“There’s a record of him in Halifax and old-timers tell me his axes were stamped TC,” tool collector Kevin Wood says of an early Kentville blacksmith and axemaker named Thomas William Cox. “But nobody’s ever identified a Tom Cox axe or found where his shop was located.”

Before machinery replaced the horse and ox, farm life and local industries literally evolved around the blacksmith’s shop and the blacksmith often was held in high esteem. Thus I found it intriguing that Kevin Wood mentioned a Kentville blacksmith/axemaker of which little is known. Mr. Wood spoke about Cox during a talk on antique tools last spring at the Kings Historical Society.

Curious to find out who Thomas Cox was – I couldn’t accept that there was little or no record of his existence and his work – I made a note at the time to do some research. Fortunately, I had two potential sources of information – the database compiled by Kentville historian Louis Comeau and the extensive files of the Kings Historical Society. Thanks to these sources I came up a mini profile of Thomas Cox and that highly regarded gentleman is no longer a total mystery.

In his day Thomas Cox was one of Kentville’s best-known citizens. A resident of the town for 50 years, he died at age 78 in 1921, survived by four daughters. His obituary spoke of his “genial and generous nature,” noting that at the time of his death he was Kentville’s oldest citizen. Cox worked as a blacksmith in Kentville until five years before his death, ill health forcing him to retire at age 73.

A reference to Thomas Cox, who was a Planter descendant, can be found in The Cox Connection, a detailed genealogy on the many offspring of Captain John Cox. Captain John was a Planter grantee. Eaton’s Kings County history notes that Captain John founded the Cox family here, receiving a grant in the Cornwallis township in 1764.

Mabel Nichols Kentville history, The Devil’s Half Acre, lists Thomas Cox as one of three practising blacksmiths in Kentville in the 1880s, along with W. O. Forsythe and Frederick Haystead. This jibes with dates given in his obituary which indicates that Cox opened his blacksmith shop in Kentville about the year 1870.

Cox’s obituary indicates that his residence was on Webster Street but the exact location of his shop is not known. Cox was undoubtedly one of the old fashion blacksmiths whose craft was tied in with the horse and oxen period and the time when blacksmiths made most of the tools used on the farm and in the woods. Cox apparently specialised in making axes. He would have been active when the railway reached the Valley and the Nova Scotia Carriage Company was in business.

I mention the railway and the Carriage Company since both employed a great number of blacksmiths. Louis Comeau tells me that due mainly to Kentville being a railway centre, there were at least 50 “company blacksmiths” working out of Kentville at one time. However, there is no evidence that Thomas Cox was employed by the railway or the carriage factory.

Cox’s blacksmith shop may have been located next to the Cornwallis River on Cornwallis Street. Kentville’s last practising blacksmith, John Fitch, apprenticed with Cox for five years. Louis Comeau says that Fitch took over the Cox business and may have used the same premises, a building that once stood on what is now the town library parking lot. Other sources indicate Cox’s shop was once located at the foot of Gallows Hill, Comeau says.

“We have more clues but (it still) remains an interesting mystery,” Dan Conlin, curator of the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic says of the wreck found in Wolfville harbour.

Mr. Conlin was commenting on the recent archaeological survey of the site that I discussed in last week’s column. As mentioned in the column, the wreck was discovered about a year ago by Sherman Bleakney who alerted the Museum. A preliminary survey of the wreck was conducted last September by Conlin, Bleakney and Leon Barron.

While Conlin noted that while “about half the length of the wreck” is buried in mud, a “special frame structure,” which is normally found in the centre of vessels, determined its size to be about 60 to 70 feet long. Conlin said this probably means the wreck was a vessel around 100 gross tons in size. “Further results will have to wait several months for the detailed wreck site drawings to be completed,” Conlin said.

The marine archaeologists who worked on the wreck took wood samples, Conlin said. The samples should reveal if the ship was built of wood obtained locally and perhaps add one more clue in the effort to identify the vessel.

I mentioned in last week’s column that a ceramic shard had been found at the wreck site that was of 18th-century origin, intimating this was a possible clue to the vessel’s age. Mr. Conlin tells me that this ceramic was first produced in the 1850s but it is “not 100 percent clear that it is from the wreck.” David Christianson, an archaeologist with the Nova Scotia Museum who participated in the wreck survey, said it was difficult to confirm that the shard was associated with the vessel since it was “a surface find and not in an intact soil layer.”

The recent archaeological survey yielded a number of clues that may eventually lead to identifying the wreck. However, Conlin notes that while “we know its size and its construction indicates a mid to late 1800s (origin)” more historical background is required to compare to the archaeological record.

