Glimpse Into the Writing of Shadow Song
Published: August 1, 2008
Dimensions: 216 Pages, 6 x 9
ISBN: 9780973927818
The story of the tragedy in Hornings Mills is based upon a true account. In 1830, Lewis Horning, a hardy 60 year old Pennsylvania Dutchman left his prosperous holdings in the Hamilton/Ancaster area of Upper Canada to pursue a dream in the Queen’s Bush. Horning, with the assistance of Henry Bates, William Silk, the Vanmear family and ten others, was to establish a settlement far from the active trading centers to the south. The land was rich, peopled by the Ojibwa and Chippewa who called themselves the Anishnabeg. To the north hardwood forest grew. Eastward flowed the Pine River and the valley that had been carved by glaciers, while to the south there were numerous small lakes ideal for mill ponds. In the west were vast beaver meadows, swales and cedar swamps, the latter two the result of poor drainage caused by the Niagara Escarpment. It was here, in the west, that the infamous Melancthon Swamps lay, swamps that were ancient, slow, moving in ways that were to shape the future of Horning’s dream.
So it was that by 1831, despite age and hardships, this hardy group had built grist and saw mills. Indeed it seemed the village would prosper. News of Horning’s success reached Hamilton and Ancaster, and the entire project lauded.
And then the summer of 1832 happened. Relatives of Horning had come to assist with the raising of buildings, and, perhaps preoccupied with this, and a cow that was to calf, Lewis Horning turned away two natives who had come to the mill to trade venison for flour.
Shortly after it became apparent the cow had wandered, he suspected into Melancthon Swamp. A conversation between Horning and his hired man was overheard by Jane, Susan and Oliver Vanmear, ages sixteen, fourteen and nine, as well as Lewis Horning Jr., also aged nine. It seemed the entrepreneur offered his man a dollar if he would search for the missing cow.
The children, seized with the idea of earning the dollar for themselves, set off to the west. They disappeared. The other Horning brothers – Peter and Robert – searched while the adults were still involved in building. They found a native trail that led directly into the heart of Melancthon Swamp, apparently where the four children had gone.
The alarm went out. For days the village people scoured the countryside. Nothing of the children or the cow was ever found. The Anishnabeg, of course, were blamed.
Six years later, disheartened, Lewis Horning packed up what remained of his family and returned to Ancaster. The other families soon followed, and the village of Hornings Mills quietly slipped back into the Queen’s Bush. There were to be other adventurers, men bent on stripping the land and shaping it for their own good, so that the village was not to disappear altogether. But, always, that day hung in the background.
Only Oliver Vanmear was to ever surface, found in the Marigold Tavern in Oakville many years later, still simple-minded and erratic. His story was that all four children had been taken captive by the Ojibwa, the girls married off, Lewis Horning Jr. rumoured to be a strong hunter. Was his story true? To this day no one knows. Perhaps he told people what they wanted to hear. Perhaps he told the truth.
The Baltic, which Danielle takes from England to Quebec is real, as is her commander, Earbage. Conditions aboard ship, the outbreak of cholera at Quebec and the opening of Grosse Isle as an immigration point are all lifted from historical documents, although I have played with the actual timing and dates to suit my purposes. Fares, ferries and stages are based upon real costs, ships and companies, as are the details of Midewewin and Ojibwa society based upon historical records and books of the era.
Captain Anderson, Superintendent of Indian Affairs, Reverend Adam Elliot and the teacher Mr. Orr were all present on Manitoulin Island around the time of the novel.
Trading posts mentioned throughout the novel are all based upon historical accounts of Hudson Bay posts.
I found the name of Fleming in a graveyard near to Hornings Mills, and purloined it for the purpose of giving Danielle some historical background, albeit fictional. Shadow Song sprang directly from imagination, although for me he became incarnate and dogged my days for a full year while setting down the first draft of this novel.
The Anishnabeg language references I have taken from an original copy of an English/Ojibwa dictionary from the 19th century. It, among other rare books, came into my possession through the kindness of a bookseller, Darwin, in Toronto, now long dead from an AIDS related illness; Darwin had one of the largest collections of native books in North America. I am forever indebted to his love of the native peoples and his passion for collecting knowledge for them.
I would be remiss in my acknowledgements if I failed to recognize the support and effort offered me by Kelly Stephens, my daughter, and Grant Hallman, fellow scribbler, both of whom were indefatigable in their proof-reading and comments of the novel.