A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada: The Journals, Letters and Art of Anne Langton 9781442688162

Table of contents :
Contents
List of Illustrations
Preface
Acknowledgments
A Note on the Text
Frequently Mentioned Names
Langton Family Tree
Abbreviations
Introduction
Letters, 1834–1835
Journals and Letters, 1837
Journals and Letters, 1838
Journals and Letters, 1839
Journals and Letters, 1840
Journals and Letters, 1841
Journals and Letters, 1842
Letters, 1843
Notes and Letters, 1844–1845
Journals, Letters, and Notes, 1846–1847
Afterword
Works Cited
Illustration Credits
Index

Citation preview

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A GENTLEWOMAN IN UPPER CANADA: THE JOURNALS, LETTERS, AND ART OF ANNE LANGTON

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Anne Langton. Self-portrait, 1840

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A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada The Journals, Letters, and Art of Anne Langton

Edited by Barbara Williams

UNIVERSITY OF TO RONTO PRESS Toronto Buffalo London

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© University of Toronto Press Incorporated 2008 www.utppublishing.com Toronto Buffalo London Printed in Canada ISBN 978-0-8020-3549-3

Printed on acid-free paper

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication Langton, Anne, 1804?–1893. A gentlewoman in Upper Canada : the journals, letters, and art of Anne Langton / edited by Barbara Williams. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-8020-3549-3 1. Langton, Anne, 1804?–1893. 2. Frontier and pioneer life – Ontario. 3. Ontario – Social life and customs – 19th century. 4. Women – Ontario – Social conditions – 19th century. 5. Art, Canadian – 19th century. 6. Women pioneers – Ontario – Biography. 7. Women immigrants – Ontario – Biography. 8. Artists – Canada – Biography. 9. Fenelon Falls Region (Ont.) – Biography. I. Williams, Barbara, 1937– II. Title. FC3072.1.L35A3 2008

971.3¢02092

C2008-901563-0

University of Toronto Press acknowledges the financial assistance to its publishing program of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council. This book has been published with the help of a grant from the Canadian Federation for the Humanities and Social Sciences, through the Aid to Scholarly Publications Program, using funds provided by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. University of Toronto Press acknowledges the financial support for its publishing activities of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP).

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For my son and daughter, Matthew and Sophie Wilson

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Contents

List of Illustrations

ix

Preface

xi

Acknowledgments A Note on the Text

xxiii xxv

Frequently Mentioned Names

xxvii

Langton Family Tree

xxxiii

Abbreviations

xxxv

Introduction Letters, 1834–1835 Journals and Letters, 1837 Journals and Letters, 1838 Journals and Letters, 1839 Journals and Letters, 1840 Journals and Letters, 1841 Journals and Letters, 1842 Letters, 1843 Notes and Letters, 1844–1845 Journals, Letters, and Notes, 1846–1847 Afterword

3 107 111 166 197 270 309 340 366 373 377 391

Works Cited

399

Illustration Credits

415

Index

417

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List of Illustrations

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

Anne Langton, 1840 Fenelon Falls, c. 1839 John Langton, ‘Diagram of Part of the Newcastle District,’ 1833 Anne Langton, 1826 Gordale, c. 1875 Miss Currer, 1835 Mrs Thomas Langton, c. 1833 My Father and John [Thomas and John Langton], c. 1836 William Langton, 1831 (?1833) My Sister-in-Law before She Was Married, 1831 John Langton, 1845 Mrs John Langton, 1845 Niagara from the Canadian Side, 1837 Near Brin Ganno, c. 1834 Landing at Blythe, 1837 Indian Encampment near Blythe, c. 1839 Interior of John’s House Looking North, 1837 Interior, John’s House Looking South, 1837 Candle-Making Machine, 1846 Blythe, 1837 or 1838 Blythe, 1841 Family Party at Blythe, 1842 Church, Fenelon Falls, c. 1839 From the Church, Northwards, Fenelon Falls, c. 1839 Backwoodsman in His Winter Costume, c. 1838 At Peterboro, 1837 Sturgeon Lake from Blythe, c. 1839

ii xxxvi 4 14 18 21 22 24 25 26 52 54 60 61 62 64 66 66 67 70 71 72 73 74–5 76 142 182

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Apologia xi

Preface

Anne Langton (1804–93), gentlewoman, artist, and pioneer settler, is best known for A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada: The Journals of Anne Langton, a volume that chronicles almost a decade (1837–46) of her family’s experience as settlers at Sturgeon Lake, near Fenelon Falls, Upper Canada (now Ontario). A posthumously published edition of her letters and journals, the volume was edited by Hugh Hornby Langton, her last surviving Canadian nephew, and was published in Toronto in 1950.1 That volume now being out of print, publication of a revised and expanded edition is timely. As editor of Langton’s work, I have three primary aims: to introduce her unique voice and vision to a fresh audience in the twenty-first century (while reacquainting earlier readers with her work); to present her work within a broader context than was previously possible; and to expand access to her writings that were omitted from the H.H. Langton edition. Langton’s letters and journals are important primary sources on women’s experiences, including self-inscription in writing and visual arts, as well as subjects such as early emigration, pioneer settlement, and community development in Upper Canada. With respect to my primary focus and fuller text, I alert readers to an initial printing of Anne Langton’s letters and journals in 1904. Entitled Langton Records: Journals and Letters from Canada, 1837–1846, that volume was edited by Ellen Josephine Philips, one of Langton’s English nieces (the second of six daughters of Anne Langton’s older brother, William).2 Printed in limited edition, ‘for private circulation only,’ it was distributed to an exclusive audience of family members and close friends. As my base text for the present edition, I have taken Hugh Hornby Langton’s edition of A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada but have expanded it significantly by including material from Philips’s version that he chose to omit.

