For a decade, from 1866 to 1875, the steamboat Ida Burton was a familiar sight on Lake Simcoe. It was a vessel with colourful ties to the region’s history and folklore.
First, the history.
The Ida Burton honoured the beloved mother of the vessel’s owners, brothers James Lindsay, Martin, and George Burton.
The sons of lumberman John Burton, the Burton brothers were among the most prominent businessmen in 19th-century Barrie and their reach spread across Ontario.
Together, they had a hand in most of the large industries in Barrie and owned nearly half of the nearby village of Allandale (then part of Innisfil, and now engulfed by Barrie). James Lindsay (J.L.) occupied most of his time with the Northern Navigation Company, whose fleet steamed across the water of Georgian Bay, Lake Simcoe and Lake Couchiching, delivering mail, cargo and passengers. The Ida Burton represented part of the Northern Navigation Company’s network of steamboats.
In 1875, James married Florence Thomson, the oldest daughter of lumber magnate Archibald Thomson. A year later, Martin married Florence’s younger sister, Emma. The nuptials immersed them deeply into the lumber world and they went into the business by establishing Burton Brothers, with timber limits throughout Parry Sound District and a mill at Byng Inlet. James and Martin later helped illuminate Barrie by establishing the Barrie Electric Light Company.
Now, the folklore.
There are two tales associated with the Ida Burton that left local tongues wagging.
The first occurred in 1869, when George Burton drowned after falling overboard. The county coroner, Dr. Llewellyn Oliver, labelled it an accident, and everyone moved on. But when George’s widow rather quickly married the coroner, who was minority owner in the Ida Burton and who signed George’s death certificate, people began to whisper. Nothing was ever proven, but there was talk that foul play was involved.
The other tale involved a strapping Scottish lad by the name of Jimmie Reid, who was about to marry. The ceremony mere hours away, everyone was decked out in their finest, eagerly anticipating the nuptials. Suddenly, a gasping friend raced up to the anxious groom with troubling news. Horror of horrors, the bride, Nora McGlashen, was Irish Catholic on her mother’s side. Union with an Irish lassie was completely unacceptable to Reid. He broke the news to the assembled guests. There would be no wedding today. All dressed up with nowhere to go, many of the guests — and reputedly the groom as well — decided to have a party anyway. They piled aboard the Ida Burton for a raucous afternoon. Not amused were fellow passengers, the Sons of Temperance, a group that advocated for abstinence from drink.
In 1876, the ship, stripped of machinery, was unceremoniously sunk along the Orillia shoreline. Though the once-elegant side-wheeler ended up as the foundation for a wharf, the important history and colourful folklore surrounding her ensures she will continue to be remembered.
