I was fascinated to read the column in the July issue by Bruce County historian Robin Hilborn about the lives of early settlers and about the book History of Bruce County by Norman Robertson.
I grew up in Bruce County, but much farther south than those Hilborn mentions in his column. In fact, when my great-grandfather on my mother’s side, Robert Purves took up land with his parents, it was on the northern edge of Huron County.
Then merely 17, he began clearing the land that he took up in Huron when his uncle and his wife came for a visit. They said they would stay if they could have my great-grandfather’s farm, so he moved across what is now Huron County Rd. 86 into the southern edge of Kinloss Twp.
He took up land that had a lake on it which became Purves’ Lake, still named that on Google Maps, though a later developer put a different name on it when he wanted to sell lots on the lake. That was the farm my mother grew up on.
It’s hard for us, even those of us living in the country, to imagine what life was like when this land was covered by trees. My mother passed on the story that my grandfather was in the bush one day and got lost, with nothing but trees in sight. He decided he could follow the river downstream from Purves’ Lake to where it emptied into Lake Huron at Port Albert, many miles away, then walk to Goderich and he could find his way back home, by road, from there. Fortunately he found his way home before he had to undertake such an arduous journey.
Living farther south in East Wawanosh, Jill and I moved to this separated farm home that was part of the McGowan settlement, northwest of Blyth. The rest of the farm plus another farm to the east, were owned by our neighbour across the road, Robert Charter, the last remnant of the several McGowans who took up several farms on our road.
I recall reading a story written by one of the Charters’ daughters that the original McGowan was outside one day when he heard a rooster crow to the west. He knew of no one living there so he investigated and found he had neighbours.
As you look out to the east of our house and see hundreds of acres with nary a tree in sight, it’s hard to imagine that once settlers had to take on the back-breaking task of clearing a few acres each year.
It’s hard too, to imagine what those settlers would think, as they planted crops by hand, harvested them with a scythe and sickle and threshed with a flail, if they could see the monster equipment that can now plant those 250 acres in a day, the machines that spray the weeds and the combines which harvest the crop in a single day each fall.
Things have changed drastically since we moved here. For instance, Robert Charter grew hay because he had cattle. He planted white beans, corn and wheat. White beans are seldom seen in our part of the country any more since soybeans were bred to withstand our weather and were more profitable.
As well, families are smaller and farmers, in our neighbourhhood at least, are older with relatively few children taking over the family farm. New farmers have taken over the Charter farm across the road and the land on our side of the road has been sold to cash-croppers.
And then there is the miracle of medicine. Even as a kid we still had polio, mumps and measles. I spent a winter in bed with rheumatic fever, unheard of today. On the other hand, I had heart surgery to replace a heart valve damaged by that fever. Recently, I had cataract surgery to replace lenses in my eyes. So far I’ve survived prostate cancer. In time past, I’d have died by my age.
We have so many miracles to be thankful for. We need to appreciate the good fortune of our times. ◊