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Philips and H.H. Langton each had access to their aunt’s original letters and journals, which were sent to William’s family as a chronicle of the ‘emigrés’ Langtons’ settler experiences.3 In contrast, despite some forty years of research in Canada and England, I have found no trace of Anne Langton’s original letters and journals. I was more fortunate when it came to her artwork. Although not a single piece of her embroidery work has come to light, I have located a large number of Langton’s other artworks, from juvenilia to material culture produced during the last decade of life. Her visual oeuvre consists of miniatures on ivory, pen and graphite drawings, watercolour sketches, and hand-painted decorative designs on delicate porcelain pieces. Although both Langton Records and Hugh Hornby Langton’s edition of A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada were illustrated with sketches and portraits by Anne Langton, most of her work remained unknown to the public until I curated an exhibition of Langton’s works for the Web site of the Archives of Ontario (2003)4 and another, Sketches by Anne Langton: Fenelon Falls, Bobcaygeon and Peterborough, 1837–1852, for the Lindsay Art Gallery (2004).5 Prior to these exhibitions, reproduction and exhibits of Langton’s art were found mostly in articles or exhibitions featuring multiple artists.6 Langton’s writing and art remained unpublished during her lifetime, unlike that of her more well-known contemporaries Susanna Moodie and Catharine Parr Traill (the Strickland sisters) and Anna Jameson, whose works were published in Canada, the United States, and England.7 Langton never sought commercial sales, exhibition, or publication of her writing and artwork. As a result, while she certainly had talents that would have served her well in a professional capacity as writer and artist, her work was unavailable for public and critical scrutiny until the second half of the twentieth century and has never been as widely known as it deserves. Nor has extensive critical work been done on her life or work, though A Gentlewoman and some of her artwork are cited in a number of books and journals, mainly in relation to pioneering life, social history, and antique furniture.8 By revising and expanding the first published edition of A Gentlewoman to include both a biographical overview and some of Langton’s never-before-published sketches and miniatures, I hope to increase awareness of her life and work. A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada, a steady seller over more than four decades after its publication in 1950, was also published in paperback in 1964 without illustrations other than the small image on the front cover – a cameo of one of Langton’s early self-portraits, superimposed on a background forest scene. Paperback reprints occurred in 1966, 1967, and 1985. The 1985 cover features a self-portrait (1833) that represents Langton at a time closer to emigration. I have selected this latter image for the cover of the present edition.

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I retain the title A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada, as it so aptly and immediately conjures up the writer herself as well as her context and era. It also highlights the primary perspective from which I view Langton: as a quintessential representative of the word ‘gentlewoman.’ At first glance, the title might beg the question, ‘Were there any gentlewomen in early Upper Canada?’ Closer scrutiny of pertinent scholarship reveals that, indeed, although a minority among immigrants and settlers, female members of the gentrified classes were among the prominent inhabitants of the provinces of both Upper and Lower Canada.9 During the early years of white European settlement, many of the genteel women in Upper Canada were temporary visitors, wives of official dignitaries or of militia officers. Elizabeth Simcoe (wife of Governor John Graves Simcoe) and Anna Jameson (wife of Attorney-General Robert Sympson Jameson) are prominent examples of such residents.10 Some female visitors wrote of their impressions and experiences, but their writings largely remained unpublished until the twentieth century. These ‘visitor’ voices include those of Simcoe, Jane Ellice, Lady Durham, Juliana Horatia Ewing, Frances Anne Hopkins, and Lady Dufferin.11 By the time of Langton’s arrival in the province in 1837, a significant number of genteel women were permanent settlers. To the voices of Traill, Moodie, and Langton, we can add those of Frances Stewart, Mary O’Brien, and, in Lower Canada, Lucy Peel.12 The majority of these women, whether visitors or ‘permanent’ settlers, wrote for themselves and their families, but a few, such as Traill, Moodie, and Jameson, wrote specifically for publication in their lifetimes.13 For this new edition of A Gentlewoman, I have made use of primary Langton family manuscript materials held in private collections and public institutions in England and Canada. Two privately printed Langton family titles yielded valuable background information. The Story of Our Family is Anne Langton’s family memoir, which she wrote in 1879 at the age of seventy-five and which her English nieces and nephews arranged to have printed, without her prior knowledge.14 Letters of Thomas Langton to Mrs. Thomas Hornby, 1815 to 1818, edited by E.J. Philips, reproduces the letters from Anne’s father to his sister, Cicely.15 Yet another Langton volume originates with Anne’s younger brother, John. Early Days in Upper Canada: The Letters of John Langton from the Backwoods of Upper Canada and the Audit Office of the Province of Canada16 was edited by John Langton’s third son, William A. Langton, and was the first Langton material printed in Canada and the first to be formally published anywhere. Each of these three volumes is illustrated with sketches and portraits by Anne Langton. The provenance of the original primary materials can be traced as they

