Tombstone Tourism: Decoration Day at Vinings

September 1 is Decoration Day at Vinings Cemetery, Concession 5, West Nissouri (or 22157 Purple Hill Road, Township of Thames Centre). So, when a friend decided to visit the graves of relatives who farmed nearby, I went for the ride, of course. After all, you never know who you'll find resting in one of these idyllic country graveyards. 

It's called Vinings after an early pioneer family. One Rev. Salmon Vining donated the land for the burial site, the first grave being that of his son Joseph, who died in 1855 at the age of 16 of typhoid fever. However, there's also the grave of one William Garner who died in 1837. Presumably, William was buried elsewhere and his body was re-interred at Vinings later:

Today, this is an attractive, well-cared for, Vining-filled burial ground, but it hasn't always appeared that way. In 1921, one Joseph Vining called a public meeting to deal with the "dreary desolation of long grass and berry bushes that were engulfing the stones." An army of volunteers answered his call, donating one day per week for a month to tidy the cemetery. Then a caretaker was hired, plotholders being charged $2 per plot to pay his salary. But guess what? Hardly any families paid up. Eventually, Joseph Vining's estate provided money for a perpetual care fund.* Today's trustees receive (some) money from the township. 

After World War I, the cemetery board of the period offered land at Vinings for a veterans' monument. However, West Nissouri Council opted to place the monument in nearby Thorndale for better visibility. Not that there aren't military graves at Vinings itself:

Sergeant Leonard Salter, 3rd Bn., Canadian Infantry, d. June 10, 1920, age 34.  Born in 1887 in Wakefield, West Yorkshire, to Thomas and Clara Salter, he died of pneumonia.

Wilbur Douglas Kennedy, Gunner in the Royal Canadian Artillery, d. Aug. 14, 1943 at age 23. Born in 1920 to Wilbur and Edna Kennedy, he died in Montreal following a mastoid operation.
Note the broken gravestone next to his, possibly damaged by a lawnmower. A common sight in pioneer burial grounds, broken markers usually remain unrepaired or unreplaced unless family steps in. 

Lieut. Roy L. Vining of the Canadian Machine Gun Corps, d. Dec. 19, 1918, aged 31. A son of Joseph Vining and Emma Lindley, he died of pneumonia at Guelph. 

All three men are remembered in the war memorial in Thorndale, one side of which has the additional names from World War II.

This cemetery has been expanded from its original size, an additional third of an acre being purchased in 1934. The attractive wrought iron sign was added in 1967, one of many Canadian Centennial projects across country. History in those days was important to Canadians and worth spending money on. 

Decoration Day services began at Vinings on the first Sunday of September, 1923 with 500 people in attendance. Decoration Day in 2024 had fewer than 50 and there's no service anymore. Instead, trustees held a "drop-in" event with a visitors' sign-in book. Folks came and left flowers at relatives' graves:

A word about cemetery expenses. The tree below will have to be taken down soon since it's hollow and in danger of falling, possibly damaging nearby graves. The cost will be exorbitant; perhaps some kind fairy godmother will wave her magic wand and donate the funds? 

Metal thieves stole an earlier version of this gate a few years back. This is an expensive replacement:

The way things cost these days, it's no wonder there's so many decayed rural cemeteries. Vinings is fortunate to have so many concerned local individuals to look after it and it remains one of the most attractive burial grounds near London. 

*Details from J. J. Leverton (ed.), West Nissouri Township 1818-2000. Our Heritage. Volume One, pp. 181-2.

Day Trips: Morpeth

Historical plaque at Morpeth features
the bell from S. S. No. 2, Howard Twp.

Morpeth, Chatham-Kent is a village after my own heart. It features a vanished lake port, deserted buildings, a pioneer cemetery, and monuments to its earlier citizens. What could be better for this backroads blogger? 

The community at Talbot Trail (Hwy. 3) and Hill Road (Hwy. 17) really started three kilometres farther south, where Big Creek flowed into Lake Erie. The river mouth formed a small harbour where wheat and other grains could be exported and a variety of goods shipped in. The port, precursor to Morpeth, was named Antrim. 

The first settlers at Antrim were the Ruddle family, formerly of Co. Antrim, Ireland. The Ruddle family was extensive and their genealogy complex, but, for those interested, there's a family history here. Family members founded a store or trading post, the first in Kent County on Lake Erie, as well as other businesses, including a tavern. The creek that meandered through their farms provided power for pioneer mills. In the 1830s, it appeared that Antrim would be a thriving community for generations to come.

