninsula. Doctors began to appear in the larger centres like Niagara and St. Catharines, but were too far away to be of use to most of the isolated farms and communities.
With the shortage of trained medical doctors it fell to the more educated in the neighborhood to fill the gap. These “folk” doctors, who were usually women, kept a supply of bandages and medicines obtained from the military surgeons on hand to treat their patients. They were often versed in the home remedies brought from Europe as well as those of the local Indians. These same women also acted as midwives and were sent for when the time for delivery of a baby was near.
Chronic diarrhea, dysentry and cholera, caused by the primitive sanitation, were the chief health problems threatening the populace. The local home remedy might be the only medicine available. For the above mentioned ailments this would include oak bark. The practitioner boiled an ounce of the inner bark in a pint of water and administer it to the patient. Acorns and blackberry root were also used with good results.
Children were in constant danger from diseased that are considered little more than inconveniences today. Measles and chicken pox were dangerous. Many children died of fevers brought on by teething.
Another danger facing the pioneer was the possibility of injury. Serious wounds resulting from chopping wood were fairly common. The treatment was to apply a court plaster, bind the wound tightly and hope for the best. A court plaster was made with isinglass, a gelatin concocted from the air bladders of fresh water fish and silk. Anxious watch was kept for any sign of infection that almost led to amputation of the offending limb. Before the age of anesthetics such operations were painful as well as dangerous.
The patient was taken to the nearest surgeon, usually Fort George or Fort Erie. Liberal doses of rum or some other alcohol were administered to dull the senses. Knives and saws were warmed up to lessen the shock and the doctor went to work. If the person were lucky they fainted at the first touch, sparing them the ordeal that the cutting and sawing would entail.
[Welland Tribune, Early No Date]
Visit the Welland Museum in the old Carnegie Library
140 King Street
Welland, Ontario
The Welland Museum, housed in a completely renovated schoolhouse, records the history of the city since the first settlers arrived.
The earliest inhabitants of the region were the neutral Indians, whose way of life is described in the museum. The Neutrals tried hard to avoid conflicts with other tribes but were eventually wiped out by the Iroquois.
Exhibits include pictures of one of their villages and maps showing where they were located. Chipping flints, scrapers and a stone knife found in excavations are displayed.
A corner of the museum where the story of the United Empire Loyalists is told displays an old spinning wheel, snowshoes, a cradle and a sideboard.
The first wave of Loyalists arrived in Canada because they were no longer welcome in the United States but was followed by a second wave composed mainly of settlers seeking inexpensive land. Records show that only about half had English backgrounds. Many had Dutch, German, French and other ancestries.
The building of the first Welland Canal brought a third major group of people to the region because, with the primitive construction equipment then used, many hands were needed to dig the canal.
The majority of the third group were Irish who had originally emigrated to the U.S. to help construct the Erie Canal. When it was completed they moved to Canada to build the Welland Canal.
The most interesting exhibits in the museum relate to the building of each of the four Welland Canals. Models show the section of the canal which passed through Welland as it has appeared at various times.
One showing it as it was when it was first opened includes a reproduction of an aqueduct constructed of white pine that carried the canal over the Welland River, leaving sufficient clearance beneath to allow the passage of boats using the river.
The model of the second canal shows it as it was when it was completed in 1845. A new aqueduct had been built of stone and a wooden swing bridge could be moved out of position by hand to allow boats to pass had been installed.
A third canal is seen as it appeared in 1915, with a new swing bridge called the Alexandria Bridge. It was opened to traffic in 1902 and was operated by steam.
A model showing the fourth canal indicated its appearance in 1935 after a syphon culvert had been constructed to replace the aqueduct. Six concrete pipes carried the river underneath the canal.
In 1973 the Welland Canal Bypass was opened and diagrams show how a 4-tube syphon culvert now carries the Welland River under the Canal Bypass.
