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First organized as the Belvidere Homemakers’ Club in 1916, the first founders established the club as a way to contribute to the war effort during World War I. During the war years, the Club focused on making and collecting linens, knitted items, and food to the Red Cross and YMCA, which was then distributed to soldiers overseas. While Belvidere as a neighbourhood has disappeared off the maps, it’s notable that the Belvidere group was the second Women’s Institute founded in Sherbrooke County.
First things first: where WAS Belvidere, anyway? If you guessed that it has something to do with Belvédère Street, you are correct. The neighbourhood of Belvidere was located in the area of the present-day Felton Street in Sherbrooke. At the time, however, what would become Dunant Street was called de la Grotte Road and North Hatley Road was Upper Belvidere Road. The present Belvédère Street was called Belvidere South Street. Also worth noting is that de la Grotte Road turned at Felton Street and did not continue straight the way Dunant does today.
The street, as well as the neighbourhood, draws its name from an early 19th century property owner, William Bowman Felton, who had built a grand home in that area, which he named “Belvedere” from the Italian words for “beautiful view.” The women of the Belvidere W.I. continued acknowledge Felton’s contribution to the neighbourhood more than century later when they celebrated Sherbrooke’s “centenary” with a tea and the placement of a commemorative plaque at the old Felton property in 1937.
Although the Club organized activities in the spirit of other Women’s Institutes from the beginning, the Club was officially renamed the Belvidere Women’s Institute in 1921. Beyond fundraisers and other charitable work, Women’s Institutes across Canada played an important role in the movement towards more resources for “adult education,” which saw a heightened emphasis on providing practical classes for adults to expand their knowledge. Belvidere was no exception to this; the 1918 topics included canning, dressmaking, school libraries, and hygiene.
Through the years, the members of the Belvidere W.I. pursued many activities aimed at improving their surrounding communities but they also knew how to have some fun at the same time, including social activities, friendly contests, and creative parade floats. After 76 years of camaraderie and community service, the Belvidere Women’s Institute disbanded in 1992.
With the recent celebration of Queen Elizabeth II’s Platinum Jubilee and with Victoria Day around the corner, which is the monarch’s official birthday in Canada, it seems like a fitting time to step back nearly seven decades to the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II to see how Townshippers marked the momentous occasion.
Elizabeth II acceded to the throne following her father’s death on February 6, 1952 but her coronation only took place 16 months later, on June 2, 1953. Adding to the excitement and build-up around the ceremony, Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation was the first to be fully televised and the Commonwealth realms around the world were invited to participate with their own celebrations. Many part of Canada whole-heartedly joined in events of all magnitudes. Among the Canadian press, the demand for photographs and film reels to rebroadcast the coronation ceremony was such that jet bombers were chartered to fly film from London to Montreal immediately following the event; they landed in Montreal in the early evening of Coronation Day.
Not to be left out of the elaborate festivities in London and in the larger cities across Canada, cities and towns around the Townships went all in for their own coronation celebrations. Leading up to the coronation, the Sherbrooke High School Players put on their “Coronation Revue” in March 1953 at the Mitchell School. The two-night performance included songs celebrating the realms of the Commonwealth, followed by skits to highlight English and French Canada, and the Maritimes. The Sherbrooke Daily Record even reported on the number of babies who were born on the day of the Queen’s coronation. Among the seven babies were a set of twin girls whose parents named “Anne” and “Elizabeth” in honour of their royal birthday. For one baby boy who was still unnamed at the time the paper went to press, it was reported that the nurses were campaigning for “Philip.”
On June 2, a number of towns hosted – at minimum – a parade to celebrate Queen Elizabeth II, but many also organized festivities throughout the whole day. Sherbrooke held a full programme at the parade grounds with speeches, songs, fireworks and movies at Jacques Cartier Park, and the Sherbrooke District Council Boy Scouts hosted a “Coronation Day council fire” in the parking lot at the high school.