Not that all was idyllic. Life was hard. Among the early burials at Morpeth Cemetery on the Talbot Trail are John and Thomas Ruddle, both of whom died on June 4, 1822, aged 39 and 27: 

The words at the bottom read: "They were inseparable in their lives and in their death they were not divided." Historian Marjorie Giddis suggested they may have drowned.* 

Eventually, something went wrong among these resourceful Ruddles. In the 1840s,  a partnership between Robert, William and James Ruddle was the driving force behind the community. When the partnership dissolved, the port village declined. Eventually, heirs of the Ruddle family sold hundreds of acres to an Anglican priest with the unlikely name of Rev. Humpisch Massingberd. Hoping to revive the community, Massingberd had this plan produced: 

The number of streets looks ambitious. But, unfortunately for Rev. M., the port had silted up. Howard Township didn't want the expense of keeping a high bridge across the harbour in good repair so it built one on ground level, a mistake that prevented boats from entering the harbour. Apparently Massingberd gave up and returned to his native England. His family stayed in the area until the 1940s but Antrim had reached the end. 

Unlike most "ghost towns," Antrim has been memorialized in poetry:

Ghost Port, by Frances Gillard Harvey

                            Antrim,

                            Fair and sure of name,

                            What happened    

                            To your glory, fame -

                            Your silted harbour,

                            Lying low,

                            Where bullrush, now,

                            And sumac grow;

                            Your brigs, your wharf,

                            Your land bridge, high;

                            Your warehouse, post,

                            Your mill close by? 

Well, as land was cleared and drained, the waterpower for the mills diminished and they were abandoned. The poem continues:

                            Antrim,

                            Only this, I know,

                            Your fathers, early,

                            Perished. So,

                            Failing times,

                            Combined with stress, 

                            Your ship was left 

                            Quite rudderless,

                            And that it foundered,

                            Less, perchance,

                            To do with pride

                            Than, circumstance!

Later, shipping facilities were built just south of Morpeth at Morpeth Dock, also known as Hill's dock after founder Erastus Hill. The map below shows Morpeth dock surrounded by Hill family landowners:

Section from Howard Township, Illustrated Historical Atlas of the Counties of Essex & Kent, 1880.

Morpeth had more luck as a community. Originally named Howard after the township, it was renamed after Lord Morpeth who visited his friend Thomas Talbot in about 1842. Although farther from the lake, it was on an important road. By the 1860s, it had as many as three hotels, 21 businesses, and perhaps 600 people.** W. L. Smith, in Pioneers of Old Ontario, describes Morpeth: "That thriving little village formed one of the greatest market centres for wheat in Western Ontario. At that time there was no Ridgetown and very little of Chatham. In fact, farmers then teamed grain from the immediate vicinity of where the Maple City now stands to sell it in Morpeth. It was a common thing to see three or four vessels lying at the dock and the lake front taking on grain, while a stretch of teams a mile and a half long, waiting for delivery, extended back along the road."***

One of Canada's greatest 19th-century poets, Archibald Lampman (1861-99), was born here. Just to the east of the village on the Talbot Trail is Trinity Anglican Church, where his father, also named Archibald, was minister. Since the family moved to the Peterborough area the year Junior turned six, he can't have remembered much about Morpeth and I doubt if he immortalized it in poetry. However, the Government of Canada built a monument to him on the church grounds:

Plaque reads: "Born in Morpeth, Upper Canada, Lampman spent most of his short adult life unhappily working as a clerk in the Post Office Department in Ottawa, for poetry was his true vocation. One of the "sixties group" which wrote Canada's first noteworthy English verse, his work shows the influence of English writers, particularly Keats and Arnold and of American nineteenth-century literature. Writer of many poems describing Ottawa's rural environs, he complemented his interest in Nature by commenting poetically on the dehumanizing effects of a mechanized capitalist society. He died at Ottawa."

Perched on a low hill - or what passes for a hill in the plains of Chatham-Kent - sits Trinity Anglican, east of Morpeth. There are magnificent views of Lake Erie from the grounds. 

Morpeth, on an important east-west road and close to the lake, prospered for some time. Then came the news that a railway would be built from Fort Erie to Windsor. Morpeth and Ridgetown competed for the tracks, but, unfortunately for Morpeth, the Canada Southern Railway was built through Ridgetown in 1872. From then on, Ridgetown grew and Morpeth declined in importance and population. You might say there was Less-Peth (groan). I'd guesstimate the current population of the village at about 250. While there are many people living here - retirees mostly - most business has disappeared, leaving deserted or deteriorating buildings at the main intersection:

I can remember this being an antique store a few years back.

But some buildings are being restored. David Benson and partner have restored the former Morpeth United Church, built 1877, and converted the lower level into an Airbnb. 