Welland in Victorian times is represented in the museum by a furnished parlor typical of that era, complete with framed lithograph of Queen Victoria, an organ, a phonograph with cylindrical records, a showcase with typical crockery and glassware, a harp, a stereopticon and antique dolls. Press a button and you can listen to recordings made in that era.
Children visiting the museum enjoy the Whirligig. It is contraption of wooden toys built in 1978 by G. H. McWhirter, age 84 years. The little operating figures are all driven by a single electric motor.
At the rear of the museum there is a blacksmith’s shop and a general store with showcases made in 1890, now used to display artifacts dating from the last century.
Cecil McPhersons Hosts At Anniversary Dinner
[Welland Tribune, January 13]
Wellandport, Jan. 13-Mr. and Mrs. Cecil McPherson of Wellandport entertained last night on the occasion of their 53rd wedding anniversary, Mrs. McPherson was the former Florence McCaffery of Silver street, Bismarck, and was married in the year 1887 on her 18th birthday. Mr McPherson will be 75 years of age on February 20th, and both are enjoying good health. They were attended at their wedding by Miss Victoria Rozell, later Mrs. Samuel Fisher, and Soloman McPherson, brother of Mr. McPherson.
Mrs. McPherson had as her guests at 6 o’clock dinner. Mr. and Mrs Henry Jupe, Mr. and Mrs. John Barwell, Mr. and Mrs Herbert Dawdy, all of Wellandport, and Mr, and Mrs. John Cosby of Silverdale, but formerly of this place.
Mr. and Mrs. McPherson are a most loved and respected Christian couple, and have been very active workers in and near Wellandport all of their married life. Mrs. McPherson also takes a very active part in the Women’s Association of the United church, and Mr. McPherson has been a member of the church board for a great number of years.
[Welland Tribune March 29, 1947]
Funeral services for the late Mrs. Ellen Miller of Ridgeway were conducted by Rev. P.P. Wilt at St. Luke’s Church on Tuesday, Mrs. Miller-the widow of Michael Miller who predeceased her in 1943- had been an active member of the church since 1912. She died suddenly on Saturday afternoon.
Born at Fort Erie on February 21, 1872, Mrs. Miller was orphaned at the age of nine when her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Stephen, died. She then lived at the home of Mr and Mrs. Christian Foreman, Ridgeway, until her marriage in 1890.
The Millers had a farm two miles west of Ridgeway and they lived there until their retirement which they spent at Ridgeway..
Mrs. Miller was a charter member of the Ladies Aid Society and served as its president for several terms. She also took an active part in the management of the Sunday School.
She is survived by a sister, Mrs. Mary S, Smith and a nephew, George Smith.
Interment was in the Beach cemetery.
[Welland Tribune March 25, 1947]
The death occurred at Welland County hospital Monday morning following an illness of two weeks of Josephine Adella Neff, widow of the late Edward Neff, in her 78th year.
The late Mrs. Neff was born in Sherkston and had resided there all her life. She is survived by two daughters, Miss Fern Neff, St. Thomas, and Miss Alta Neff, Sherkston, and two sons, Grant and Raymond Neff, both of Sherkston. She was predeceased by her husband, Edward, in 1923; by two daughters, Grace and Marion, in 1929; by a son, Norman in 1938 and by a son, Howard in infancy.
The body is resting at the Dell and Merton funeral home, 50 Clarence street, Port Colborne. The funeral will be held from the chapel on Wednesday, March 26 at 2p.m. to Overholt’s cemetery. Rev. Mr. Killam, pastor of Sherkston United church, will conduct the service.
[Welland Tribune December 17, 1897]
Number in the home, Dec. 16th-51
Charles A. Hart, an inmate, committed from Bridgeburg, died on Wednesday, aged 73 years. The body was taken to Dunnville for interment.
[Welland Tribune January 12, 1940]
Beamsville, Jan. 12- Dr. John Benjamin Stallwood, 62, one of Lincoln County’s best known physicians, died at his home here yesterday after a lingering illness.
He was a native of Hagersville and had been practicing in Beamsville for the past 29 years. He was medical officer of health for many years and at the time of his death was chairman of the local Board of Education.