North Hatley celebrated with races, games, a parade, a concert, street dancing, fireworks, and closed out their event with a bonfire float in the middle of Lake Massawippi. In contrast, the village of Massawippi celebrated with the presentation of a portrait of the Queen for the Community Hall, followed by a salad and baked bean supper. In a completely different direction, Windsor hosted a Coronation Curling Bonspiel with 28 rinks participating.
As of Coronation Day, Lennoxville’s “Main Street” was re-christened to the “Queen Street” we know today, and, in addition to games and fireworks, organized a parade through the streets, led by Bishop’s College School’s Bugle Band and approximately 200 children on bicycles, tricycles and homemade floats. Coaticook hosted a Coronation dance and parade, where one of the special prizes was awarded to a bicycle-drawn wagon carrying a little girl dressed as the Queen. In Stanstead, the festivities were off to an early start with church bells ringing throughout the three villages at the exact moment of coronation (7:30AM), followed by a parade, baseball game, and street dance in the evening.
Clearly, the communities of the Townships found great excitement in Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation and enthusiastically celebrated in a variety of ways. However, while the events were organized around the coronation, the activities were also significant as an excuse for people to get out and socialize with their neighbours in the middle of an otherwise normal workweek.
While driving recently and upon seeing a sign for Tomifobia, my car-mate made a joke about a “fear of Toms” and asked where the name came from; a question I did not have answer for at the time. How did Tomifobia get its name? The short answer is that the hamlet takes its name from the Tomifobia River, which winds its way through the area. That answer, however, feels unsatisfyingly simple and, as it turns out, there is quite a bit of history of this place that traces through time in order to bring us to the present.
Going back two centuries, when American and European settlers were arriving to Stanstead County, before there was a village of any sort at that spot, Joseph Bouchette’s topographical description of the area focuses instead on Lake Tomefobi, which was fed by “a considerable stream” that eventually became known as the Tomifobia River. By the mid-1800s “Lake Tomefobi” was falling out of use and replaced by “Lake Massawippi,” which is what appears on Putnam and Gray’s 1863 map of the St. Francis District and, of course, the name by which we know the lake today. This invites questions on the origins of the names “Tomefobi/Tomifobia.” There is not much published about the etymology of Tomefobi unfortunately, but a few sources in the early 20th century recounted that “Tomefobi” was an alteration of “temossobic”, an Abenaki word for fish. Similarly, “Tomifobia” also has Abenaki origins, with the following possible meanings (according to the province’s toponymy commission): tranquil river, crooked river, winding, or river/road that walks.
Settlers, including Philip N. Smith, established mills in the early 1800s on the Tomefobi River and by 1861, the spot included a sawmill and woolen mill, along with a blacksmith shop and schoolhouse. By 1870, the Massawippi Valley Railway had completed their line connecting Lennoxville to Beebe Junction, which included station – and the subsequent establishment of a post office – at the village. Requiring a name for the post office and station, and as the Smith family were early settlers, the station, post office and village became “Smith’s Mills.” By 1898, Smith’s Mills was home to 150 people and consisted of a station for the Boston & Maine Railroad, two sawmills, a gristmill, a hotel, the Methodist church, two blacksmiths, a general store and a woolen factory.
By the early 1900s, however, the generic name of Smith’s Mills began to pose problems for people near and far. According to a newspaper article from the time, the existence of a Smith’s Mills, QC; Smith’s Falls, ON; Smith’s Mills, ME; Smithville, NS; and Smith Cove, NS caused a great deal of headache for the railway and post office, causing significant delays in the delivery of mail and freight when they went to the wrong “Smith” place. In order to reduce the confusion, the village councilors voted and Smith’s Mills was rechristened Tomifobia in July 1918. And that, my friends, is the long story of how Tomifobia got its name.
Going back one hundred years to the corner of what is presently Mansonville’s Principale and Joseph-Blanchet Streets depicts a much different streetscape from what we see today. Postcard views from the early 20th century showing the town square and the corner that was then Main and Bridge Streets are striking for the tree-lined roads and picturesque buildings, which are only vaguely recognizable to the contemporary viewer.