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were handed down to Langton’s nephews and nieces in the form of family papers: letters, notebooks, journals, maps, by various family members, as well as artwork by Anne. After 1933 most of these items were donated by Langton descendants to various Canadian public institutions. Some of John Langton’s letters and maps survive, and much of Anne’s artwork is now held in public institutions in Canada, although some remains in private hands in England and Canada.17 In addition to consulting the above sources, my introduction to the present edition of Anne Langton’s journals and letters addresses key changes in critical discourse that have occurred since the original publication of A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada more than fifty years ago. This new edition will appeal to an audience with an interest in social history as well as in feminist historical studies in the fields of literature and fine art. Successive waves of the women’s movement in Canada, with their extensive cultural and social influences and implications, opened up new avenues of exploration and analysis in feminist critical research and scholarship.18 Present-day readers live in a postcolonial era in which earlier imperial interpretations – which classified cultures and peoples according to hierarchical theories of dominance and subordination – have been called into question. It is appropriate, therefore, to revisit Langton’s text in light of these developments. Recent analyses of the effects of gender, class, and race on individual and societal norms have also resulted in shifting perspectives within cultural studies.19 These evolving insights further justify re-examination of Langton and her work. I support Jane Errington’s claim that the absence of women from most early official records has been largely responsible for ‘the unspoken belief of some that, then as now, what has traditionally been considered “women’s work” had little or no redeeming social or economic value’ and that women, therefore, have not been regarded as ‘materially aid[ing] the development of the colony.’20 Anne Langton’s body of work is testament to the value of female settlers in establishing order and coherence and facilitating community and cultural development within early Canadian society. Thus, there is continuing value in the preservation of her writing and art, which form important resources for current and future study. I shall focus on the significance of Langton’s work primarily in terms of life writing and visual art disciplines within Upper Canada, especially in relation to the historical condition of women participants in those fields. As Errington has pointed out, ‘the voices of [early Canadian] women themselves ... sometimes in harmony, but often in counterpoint, echoed the complexity of life and experience shared by all in the colony.’21 I also suggest the relevance

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of Langton’s life and work in connection to several other disciplines: early Canadian emigration, settlement, education, medicine, First Peoples, community, social and cultural development, and travel and tourism. While pointing readers to titles for study in these areas, I do not engage in any depth in the critical debate within these fields. To do so would detract from my primary purpose and result in far too lengthy a book. I leave it to other scholars to examine the significance of Langton’s text for those fields. Similarly, while I briefly describe in my annotations events and people referred to in the letters, I do not focus in detail on background history or politics. The primary lens through which I filter my interpretation of Langton and her work is that of the societal code of genteel conduct that came to the fore in Britain sometime around the end of the seventeenth century, increased in significance during the eighteenth century, and reached its zenith in the middle years of Victorian England. I examine this phenomenon in detail in the introduction. Suffice it to say here that this unofficial code ascribed differing, usually diametrically opposed, characteristics to the two sexes: men were seen as active, strong, courageous; women, in contrast, as passive, weak, dependent. These characteristics were considered to be ‘essentially’ (that is, biologically) determined and therefore ‘natural’ and so inarguable.22 The result was a hierarchical ordering of social relations within the genteel classes, with unofficially ascribed roles and status for each gender: men were public figures, societal arbiters; women were private tenders of family, hearth, and home. It is my contention that these beliefs greatly influenced Langton’s personal development, her identity, and the entire course of her life and work. Close readings of her journals, letters, and family memoir support this interpretation. It is true that, as a result of emigration and settlement in the New World, she came to question some precepts and practices of the genteel code, but she consciously trod a fine line between adopting new behaviours and adhering to the social tenets and patterns according to which she had been raised. It would take the active determination of subsequent generations of women over the next one hundred and more years to successfully challenge the ideology of broad ‘natural’ differences between the sexes and offer, in its stead, the view that proscribed gender roles are in large part socially and culturally determined. By bringing Anne Langton’s writings and visual art – and, through them, her inner conflicts, partial transcendence of circumstances, and qualified modification of her behaviour – to the forefront, I aim to realize a subtle, nuanced portrait of this particular gentlewoman, to reflect the lights and