Hopefully, some of that background will come from people who have heard stories about the wreck and may know where it came from. The Kings Historical Society has collected a bit of oral history that includes an account from a woman who remembers seeing the wreck in the late 1930s, but more information would be helpful. Readers who know anything about the wreck are urged to contact the Historical Society or me. Anything you have, family lore, an old tale passed down from a grandparent, will help to fill out the story of the Wolfville harbour wreck.

There’s the possibility that researchers will be taking another look at the Wolfville harbour wreck and it’s important that it be left undisturbed. Under the Special Places Act it is illegal to remove objects from a historic shipwreck without a permit. If you’re curious about the wreck, an excellent place to view it is at low tide from Wolfville’s new wharf complex.

“The wreck emerged about mid-July as a mud bank in the harbour… through some change in the current,” reads the initial report by Dan Conlin, curator of marine history at the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic.

Mr. Conlin had done the preliminary investigation of a wreck uncovered by the action of the tides in Wolfville Harbour a year ago. The wreck was tentatively identified as the 18-ton schooner Clara Jane which capsized and sank in Wolfville harbour in November 1879 but there appears to be some doubt about this. In his report Mr. Conlin noted that the measurements of the Clara Jane are only “roughly consistent with the size of the remains” but the wreck appears to be of larger tonnage.

I first heard about the discovery of the wreck last autumn from Leon Barron. Dykelands researcher Sherman Bleakney made the discovery and along with Conlin and Barron participated in the preliminary investigation of the wreck in September 2000. Upon hearing about the discovery – a “mystery wreck” so close at hand is, after all, exciting news – I was gung-ho to write about it in this column. I held off when concerns were raised about publicity luring unwanted visitors to the site before it could be surveyed by marine and archaeological experts. Originally scheduled this spring, the survey was delayed until this month and I was delighted to be invited to tag along.

In his detailed report on the original survey, Dan Conlin noted that the wreck is “in very close proximity to the town of Wolfville” and is visible from the new waterfront park. Since it is close to the wharf I’m surprised no one has reported it before. However, as Conlin points out, the short duration of exposure at low tide may explain why the wreck wasn’t noticed. And perhaps the site has been buried in debris and mud for decades and only now has been uncovered by the powerful Minas Basin tides.

If you’re curious and have a good pair of binoculars, the wreck can easily be seen from the wharf at low tide, looking approximately north towards the harbour channel. You are cautioned about investigating the site since the mud and the tides in this area are treacherous.

In his original report, Dan Conlin noted that the wreck lies roughly in an east-west orientation and is approximately 15 feet wide by 32 feet long. No artefacts were moved from the site but various pieces of ironwork were observed at the wreck – bolts, hasps, hooks and rings, for example. Mr. Conlin noted a thin shard of white ceramic that later was identified as being of 18th-century origin.

Participating in the recent investigation of the site, along with Mr. Conlin and David Christensen of the Nova Scotia Museum were marine archaeologists from Parks Canada who made detailed measurements of the wreck. Their assessment will be available at a later date.

As of this date, the Wolfville harbour wreck has not been identified. Dan Conlin says that Wolfville had at least eight recorded marine casualties, “but no exact match of the wreck.” Conlin said that the wreck’s position is unusual in that it lies close to the harbour entrance and may at one time have been an obstacle to navigation. There’s the possibility, Conlin said, that the wreck was “burned to the water or mud line” to remove it as a hazard.

When he was introduced as guest speaker at the Kings Historical Society earlier this summer, mentioned was made that Rev. James Doyle Davison had recently passed his driving test.

Davison rated this a “very satisfying achievement,” accomplished as it was at age 91, and it is typically modest of him. As a historical writer, Davison has far greater accomplishments but he made no mention of them in the bio he prepared for his introduction.

At last count, Davison has written and had published at least six books dealing with local history. Davison was editor of that superb Wolfville history, Mud Creek, which must rate as one of most detailed small town histories in the Annapolis Valley. In addition, he has researched and written, or is in the process of writing and researching at least 10 more historical or semi-historical books. Most of these books will be privately printed and circulated only to family and acquaintances. Among these latter books are a biography, a Davison genealogy going back nearly four centuries and an autobiography.

Over the years Rev. Davison has been perhaps the most prolific historical writer in the Valley. Besides editing the Wolfville history, Rev. Davison’s published history books include What Mean These Stones?, an account and inventory of the old Horton-Wolfville burial ground which lies along Wolfville’s Main Street and is over 200 years old. Davison also penned a book on the life of Alice Shaw Chipman and the start of formal schooling for women in the Valley (Alice of Grand Pre) and an account of five Planters, A Planter Davison Fivesome.