Existing only as a parking lot today, the Manson House hotel, sometimes also known as Mansonville House, has its origins at least as far back as the 1860s, when it was operated by James Manson. The hotel was taken over by one of James’ sons, William B. Manson, in 1871. Over its 120+ years of existence, Manson House was operated by a series of different owners, from Benjamin Sisco/the Sisco Brothers in the 1890s, to Samuel H. Botterill from sometime in the aughts to around 1916, followed by Galen Heath and his sons, Arnold and Merrill. Following the Heaths, the hotel went through a revolving door of owners from 1958 to 1983, when the Mansonville Hotel met its fate with a fire that destroyed the top two floors on June 8th, 1983 and it was subsequently demolished.
Before the hotel’s slow decline in the second part of the 20th century, it was a focal point of the town, attracting visitors from near and far. From the time of William B. Manson, the ETRC Archives has this lovely ledger recording the guests of the Manson House, beginning in 1876 and then jumping ahead to the 1910s when it was owned and operated by Samuel H. Botterill. The ledger records guests from places such as Cowansville, Magog, Montreal, California and a great many from towns in Vermont, often welcoming 5-10 guests on any given day. The Manson House had a short-lived existence as a temperance hotel in 1915, hopping on the prohibition-era trend of offering hotel-goers an alcohol-free option for their travels. The Manson House also served an important role in the social life of the town, including a third-floor ballroom and served as a gathering place for the community.
While the Town Hall resides in its original spot from the 1800s, it has gone through three versions, with the present Town Hall dating from 1923. The first Town Hall building was built by James Manson, giving it the “Manson Block” name. This building was destroyed by fire in 1910 and rebuilt as the Manson Block pictured here. For a short-lived 13 years, the three-story cement building housed the Town Hall, customs office, general store, post office, telephone exchange, and the Canadian Bank of Commerce. On January 29th, 1923, it, too, was destroyed by fire, causing upheaval in the town’s services, including a days-long interruption in telephone communication and rural mail delivery. The only items that were saved from the building were, reportedly, two barber’s chairs from the barber shop in the basement. Newspapers at the time lamented at the loss of Mansonville’s “most beautiful building.” The town hall rose from the ashes once again, however, and is the building we see today.
Brookbury. Canterbury. Bown. Bury. At one time, each of these villages located in the historical boundaries of Bury Township had their own Anglican church (most are still standing today). The proliferation of churches in Bury, which stand as important institutions in the social and religious lives of the people, can make historical research a challenge at times. A document might make reference to an Anglican church in Bury. Do they mean Bury-the-town or Bury-the-township? Moreover, if they mean Bury-the-township, exactly which Anglican Church can become a question without an immediate answer.
This is how the process goes with research sometimes. Ask a simple question and down the rabbit hole we go. A photograph identified simply as “Bury Anglican church on fire” caught my eye recently for the intensity of the flames and smoke; the photo snapped mid-destruction. A little checking and it became clear that it was not St. Paul’s in Bury but St. Thomas’ in Bown. Now a collection of a few houses and a cemetery, it once included a Protestant school, a Catholic school, and a post office along with the Anglican Church as part of its small community.
While Bury Township would eventually be home to a number of churches, St. Thomas’ in Bown was the first. Construction on the church started in 1836 and it was consecrated by Bishop Mountain in January 1849. St. Thomas’ was built by the British American Land Company to serve the immigrants they were trying to settle on the lands they had recently acquired from the government. In particular, St. Thomas’ Church and cemetery served the Bown and Canterbury communities for many years, until Christ Church in Canterbury was built in 1896.
The St. Thomas’ pictured here is the second church to sit at that spot. The first church, from 1836, is said to have been destroyed by fire, possibly around 1878 but the details are a bit fuzzy in the records. Some accounts suggest the first reconstruction attempt for St. Thomas’ ended when it was damaged in a windstorm and it was not until September 1897 that the second church, the one pictured here, was consecrated. On June 10th, 1943, a grass fire ignited and destroyed St. Thomas’, but not before most of the contents were saved from the flames. One item that could not be saved was a memorial tablet, erected in the church to commemorate Guy Thompson who lost his life while serving in World War I.