He had taken a keen interest in municipal affairs. He was a member of Ivy Lodge, A.F. and A.M. and a staunch member of Trinity United church in the affairs of which he had also been actively interested. Surviving are his widow the former Lena Garbutt; one son, John and a daughter Margaret at hiome.
By Gerald D. Kirk
[Toronto Paper, Date Unknown]
Mr. Kirk was the 2nd prize winner.
It wasn’t a village, much less a town, just a random collection of crude dwellings and outbuildings along two main trails that intersected at Calvin Cook’s mills. Lyon’s Creek, that gave power to the saw and grist mills, was swollen from the uncommonly heavy autumn rains that had made a morass of much of Crowland township. Now in mid-October wheat from surrounding farms was still in the process of being ground into flour and meal, some earmarked for the British forces camped at Chippawa.
Calvin had been hard-pressed to accommodate the multitude of farmers anxious to transform their grain into flour before the onset of winter. Two years of war had devastated much of the Niagara frontier, and most other mills south of the Welland River lay in ruins.
But as they worked, the millers cast anxious glances out of flour-dusted windows toward the road from Fort Erie, with that special anxiety civilians feel in the proximity of two frustrated and desperate armies. For days the settlement had lived in a constant state of alert, an alert sharpened by the sight of Brown Bess muskets issued to the farm boys guarding the mills.
It was less than an hour after daybreak. The grey smoke of cooking fires mixed with mist still rising from the Niagara and from the campground sprawled low and soggy on its west bank. Fewer men had turned out for reveille than the day before, and the grim shadow of dysentery now hung over the tent of commander, U.S. General George Izard. A large column of infantry and cavalry that had been formed up on the river road began crossing the log bridge over Black Creek, wheeling left onto the trail leading away from the river. Ahead lay the dismal tamarack swamp that Niagara folk did their best to avoid at the driest of seasons.
The horse soldiers led the way, and behind them the commandant of the expedition, Brigadier General Daniel Bissell. His orders were safely tucked into a pouch in his saddlebag, but the contents kept coming to mind: “proceed to Cook’s Mills…reconnoitre the area….destroy the grain and flour…await reinforcements.” Not mentioned on paper but an objective nonetheless was the capture of Misener’s Bridge and the bridge at Pelham/Thorold line, both strategic crossings over the Welland River. Both were in easy marching distance of Cook’s Mills. But what if something went wrong. The prospect of a retreat back across the tamarack swamp caused beads of perspiration to appear on Bissell’s forehead despite the coolness of the October morning.
The sun was already past its highest point in the sky when the American column finally reached the deeply rutted road to Cook’s Mills. Tired and hungry, the men squatted along the road on whatever dry object they had or could find, and munched the hard biscuits each carried in his knapsack. The pause was mercilessly brief, and soon the march was resumed. Less than two hours later the dragoons in the vanguard spotted smoke from the cabin chimneys of Yokum, Buchner and Cook.
Shots were fired by the militiamen guarding the causeway over Lyon’s Creek, but the small force of defenders scattered as the Yankee dragoons charged, sabres gleaming in the afternoon sun. The last to attempt to escape, militia Captain Henry Buchner was quickly surrounded by dragoons and forced to surrender. Women, children and the elderly peeked from their places of concealment to behold the astonishing sight of a seemingly infinite number of blue and grey uniforms flooding their settlement.
Orders were immediately issued to set up camp, and the soldiers began assembling the small tents that would shelter them for the next two nights. By dusk the fields opposite the mills were a sea of canvas, and the men were beginning to build fires to cook their evening meal of dried peas thickened with crumbled biscuits.
Suddenly, there was a commotion on the outskirts of the encampment as plucky farmwives belabored some soldiers for pulling down fence rails to use for fuel. To no avail; before long, most fences in the vicinity were only a memory.
