Then one day flames burst out in a dozen places simultaneously and, although the family escaped, all was burned and lost.
John and his family moved to the safety of his father’s house, and life seemed to return to normal. But it was not over. Once more the fearful tramping started, day and night; the furniture moved about, and a heavy kitchen cupboard fell to the floor with a thud. McDonald sought help this time from one Reverend McDorman. He was different, at least for a man of the cloth — he acknowledged the dark side. McDorman told McDonald that he knew a doctor’s daughter who had the gift of second sight and the mystical power to do stone readings. John implored the reverend to take him to her. They travelled together for several days to see her. John told the young girl of the many mysterious happenings.
She listened intently and asked, “Did you ever have any trouble about a piece of land?”
“Not exactly trouble,” replied John.
“Did one of your neighbours desire to purchase a portion of your land and did you refuse?” asked the girl.
McDonald nodded.
The girl replied, “People in a long, low, log house?”
McDonald said, “Yes.”
Turning to her stone, the girl remained in a trance-like state for some time. Eventually, she asked, “Have you seen a stray black goose in your flock?”
“Yes,” he replied.
She continued, “In that bird lives the destroyer of your peace. It has taken the shape of a bird and it is your enemy. You shall mould a bullet of sterling silver and fire it at the bird. If you wound it, your enemy shall be wounded in some corresponding part of their body. Go and be at peace.”
Upon his return McDonald did as the young girl said. He and a party of men located a flock of geese by the river. He drew a bead on the black goose in the flock. The strange bird cried out like a human when it was wounded and made its way to the reeds with a broken wing.
Determinedly, John turned his footsteps toward the marsh, where the long, low, log house stood. One anxious look revealed all. There sat the old woman resting in a chair — and she had a broken arm. When she saw him, she pulled back.
For John McDonald and his family, no spiritual manifestations were ever seen or heard of again. Fact, it would seem, is truly stranger than fiction.
Bancroft
They call it Eagle’s Nest, a sacred place once worshipped by those who paddled the York River and lived in harmony with nature. The land was clothed in pine, the ground covered in a rich brown carpet of needles that felt only the soft tread of a moccasined foot. The passage of time gave witness to the loss of peace once found here, at this eagle’s cliff, as the settlers’ axes hewed the town of Bancroft.
In the northern part of Hastings County at the junction of Highway 28 and 62, approximately 104 kilometres (65 miles) northeast of Peterborough and 20 kilometres (12 miles) northwest of Belleville, is the town of Bancroft. It was originally named York Mills, because of the potential of the river, and then York River when the first post office was opened, May 1, 1861.
Although the history of the district of Bancroft does not start until the 1850s, Hastings County was in the news as far back as 1792. It was Governor Simcoe who proclaimed that Upper Canada would be divided into 19 counties; the 11th one was Hastings. This name was chosen in honour of the family of Francis Rawdon-Hastings (1754–1826), a military leader and distinguished soldier during the American Revolution. His family took their name from the town of Hastings in Sussex, England. Francis Rawdon-Hastings became the marquis of Hastings in 1817.
In order to settle Hastings County, officials needed to negotiate the right to the ownership of the land with the Natives. On November 5, 1818, Chief Pahtosh, the leader of the Chippewas in the area, along with other Native leaders, met with government officials to discuss the surrender of their territory. They agreed to surrender 1,951,000 acres of land to the government.
The main street of Bancroft circa 1915.
Archives of Ontario
For the sale of this land the treaty read, “Every Native man, woman and child will receive the amount of 10 dollars in goods at the Montreal prices, so long as such man, woman or child shall live, but such annuity will cease and be discounted to be paid in right of any individual who may have died between the respective periods of payment, and the several individuals then living, only, shall be considered as entitled to receive the yearly payment of 10 dollars in goods as above stated.”
The Native families diminished over the years until their paths in the forest were no longer visible and their sacred sites were lost to view.
The first white settlers to arrive in the area were the Clarks, in 1853. Tragedy knocked at their door when the wife and daughter drowned in the river at the mouth of the creek that now flows under Highway 62. This creek was later named Clark Creek in honour of Bancroft’s first family of settlers.
In the spring of 1855, hard on the heels of the first surveyor, two young Englishmen arrived, James Cleak and Alfred Barker. They were educated men, ready and willing to test their skills in this harsh new country. Cleak opened a store and became the first postmaster, but Barker’s fate remains unrecorded. Other early settlers included Henry Gaebel, Philip Harding, Thomas Sparrow, Patrick Kavanagh, the Vances, the Siddons, and the Sweets.
The construction of Monck Road, named in honour of Governor-General Lord Monck, began in 1866. The road started at Lake Couchiching and proceeded east to the Rideau Lakes. Although it was primarily built to open up the back woods of Upper Canada, it also served as a military trail. The Monck Road played a very strategic role in the settlement of York River, since it, along with the Hastings and the Mississippi Colonization roads, brought more settlers to the northern townships of the country. By 1868 York River’s population had swelled to 89 families.
It wasn’t long before the lumberjacks arrived to harvest the large stands of virgin forest. A lumber company, named Bronson and Weston, set up headquarters just east of present-day Bancroft. This company brought in hundreds of teams of horses to draw logs. In time, the Gilmour Lumber Company, the Rathburn Company, and the Eddy Company all worked limits in the area. The crews often worked together on the drives which started as the ice broke up. Many a man was drowned. One such river driver was laid to rest where the traffic lights now blink at the junction of Hastings and Bridge Streets and, as was the custom of the day, his boots marked the spot.
When rival lumber crews converged in Bancroft, the “fur” would fly. Each group had a champion strongman and, of course, a fight was always in order. The rules were simple. Each man carried a large stone to be tossed, like a gauntlet, to begin the fight. Once begun, anything went, and they fought till one lay helpless on the ground. It was then the privilege, or perhaps the obligation, of the victor to rake the fallen man’s face with his spiked boots and mark him for life as the beaten warrior. One assumes that the drink consumed during this revelry provided some anaesthetic benefits. Louie Brisette was one such river driver of long ago, who lost to a younger man, and was said to sport a heavy beard for the rest of his life.
By 1872, York River was beginning to take on the appearance of a permanent settlement, albeit a rowdy one, and often likened to the wild west. However rough, the lumber industry did assist the growth of the village and the commerce that came to support the necessities of life. A Methodist Church