St. Thomas’ in Bown was never rebuilt, with other Anglican churches available relatively close-by to serve the Anglican community, but the cemetery remained the Anglican burial ground for the area, particularly since Christ Church in Canterbury did not have their own. In 1956, a commemorative sign was placed at the cemetery to remember St. Thomas’ Anglican Church and it remains as a testament to Bown’s rich past.
For many, the holiday season can bring mixed emotions to the surface. For some, they might be feelings of excitement and joy, for others, they might be feelings of sadness or longing, or they might be some mix of them all. As we go through another ‘Covid Christmas’, these feelings may be heightened as some are able to visit family in nearly two years, while others are kept apart yet again. The echos of voices we find scattered through the archives remind us that this season has long been one of taking stock of the present and of reflection on the meaning of home.
In the 1860s, Lyman May and Amanda Melvina May, children of Sylvester May, set out from Baldwin’s Mills to the industrial town of Lynn, Massachusetts, in search of a better future. Both Lyman and Melvina would live out the rest of their lives in Massachusetts and corresponded regularly with friends and family back in Baldwin’s Mills, some of which are now preserved in the archives. Peppered throughout the correspondence, particularly in the early years following their move, Lyman and Melvina express feelings of contentment with their surroundings while also yearning for family and friends as one year turned into another. In 1867, Lyman writes home about their celebration of American Thanksgiving:
“this day brought many recollections of the past and we talked much of friends and relatives far away; and wished that some of them were with us that we might greet each other, and enjoy a social chat; but all of no avail, it could not be.”
While the holiday season brought a longing for old acquaintances, the Mays’ correspondence often showed the most longing to be “home” during maple sugaring season. In March 1864, Lyman wrote home to his brother Darius to say that he “ought to come up to old Canada, where the snow is five or six feet deep & plough in it a while, break roads in the sugar bush place, draw manure a while, & chop wood at the door a while with you.” Excluding sugaring season, however, Lyman seemed quite content to leave Canadian winters behind in favour of the more mild winters of Massachusetts!
Forty years later, we find Minnie Bowen spending Christmas on Pilley’s Island in Newfoundland. Born and raised in Sherbrooke, Minnie spent fifteen months on Pilley’s Island while her husband, Cecil, worked as the General Manager of the mines. The couple was on the Island for Christmas in 1891, during which time Minnie reflects on the traditions she is missing back home as she writes
“I wonder what you and Merrie are doing this Xmastide which – must all pass so far from home! I suppose Carrie is deep in the Xmas Club – but I hope she is writing to me too for I will get letters sometime – I have been thinking of you all so much – and wishing to see you.”
Despite these sentiments, Minnie makes the most of Christmas on Pilley’s Island for the families of the miners as she set up a Christmas tree and organized a party for the children (all 200 of them!), gifting them with sweets and other small items.
A half century later, the world found itself amidst yet another World War, with thousands of soldiers experiencing the daily horrors of the warfront. During this time of danger, fear, and stress with few reprieves, small comforts from home were made all the more meaningful. For one bombardier from Cowansville, Geroge S. Heatherington, care packages from the Soldiers Comfort Club meant enough that he kept the tags from each one he received. One Christmas comfort package received by Heatherington included a cake, shoe strings, peanuts, life savers, paper and envelopes, chocolate drink powder, pudding, 50 cigarettes, chocolate bars, and cheese. Another package similar items as well as tea, razor blades and shaving cream, and gum. Like many other benevolent organizations during the Wars, the Cowansville Soldiers Comfort Club was organized in 1940 to fund raise and collect goods to send to soldiers. By 1945, the Cowansville Club was mailing 150 packages each month to the men fighting overseas, including at least one prisoner of war. For soldiers and airmen like Heatherington, beyond their practicality, these care packages brought with them reminders of home and the community that was supporting them.
