SKETCH CI
“NED” FOSTER AND HIS DOG “GUNNER”—FOSTER FAMILY
Prominent among the old families of Walsingham are the Fosters. In every quality essential to the development of a virtuous and prosperous community of home-dwellers and home-owners, the Fosters are not excelled by any of our old families; and, like some of the other old families, are fondly attached to the home neighborhood. Almost within sight of the very spot where the ancestral log-cabin stood are several Foster homes, noted for their refining influences and hearty hospitality. In this contiguity in the work of home-building, the Fosters evince a love for the environment of home and an affection for each other—two highly-commendable family characteristics.
It was during the first year of the present dying century that Elias and Mary Foster set up their pioneer home in the wilds of Walsingham. It was the first cabin erected west of Big Creek, and was located near the marsh on the front of Lot 5, about two miles west of Port Royal. They came to Long Point in 1800, but remained the first season near Port Rowan.[1] After Mr. Foster located his land, he went up with his two sons, who were quite young lads, and cleared a small plot of ground and erected a cabin.[2] Leaving the boys with a cow and a small quantity of corn, he returned for the remainder of his family and household effects. Adverse circumstances prevented his returning for several days, and during this time Edward and Daniel B. Foster had such an experience of pioneer life that fell to the lot of but few boys in the early settlement of Long Point country. They were mere children, alone in a dense forest, and with cows’ milk and a little Indian corn as their only source of supply. The corn was crushed with an axe on a hard-wood stump, and the crushed grain soaked with milk and eaten. They were brave little fellows, and it is no wonder that Edward, the elder, who was but nine years old at the time, became a famous hunter and a terror to the wild beasts of Walsingham when he grew into manhood.
The American grandancestor of the Foster family was a native of Amsterdam, Holland; and it is said the property which he owned in that city, and which he sold at a mere nominal sum when he came to America, has become very valuable owing to changes brought about in the improvement of the old city.
The Fosters settled in Long Island, and when the colonies threw off their allegiance to the British Crown, Elias Foster was a young man. His sympathies being on the side of the King, he left the Island and migrated to New Brunswick, settling at a place about nine miles from Fredericton. He was twice married, but whether he married his first wife before leaving Long Island does not appear. He was left a widower in New Brunswick with a number of children, and he married his second wife in that province. One daughter by his first wife married David Millard, and settled near St. Catherines, but aside from this the Norfolk Fosters know but little about the first wife’s children.[3]
In 1800 Mr. Foster came with his second family to Long Point settlement, consisting of two sons—Edward and David B.; and two daughters—Lucy and Harriet. The eldest was about eight years old, and, it is said, all were born in New Brunswick. On the 25th day of June, 1803, the old pioneer took the oath of a Justice of the Peace and occupied a seat on the judicial bench at that term in the old London District Court of Quarter Sessions, and in the following March he was appointed Justice of the Court of Requests for the Township of Walsingham. The old foundation-builder died in about 1833, having reached a good age.[4]
Edward Foster, elder son of Elias by his second wife, was born in 1792, in the New Brunswick home. His boyhood days were spent in the wilds of Walsingham before the war of 1812 became an historical fact. He was resolute and fearless, and possessed an irony constitution. In all his varied experiences of bush life there was but one occasion when every hair on his head stood straight up on end, and that was when he came in contact with the only pure white bear ever seen in the forests of Norfolk.