Note former entrance was on corner at left. This change was made years ago, not by present owner.

The upstairs sanctuary is being restored.

Next to the church is a pioneer home moved from another location. It's also a work in progress:

David's place, on the other side of the village, has also been beautifully restored. It can be difficult to see through summer foliage:

* The information in the link, the plan of Antrim, information about John and Thomas Ruddle, and the poem are from Marjorie Giddis, As the story is told: A History of Morpeth and Community. Ridgetown: The New Horizon Committee, 1986. 

** But 19th century population estimates often include everyone who picked up the mail at a particular post office. This estimate might have included numerous surrounding farm families. 

*** Quoted by R. M. R., "Records Reveal Antrim Village Was No Myth." London Free Press February 22, 1947. The Maple City is Chatham. I have no idea who R. M. R. was. Old-time historians who contributed to the F.P.'s Looking Over Western Ontario page often went by their initials. 

London's Churches Face the Music

St. Paul's Cathedral

 You may have noticed a decline in religious attendance   this century. Either people don't have faith, they've   invented their own, they have no time, or they don't like   being told what to do. Or all of the above. 

 The problem with this from an architectural   preservationist's point of view is the number of empty   churches. Many are unused and deteriorating. Some have   been torn down already. And it's a sad loss because   ecclesiastical architecture is some of our best. You don't   have to be religious to recognize church buildings as   beautiful, awe-inspiring spaces. Without them, our cities   will be bland indeed. 

 Some churches have been repurposed for residential or   commercial use. Not everyone's happy about it. Some   Christians believe that a building, once consecrated, should   be used for worship only. They'd rather see a church torn   down than become condos. I'd argue that the "church" is its   people, not the building. Still, I can see the point of view.   I'm not happy when adaptive reuse means a former church is   unsympathetically altered. The way some churches are "rethought" is a little weird. 

How do we continue to use churches for the reason they were built, find a way to make them financially viable, and not destroy our architecture? The answer is increasingly to turn churches into concert facilities, either full or part-time. Churches are large venues, capable of seating crowds, and they often have acoustic systems installed already. A minimal amount of renovation can turn many into music centres.

An example: The oldest church building in London is St. Paul's Cathedral. (Every London should have a St. Paul's Cathedral.) Ours is the seat of the Diocese of Huron in the Anglican Church of  Canada. Designed in the Gothic Revival style by architect William Thomas, the building was dedicated February 25, 1846. Even if you're not religious, you should go inside. If you haven't, you're missing an architectural and historical treat. The interior reminds me of an old English church:

Postcard dated 1912 shows St. Paul's interior

In recent years, the congregation has dropped, what with fewer people living downtown and fewer people attending services. But now there's a new plan that will help the cathedral remain viable. It's going to be a "creative sector incubator," to "spur economic growth in the music sector, create a collaborative network involving music industry leaders, and help post-secondary graduates find employment in the industry."* If you don't know what that means, I'll bet you're not alone. I'm not sure what the end result will look like either. 

But Trinity Centres Foundation, a Montreal-based charity, will be developing a business plan in partnership with the cathedral and Diocese of Huron to be revealed later this year. The plan is supposed to keep the cathedral operational and help London keep its 2021 UNESCO City of Music designation.

This means the main sanctuary will be an "event space," which I hope won't change the sanctuary much, although they will be removing pews.** There will be dance, theatre and sound studios in the basement and offices with board rooms in the upper storeys and surrounding buildings. 

So long as the church doesn't change too much in appearance, especially on the exterior, I'm fine with this. I hope they don't remove all the pews; other seating is more comfortable but pews look so churchy.  And I hope the "creative sector" doesn't depart too much from traditional ethics. I'd prefer not to see exotic dancers in the transept. 

Bishop Cronyn 

Reading about all this made me think about other churches used as concert halls. One of them - for a while - was Bishop Cronyn Memorial Church. Consecrated on December 14, 1873 on the southeast corner of Queens Avenue and William Street, the church was built in memory of the first Bishop of Huron, Benjamin Cronyn, and designed by Toronto architect Henry Langley. This beautiful building with ivy-covered walls and original Victorian stained glass closed in 2015, another victim of declining church involvement.

For a while it looked like Bishop Cronyn would also serve a musical purpose. In 2016 it was leased to Aeolian Hall for seven years, mainly to be used by El Sistema, Aeolian's free musical education program for children aged 6 to 14. This should have provided a long-term use for the building.

