Bruce County Memories: Local hospitality – potatoes to the rescue

The tradition of helping a neighbour started early in Bruce County.

Our pioneer ancestors had no more than a humble log shanty but would throw open the door for any traveller and share their meagre fare, be it only a lowly potato.

The depth of this generosity was often noted by Norman Robertson, in his “History of the County of Bruce,” published by the Bruce County Historical Society.

Before Bruce Township lots went on sale in 1854, a large number of settlers had squatted on lands in various parts of the township.

The land-seekers had streamed in but since in those days there were no roads, they had to walk through the woods following the line of a surveyor’s blaze from tree to tree.

Travelling in the backwoods meant sleeping in the bush, and surviving on whatever food they could carry, perhaps a supply of cheese and crackers for a lunch by the side of some clear creek or spring.

The newcomer would soon discover that the settlers were hospitable in the highest degree, and readily shared their humble meal with the traveller when he happened to come along at meal-time. The quality of the potatoes was always good, the salt excellent, and there was always bread and tea to be had, but fresh meat was a rarity for several years.

You can judge just how open-handed this hospitality was by the following incidents.

In May, 1851, Michael Green took up Lot “J” on the second concession of Bruce Township. Green tells of 13 men who came to his shanty one evening asking for something to eat and a night’s lodging. Fortunately for his guests, that day he had brought home a half-barrel of fresh fish. For their evening meal, he cooked a pot of fish and two large pots of potatoes.

After they had eaten to their heart’s content, one old gentleman of their number placed a $1 bill on the table, telling the rest to do likewise, resulting in 13 $1 bills being placed on the table.

Three weeks later, the old gentleman returned, accompanied by another gentleman, and asked for a night’s lodging. Green told them they could get that on one condition, namely that they would not insist on him taking any remuneration for their keep. Of course, they complied.

Before leaving in the morning, the old gentleman asked his host if he would be kind enough to fetch them a fresh drink of water from the spring nearby. He went, but not with the best of grace, thinking they might do this act themselves. They met him outside on his return, and, thanking him for his hospitality, took their departure. On entering his shanty Green noticed a cup turned face downward, and on lifting it found two shining half-dollars; it then dawned upon him why he had been sent for the water.



You’re welcome to join us for potatoes; photo courtesy of the St. Edmunds Museum

Elsewhere, about the same time, six men seeking land came to a shanty and asked the good lady of the house if they could get anything to eat. She told them to step in and they could have the best in the house.

She cooked a large pot of potatoes, but having no table and few dishes, she pulled a large empty box to the middle of the floor, emptied the contents of the potato pot on the centre of it, placed a pinch of salt before each man, and explained that she had no bread or meat, or any other food but potatoes and salt to live on, her husband and sons being away earning money to pay for the first instalment on their lot.

After completing their homely fare they departed, and that evening came to a small clearing where they found potatoes planted. They made a fire and cooked some of the potatoes under the ashes, at the same time wishing they had some of the salt the good lady had given them for breakfast.

Lest you think that spud-snatching was acceptable, read on.

In 1851, government contractors were logging the road allowance at the western end of the Durham Road. Working far inland made it hard to get needed supplies, so the crew of wood choppers had to make do with whatever was handy, say, for example, the contents of a field of potatoes, and so the vegetable heist began.

Norman Robertson tells us how justice was served in the case of the purloined potatoes.

“It is related regarding one of the contractor's camps, situated near a small clearing planted with potatoes, but left by the owner to take care of itself during his absence at the settlements, that on his return, instead of finding his expected winter's supply of potatoes ready to be gathered, found instead his field stripped. The necessities of the men in camp having led them to appropriate and consume his total crop, for which lawless action amends were made by paying the settler a fair price for what had been taken.”



Planting potatoes on the Bruce Peninsula; photo courtesy of the St. Edmunds Museum