xvi Preface

shades of her responses in all their complexities. I also hope such a reading and viewing of her oeuvre, will inspire others to delve more deeply into the records left by women of all classes in early Canadian society, to reveal further details of their experiences and contributions, and thus fill out the historical canvas of their times more richly, providing us with a fuller understanding of our early cultural roots. Two further clarifications are in order with regard to my interpretation of Anne Langton’s life and work. In studying a person’s life, any patterns that emerge are seldom attributable to single causes. To borrow a phrase from medical and social sciences: effects are almost invariably overdetermined – that is, no single root cause can be viewed as a sole contributing factor in a person’s development. I am highly conscious of the need to allow for ambiguity, complexity, paradox, even occasional inconsistencies, in discussing the life, work, and times of an individual. Life abounds in contradictions. As Gustave Flaubert observed, the only worthwhile conclusion is that it is futile to try to come to conclusions.23 Provisional conclusions are the best we can hope for in a pluralistic world of multiple ethnic and cultural diversities, with its varying viewpoints and backgrounds. Each scholarly generation builds on foundations laid by previous workers; each scholar contributes only a portion to overall knowledge and discernment. With these qualifications in mind, I present my perspectives on Anne Langton’s life and work in the introduction and notes to this volume. A word about the circumstances in which these journals and letters were produced and conveyed: it is well to remind ourselves that mail communication between Upper Canada and Britain in the 1800s was a drawn-out process carried out via horse, wagon, train, and ocean-going ship. Mail conveyance between the two continents often took weeks, sometimes months. In Upper Canada, adverse weather conditions, poor road and lake conditions in certain seasons, and comparative slowness of conveyance and delivery in a country with a broadly scattered population and few post offices were just some of the obstacles to communication. Immigrants, including the Langtons, sometimes sent word to loved ones in the Old Country via acquaintances who were journeying across the Atlantic.24 These missives, too, could be delayed by long voyages, a change in the bearer’s plans, misplacement, or loss. Long delays heightened the significance of receiving letters once they eventually arrived. Postage costs were based on number of sheets, weight, and distance. To save on expense, pages were often crammed full with tightly written script that was sometimes ‘crossed’ – that is, written in two directions (first horizontally, then vertically across the first lines). On many counts,

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then, senders and recipients had to exercise great patience in their efforts to keep in touch after emigration.25 To clarify relationships within the Langton family, a section of the Langton family ‘pedigree’ is provided in the preliminary materials (see page xxxiii). Other persons mentioned frequently in the journals and letters are identified (where possible) in the list of frequently mentioned names, the introduction, or the annotations. I also provide an afterword outlining the second half of Anne Langton’s life (1847–93).

NOTES 1 Anne Langton, A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada: The Journals of Anne Langton, ed. Hugh Hornby Langton. Hugh Hornby Langton (1862–1953) was the youngest child and fifth son of Anne Langton’s younger brother, John, and his wife, Lydia (née Dunsford). He studied law at the University of Toronto, where he later served as chief librarian (1892–1923). Co-founder of the Review of Historical Publications Relating to Canada (now, Canadian Historical Review), he wrote biographies of James Loudon, Sir Daniel Wilson, Sir John McLennan, and James Douglas. For further details, see Robert H. Blackburn, Evolution of the Heart, 101–30. 2 Anne Langton, Langton Records: Journals and Letters from Canada, 1837–1846, ed. E.J. Philips. The textual histories of the H.H. Langton and E.J. Philips editions are discussed in the note on the text following the acknowledgments to the present volume. 3 In his preface, H.H. Langton states that the correspondence was eventually transmitted by William’s heirs to the Canadian members of the family. Anne Langton, Gentlewoman, xv. 4 Barbara Williams, Anne Langton: Gentlewoman, Pioneer Settler, and Artist. 5 Barbara Williams, Sketches by Anne Langton. 6 In addition to the titles cited in notes 4 and 5, Langton is also discussed in the following works: J. Russell Harper, Early Painters and Engravers in Canada, 188; Barbara Williams, ‘Anne Langton,’ Dictionary of Canadian Biography (hereafter DCB), 12: 523–7; Rosemary Ball, ‘“A Perfect Farmer’s Wife”: Women in 19th Century Rural Ontario’; E. Jane Errington, Wives and Mothers, School Mistresses and Scullery Maids; N.E.S. Griffiths, Penelope’s Web, ch. 6; Beth Light and Alison Prentice, eds., Pioneer and Gentlewomen of British North America, 1713–1867, ch. 2; Helen E. Smith and Lisa M. Sullivan, ‘“Now that I know how to manage”: Work and Identity in the Journals of Anne Langton.’ For further discussion of