Another of Davison’s historical works includes an account of the life of Kings County Planter Handley Chipman, 1717-1799 and a detailed account of the life of Eliza Ann Chipman (Eliza of Pleasant Valley). His other historical works include another Chipman biography, William of Pleasant Valley, histories of three Baptist churches -Margaree, Springhill, Berwick – and an account of the life of his parents.

In his recent talk at the Kings Historical Society, Rev. Davison discussed a number of works that are now on his plate. Davison is currently doing research for a work on the Scottish Border and an ancestor that hailed from this region. Davison is also planning a work on Canadian literary theorist Northrup Frye, 1912-91 and a study on irregularities of the English language.

Two years ago Rev. Davison wrote what he calls his Magnum Opus, an account of three 18th century female writers, Eliza Haywood, Aphra Behn and Delariviere Manley. Last year Davison completed a 114 page account of his life and an account of his experiences in touring East End London.

I believe I’ve missed at least half a dozen other books that Rev. Davison has written. In his Historical Society address Rev. Davison made passing reference to a biography on Frank Cleveland Davison, 1875-1917 and works with the titles Your Father Knows and Sense and Nonsense, the latter an account of a stay in hospital after suffering a heart attack.

Despite approaching the century mark, Rev. Davison shows no sign of slowing down – actually, he appears to be young and mentally sharper than some 60-year-olds of my acquaintance – and I believe we’ll see more historical works from his pen.

Eva Urban, Avonport, remembers Edson Graham, the photographer who captured many early 1900s Valley scenes on film.

A superb photographer of the likes of another famous Nova Scotia artist with the camera, A. L. Hardy, Graham’s greatest claim to fame may simply be that he preserved for future generations Valley scenery and a lifestyle that have long vanished. In a recent column on Graham, I recalled that he delighted in shooting seascapes, ox teams, covered bridges and that like.

Urban, who is nearing 90, worked for Graham as his assistant in his Wolfville studio from 1930 to 1942. After her marriage, Urban continued to work for Graham “at busy times.” There were periods, Urban said, when she supervised as many as five girls who had to be called in to help Graham with clerical work and printing. “He was the photographer for Acadia (University)” Urban remembers. “That’s why we were so busy at times and needed extra people. All the students had their pictures taken there; freshmen, the debating team, the football team, all the groups would come down to have their picture taken for the yearbook.”

Graham’s Acadia Studio was located on the north side of Main Street (a photograph of the studio can be found on page 79 of the Wolfville history, Mud Creek, which places it opposite the mouth of Gaspereau Avenue). Urban recalls that a reception area, small studio, workshop and darkroom were on the ground floor; upstairs was a larger studio with different scenery backdrops.

“He was a perfect gentleman, quite formal and hard to get to know,” Urban recalls of Graham. “He called me Miss MacIntosh (her maiden name) all the time, never Eva once all the years I worked for him.”

Urban has several photographs of the interior of Graham’s studio that she cherishes. One is of her standing in his studio, another of Graham himself. Graham passed away in 1956, living out his retirement years with a widowed sister in Florida, but Urban says that he came back to Wolfville on several occasions. “He came down to visit me here in Avonport when he was home,” she said, “and I was so pleased to see him. I guess because I wasn’t working for him anymore he wasn’t so formal.”

As mentioned in the previous column on Graham, the photographer’s first contact with Wolfville began when he became the manager of the W. W. Robson studio. Robson apparently ran a photography business in both Windsor and Wolfville. In the Wolfville history, Mud Creek, it is noted that in 1904 Robson “had increased his photography work in Wolfville from two days to four, in consequence of having received so much assistance from Wolfville merchants after the disastrous Windsor fire.”

The brief biography on Graham in An Atlantic Album states that in 1905 he moved to Windsor and lived there for 45 years. However, the various references in Mud Creek indicate a life-long association with Wolfville. In the history, Graham is listed as a member of the Wolfville Chamber of Commerce in 1939, a charter member of the Wolfville Rotary Club (1935) a charter member of the Wolfville Historical Society (1941) and a Wolfville town councillor in 1919 and 1920. In 1940, notes the history, Graham had completed 35 years in the “photography business (and) changed the name of his establishment to Acadia Studio.”

(My thanks to Roscoe Potter, Wolfville, for directing me to Graham’s former assistant, Eva Urban and for providing information on the photographer).