Hidden Ontario (27 page)

Professor J.C.B Grant, of the Department of Anthropology, University of Toronto, was asked for his opinion. He stated: “The skeleton was of a male, strong, height 5'8” plus or minus 2”, age in late 20s and of Mongolian type, either Indian or nearly full-breed Indian.”

Further studies were made of the skull, including x-rays. According to Judge Little, “X-ray of the skull before emptying out the sand showed no bullet in the skull and none found in the sand after emptying. The hole in the left temple region is nearly three-quarters of an inch [less than two centimetres] in diameter. The inner plate opening is slightly wider showing a slight bevelling. No radiating fractures were seen in X-ray. There was no injury on the inner table of the skull opposite the hole where a bullet would impinge. The orbital plate and nasal bones were so intact that no bullet could have escaped from the skull.” Therefore, the hole in the temple was not the result of a bullet wound.

The skull removed from Thomson's grave indicates a hole at the temple, coinciding with the injury sustained by the artist.

Courtesy of Jane Loftus

Professor Eric Linnel of the Department of Neuropathology concluded, “The wound, however, though definitely not due to a bullet, could be caused by a sharp instrument such as a pick, a narrow hammer head.” (Maybe a paddle?)

Judge Little responded to the investigation: “The foot of the grave in which the bones were found was 21 feet [seven metres] due north of the corner of the fence surrounding the two marked graves. This is, certainly, approximately where Mr. Thomson was buried originally. There is nothing to prove that the opened grave is not the same as Mr. Thomson's, and the coffin is just as his was said to be.”

Why so much conflicting information? Did this group of men really dig up the remains of Tom Thomson? There should have been no body at all!

Jane Loftus, the daughter of the late Judge Little, states, “My father always believed the body they found in Canoe Lake Cemetery was that of Tom Thomson.”

In 1935 Miss Blodwen Davies, an official of the Saskatchewan Art Board, published a biography of Tom Thomson. It was while doing the research for the book that she investigated his death. She concluded: “I came away from my investigation with the conviction there had been foul play. I tried to get the Ontario Government to open an investigation, but they said it had all happened so long ago, it was best to leave it alone.”

Miss Davies spent the rest of her life pursuing the mystery. She once wrote, concerning the testimony at the inquest: “No one remarked that only a living body could be bruised or bleed, or that Thomson's lungs were filled with air, not with water.”

A questionnaire she used with Mark Robinson is reprinted courtesy of the Archives of Canada, Ottawa:

Question: How deep was the water in which Thomson was found?

Answer: About 30 feet [10 metres].

Question: How far was it from shore?

Answer: 125 yards [120 metres].

Question: Was his fishing rod and line found?

Answer: No.

Question: Do you think it was his own line which was wound around his ankle?

Answer: It might have been his own line but not his regular fishing line.

Question: Did you see a mark on his forehead and if so, what was it like?

Answer: A slight bruise over the eyebrow.

Question: Did the Bletchers aid in the search for Thomson?

Answer: They did on the lake. They did not search in the woods, as far as I know.

Question: Did they make any attempt to direct the search?

Answer: No. They were very quiet in every way.

Little added, “Who was it that struck him a blow across the temple — and was it done with edge of a paddle blade? — that sent the blood spurting from his ear?”

So many of Thomson's friends were puzzled over his death. Many did not believe that he had drowned. Miss Davies added, “Why did Thomson's body take eight days to rise in a shallow lake in the middle of July? Bodies that have been in warm summer waters usually rise after a couple of days, due to bloating. Could the fishing line bound round the lower left leg have been tied to some weighty object such as a stone?

As Little noted, “If Tom struck his head on rocks after death, how could the body bleed? Bodies do not bruise or bleed after death. This man was not accident prone; he was a canoeist of exceptional skill. The weather and water conditions were calm. It is difficult to believe he just fell out of his canoe and received a severe wound to his head.”

In a letter Miss Margaret Howland wrote to Judge Little on May 2, 1969, she stated, “My father, the late Dr. Howland, in subsequent discussion mentioned the fact that there was a possibility that the drowning of Tom Thomson was not accidental.”

Tom Thomson has never left Canoe Lake. Speculation says that he was murdered and he was in love. Just ask Mrs. Northway and Canadian artist, Lawren Harris, who resided in the park in the summer of 1931. They believe he appeared on the waters that year.

Judge Little recorded their experience: “It had been a happy day and ever so lazy. At dusk we were coming home, tired, rested, and at peace with the world. It was a tremendously still evening, you could hear the silence against your ear. The hills made strange, statuesque figures against the haunting orange of the western sky, while the first star set its light akindle, as an alter lamp of the universe against the canopy of the after glow. Even my guide's tales ceased, and through my mind drifted, fragments of harmonies as if heard from a far way ‘cello.' Suddenly the voice of my guide shattered the silence. ‘They're coming out to meet us from the portage.'

“And turning toward the sunset I saw a man kneeling in a canoe that slowly came towards us. ‘So they are,' I answered. ‘I guess we are pretty late.'

“My guide turned from his course in order that we might better meet our herald, now a little less than 100 yards[90 metres] away. I raised my voice and called, and waved my hand, while my guide kept paddling toward the camper. But there was no response, for even as we looked, the canoe and its paddler, without warning or sound, vanished into nothingness, and on the undisturbed lake were only our lonely selves and the shrieking of a loon.”