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7

8

9

10

Langton’s life and work see Barbara [Williams] Wilson, ‘Anne Langton,’ in Portraits: Peterborough Area Women Past and Present, 54–64; Williams, Anne Langton: Pioneer Woman and Artist; Wilson, ‘“Strangers in a Strange Land”: Literary Use of Canadian Landscape by Five Genteel Settlers.’ Exhibitions of Langton’s art have focused primarily on her work in the Fenelon Falls area: Fenelon Falls (1983, 1986); the Lindsay Gallery (December 1981–January 1982; December 1983–January 1984); Sault Ste Marie, Art Gallery of Algoma (9 August–2 September 1984); Toronto, Sigmund Samuel Gallery, Royal Ontario Museum, Two Gentlewomen in Upper Canada (16 June–18 September 1977), curated by Helen Ignatieff; Unionville, Varley Gallery, Three Graces Remembered: Charlotte Price, Catherine Reynolds, and Anne Langton (22 January– 26 March 2006), curated by Alison Kenzie. Three of Langton’s sketches were included in the exhibition From Women’s Eyes: Women Painting in Canada, at the Agnes Etherington Art Centre (12 December 1975–1 February 1976), curated by Dorothy Farr and Natalie Luckyj. Four of her works were included in the exhibition From the Four Quarters: Native and European Art in Ontario 5000 BC to 1867 AD, at the Art Gallery of Ontario (March 30–May 20 1984), curated by Dennis Reid and Joan Murray. See Susanna Moodie, Roughing It in the Bush, or Forest Life in Canada; Moodie, Life in the Clearings; also see Carl P.A. Ballstadt, ‘Strickland, Susanna (Moodie),’ DCB 11: 857–61; Catharine Parr Traill, The Backwoods of Canada; Traill, The Canadian Settler’s Guide; Michael A. Peterman, ‘Strickland, Catharine Parr (Traill),’ DCB 12: 995–9; Anna Jameson, Winter Studies and Summer Rambles in Canada; see also Clara Thomas, ‘Brownell, Anna Murphy (Jameson), DCB 8: 649–51. References to Langton, her writing and art, are found in several specialized historical studies, including Marian MacRae, The Ancestral Roof, 106; G.H. Needler, Otonabee Pioneers (see ch. 7, ‘The Sturgeon Lake Group,’ 156–71); Philip Shackleton, The Furniture of Old Ontario, 31–3; Eve Zaremba, The Privilege of Sex, 3–5, 9–31; Maria Tippett, By a Lady. See, for example, Helen M. Buss, Mapping Our Selves; Errington, Wives and Mothers; J.K. Johnson and Bruce G. Wilson, eds., Historical Essays on Upper Canada, which includes the essay by Katherine M.J. McKenna, ‘Options for Elite Women in Early Upper Canadian Society: The Case of the Powell Family,’ 401–23; Barbara Maas, Helpmates of Man; Katherine M.J. McKenna, A Life of Propriety. For Elizabeth Simcoe, see Edith G. Firth, ‘Elizabeth Gwillim (Simcoe,)’ DCB 7: 361–3. Jameson, already separated from her husband when she arrived in Upper Canada, came in hope of either reviving the marriage or divorcing with prudent provision of a financial agreement to secure her future economic security. The

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11

12

13

14 15 16

17

latter proved to be the final outcome. She thereafter led an independent life as an early feminist art and literary critic. See (in chronological sequence of arrival in Canada) Elizabeth Simcoe, Mrs. Simcoe’s Diary; Lady Durham, Letters and Diaries of Lady Durham; Jane Ellice, The Diary of Jane Ellice; Juliana Horatia Ewing, Canada Home: Juliana Horatia Ewing’s Fredericton Letters; and her Illustrated News: Juliana Horatia Ewing’s Canadian Pictures; Lady Dufferin, My Canadian Journal, 1872–1878. See also Desmond Pacey with additions by Judith St John, ‘Gatty, Juliana Horatia (Ewing),’ DCB 11: 333–4. See Frances Stewart, Our Forest Home; see also G. de T. Glazebrook, ‘Browne, Frances (Stewart),’ DCB 10: 104–5; Mary O’Brien, The Journals of Mary O’Brien; Lucy Peel, Love Strong as Death. Although the Peels came with the intention of settling, they returned to England after only three years. Like Anne Langton’s writing, most of the above-named diaries and journals were published posthumously, including those by Simcoe, Stewart, O’Brien, Ellice, Durham, Peel, Ewing, and Dufferin. Their voices remained silent until later generations of scholars rediscovered them, from about 1965 onwards, contemporaneously with the earliest feminist studies of women’s work. Frances Stewart’s and Anne Langton’s work are, to some extent, exceptions. Stewart’s letters were published in 1898, edited by one of her daughters; Langton’s appeared in 1950, edited by her last surviving nephew. Lucy Peel’s work is a further exception in that it was edited by a male scholar, J.I. Little. For further discussion of Simcoe, Traill, Moodie, Jameson, and Dufferin, see Marian Fowler, The Embroidered Tent. Other useful titles include: Susanna Moodie, Susanna Moodie: Letters of a Lifetime; and Charlotte Gray, Sisters in the Wilderness. For wider, though less in-depth, representation of pioneer women writers in Canada and other colonial countries, see Jane Robinson, ed., Parrot Pie for Breakfast, which includes writing by Anne Langton and other Canadian pioneer settler women. Anne Langton, The Story of Our Family. Langton wrote this memoir at the request of her nieces and nephews in England and Canada. Thomas Langton, Letters of Thomas Langton to Mrs. Thomas Hornby 1815 to 1818. John Langton, Early Days in Upper Canada. William Alexander Langton (1854–1933), the editor of John Langton’s volume, was an architect in Toronto. A founding member of the Ontario Association of Architects, he was its president for a time. He was also a founding member and sometime president of the Arts and Letters Club of Toronto, which still exists today. For extant letters from and maps by John Langton to his family, see the Archives of Ontario, 1, Correspondence, John Langton family fonds (hereafter