You would think that being presented with a photograph of an unidentified town with relatively substantial mining operations visible in the background would be fairly easy to situate and identify. Or, at least, that was my first thought when I saw this photograph of a long, building-lined main street with a distinct slope and large tailings piles seen in the background but, as it turns out, I was wrong. Looking at old topographic maps showing mining operations pointed to a few possibilities, including Robertsonville and East Broughton, but the lack of any visible church and slope of the street didn’t seem to quite fit. Finally, the lightbulb moment came from another photograph labeled as the Quebec Asbestos Corporation in East Broughton. The challenge had arisen because the mining town was actually East Broughton Station, a neighbourhood community connected to East Broughton but not shown in the photo.
Before the establishment of the mines, East Broughton Station was just that: a station stop along the Quebec Central Railway adjacent to East Broughton, which was a small village whose existence was largely to provide services, such as a church and a post office, to the surrounding farmers. In 1892, in the very early days of the mining operations, East Broughton had a population of 150. Around that time, Messrs. Walsh and Mulvena (likely Henry Mulvena and John H. Walsh) were getting an asbestos mine established in East Broughton. This mine would in time come to define the economy of the town. Initially, many of the miners worked seasonally and divided their efforts between mining and farming but as asbestos mining became more lucrative, employees went from being farmer-miners to miners and the part of the village known as East Broughton Station expanded to house them. By 1921, the population of East Broughton had grown to 1,709, with the asbestos industry solidly rooted as the dominant employer.
Although it had been operating for almost a decade, the Quebec Asbestos Corporation was officially incorporated in 1901 by a group of Townships men, including Henry W. Mulvena (district magistrate), John H. Walsh (railway purchasing manager); Arthur H. Anderson (railway purchasing agent); John Mulvena (farmer) and Thomas D. Walsh (railway agent). By 1915, however, Philip Carey Manufacturing, a company operating out of Ohio, had acquired Quebec Asbestos Corp. Focusing on asbestos and asphalt building materials, Philip Carey Mfg expanded their holdings in the province to include a processing plant in Lennoxville and offices in Montreal.
In 1949, Le Devoir published a scathing report by journalist Burton LeDoux on asbestosis, careless mining company owners, and the health of residents of East Broughton where he describes an asbestos dust that blanketed East Broughton Station and the inescapable cough that all mine employees suffered from during their long hours in the freezing, unventilated plants. His report on the critical health risks from work with asbestos was significant because it was the first to be written in French and widely circulated, doing a great to deal raise awareness among miners about how seriously they should be considering their work environments. While the employees of Quebec Asbestos Corp. chose not to strike in 1949, LeDoux’s exposé on East Broughton contributed to the 1949 strike at the Johns-Manville Company in Asbestos.
Facing declining demand for short fibre asbestos, the Philip Carey Company, which had become Carey Canada, finally closed the East Broughton asbestos mine in the spring of 1986. At the time of its closure, it employed 170 people. Despite this devastating blow to the one-industry town, East Broughton weathered the challenges and today its population is not that far from its asbestos-mining heyday. Decades have passed since the mine’s closure but its imprints on the town’s history are still visible, the tailings piles off in the distance.
As the depths of the Great Depression were starting to wane into the late 1930s, members of the Sherbrooke Chamber of Commerce put their weight behind the idea of throwing a spectacular event to celebrate Sherbrooke’s centenary in 1937, which would serve to boost the local economy and morale during those trying times. Only, it was later realized that the year 1837 bears no real historical significance and Sherbrooke’s 1937 celebrations were actually for a fake centenary.
It should be noted that the prominent political and business figures in Sherbrooke believed that 1837 was a date of real significance, being the year of Sherbrooke’s incorporation and the year the City’s first newspaper began. As the details of history have unraveled over the decades since then, however, it was noted that Sherbrooke was not actually incorporated at that time (that would not happen until 1852) but that 1837 was the first time “Town of Sherbrooke” was used. With more unraveling, it was found that even the first usage of the “Town of Sherbrooke” didn’t occur until 1839, and that the Sherbrooke Gazette was preceded by the St. Francis Courier and Sherbrooke Gazette, which began publication in 1831.