Sleep would come hard for most of the American soldiers camped on the damp ground that chilly October night. Many were natives of southern States and not at all accustomed to the Niagara autumn. But their discomfort would be forgotten as the report of musket fire echoed form the direction of the outpost east of the mills.
The disturbance lasted on a few seconds, but it seemed like hours to the men crouching near the fires, gripping their muskets. Then the only sound was the whisper passing from group to group…”He was one of ours” Then an uneasy stillness returned.
Hardly had the stars and stripes been hoisted up the makeshift flagpole the next morning than green uniforms were spotted on the Chippawa road. Glengarries! Lightly equipped with short flintlocks designed for guerilla-style warfare, these hardy soldiers of Scottish descent formed a unit selected to spearhead the British response. As they approached the American outpost the Glengarries suddenly divided, some proceeding forward, the rest veering to the right into the bush screening the camp. The Yankee picket fired, reloaded and fired again-then scrambled to escape the bayonets of the foe who were by that time clambering up the side of the ravine protecting the position.
The encampment was in virtual turmoil Officers awaited orders-but Bissell seemed incapable of organizing a defence, and in no time the British were in full view, expecting a parade-ground battle. Bissell was, in fact, in no condition to command. His officers could hardly fail to notice something amiss in his behaviour, and the full extent of his nervous exhaustion would become quite apparent after the fray.
“They’ve got cannon…and rockets!” Now the American officers acted without orders-directing their men to take cover in the woods surrounding the camp on three sides. The cannon, a light six-pound fieldpiece, bellowed, and splinters flew as the grapeshot slammed into trees shielding the invaders. Then it was the turn of the rocketeers, who could no more than aim their terror weapon in the general direction of the enemy. Panic seized the soldiers cowering in the meaningless shelter of the woods as rocket snaked through the air toward them, for it was well-nigh impossible to predict where and when they would explode. When the blast finally occurred, lethal chunks of cast iron flew in every direction.
Take the cannon! The terse order would certainly mean casualties but there was simply no alternative for the Americans. Colonel Pinckney immediately directed his 5th United States Regiment to begin moving through the forest to the right of the British, hoping to outflank the enemy before being detected. But someone noticed shadows moving through the trees and instantly the cannon began slamming round after round of grapeshot in Pinckney’s direction.
While the British were momentarily distracted, American soldiers and dragoons opposite the cannon began emerging from the woods, forming for a charge. One unit, the 14th Infantry Regiment, had a particular score to settle from the humiliation of Beaverdams the year before. This would be a day of reckoning!
Now the tide of the battle had turned. Faced with imminent attack from the west and north, and with the high, steep bank of Lyon’s Creek on the south, the British had no choice. The bugle sounded retreat, and a quick but reasonably orderly withdrawal took place, back in the direction of the bivouac at the Lyon’s Creek Settlement. The Americans pursued to within a musket shot of the meeting house opposite Misener’s farmhouse before turning back.
Back at Cook’s Mills, details were ordered to bury the dead of both sides and to destroy the grain and flour mill-whatever could not be lugged to the camp at Black Creek. For days thereafter the mill pond displayed a thick crust of wheat, oats and corn. Confident the British had been thoroughly discouraged from further interference, General Bissell decided to stay put to await reinforcements and further orders.
Both arrived that night. The American force at Cook’s Mills now nearly equalled the effective fighting strength of General Drummond at Fort Chippawa-but on the afternoon of October 20th, Bissell ordered his entire detachment to return to Black Creek. It was a fateful decision if ever there was one. Had he crossed the Welland River, he could possibly have liquidated Drummond’s force, and gone to conquer the entire Niagara peninsula. But he pulled back, and the opportunity was forever lost.
Cook’s Mills was the last gasp of a ridiculous war that brought two years turmoil to the Niagara frontier. Most of the settlers of Crowland township were born in the United States; some had fought for the cause of American independence. Loyalism had not figured prominently as a reason for settling in Upper Canada, not for most. But the war, and in particular, the events of October 18th-20th of 1814, changed a lot of Crowlanders. They were Canadians.
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