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18

19

20 21 22

JLFF), F 1077-1, MU 1690, envs. 1–6. Public institutions holding artworks by Anne Langton include: Archives of Ontario; Corporation of the City of Kawartha Lakes; Library and Archives Canada; Peterborough Public Library; Peterborough Centennial Museum and Archives; Toronto Reference Library, Thomas Fisher Rare Books Room; University of Toronto, University College; University of Toronto, University of Toronto Archives; St James Anglican Church, Fenelon Falls; St John’s Anglican Church, Peterborough. For detailed discussion of first-wave feminism in Canada and the Western world see particularly, Jennifer Henderson, Settler Feminism and Race Making in Canada; on first- and second-wave feminism, see Carol Lee Bacchi, Same Difference. Bacchi identifies early second-wave feminism as beginning in the 1960s and 1970s. On gender and class issues, as well as the code of gentility, seminal works include: Harriet Blodgett, Centuries of Female Days; Leonore Davidoff and Catherine Hall, Family Fortunes; Ann Douglas, The Feminization of American Culture; Errington, Wives and Mothers; N.E.S. Griffiths, Penelope’s Web; A. James Hammerton, Emigrant Gentlewomen; Mary Hartman and Lois W. Banner, eds., Clio’s Consciousness Raised (see especially Patricia Branca, ‘Image and Reality: The Myth of the Idle Victorian Woman’; Beth Light and Alison Prentice, Pioneer and Gentlewomen; J.I. Little, The Child Letters; Little, Love Strong as Death; Maas, Helpmates of Man; McKenna, A Life of Propriety; Mary Poovey, The Proper Lady and the Woman Writer; Katherine M. Rogers, The Troublesome Helpmate, see esp. ch. 7, ‘The Drooping Lily: The Nineteenth Century,’ 189–225); Sylvia Van Kirk, ‘Many Tender Ties’; Martha Vicinus, Independent Women; Amanda Vickery, The Gentleman’s Daughter; Barbara Welter, ‘The Cult of True Womanhood, 1820–1860’; Mrs West, Letters to a Young Lady in Which the Duties and Character of Women Are Considered, Chiefly with Reference to Prevailing Opinions; Eve Zaremba, Privilege of Sex. With regard to Native issues, see especially Olive Dickason, Canada’s First Nations; F.W. Hodge, Handbook of the Indians of Canada; Keith Hollinshead, ‘White Gaze, “Red” People – Shadow Visions: The Disidentification of “Indians” in Cultural Tourism’; Patricia Jasen, Wild Things; Watson Kirkconnell, County of Victoria Centennial History; John Langton, Early Days; Mary Pratt, Imperial Eyes; Donald B. Smith, ‘The Dispossession of the Mississauga Indians: A Missing Chapter in the Early History of Upper Canada,’ in Johnson and Wilson, eds., Historical Essays on Upper Canada, 23–51; Valene L. Smith, Hosts and Guests; Bruce Trigger, ed., Handbook of North American Indians, vol. 15. Errington, Wives and Mothers, xiii. Ibid., xiv. For useful discussion of these views see, e.g., Buss, Mapping Ourselves: Maas,

Preface xxi Helpmates of Man; Rozsika Parker and Griselda Pollock, Old Mistresses; Amanda Vickery, The Gentleman’s Daughter. 23 Gustave Flaubert to Louis Bouilhet Damas, 4 September 1850, Extraits de la Correspondance ou Préface a la Vie d’Écrivain (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1963), 52. The actual quotation is ‘L’ineptie consiste à vouloir conclure ... Oui, la bêtise consiste à vouloir conclure. Nous sommes un fil et nous voulons savoir la trame.’ (It is foolishness to want to come to conclusions ... Yes, stupidity to want to come to conclusions. We are but a thread, yet we want to understand the web.) 24 For such experiences, see Fitzpatrick, Oceans of Consolation, passim. 25 See Cameron, Haines, and Maude, English Immigrant Voices, xxxiv-xxxv.