Miss Northway added some observations her mother had left out of the story: “As my mother was coming into the bay by the portage, she saw a canoe and a paddler in a yellow shirt. ‘They're coming out from the portage to meet us,' said the guide. The man waved and the guide waved back. Then the paddler, canoe and all, completely vanished.

“My father and Mr. Taylor Statten, being practical people, on hearing the tale, insisted it had been a mirage, but Lawren Harris was sure it was the spirit of Tom Thomson. His rationale was that those who depart before their time continue to haunt the lands they loved.

“My mother was inclined to accept Lawren's interpretation, much to my father's disgust. A point that was much discussed, but never settled, what colour of shirt was Tom wearing when he was drowned?”

For years people have reported seeing a phantom canoeist travelling the waters of Algonquin Park. One moment you see a man paddling a canoe across the way and in the next, he vanishes. Many eyewitness accounts refer to the canoeist as Tom Thomson. One witness to such an event was drawn to paint the experience.

Doug Dunford is a professional artist, best known for his ability to capture the symbols of Muskoka life in high-realist style. He lives in the Muskokas.

Early in his career he was given one of A.Y. Jackson's easels and old chairs. These were his first connections to the Group of Seven painters, but others followed.

In the summer of 1980, Doug found himself painting a new sign for Algonquin Park. For two weeks he immersed himself in the natural beauty of the park.

One evening a social gathering took place at a cottage on Canoe Lake. Doug recalled: “The next morning I decided to go down to the dock. A thick mist was enshrouding Canoe Lake. I just stood on the dock with my camera hanging around my neck, looking. Then I heard this trickling sound like a paddle in the water. Suddenly a person in a canoe emerged from the mist. We made eye contact, and then he turned and vanished. For some unknown reason I took his picture just before he turned and disappeared, as abruptly and mystically as he had appeared.

“In that moment I sensed a strange energy. It took me off guard. I have felt that strange feeling before. I don't know why I took the picture and began to second-guess the experience. Had it really happened? Would there be anything on the photograph? I didn't understand why this person had turned so abruptly. Why was someone out on the lake in such fog? Why had he disappeared? I got this strange feeling. Maybe in my own consciousness I made a connection. I do know that I can only connect from my own experience. I knew it was Tom Thomson. I was shocked when the film was developed. There was my phantom canoeist.

“I was drawn to paint the photograph. A good painting depicts what you have experienced. This photograph was a memory of the moment. The painting chooses you. It is always there. It never leaves. One day something triggers it. Within six months after the experience, I painted it. Then I painted over it. I wasn't ready. It didn't feel right.

“When I told people the story they agreed that it indeed could be Tom Thomson. Six or seven years later I did a small watercolour of that dramatic experience on Canoe Lake.

“Then one day, during a show in my gallery, a young man walked in. He was going to school out west. This piece of work, entitled
The Return of Tom Thomson,
was hanging in the show. The man purchased it. About a year later, he wrote to me to say that he bought the painting because he had seen the same man, in the same canoe, in the park. He had felt it had been a ghost himself. He was amazed to see it hanging in my gallery.”

Few pictures exist of Winnie Trainor. Even her home in Huntsville was torn down shortly after her death. Winnie is seen here on the left.

Courtesy of Jane Loftus

On the anniversary of Tom Thomson's death, a few people gather on the shore of Canoe Lake to see if he will appear. There is no question, for those who have seen him, that it is Tom.

As for Winnie Trainor, she never married, and she lived in Huntsville until her death. Jane Loftus pointed out that Miss Trainor would often travel to Canoe Lake and place flowers on the grave of Tom Thomson. Perhaps she never married because she knew he was still there with her. If she saw him and communicated with him, she kept it to herself.

Playwright Stina Nyquist, in her Tom Thomson play,
The Shantyman's Daughter
, had Miss Trainor say this about herself: “I'm a slob. I've been one since that summer a long time ago. I let my hair go. I have soup stains on my blouse, my stockings are rumpled, and so on and so forth. It's not that I'm a slob at heart. I'm not a natural-born slob. I just got that way, bit by bit, since that summer. But once every year, on this day, I dress up. I go to the beauty parlour, I put on this outfit, and this hat — if it's not too windy. I got this dress for a special occasion that didn't happen ...”

Gaye Clemson, born and raised in Toronto, now resides in Monterey Bay, California. In the early 1950s her father decided to make Algonquin Park a part of his life and purchased a lease on Canoe Lake. In 1954, her father and mother built a cabin on the leased land.

In the May 2006 issue of
The Muskoka Magazine
, journalist Meaghan Deemeester wrote an article entitled “Canoe Lake, Highlighting Clemson and the Thomson Mystery.”

“Thomson, who was an avid and accomplished canoeist, died on the lake in July, 1917. His body was found several days after his upturned canoe was spotted floating on the lake, and despite a four-inch cut/bruise on his left temple, and fishing line tied around his ankle, the authorities quickly deemed his death an accidental drowning.

“However, the residents of Canoe Lake feel differently, believing in most cases that foul play was involved. In fact, in the late 1970s, Clemson's brother found the remains of a paddle stuck in the mud. She says, ‘After washing and careful examination of its weather-worn condition and the fact that there was a “cut” out of the blade that looked like it was an exact match to an adult male's temple, he ascertained that it was in fact Tom's long-lost paddle and by inference the long-lost murder weapon. It hangs to this day, from our cabin ceiling.”