Unfortunately, the Aeolian's lease was not renewed, their offer to buy was turned down, and the diocese has not been able to sell the building. The result? Aeolian has moved its program to First St. Andrews United Church and Bishop Cronyn is now fenced off and used as a homeless shelter.***

First St. Andrew's 

 OK, so all is not a loss here. El Sistema continues and   First St. Andrews benefits instead of Bishop Cronyn.   First St. Andrew's is also a majestic building, worthy of   preservation. A homeless shelter, greatly needed in   these changing times, is certainly within the purview of   the Christian church. I'd just like to see a different, more   permanent use for Bishop Cronyn. I suppose that  will be   in a different world, one with fewer homeless and more   funding. 

 A more successful project is that of Metropolitan   United  Church, on the southeast corner of Wellington   and Dufferin. Built in 1895 and originally known as   First Methodist Church, it replaced Queen's Avenue   Methodist which had burned down. The style is   Romanesque Revival.

 Major renovations took place here in the fall of 2022,   providing the sanctuary with a stage. Now the home of   London Symphonia, Chorus London, and London Youth   Symphony, the church is another building serving  the   Christian and music communities. The project received   one of the Lieutenant Governor's Ontario Heritage Awards in 2023 as well as a 2023 London Heritage Award for Adaptive Reuse. 

Metropolitan United

Of course, the church as concert hall concept isn't new and isn't confined to London or Canada. Thirty years ago, when I was living in a different London, I noticed the number of historic churches also in use as music venues. In London, UK there's a great appreciation for centuries-old churches. While the city centre has few residents, it does have office workers, and I remember it was common for them to attend a concert on their lunch breaks. For examples, see the websites of St. Bride's  or St. Mary le Strand where they list upcoming recitals. Then there's St. Martin-in-the-Fields which gave its name to the famous chamber orchestra. There's also the former St. John's, Smith Square, damaged during the war. Rebuilt but not reconsecrated, it's also a musical venue.

Mind you, in the other London they have tourists from all over the world drop in to admire the history and architecture - and make small donations. And facilities like the macabre Café in the Crypt at St. Martin's are great for hungry sightseers. London, Ontario doesn't have these advantages - yet. But why not have a restaurant in the basement of Metropolitan, with a jazz ensemble to entertain on weekday noon hours? I can just picture the folks across the street at City Hall arriving in droves.

But certain questions come to mind: How many music venues does London need? Will the churches be remodelled tastefully? Can the concept be carried over into smaller churches in rural areas? Of one thing I'm certain - without these buildings, we will be poorer, both spiritually and architecturally.

* Quotes from here: https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/london/proposed-plan-brings-new-purpose-for-london-s-oldest-cathedral-creative-incubator-1.7036203 

**https://lfpress.com/news/local-news/diocese-foundation-eye-creative-hub-at-st-pauls-cathedral

*** Personal communication, Clark Bryan, July 19. 2024.

Day Trips: Port Dover & Area

 

When they think of Port Dover, many people picture the scene on the postcard at left.* And it's true that "motorcycle enthusiasts" converge on the village every Friday the 13th. Why? Apparently a group of biker friends had a great time in the village in 1981 on a date that just happened to be Friday the 13th. The good time was so good that they decided they'd return every Friday the 13th. The word got out. Now as many as 100,000 bikers converge on the village on a Friday the 13th in summer. The next party will be September 13th in case you'd like to be there.

For those of you who wouldn't like to be there, bear in mind that the 13th of the month falls on a Friday at least once a year and sometimes as often as three times a year. But take heart. That leaves over 360 days a year that aren't Friday the 13th. And the rest of the year Port Dover is a fairly quiet Canadian resort. If you're there in winter, it's very quiet. But I recommend a lovely summer day that doesn't fall on a Friday the 13th for the optimal experience. 

Since this is a history blog, you should known that the community was founded by Loyalists in 1794 and named after the English port of Dover. Before the War of 1812, the area north of today's port was known as Dover Mills. During the war, the Americans raided and destroyed much of the pioneer settlement. But the settlers rebuilt, recognizing that, not only did the Lynn River provide water power for their mills, but the location where the river emptied into Lake Erie was a good natural harbour. 

Not surprisingly, Port Dover became a prosperous fishing port, the fish being shipped out by rail and boat. But by the 20th century, Port Dover had also become a tourist hub, with summer visitors arriving by train, boarding locally, and visiting the beach and other attractions. 

The postcard below features a village house that took in summer boarders. Dated October 5, 1909, it's addressed to Mrs. George Smoke, McCreedy, Ontario, and the text begins: "Dear Cousin: This is a photo of our house. We had quite a number of summer people this summer but have got rid of them all now." It's signed by May, who doesn't sound like she was sad to get rid of the "summer people." I suspect that families took in summer boarders to augment their incomes but were happy to have their homes to themselves again coming autumn.