Real or fake, there is no question that Sherbrooke put together an impressive event for the month-long centennial celebrations, which were then rounded off with the Sherbrooke Fair. From the beginning, the organizers focused on Sherbrooke’s industrial and technological importance in the region, with much of the publicity referring to the “Queen City of the Eastern Townships” and “Electric City.” These were clear themes throughout the publicity and programming of the celebration. In particular, Sherbrooke’s electrical prowess was highlighted with light decorations and displays throughout the streets. All of the bridges and the main thoroughfares – King and Wellington Streets – were decorated with thousands of lights, and the programme included nighttime dances organized in the streets illuminated with multicoloured lights and live music amplified through speakers.
The other key theme of the events was the city’s history over the century. This was highlighted in various ways, beginning with opening ceremonies officiated by Sherbrooke’s Mayor Emile Rioux accompanied by actors portraying Gilbert Hyatt, one of the earliest settlers, and an “Indian Chief,” all surrounded by heralds, criers, a bugler, and a drummer. The historical theme continued throughout, including a historical pageant presented three times per week, a historical ball with participants in costumes from different periods, and a weekend where the Grand Trunk Railway’s oldest engine from the era when railway service first came to Sherbrooke in 1853 and the newest engine available – Canadian National’s 6000 – were on display. The historical pageant, itself, was an impressive production, which included 1,500 costumed performers, 270 dancers, and two choirs performing at the new amphitheater specially built for the centenary on the Sherbrooke fairgrounds.
The centenary events also hosted a number of dignitaries, including Premier Maurice Duplessis, Senator John Nichol, and Quebec’s Lieutenant Govenor Esioff-Léon Patenaude, and guests of historical significance, such as the son and daughter of Alexander T. Galt. Premier Duplessis’ visit included a radio broadcasted address where he praised Sherbrooke for its successes, remarking that “it has been rightfully said that Sherbrooke is the Queen City of the Eastern Townships – and what a graceful and charming Queen she is.” His observations also concluded that the harmony and “entente cordiale” between English and French in Sherbrooke should be an example to the rest of the province and the country.
It’s been more than eight decades since Sherbrooke’s Centenary but the event continues to live on in the collective memory through photographs and memorabilia that still surface regularly, making it an event with lasting importance, even if it was for a fake anniversary!
Horses, pigs, cows, sheep, flowers, fruit, vegetables, milk products, honey, maple syrup, machinery, and poultry (the latter including FIFTY categories of fowl). All – and more – were on display for the tens of thousands of people visiting Canada’s Great Eastern Exhibition held in Sherbrooke in the early 1900s.
For me, the Sherbrooke Fair is only a vague blip in my memory of childhood. While my family has always been faithful attendees and/or participants in the local fairs, the Sherbrooke Fair was not among those that we attended regularly. For some readers out there, however, the Sherbrooke Fair may hold fond memories of the exhibits, the livestock competitions, and the spectacle of it. And, in the early years of the fair: what a spectacle it was!
Founded in 1885 as the Eastern Townships Agricultural Association (ETAA), its beginnings came much later than its Townships counterparts in Bedford, Stanstead, Compton, Richmond, and Brome but it made up for its late debut with splash. The ETAA board of directors purchased part of the Terrill property on what was then Pine Street (later Parc Street, present-day du Cégep Street) for the exposition grounds and got to work building the grand stand, racetrack, dining hall, stables, and a machinery exhibition area. The first year of the fair, 1885, saw 15,000 visitors pass through the gates. Over the next four decades, this number would grow to 30,000 visitors on a single day at the height of the fair’s popularity.
From the beginning, the directors of the ETAA set their sights high and strove towards hosting an agricultural and educational event that went beyond the region to attract exhibitors from across the province, across Canada, and New England. In 1886, the ETAA won their bid to host the provincial and dominion exhibitions, positioning the Sherbrooke Fair as Canada’s Great Eastern Exhibition. In 1907, Sherbrooke again hosted the Dominion Exhibition and entered into the fair’s heyday.