In the early years of the settlement the marshy meadowlands at the mouth of Clear Creek were utilized by the settlers as a common pasture ground for their cattle. The grass grew luxuriantly, and where it was not mowed the cattle were able to pick their living to a greater or less extent during the winter season. It was the custom for some young member of the family to look after the cattle, and when Edward met with his hair-lifting experience he was about sixteen years old and thus engaged. While returning from the marsh one day he came upon the prostrate trunk of an immense hollow tree. The ground was covered with snow, which was well packed all about the large opening in the tree, and he noticed a number of rabbit tracks in the snow, and concluded that the hollow tree contained a rabbit’s nest. A short distance above was a smaller hole, and placing his dog at this opening to head off escape, he crawled into the hollow tree through the larger opening, and proceeded in search of the rabbits. As he crept along he came to a large recess in the hollow, when he was startled by the snapping of a massive pair of jaws and the glittering of two beastly eyeballs. There was a dim light in the passage, and in an instant the awful truth flashed upon his mind that he was in a bear’s den. He felt the bear’s hot breath on his bare head, and he thought—well, what would a boy think placed in such a predicament? Strange to say the bear did not attack him, and he lost no time in making his exit; and when he did so he blockaded the entrance with pieces of timber, and went home and reported his experience. The story was not credited, as such a thing as a white bear in Norfolk had never been heard of. But in the early morning following young Foster conducted two or three neighbors to the place, and after a short but vigorous attack the bear, which proved to be pure white and of massive proportions, was driven from his citadel and killed. At this time ammunition was very scarce in the Walsingham woods, and when young Foster was caught in close quarters his tomahawk and faithful dog were his principal means of defence. What an interesting volume of thrilling anecdotes it would make for the boys of Norfolk to-day, if young Ned Foster’s adventures in the swamps and forests of south Walsingham had all been carefully written down. His remarkable intrepidity in the moment of peril not only helped him out of inevitable difficulties, but it got him into many a close corner that a less courageous youth would have avoided. Bruin had no terrors for Ned Foster. He delighted in teasing a she bear by playing with her cubs, trusting to his faithful dog “Gunner” and his own nerve for safety. Although bears were very common it was an amusement fraught with danger, and on more that [sic] one occasion the brave young pioneer came near losing his life.
When the war of 1812 broke out, Edward was about twenty years old. He enlisted and served in the Commissariat Department; and when the surviving veterans were enrolled on the pension lists of 1876-77, he was one of the bounty recipients. Three years after the war closed he married Lury Hoy, and settled on the homestead. From the close of the war to the middle of the century, Ned Foster was one of the busiest and best known men in the township of Walsingham. The old homestead is one of the best farms in the county, and Mr. Foster and his boys brought it to a high state of cultivation and material worth. In the days when “Ned” Foster was a terror to wild cats, a rat-skin was a “coin of the realm.” Its value fluctuated between two and three York shillings, and possessed an intrinsic value at all times, which made it a medium of exchange in business transactions. A rat-skin was sound money equalling, at least, an English shilling in value, and the marsh in front of the Foster home was literally alive with rats. In other words, adjoining the Foster homestead was a prolific mine of English shillings, and all one had to do was to go in, pick them up, and possess them. Mr. Foster kept fifty or sixty rat-traps, and it is said he caught as many as 1,700 in a single year. He was an expert trapper, succeeding where others failed. He could hold his breath while skinning a rat, and could average sixty an hour. He was no less an expert in the use of the rifle. The Foster larder was at all times abundantly supplied with venison, and wild game of all kinds. He believed that enough was as good as a feast, and yet he sometimes shot two deer before breakfast. After settlement along the front was well advanced, he built a hunting shanty on Deer Creek, on the 11th concession, where he would camp for several days at a time. One night he and a neighbor, who was hunting with him, lost their bearing in the woods, and after wandering some time they came upon an Indian hut in charge of a lone squaw, and they resolved to remain there until morning. The squaw was in a sulky mood and unable to understand a word of English. Late in the evening the noble red man of the house returned with a fine young fawn. He, too, was sulky and unable to understand English; and while his squaw was trying to explain matters in Indian, he eyed his unwelcome guests with distrustful and vindictive glances. Finally the squaw removed her dusky lord’s moccasins and washed his feet, after which she prepared and cooked the tender venison, serving “the man of the house” first, and with the choicest cuts. The guests were served in a manner, however, and remained in the shanty until morning. But Mr. Foster was not always fortunate enough to find a sulky Indian’s shanty to sleep in. Many a night he lay upon the ground in the Walsingham woods, guarded by his faithful dog “Gunner.” The densely wooded hollows and ravines north of the homestead were infested with wild cats and wolverines; and one year Mr. Foster kept a record of the number of wild cats he killed, but when the number reached sixty he gave up the count. It is said that more than a hundred bears were killed by him, and that the old rifle still retains its reputation as a dead shot in the hands of a good marksman. Mr. Foster used to tell an amusing story of a bear that tried to carry off two of his hogs. The swine had made a nest under a bridge, and one day a big bear made a raid on them. The squealing of the hogs attracted Mr. Foster’s attention, and taking down his rifle he went over to ascertain the cause. The bear was trying to get away with a hog in each arm, but he could not accomplish the task. The hogs were good-sized ones, and every time bruin attempted to pick up his second victim the first would slip out of his arms. It was both amusing and instructive as an object lesson, being a clear demonstration of the fact that a bear cannot concentrate his mind on more than one object at a time. After enjoying the fun for some time, Mr. Foster added one more notch to his bear-killing record.
