Paddling to the Backwoods

Stories of British Immigrants’ First Experiences in the Kawarthas in the 1830s

For the first generation of immigrants to the Kawarthas, it was a moment they would never forget: Their first experiences in what they called ‘the Backwoods.’ Having grown up in Britain, where they were used to the conveniences of an industrializing nation, few knew what the journey would bring—though there were emigrants’ guides and many knew someone who had been to the Americas. Once they were in region, many relied on the native inhabitants to guide them to their lots.

A disproportionate number of the first British immigrants were wealthy, single, young males—typically younger sons who would not inherit the family fortune. These men were often adventurous, and hoped that by emigrating they could raise themselves to a social standing that they lacked the money to enjoy back in Britain. In Britain, for centuries, the landed aristocracy were elites. Many of these immigrants amassed large holdings of forests, with wildly ambitious ideas of how this would be easily translated into aristocratic estates. As soon as John Langton arrived at his ‘estate’ on the north arm of Sturgeon Lake, he declared that he had become “a Lord of the soil.”

This “Lord of the soil” initially had a rather rustic abode: four trees covered with wild vines, with a canoe as the roof—it was “truly and very airy.” He spent his first night sleeping under the drip of the canoe, and found himself “considerably cold” when the fire went out. He had brought labourers with him: “I woke up the men and made them get another fire, and for an hour or two I amused myself toasting potatoes at it till I got dry, when I went to bed again and again acted the part of gutter to the roof until morning.”

There was no escaping the ravaging insects—even once immigrants had constructed a log house or shanty—these buildings were not airtight and they lacked window screens. John Langton tried to count the number of spots that he had on his face and hands, and arrived at the figure of 500 to 1000. Mossom Boyd travelled to Bobcaygeon to visit his friend John Darcus, who was known as a “dandy… for his foppishness.” While Boyd had been expecting to see his fashion-conscious chum, Darcus’ face, neck and hands were blackened (likely from burning the trees that were downed, or as a makeshift means of escaping the insects). “His ragged shirt & pants, his close-cut hair, face all red with gored blood from mosquito bites etc. was a far different object than when I last saw him. I felt like turning back, but he insisted on my stopping a week with him, which I did.” Of all the aspiring young gentry who came to the upper lakes in the 1830s, Boyd was the only one who would remain in the community for the rest of his life.

For Thomas Need, who loved hunting and fishing, some of the most memorable moments of coming the Kawartha Lakes would likely have been the time that he spent learning Michi Saagiig hunting and fishing techniques. Most Victorian British gentlemen shared sensibilities about sportsmanship—principles of what were the ‘civil’ ways of hunting and fishing. But for Thomas Need, standing in a canoe, at night, spearing fish that were attracted to the jacklight supported in front of the boat, was far more exciting than still fishing. Many gentlemen would capsize their canoe when they first tried to spear a fish under water—because water refracts light, the fish would not be quite where it appeared. The local inhabitants’ techniques for hunting, were just as invigorating—often using dogs to flush out game. At times, he would have the labourers, whom he had brought to help develop Bobcaygeon, act as hounds flushing deer out of the woods for him to shoot. In the years that followed, he would spend a lot of time travelling with local Michi Saagiig to hunt—while passing management of his business ventures to the more industrious Mossom Boyd.

While for these adventurous young bachelors, the adversity that they had to overcome was a big part of what made journey exciting. But when the time came for John Langton’s parents, aunt and sister to join him on Sturgeon Lake, those experiences would not have the same charm. For their arrival, he would oversee the construction of what was one of the nicest houses that existed in the area at the time—which was not quite done when they arrived.

Anne Langton described the journey up Sturgeon Lake to her new home at Blythe with an artists’ eye: “The lake has little beauty or picturesque scenery, the banks are flat with no clearings on the left—a line of forest, but as we approached Blythe there were a few pretty inequalities in the banks, and about 6 o’clock we were rowed to the landing-place under a bright sun. Whilst disembarking the gents all seemed to disappear so we found ourselves alone, and John led me up a most rugged path, seemingly very happy and proud to welcome his parents to his little habitation in the backwoods. All certainly looked wild, but his little cottage was made comfortable for our reception and promises snugness, but with primitive simplicity, where we may be very comfortable till our own house is ready to receive us. It is rather a pretty-looking cottage higher up from the lake. It looks naked, all the wood being cleared; but when a few plantations are made to ornament it, it will look very pretty.”

For the aspiring young gentlemen who made the journey across the Atlantic, the challenges that they had to overcome and the ‘wild’ lives that they would live were all part of the fun. They were young, single and had labourers to help them through the worst of it. For the ordinary families who emigrated, it might be a different experience entirely. Elizabeth and Robert Robertson sailed from Greenock, Scotland in 1833 with their three children. When they arrived at Quebec, they were detained for 4 weeks because of smallpox. By the time they had been to Toronto to purchase land, and made the journey to the backwoods it was Halloween. When they arrived at what would become their new home, they tried to make a fire at the base of a pine tree to keep warm overnight. “The first firewood was basswood and they might as well have tried to burn stones.” The first meal that they shared was fried pork and tea. By morning there was ankle deep snow, and they had just poor bran flour, salt and soda with them. Their Michi Saagiig neighbours saw their plight, gave them venison and accommodated them in their wigwams until the Robertsons could build a home. But by Christmas, their youngest son, John, had died. The family would not soon forget the ordeal of their migration.

Everyone who made the journey across the Atlantic had their own story to tell about what it was like to arrive in ‘the backwoods.’ The stories reflected the perspectives of those making the journey as much as they did the realities of life in this region. Practically all of the adventurous young gentlemen moved on to a new life—most not long after beginning their estates in the Americas. The Langtons lasted longer than most, but retreated to Peterborough after malaria (then called ague… spread by the incessantly biting mosquitoes, though this was not realized at the time) claimed their mother Ellen and aunt Alice (father Thomas had passed away the spring after emigrating). It often was the ordinary families, who did not have the advantages of labourers to help and had typically invested much of their worth in crossing the Atlantic, who persevered and found a way to make a living in the Kawartha Lakes region.