Jacob Gill moved his family from Newmarket to Penetang in 1829. On Monday, October 1st, we started and got to Holland Landing, there we made ourselves as comfortable as we could in one of the old Government Buildings as there was no other shelter for the night to be found. The next morning we got our breakfast as best we could then the goods were put on board a schooner and about noon we were ready to start down the Holland River. We were on that boat until the next afternoon when we came to the head of Kempenfelt Bay now Barrie where we and the goods were landed in a small boat as there was no wharf of any kind at that time. When we got on shore we built a fire and cooked our supper as there was no place we could get in. There was a little store house, kept by a man named Sullinger, which Father got the goods put into. Then we climbed up a hill that seemed very high and long and came to a place where a man named Walker was building a new house and he was kind enough to let us have the use of it for the night. Next day Mr. Walker in a big lumber wagon drove us out on the Penetang Road to where a man named Carriage had a brewery, there we stayed until the afternoon of the next day, father having gone out to Oro to get a team to take us on to Penetang. He got an old coloured man named Smith and it was afternoon on Friday when we started from there. We went onto where some people named Richardson lived and tried for a nights lodging but could not get in so we had to go on in the night and darkness with a lot of little children crying and cross for their supper, ‘til we came to where some people named Craig lived. They were building a new house, it was not very far on but had a floor and a fireplace in it, and the people were very kind to us, helping father to get a fire to warm ourselves by, and we were sadly needing it, we soon had something hot to eat, as we had food and camp kettles with us and while we were busy making ourselves comfortable Mr. Craig had a big pot of new potatoes boiled, bringing them in hot and steaming, and for a lot of such hungrey folk as we were, it was a treat. next morning we were up betimes and had our breakfast before it was light but early as it was, Mr. Craig’s people had been up long enough to bake a loaf of bread, (in a baking kettle) made of wheat ground in a steel mill and used without sifting the bran out. It was the sweetest bread I ever ate. The kindness of these people was great. Well, we were on the road early that day, the wagon going first with the little ones and provisions, the rest of us walking. At noon we stopped to rest, feed the horses and get our dinner. Then we started thru what was called the nine miles of bush, and surely it was a dreary day. The road through the tall dark pines so narrow that in several places father had to get a pole to pry the wagon hubs off the trees. it was long after dark when we came to Mrs. Monday’s where we got shelter for the night. Next morning, Sunday, we arrived at the town of Penetang about two miles from what was called the Establishment, where the soldiers were. Next morning we were taken across the bay to the mouth of the river on which the mill that Father had built for Mr. William Robinson was, where we were intending to live.

When we got on shore we were met by an oxcart to take the things up to the house. We children were a happy lot, running wild through the woods. (I do not think there is anything that makes us feel so free as to get into the woods that are just as the ‘Great Father’ planted them).

We were soon at the house, (just one week from one home to the other) the goods being brought in by batteaux for Nottawasaga Bay, having been brought across the portage from Kempenfelt. This mill was built to saw lumber for the Government buildings that were erected at that time. There was a large stone house built for the soldiers and brick house for the officers. The lumber and timber was made at this mill. Some of it being too long and too large for the mill was sawn by men, the log lying on beams over a pithole in the ground, one man standing on the log and one in the pit, pulling the saw up and down. Then it was taken down and made into rafts and floated down the bay to the place where the buildings were. When this was done Father went too and was bookkeeper and paymaster to the men who were working at the building during the summer of 1831. The next winter we went back to Newmarket. We went in sleighs and were only about three and half days going back.

In the spring of 1832, Father came here (to Orillia, that is) to engineer the building of the chief’s house for the "Indian Department". Here as well as at Penetang the greater part of the lumber was sawn by men with what was called a whip saw. At that time this place called the "Narrows Village". Until there was a Post Office all fathers letters that came were mailed to Penetang and then sent onto him once a month by the soldiers who brought the money to pay the men with. Father came in the spring and the family came in June of the year, 1832. We came to Holland Landing and stayed there all night, in the same old log house as before, then loaded the things on an open schooner and came down the Holland River, got as far as Mr. McVittey’s, where we had dinner. At Eight Mile Point had supper and a run in the woods, then went on the boat again and as there was no wind the man had to paddle all the way from there to the Village. It was about ten o’clock when we got to Orillia and the whart was some trestles put out in the water about twelve feet apart and poles about six inches thru laid on them (the end of one laid between the ends of the other two) so that there was a pole and a space alternating and when we were on them the poles would spring up and down like a weavers treadle so we were very glad when we were on land.

