The rise and fall of an Ontario gold camp

Canada’s Forgotten Gold Rush: The Goldfields of Larder Lake

By Vernon Dufresne and

Clark Thompson

(For price and availability, contact the authors at crtja@ntl.sympatico.ca)

Canada’s heritage as a mineral producer is as important in terms of expansion and settlement as it is in terms of ounces and dollars, and the fortunes of small mining towns are inextricably tied to those of the mines in whose shadow they exist. The recent closing of the Macassa mine by Kinross Gold marked the end of an era for one such town.

The history of Larder Lake district is not unlike that of other camps in Canada: a vein is found and eager trailblazers (and more than a few cads) flock to the hinterlands to stake ground; mines spring up in fits and starts, and houses are built for workers; money is invested in spinoff businesses; and upstart municipalities build roads and sewers to serve newly middle-class townsfolk. Everyone prospers. In Canada’s Forgotten Gold Rush, authors Vernon Dufresne and Clark Thompson offer a nuts-and-bolts account of the rise and decline of Larder Lake and its mines, from the first discovery of gold at the turn of the century to the closure of the prolific Kerr mine in 1982.

The first few chapters draw on reprints of articles culled from The Toronto World, The New Liskeard Speaker, and The Mail and Empire, as well as Canadian Mining Journal, to trace the discovery and subsequent influx of prospectors into the region. Dufresne and Thompson, both of whom live in Larder Lake, run the risk of relying too heavily on these reprints in the first several chapters. However, in later chapters, they carefully fill in the blanks left by official journals and records of the day. The book reads like a scrapbook, a format supported by the authors’ folksy and informal prose style.

They provide a lean chronicle of the town after about 1945, but delve deeply into the history of the region before it was settled. Their story stretches back to 1875, when the chief of the Temagami Ojibwa staked the first claims in the area (and later lost them in a claims dispute).

The building of the first roads and rail lines, over which were hauled lake-going boats and heavy equipment, is recounted in detail, as is the development of amenities that transformed Larder Lake from a disorderly collection of tents and shacks into a modest and modern town.

No book about the history of a mining camp would be complete without referring to the companies that worked the mines. The authors do a fine job of piecing together from newspaper accounts, court documents and company literature the involvement of dentist-cum-promoter George Mackay, who was president of several companies in the area. Mackay is credited with turning Larder Lake into a producing gold camp by acquiring (sometimes through questionable practices) and consolidating much of the prospective land in the area.

The authors also give thumbnail accounts of Kerr Addison Gold Mines, Larder Lake Proprietary Mines, Arjon Mines, Sheldon Larder Mines, Armistice Gold Mine, Aurelian Developments, Amalgamated Larder Mines, Canadian Associated Goldfields, Omega Gold Mines and Consolidated Crown Reserve Mines.

The book does not get bogged down in technical detail but instead focuses on the people that helped build Larder Lake (and who were sometimes run out of it). Like any good story, this one has its share of villains and shady characters. Anecdotes about schemes and scams foisted on investors by con men and dubious promoters soon after the 1907 staking rush provide some of the book’s best bits. For all the progress of the past century, mining has always been the playground of scoundrels. One such cad was Luther Westley Spear (or Honest Uncle Luther as he would become known to victims and police), who formed dubious companies and published his own newsletters to promote them. Another was Frank Law, who got five years in 1909 for bilking investors out of $300,000 through his Blue Bell scam.

The book also features an extensive collection of archival photographs (some of which were supplied by The Northern Miner) depicting the life and work of Larder Lake residents. However, large though the collection is, the photos, sadly, are too small, appearing in the margins at a fraction of their original size.

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