Hidden Ontario (13 page)

Boyle dug in, starting with the oval mound at the eastern extremity of the structure. Soon a trench two metres (six feet) wide, across the mound and to the western end, was completed. He discovered two skeletons in a sitting position, a skull, and long bones at a depth of 0.6 metres (two feet). He concluded that these were recent burials. At a level of one metre (three feet) in the second trench, he located another skeleton lying on its right side and surmised that the body had been placed there prior to the construction of the mound itself. He also found a human skull, an animal mandible, canine teeth, mussel shells, and charcoal. It was near the centre of the mound that he unearthed burnt human bones (not associated with ashes or charcoal), several pottery fragments and, at the base level, a circle of stones “crudely put together” about 1 metre (3 feet) in diameter. Next was the opening of the serpentine structure in two places. The first opening was made about 21 metres (68 feet) from the tail and the second at the eastern extremity, near the head. There he discovered a much-decayed human bone in the first cut and comparatively recent burials less than 45 centimetres (18 inches) from the surface, near the head of the serpent. Boyle also found human remains in the other four elliptical mounds lying along the south side of the serpent.

Boyle began, almost at once, to pressure the government to preserve the site as a provincial park, as an ancient historic site, and as a Native burial ground. He even approached the owner of the property, who offered to sell the four-acre site for $450. The government, unfortunately, had no intention of providing more parks for the public so soon after the creation of Algonquin Park in 1893. It was fortunate, indeed, that the mounds were protected by the owners. In 1933, the Hiawatha band of the Mississauga Nation purchased the property and leased it to the Ontario Department of Lands and Forests. In 1956, the site was turned into a provincial park — 60 years after Boyle had first proposed the idea.

News of the discovery prompted people throughout the county to provide information about other possible mounds and village sites in the area. Soon, Boyle was back to do a field survey of the Rice Lake– Trent River shoreline and islands. At the mouth of the Otonabee River, he found three burial mounds. It was there that he discovered a large engraved stone, resembling a turtle, the back of which was crudely ornamented with concentric circles, scrolls, and shallow depressions or borings. Burial mounds were also discovered on some of islands of Rice Lake. One site revealed a half-seated skeleton with its legs drawn up and its hands on its breast. Around the neck was an eight-strand necklace of copper beads and shell disks, and near the right arm was a perfect tablet, a biconcave gorget, or armour plate, of translucent Mexican onyx.

Boyle believed he had discovered structures that had been made by Middle Point Peninsula people who were indigenous to the Trent water system and who had in some way been influenced by the Ohio Hopewell Indians.

There is a recorded oral account by Paudash, son of Paudash, son of Cheneebeesh, son of Gemoghpenassess. It states, “I, Robert Paudash, with my son Johnson Paudash, am desirous of putting on record for the first time the solemn traditions of the Mississaugas with respect to their present place of settlement in Ontario, and the migration which led them thither. No word of what I am about to say has come from reading, or in any other way than from the mouth of Paudash, my father, who died, aged 75 in the year 1893, the last hereditary chief of the tribe of Mississaugas, situated at Rice Lake, and from the mouth of Cheneebeesh, my grandfather, who died in 1869, at the age of 104, the last sachem, or head chief, of all the Mississaugas [Ojibwa].”

The story refers to the migration of the Ojibwa into southern Ontario around 1690 and what happened in the Rice Lake district. According to Robert Paudash, the Mississaugas held a great council of war and decided to attack the Mohawks and drive them out of what is now southern Ontario. The Mohawks, a fierce and warlike nation, resisted. The Mississaugas travelled down the Severn River to Shunyung (Lake Simcoe) and stopped at Machickning (which means Fish Fence) in the narrows between Lake Simcoe and Lake Couchiching to get supplies of food. There they also received reinforcements, made preparations for a campaign, and divided into two parties. The main body proceeded along the portage, now called Portage Road, to Balsam Lake, while the other party went south to what is now Toronto. After a number of skirmishes, the Mohawks retreated down the valley of the Otanabee and onto Rice Lake. Several battles were fought until they made a stand at what is now Keene.

