From Romantic Kent, pages 693 & 694

as printed by Thames Tales -- strange findings

Shortly after WW1 dredging the river ceased and the river started to revert to a state of nature. As it was dredged the river sped up and undercut many areas along its bank, but as dredging was curtailed, sediment brought down gradually reduces the flow to is original rate.

During this time the river undercut a huge old apple orchard near the village of Louisville and one by one the old apple trees toppled. They were swepped away to form new snags.

When about half the orchard was gone strange things began to appear. Amid the apple roots were human bones, intrespersed with brass buttons, indicating uniforms.

Unfortunately, none were preserved and since the river completed its erosian, the exact location of the orchard is unknnown. It is doubtful that these came from the Battle of the Thames, some 12 miles further up stream. The fact that the bones were intertwined among the roots indicated that they were buried there before the trees were planted.

The following are possibililities. They might have been French surveyors sent under the French regime. Perhaps they were LaSalle's lost company. Probably, they were members of Deputy Surveyor Patrick McNiff, who in 1793 lost eight of his party through the ice on the river. Soldiers were used on these expeditions explaining the brass buttons and the bodies were probably recovered in the spring and buried on the high bank. The apple orchard was planted later.

But, we will never know!

From Romantic Kent, pages 692-694

All down the Thames, to its very mouth, according to old-timers, timber, waterlogged but worth a fortune, lay buried in the river-bed.
Every now and then a log, accidentally brought to the surface, verified the tradition. Around 1913, indeed, a company was organized to retrieve the lost timber. The promoters, though, were more interested in selling shares than in recovering logs; and the venture flopped.

In pioneer days, the Thames was one of southwestern Ontario's great transportation routes. Many a west-bound settler in the spring took passage, with his family and household goods, on a log raft to reach his wilderness home down stream. Governments in an even later era busied themselves building docks and dredging, especially when elections were in the offing. In 1882, when Henry Smyth, Conservative, was contesting Kent against Doctor James Samson, Liberal, the Macdonald government at Ottawa launched an exceedingly ambitious program of improving the Thames from Chatham to Lake St. Clair. The dredging was successful. Smyth beat Samson, not merely in the general election, but in an ensuing by-election. And, incidentally, river navigation benefited.

The program was resumed in 1884, the entire river from Chatham to the lake being dredged and snags removed. Shipping increased, and everybody with anything to ship had a wharf on the river. Gradually, however, the transportation business passed to larger craft, which disdained to stop at every small wharf, and the small shippers turned to the railroads.

By 1887, the river was silting up, the worst problem being the sandbar at the mouth. Shipping once more dwindled. This time, however, Kent elected an opposition member, and the river continued to silt up.

In 1903, the government dredged a channel twelve feet deep and 100 feet wide from Chatham to the lake and through the bar to really deep water. In 1905-7 a wharf was built near the mouth of the river and retaining walls were constructed at Chatham. Large lake craft came up to the city, some even wintering there. Chatham, for a few years, was a lake port.

Efforts seem to have been made to keep the channel clear till the first world war in 1914 curtailed such activities. Snags--sunken trees and stumps--were a great danger to shipping. IN 1910, some 3,000 of these were removed from a short stretch of river three miles below Chatham.

In 1914 a fortune in timber was retrieved from the channel near Prairie Siding, an accumulation of saw logs buried in the river bed for untold years. Wood kept under water will last for centuries. This find contained 8,700 feet, board measure, of valuable timber.

The dredging, though, began to show effects on the river itself. A stream with its course deepened or changed will always struggle to return to its natural condition. The reason, well understood by engineers, has to do with the rate of flow of the water and sediment that can be carried at a certain speed. As the bottom is deepened, the speed of the flow increases. This brings down more sediment until enough is deposited to reduce the flow to its original rate.

Before the Thames reverted to a state of nature, though, it undercut its banks at several points. Near Louisville was an orchard of huge old apple trees. The river bit into the land and one by one the ancient trees toppled, to be swept down in flood and form new snags.

When about half the orchard was gone, strange items began to appear. Amid the apple roots were human bones, interspersed, it is said, with brass buttons, indicating uniforms. Unfortunately, none of the buttons seem to have been preserved; and, since the river ultimately completed its work of erosion, the exact location of the orchard is in doubt. It is doubtful if the wearers of the brass-buttoned uniforms were soldiers killed at the Battle of the Thames, since that engagement was fought ten or twelve miles farther upstream. The fact that the roots were entwined among the bones indicates the bodies were buried there before the orchard was planted.

Possibly the men were forgotten surveyors sent to explore the land under the French regime. Perhaps they were La Salle's lost company. More likely they were members of Deputy Surveyor Patrick McNiff's party of whom, in the winter of 1793, no less than eight were lost through the river ice. Soldiers were used on these expeditions, and the bodies may have been recovered in the spring, if not earlier, and buried on the high bank, where the orchard was later planted.