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Acknowledgments

The present book is the culmination of research conducted over more than four decades in England and Canada. Numerous people at many institutions have greatly facilitated my research. They include: at the Archives of Ontario, Archivist of Ontario Miriam McTiernan, John Barton, Karen Bergsteinsson, Craig Brown, John Dirks, Mary Ledwell, Iona McCraith, Wendy McPhee, Allan MacDonald, Andrea Robbins, Anastasia Rogers, Jan Rollins, Paul Thomas, Leon Warmski; at the Edward P. Taylor Library, Art Gallery of Ontario, Randall Speller, who has always indefatigably and meticulously responded to my queries; and staff (and, in some cases, volunteers) at The Grange (Art Gallery of Ontario); Library and Archives Canada; the Municipal Office of Fenelon Falls; the Fenelon Falls Museum; Peterborough Centennial Museum and Archives; the City of Kawartha Lakes Records and Archives Facility (Lindsay, Ontario); Metropolitan Toronto Reference Library; Native Canadian Centre of Toronto; Royal Ontario Museum; at the University of Toronto, Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library, University College Archives, and University of Toronto Archives and Records Management Services; and at the Women’s Art Association of Canada (Toronto headquarters). I am grateful for particularly useful discussions with the following colleagues and associates: Marian Fowler, Carolyn Gossage, Dawn Logan, Joyce Lewis, John Parry, Rosemary Shipton, David Wistow, Robert Wuetherick. My introduction has benefited greatly from the fine editing skills of Pamela Watts and my daughter, Sophie Wilson. Marian Hebb, counsel to the Writers’ Union of Canada, offered invaluable guidance. My daughter-in-law, Nezik Tahri, computerized the section of the Langton family pedigree. Other individuals who provided me with information and/or encouragement along the way include: Ian and Daphne Angus, Vera Burne, Grace Barker, Barbara Birley, Jo and Peter Breyfogle, Anna Cara, the late Noel

xxiv Acknowledgments

Currer-Briggs, Michael Croudson, Jennifer Dales, Eric Fink, Patrick Garland, Jacqueline Gibbons, the late Michael Langton, Brenda and Alan Leadbetter, Richard Lecours, Peggy and Arthur Long, John Millyard, Helen and Tom Morley, Helen, Peter, and Karin Mussen, Kathryn Penwill, Elisavietta Ritchie, Anne Lumbreras, Maria Salmon, Karen Shadford, Dwight SymsWilson. I also wish to express my appreciation for particularly pertinent encouragement to my work from the late Mrs C.D.H. (Lena) MacAlpine, my ‘direct’ Canadian link with the Langtons, who inspired Hugh Hornby Langton to edit his aunt’s journals, and the late Thomas York, whose unfailing belief in this project made a crucial difference at a decisive stage. At the University of Toronto Press, I am indebted to my editor Siobhan McMenemy for steering me adeptly and conscientiously through the various stages of manuscript preparation and to managing editor Frances Mundy for her careful guidance. I also acknowledge the diligent copyediting of Barbara Tessman. My appreciation also goes to the anonymous readers for the Humanities and Social Sciences Federation of Canada and to members of the University of Toronto Academic Review Board for their helpful comments and suggestions, as well as to members of the Aid to Scholarly Publications Program Committee. The two people who have accompanied me longest on this journey have been my son and daughter, Matthew and Sophie Wilson. On a day soon after our own arrival in Canada in 1966, their pre-school eagerness for us to look at library books together led me to select my book with less deliberation than usual. I simply picked up a volume whose title – A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada – appealed to me. It captivated me then; the contents have fascinated me ever since.

Preface xxv

A Note on the Text

First, a note on terminology: ‘letters,’ ‘journal letters,’ and ‘journals’ are used by both E.J. Philips and H.H. Langton in their headings. Letter and journal are self-explanatory. The journal letter, however, is used when the writer begins a letter, but adds later ‘entries’ over several days (or, occasionally, over a week or so). Each of the additional entries in a given journal letter begins with the date – for example, ‘December 15,’ ‘December 11.’ When Anne later writes her formal journals (from October 1838), however, the entries begin with the day of the week as well as the date – for example, ‘Saturday, October 6.’ In the journal letter, entries are sometimes only sporadic. In the formal journals, Anne attempts to keep to the discipline of daily entries. Vexing lacunae occur in any life story, not just those based on fragile documents produced more than 150 years ago and sent across the ocean. Editing results in still more gaps, and lack of original manuscript documents means such gaps cannot always be closed. My aim has been recovery and restoration of original text wherever possible, filling in gaps as feasible, and dovetailing the two earlier printed versions of Anne Langton’s letters and journals into a new edition drawing on all known sources. Recovered material and variant texts are indicated by the annotation ‘recovered material’ in the corresponding footnote, along with first and last words/phrases of the reinserted passage. In instances where H.H. Langton omits or substitutes only a single word, phrase, or line, I do not point up his omissions. Although H.H. Langton’s edition is my base text, I retain the letter headings from E.J. Philips’s edition, as being, perhaps, closest to Anne Langton’s original presentation. These indicate the writer, recipient, date, and place, where supplied. Editorial comments occasionally appear within the body of the text. Those