Next morning we were up early to see the new place. There were from twelve to sixteen log houses which had been built for the Indians, the school house forming the centre. They were built in the form of a "V". Above these were two larger houses, one for the farmer kept to teach the Indians and one for the minister. The greater part of these buildings were south of the Coldwater Road and for about three miles toward Coldwater there were at intervals houses on each side of the road the road built for the Indians before we came. Father, superintended the building of the chief’s house and then surveyed the Indian Reserve Lands thru to Coldwater. This reserve lay along both sides of the Coldwater Road. He also built both the saw mill and flour mills here and at Coldwater for the Indians.

In the fall, 1832, the last of the boating, Captain Wood came and settled down where Bay Park is now and Mrs.Wood told me that they lived that winter in a shanty (16 x 12) until after Christmas without a firepalce, building a fire at one end of the room. Money was not wanting but was not much use just then as there ws no way to get away from here after the lake was frozen over and non but Indians to do anything. Then there came one of the hunters down from the north and stayed with them until spring and knowing more about how to make them comfortable, he built a fireplace and filled in between the logs that formed the walls so as to keep out the cold and snow, thus makin the cabin warmer. At that time this place was called the "Narrows Village", afterward "Newtown" and then "Orillia".

My first ride to Coldwater was in 1833. I went over on horse back alone on a pony of Father’s starting about nine in the morning. At that time the road consisted of a track out thru the woods with a log bridge to cross the North River and another at Purbrook without a house of any kind from "Bass Lake" to "Coldwater". My father was then building the mills there for the Indians. (Saw Mill and Flour Mill) The next ride I had to Coldwater was in the fall of 1846. I was then married to Leonard Wilson since August of 1834 and was then living on our farm on the town line between North and South Orillia.

My Father, then living at Coldwater, had been ill for a long time and I received word that if I wished to see him alive I would need to go at once. So there being no conveyance of any kind to be had and only one horse (a three year old colt which had never been saddled) at liberty. I told the neighbours who were trying to help me, I would go to him. So they got a saddle and got it on him with difficulty. When I was mounted they strapped a quilt on behind the saddle and put my oldest little boy, about eleven years old, on it and we started about four in the afternoon. near "Price Corner" we had a long causeway to cross, and in crossing, the horse got his foot in a hole between the logs and fell on his side. how it was that horse or riders were not hurt I could not tell but we were not and I led the horse over to a log and got on myself but could not get the boy on, so we went around to Mr. Fraser’s on the Coldwater Road and he put him on again. By this time it was getting dark but we went on. When we got to the other side of "Purbrook", the horse would keep turning to go back home, so I let him turn but always turned him all the way around so as to go onto Coldwater. We got there about ten o’clock, my father was still living and lived three days after, thus died one of Canada’s pioneers.

He came to Canada in 1812, going first to Nottawasaga River Mouth to build ships for the Government and was left there with two other men to care for the things that belonged to the Government. Sometime before spring their provisions gave out and they could get nothing short of Penetang. After waiting four days they started on a breakfast of one biscuit each. About two miles before they got to the barracks, one of the men gave out and had to be carried most of the way and Father always said he believed it saved all their lives as anxiety about their companion and helping him to walk short distances, kept them all from freezing and gave them something to think about besides their own weariness and suffering.

To these notes by Mrs. Wilson, Mr. Jacob G. Wilson (the eldest son, who accompaned his mother on her ride to Coldwater) adds: When mother and I went in the night to Coldwater there were no clearings or houses between where "Warminster" is now and a distance of seven miles. All a dense forest of timber, somethimes inhabited by bears, wolves and lynx. I have had some experiences with bears that I could tell about if it would interest anybody.

The old coloured man Smith lived for sometime in Orillia and burned a pit of charcoal for my father about 1848 and and a son of his, John Smith, cut a cord of woood out of the tree in an hour on a bet before several witnesses who piled the wood.

The sawmill that my Grandfather, Jacob Gill, built for the Indians was at Marchmount. It is still there and was called "Hare" as my mother writes. The Indian Mill, until it was acquired by the late Jacob Powley about 1856, Mr. James Quinn told me that he assisted at the building of this mill.