Part 3 of 3

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Toward the Present 

By the time European – this time English – settlement of Niagara began in earnest in the late 1700s, the area had been devoid of “permanent” settlements for about a century. That is, of course, not to say that people were not living here. The Haudenosaunee made good on their plans to use the area for hunting grounds and set up several villages around the Golden Horseshoe. But once the conquest was complete and the Beaver Wars had ended, they were nudged back across the Niagara River, with relative ease, by the Anishinaabe. The Anishinaabe, as noted earlier, moved seasonally, and did not construct sophisticated palisaded towns. The European cultural understanding of property rights is based on the idea of permanence, land engineering, and, above all, fences and walls. If none of these are present, then, to the Europeans, the land must be unclaimed. 

United Empire Loyalists began settling on the west side of the Niagara River following the American Revolutionary War and the British government hastily signed a treaty with the Anishinaabe Mississaugas in 1781 to avoid any potential disputes. This and subsequent land treaties were likely understood differently by the Mississaugas who had no concept of permanent land ownership; a cultural mistranslation that was all too convenient for the British who were busy setting up their new colonial capital in Niagara-on-the-Lake. Shipman’s Corners came about 15 years later, and William Hamilton Merritt’s various endeavours 15 years after that. 

One piece of Indigenous history that has remained at centre stage through all of this “progress” is St. Paul Street. Yes, the main street of downtown St. Catharines, site of a seemingly endless number of historical businesses, industries, parades, as well as the route of the original Welland Canal, follows the path of an ancient Indigenous trail. Known as the Iroquois Trail, this route mirrored the aforementioned Mohawk Trail on the escarpment, and has been used to travel from Albany to Detroit and everywhere in between for perhaps millennia. These and other ancient highways around Ontario showcase an approach to infrastructure that works in harmony with and takes advantage of natural features rather than re-engineering them to fit a grid. I encourage readers to soak in this fact and remember the Indigenous Peoples of this land the next time they take a stroll down the natural curve of St. Paul Street to hit an Ice Dogs game, catch a concert, or get in some boutique shopping. 

Since the demise of the Neutral Nation, the place we call St. Catharines has been in a constant state of infrastructural and cultural evolution. I encourage readers, as a final consideration, to reflect on this city’s long-held identity as a welcoming place for the downtrodden, refugees, and minorities, where they have been able to start anew by working toward the common goal of a prosperous St. Catharines. All four Welland Canals were built by workforces largely made up of labourers from faraway places like Ireland, Scotland, Italy, and Eastern Europe. These men came to St. Catharines, often from situations of destitution, because they believed it was a place where they could build good lives for their families. In the mid-19^th century, St. Catharines was also a “last stop” on the Underground Railroad, where Freedom Seekers came in the hopes of finally finding independence, safety, and acceptance. 20^th-century St. Catharines’ booming agricultural and industrial sectors continued to attract emigrants from war-torn places like Germany, Slovenia, and Poland, and the city has more recently welcomed refugees from Syria and the Ukraine. The people of St. Catharines are rightfully proud to have built a place that has been such a beacon of hope, support, and tolerance, and a true home for so many, no matter what or where their starting point was. But any home, no matter how beautiful, is only as strong its foundations.  

In the case of St. Catharines these foundations were, sadly, built on deceptive and destructive relationships with the Neutrals and other peoples whose traditional territories we continue to live on. In the 21^st century, it is understandable to feel removed from and helpless against events that happened centuries ago. But we inherit the foundations along with the house, and it is our duty to make repairs and be caring if we want the house to stay standing. Before we make repairs, however, we first must learn what the foundation is made of, where the cracks are, and where are its strengths.  

Listening is the first step.  

Sean Dineley is a Public Programmer at the St. Catharines Museum and Welland Canals Centre.