Port Dover is still a tourist destination, of course, but nowadays it's usually automobile daytrippers such as myself needing to get out of the city on a Sunday, see something different, and have a perch lunch. 

The Fishing Industry

It seems that the driving force behind any industry is market demand. If there's enough demand, an industry attempts to meet it by increasing product volume. So it's not surprising that demand for Lake Erie fish like walleye, whitefish, perch and trout increased from the time of first European settlement until well into the 20th century and that local fisheries worked hard to fill the demand. But in recent decades, climate change and disease have taken their toll on fish populations. And humans have really messed things up with habitat degradation, water contamination, and over-fishing with nets and electronic fish finders.** Commercial fishing isn't what it used to be.

Still, there are fish caught and you can eat them in the village. For example, the dining room at the Erie Beach still serves locally-caught fish, including perch. 

An old postcard features the Erie Beach Hotel, sometime after its opening in 1946:

Local History and Architecture

Port Dover has its fair share of well-preserved history and buildings. Perhaps of most interest is the 1904-06 Port Dover Town Hall, now reincarnated as the Lighthouse Theatre.

There's also the Harbour Museum which appears small but is jam packed with displays about the War of 1812, the fishing industry, shipwrecks, and the heroes who saved the lives of sailors. As well as the wheelhouse of a 1912 freighter:

At the centre of town is Powell Park ... 

... which hasn't changed much over the years, still featuring a bandstand and cannon:

This attractive square almost has enough monuments to provide strollers with the town's history without visiting the museum: 

Then there's this waterfall on the Lynn River:

In case you're thinking this would be a nice spot for a picnic, guess again. I slid down a muddy path through insect-infested brush to get this picture. Seems a pity it's not easier to get at. However, upon arriving home, I googled the site and found several comments stating this is private property. If so, the owners need to mark this more clearly. I didn't see any "No Trespassing" signs and I guess the numerous other visitors didn't either.

But back to local history.

Tombstone Tourism 

Next to the falls at the top of a hill is the historic McQueen Cemetery. It's situated in the pioneer hamlet of Dover Mills, the area ransacked by the Americans during the War of 1812. Daniel McQueen, buried here, was born in the American colonies in 1764, arrived here as a Loyalist, and died here in 1854. It was Daniel who built the first mill at the "Mills" and can therefore be considered the founder of the community. Numerous other members of the McQueen family are buried here as well.

Monument to Alexander McQueen, Daniel's father, a veteran of the Seven Years' War who fought under Wolfe at the Battle of the Plains of Abraham.

The graveyard is worth seeing - but be careful. Even for those of us who enjoy cemetery sightseeing, this spot is a bit of a challenge. Access to the site is via a steep walking path from Tisdale Road and, when it's damp after a rain, it's a good place to come a cropper:

Also, take your bug repellent, unless you're one of those lucky people the little biters don't like. Me, they love. My visit was short. 

Nearby Historic Places

Heading back to London, we travelled along the lakeshore for a while, eventually reaching Port Ryerse. For those of us hooked on history, the main feature is Memorial Anglican Church Cemetery, another Loyalist burial ground, complete with church.

The community was founded by Lieut.-Col. Samuel Ryerse, who fought for the British during the Revolutionary War and afterwards took refuge in New Brunswick. Later, upon receiving 3,000 acres in this area, he settled on Young's Creek and built a gristmill, which turned out to be another one the Americans burned. He died in 1812 and is the earliest known burial here. 

Incidentally, Samuel was the uncle of Egerton Ryerson. Ryerson seems to be the correct name for this family, Ryerse being a spelling mistake on Samuel's military records.*** Samuel's branch of the family continued this change of the family surname. 

Ryerse graves

This is another one of those places that's as good as a museum with lots to see, including black history in the form of this monument: 

Then there's this display, which includes a sign from the local school and an anchor retrieved from the harbour:

And this is cool. Too bad I won't be there to see it opened:

Still farther west on the lake is Normandale, an early 19th-century boom town turned sleepy hamlet. The Normandale ironworks was built by John Mason in 1816-17 and enlarged by Joseph Van Norman and his partners in 1821-22. There they made their Van Norman cooking stove along with other cast and wrought iron implements.  The industry lasted until the 1840s when local ore deposits were depleted. 

But, from my point of view, the area's restored buildings are the big draw:

* All postcards from the author's collection. 

**https://longpointbiosphere.com/download/long_point_environmental_folio_publication_series/Fisheries-of-Lake-Erie-and-the-Long-Point-Area-Past-and-Present-Compressed.pdf

*** https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Ryerson