Robert Paudash adds, “There was a Mohawk village in front of the former site which is a mound in the shape of a serpent, and having four small mounds about its head and body in the form of turtles. These mounds are a pictorial representation of Mohawk totems placed there by the Mississaugas in memory of the occurrence and of the Mohawks. It has been supposed by some to mean more than this, but my father has so stated it.

“The Mohawks fought well, but the Mississaugas were just as good. An attack having been made upon this village the Mohawks were compelled once more to retreat.”

Back now, to my personal story.

When I first approached Serpent Mounds, I had a feeling that I had been there before. Climbing up the path, I came to an historic plaque and read the inscription. When I saw the name David Boyle, I knew there had to be a connection. I approached the mounds and then caught sight of the oak trees. I knew immediately that these trees somehow played a significant role in this site, as did the view of Rice Lake. You could sense the sacredness. No words needed to be spoken. Serpent Mounds left me with an impression of beauty, reverence, and mystery.

Serpent Mounds inspired me to learn more about David Boyle and the oak trees. On a trip south, I stopped at a burial mound in the state of Michigan. I needed to compare it to the mound at Keene. Sure enough, the mounds were located in a grove of oaks and were also close to water. The sites looked and felt the same. Coincidences?

If you visit Serpent Mounds, or Keene, or perhaps another place to which you find yourself drawn, don't ignore your feelings. Explore them and you may unlock some mysteries of your own.

 

Exploring the north shore of Lake Ontario in 1671, Sieur de la Salle recommended the building of a fort and fur-trading post at the present site of Kingston. The Natives called this location Cataraqui, meaning “rocks standing in water.” On July 12, 1673, Count Frontenac, governor of New France, arrived with a flotilla at Cataraqui and met the local Native chiefs, assuring them of his peaceful intentions. Frontenac then proceeded to construct a fort. The next year, La Salle was appointed commandant of the fort and the beginning of a settlement took place.

When La Salle was away on one of his expeditions, the fort was taken over by Governor de La Barre, Frontenac's successor. The next governor, the Marquis de Denonville, imprisoned two Native chiefs and, in reprisal, the Natives of the district burned the settlers' homes and crops. They besieged the fort for two months. In 1689, Denonville ordered the destruction of the fort and moved the garrison to Montreal. When Count Frontenac again became governor, the fort at Cataraqui was restored. In 1756, the fort was used as a base by French commander-in-chief Montcalm during a battle of the Seven Years' War, fought between the British and the French for the control of what is now Canada. During the war, 1,600 British prisoners were housed at the fort after the French victory of Oswego. One prisoner, by the name of Michael Grass, survived this ordeal to become one of the founders of Kingston. The British captured the fort in 1758, destroyed the fortification, and moved the garrison to Montreal.

For the next 25 years, the area remained deserted. On nearby Carleton Island, a fort was built and many United Empire Loyalists sought refuge here during the American Revolution. Meanwhile, in 1783, Major John Ross had restored the old fort at Cataraqui and became the first commandant of the Imperial Garrison. The fort was renamed Tete-de-Pont Barracks. Surveyor John Collins arrived at the same time and laid out the original town plot of Kingston. When Carleton Island became part of the United States, by the Treaty of Paris, many of the Loyalists moved to the fort at Cataraqui.

Captain Michael Grass arrived in June 1784, with the first group of Loyalists, who lived temporarily in the fort. By October the settlers had built their first homes.

Kingston was originally named King's Town by the United Empire Loyalists who settled there. By the early 1790s, the community boasted 50 homes and stores, including the government store at the lower end of Store Street (now Princess Street). The government established a naval dockyard on Point Frederick, on a site now occupied by the Royal Military College. The marines and shipyard workers at this site were connected by ferry to Kingston. In 1792, Kingston became the seat of government of Upper Canada. The first Executive Council met here on July 17 under Lieutenant-Governor John Graves Simcoe. However, Simcoe did not feel Kingston was a suitable capital and soon moved the government to Newark (Niagara-on-the-Lake) and later York (Toronto).