Mr. Foster possessed a fine physique and a robust constitution. He enjoyed a good degree of health, and was endowed with more than the ordinary measure of strength and nerve, as will be shown by mentioning a hunting incident that occurred in his fighting days. He was returning home through the woods after one of his hunting expeditions, with two hind-quarters of venison suspended from the barrel of his rifle, which was thrown over is shoulder. Suddenly a deer bounded up very close to him, and in an instant the rifle dropped from his shoulder and an off-hand shot did its work just as effectively as would have been the case had the weapon not been freighted with the two quarters of venison.
Mr. Foster took a prominent part in the municipal affairs of his township, leaving a public record behind him that any man might be reasonably excused for envying. He lived to see the bears totally exterminated in Walsingham—the last one having been killed about twelve years previous to his death, which occurred in 1878, in his 86th year. His wife survived him six years, and died, also in her 86th year. Eight of her nine children grew up and married, all of whom were at her bedside when she passed away. There were six sons in the family—James, Edward, Isaac, Henry, Elias and Nelson; and three daughters—Emily J., Elizabeth and Matilda. Excepting the eldest and youngest, all married, and settled in the home neighborhood—Nelson succeeding to the old homestead.[5]
Daniel B. Foster, younger son of Elias, married Elizabeth Beaman, and settled on the homestead. He lived to a good age, comparatively, and died in 1870, leaving no children.
Lucy Foster, elder daughter of Elias, married Henry Baumwart. Her family is noted in the genealogy of the Baumwart family.[6]
Harriet Foster, younger daughter of Elias, the old pioneer, married John Soper, and settled in Bayham, where she raised a family.
[1] Elias Foster arrived at Walsingham Township in 1800 and filed a land petition on December 23, 1800 requesting a Crown Lease on Lot 20, Concession 2, Walsingham Township (Upper Canada Land Petition “F”, Bundle 5, Doc. No. 4). That lot was found not to be a Crown Lease and so not could not be granted as such. Elias located his grant in Lot 5, Front Concession of Walsingham Township, his patent dated May 17, 1802 was recorded in the Abstracts of Deeds Register of the township so he may not have settled there until 1802.
[2] In 1802, Elias’ son Edward was ten years old and Daniel aged about 8, calculated from their gravestones in Port Royal Cemetery, Walsingham Township.
[3] In colonial times, Elias lived in New Jersey. During the American Revolution, he went to Staten Island, New York and served in the Loyal Rangers. In 1779, Elias was taken prisoner and confined in Somerset jail for three months and three weeks until rescued by Colonel John Graves Simcoe. Foster then continued at Staten Island until 1783. (Source: Upper Canada Land Petition “F” Bundle 5, Doc. No. 14). Elias was married to a first wife before Mary. In the exodus of New York to New Brunswick, Elias sailed in the “Springfleet” and was listed with a wife, two children aged over ten years and three aged under ten. This first family does not seem to have come with him to Norfolk. (Source: D. G. Bell, Early Loyalist Saint John, p. 201)
[4] Elias Foster’s will dated at Walsingham Township on January 31, 1827 (probated March 22, 1831), named his children Edward, Daniel B., Samuel, Susan Harriot Soper and Ann Baumwart. The probate papers show his date of death as March 22, 1831 (London District Surrogate Registry, Doc. No. 195). It is noted that Owen refers to a David B. Foster in the early pages of this sketch then later changes this to Daniel B. The name Daniel is the correct one, found in Elias’ will, the 1852 Census of Walsingham Township and Port Royal Cemetery.
[5] Edward Foster’s oldest child James married on November 20, 1839, Eleanor Jackson, the marriage recorded in the Talbot District Marriage Register. The couple lived in Walsingham Township. James died a young man on January 8, 1850 and was buried in Port Royal Cemetery. The youngest child, Lucy Matilda Foster married on April 12, 1861, John Marr, recorded in the Norfolk County Marriage Register.
[6] This daughter of Elias Foster was named Ann in his will. In the Baumwart Sketch, Owen refers to her as Nancy.