New facilities and events were continually added to attract larger crowds. The grandstand went from accommodating 1,000 spectators to 8,500 by 1907, and over the years they added buildings to showcase hundreds of industries, businesses, arts and crafts, and expanded the facilities for livestock, including the Louis F. Codère building in 1949 to house the boys’ and girls’ Calf Club. Among the attractions featured at the fair over the years were a hot-air balloon launch and parachutist first included in 1888, an airplane fly-by in 1912, car races were added in 1923, which accompanied the pageants, acrobats, alligators, and visits from dignitaries that were among the long list of entertainment.
Some other notable highlights from the fair’s long history: a children’s day where children could apply for free admission to the fair (in 1928, 15,000 tickets were issued), for decades the mayors of Sherbrooke would declare a civic holiday for a day or half-day during the fair so that all residents could attend, and for at least a few years, included among the booths was that of the Post Office, where fair-goers could learn how to properly address letters and wrap packages.
While the Sherbrooke Fair’s decline can be attributed to a number of factors over decades, the first tangible signs can be seen with the loss stables and the 8,500-seat grandstand to fire in 1959 and 1961, and the demolition of many other buildings through the 1960s, which were never replaced in most cases. One particularly striking loss was the demolition of one of the fair’s most iconic buildings, the hexagonal main building, which was removed in 1966 to make space for the Palais des Sports and parking areas. This gradual move away from the agricultural focus of the fair was at least partly the result of the ETAA’s financial struggles and the consequential transfer of the fairgrounds property to the City of Sherbrooke in 1967.
The Sherbrooke Fair successfully celebrated their 100th year in 1985 but continued to decline into the early 1990s, when the Fair had to be cancelled in 1995 for financial difficulties. Fair organizers – by then the Corporation de l’exposition régionale agricole de Sherbrooke (CERAS)- were able to regroup for 1996 but in 1997, its final year, the fair was held without any sort of agricultural component and was followed by the dissolution of CERAS early in 1998.
In the 1950s, a silent but interminable killer was ravaging the towering elms of the Townships and there seemed to be little that could be done to slow its progress. In half a century, the tenacious Dutch elm disease had wiped out an estimated 50% of the elm trees in eastern Canada but cities were particularly hard hit, having lost over 80% of their elms. Over the course of four years alone, from 1951-1955, the city of Sherbrooke lost over 500 trees to Dutch elm disease.
The disease, first identified by scientists in Holland, was first found in Saint-Ours, Quebec in 1944 and within 10 years it had spread to nearly all regions of the St. Lawrence Valley and southern Quebec. It affects white (also known as American), rock, and red elm trees with a fungus spread via bark beetles, which essentially chokes the tree by cutting off its sap supply.
In looking at photographs of landscapes from the early 20th century, among the striking changes evident in them is the presence of elms trees in so many views from around the Townships and are particularly noticeable lining the streets in towns and cities. While elms are found all over rural and urban landscapes, they are particularly desirous in cities for their ability to grow in well-packed, dry soil and for the ample shade provided by their canopy of leaves. For this reason, elms were planted all over towns and cities, sometimes one of the only tree species seen for blocks. This is also why towns were hit particularly hard by Dutch elm disease.
Early on, the responses to Dutch elm disease relied on cutting down and burning infected trees, or spraying them with the infamous pesticide, DDT. Other treatments were tried over the years, including a variety of pesticides, fungicides, and injecting the root system or trunk with chemicals, but nothing proved successful in eradicating the fungus or the bark beetle. As the disease only gained momentum within two decades of its appearance in eastern Canada, it was feared that elms might be extinct within 60 years.
With so many elms already gone and with the implementation of diligent surveillance of elms by city parks departments, however, the spread of Dutch elm disease dropped off over the last decades of the 20th century. While it still poses a threat to elms, the development of hybrid elm species that are more resistant to Dutch elm disease and the continued vigilance in cities and municipalities for infected trees mean that we can still enjoy the imposing silhouette of the elm tree across our landscapes today.