The geographical location of Kingston, at the mouth of the St. Lawrence, meant that goods were transferred here from river boats to lake boats; this made it a major trading centre between Montreal and the Lakehead. By 1800 Kingston was a regular customs port for American goods.

Kingston was one of the few settlements in Upper Canada where marriage licences were issued. The community, as a result, became known as something of a honeymoon resort.

During the War of 1812, five wooden blockhouses were constructed around the settlement, and the first Fort Henry was built. Although Kingston was never assaulted by American troops during the war, the community did experience some prosperity as a result of troops, sailors, and shipbuilding activities in the vicinity. By then the population had increased to 2,250.

In 1828, a serious bout of typhus broke out among the Irish families brought here during the construction of the Cataraqui Bridge and the Rideau Canal. A cholera plague in 1832 killed 10 percent of the population of Kingston. In 1847 thousands of poor Irish people, who had left Ireland as a result of a potato famine, brought a cholera epidemic to Upper Canada. It was estimated that 1,200 people died from this epidemic in Kingston; they were buried in a mass grave near the Kingston General Hospital.

Kingston was incorporated as a town in 1818. By 1841 the town had become the capital of United Canada, the newly united Upper and Lower Canada. Three years later the government abandoned Kingston as the capital of the province in favour of Montreal. It was during this period that Queen's University was founded.

Many immigrants who arrived in Kingston had no means to proceed any farther and joined the ranks of the unemployed. Begging, gambling, prostitution, and theft became the livelihood of many living on the fringes of Kingston society, as well as the fringes of the town.

The cholera epidemic of 1847 left many widows, orphans, elderly, and disabled persons unable to survive on their own. Kingston officials called a meeting in November of that year to establish a House of Industry (hostel). In December the House of Industry opened its doors and in the first month of operation admitted 183 persons; 175 of them were Irish-born. Of the inmates, 44 were widows (and another three originally listed as widows appear to have married before leaving the hostel), and 63 were children under the age of 10. There were some strange methods used to aid the poor. The guiding principle for charity pertained only to the “deserving poor.” Some believed that the poor had brought their misfortunes upon themselves as a result of sloth, dissipation, or other moral lapses. Therefore, the House of Industry had rules. The rules stipulated that no person of bad character, “especially unchaste women with bastard children,” should be admitted; the possession or consumption of liquor meant instant eviction.

One of the great social problems among the poor, unsurprisingly, was drunkenness. In 1842, 136 licensed taverns operated in Kingston to serve a population of 9,000. City officials saw fit to pass a bylaw to restrain and punish “Drunkards, Mendicants and Street Beggars.”

Was it surprising that some residents and officials believed that the poor were also suffering from insanity? Why else would they behave in such a manner? Toronto architect John Howard first broached the idea of an asylum for Kingston as early as 1829. At that time the mentally ill were simply tossed into county jails like criminals. In 1830 the House of Assembly in the province of Upper Canada took the first step to differentiate between criminals and the mentally ill when it authorized “provisions for the relief of lunatics.” However, it took another 11 years before the government initiated separate accommodations.

Kingston and Toronto were considered the likeliest candidates for such accommodations. Kingston had a population of 5,000; Toronto had a population of 13,000. Toronto won the deal.

At that time, a wealthy man by the name of John Solomon Cartwright was struck with the “Italian Villa” craze that had taken Kingston by storm. Cartwright built Rockwood Villa in 1841, in a style described by historian as Tuscan and Neo-Baroque. The centre of the house was an octagonal rotunda that extended up two floors, surrounded by a balcony at the second level, and crowned by a panelled dome containing a rose-glass skylight. Unfortunately, Cartwright died in 1844. A Mr. John Palmer Litchfield, thought to be a former inspector of hospitals in South Australia and the former medical superintendent of the Walton Asylum in Liverpool, rented the house in 1854, with the intention of turning it into a hospital.

Now Litchfield was quite a scoundrel, a con artist and, at the very least, was definitely of dubious character. Litchfield had at one time worked as a newspaper reporter in Europe and used this career to slip into outpatient clinics in London. Once there he masqueraded as a medical student, observing and learning enough about medical procedures to “get by” in any technical conversation.