xxvi A Note on the Text

created by E.J. Philips but not found in the H.H. Langton edition are indicated by ‘(EP)’; those created by Philips and retained by H.H. Langton are indicated by ‘(EP; HHL)’, those created by the present editor are marked ‘(BW).’ I mostly retain spellings from Philips’s edition, especially with regard to names of persons and places. Chronologically, Philips had closer contact with Anne Langton’s era, as well as access to her original letters and, therefore, to her stylistic preferences and practices. Likewise, I usually retain the punctuation found in Philips. I occasionally (and silently) amend spelling and punctuation to clarify meaning. I mostly retain H.H. Langton’s paragraphing, as Philips’s edition has few paragraph breaks (likely reflecting Anne Langton’s material). Where I recovered material from Philips’s text only, I occasionally inserted extra paragraph breaks. In the case of Ellen Langton’s journal, which is almost devoid of paragraphing, I retain the breaks as found in H.H. Langton’s version. Ellen Langton seldom employs terminal punctuation other than the dash, so her sentences often run together. H.H. Langton altered the punctuation in many instances to facilitate readability. I retain most of his changes. Ellen frequently capitalizes nouns (customary in the eighteenth century, the era in which she was educated). H.H. Langton dispenses with these capitalizations. I retain them so as to remain faithful to her personal style. Ellen often writes in short phrases, as if making notes, so I occasionally add a word or phrase in square brackets to clarify the meaning. In instances where I make an interpolation of my own (e.g., for clarification purposes) into Philips’s or H.H. Langton’s text, I enclose my interpolation within square brackets. Similarly, where I have omitted material, I enclose an ellipsis in square brackets. The two earlier printed primary texts included footnotes. I retain these, beginning each with ‘original notation’ and indicating the source (i.e., EP and/or HHL). Annotation in the present volume has been considerably expanded to render the text more accessible to later generations. Items – people, places, events – of contextual significance are pointed up. I do not, however, annotate every name, place, or event. Full bibliographical details are omitted from annotations but are given in the works cited at the end of the book. As was suggested earlier, Anne Langton often worked on more than one version of a particular subject or scene. In some of these instances, there are variant titles of a given subject. Titles given here correspond to those found in the particular collection from which the reproduction was made.

Preface xxvii

Frequently Mentioned Names

Anne Langton’s Family Thomas – father; died in 1838 in Upper Canada Ellen – mother; died in 1846 in Upper Canada William – eldest brother; resided in Manchester John – brother on whose property Anne, Thomas, and Ellen Langton and Alice Currer settled in Upper Canada; married Lydia Dunsford in 1845 Alice Currer – aunt; sister of Ellen, who lived with family at Blythe Farm; died in 1846 in Upper Canada Margaret: sister-in-law; wife of William Alice Langton – niece; eldest daughter of William and Margaret; also mentioned are her younger sisters Ellen, Anna Margaret, and Katharine Elizabeth, and a younger brother, Henry Currer Zachary Langton – brother of Thomas; resided in London Acquaintances in Upper Canada William Allen – a tailor, who lived on northeast quarter of Lot 18, Concession 1, Verulam Township; married a widow from the United States, one of whose sons, William Dick, was a servant of the Langtons for a number of years; another son, George, was also briefly in their service

xxviii Frequently Mentioned Names

Richard Atthill – graduate of Trinity College, Dublin; purchased Lot 11, Concession 3, Verulam Township; with James Wallis, Robert Dennistoun, Robert Jameson, and John Langton, early fundraiser for the first church in Fenelon Falls; gave up farming in 1838 and ultimately returned to Ireland Mossom Boyd – emigrated from Ireland in 1834; settled midway between Bobcaygeon and Sturgeon Point; bought Thomas Need’s mill; in partnership with John Langton and James Dunsford in the lumbering business, late 1840s–early 1850s; married to Caroline Dunsford, daughter of Rev. and Mrs Dunsford, in 1844 Henry and Angel[ine] Junkin Brandon: – neighbours; servants of the Langtons for a number of years, after replacing William Ellis and his wife, Ann (née Junkin, Angel’s sister) in 1841 Alexander and Mrs Daniel – neighbours of the Langtons; Alexander emigrated from Scotland Robert and Maxwell Hamilton Dennistoun – Maxwell Hamilton was a daughter of Major Hamilton; she married Robert Dennistoun in 1839; Robert settled on Cameron Lake c. 1835; later studied law and became a QC; moved to Peterborough sometime in 1840s, where he became a county judge; fundraiser for the church at Fenelon Falls Dr Diehl – absentee owner of Lot 15, Concession 10, Verulam Township, adjoining John Langton’s property; lived in Toronto Captain Francis and Mrs Dobbs – settlers in Fenelon Township, Lot 23, Concession 7 Ferguson and Mrs Duke – neighbours of the Langtons Hamilton Dundas – fellow genteel settler in the same region Rev. and Mrs James Hartley Dunsford – emigrated to Bobcaygeon area in 1838, with five sons and five daughters; the Beehive log house was built for the family; daughter Lydia married John Langton in 1845; Rev. and Mrs Dunsford moved to Peterborough, mid-1840s

Frequently Mentioned Names xxix

William Ellis – neighbour and sometime employee of the Langtons; located on east half of Lot 17, Concession 1, Verulam Township, by 1840; formally purchased this land from John Langton in 1844 Mr and Mrs Fidler – Mr Fidler, a minister, was the first incumbent at the church at Fenelon Falls Mr and Mrs Fortye – son-in-law and daughter of Major Hamilton; Mr Fortye managed the major’s brewery and distillery in Peterborough Mr and Mrs Fraser – lived on the south shore of Sturgeon Lake; Mr Fraser was formerly in the British military; received free land grants of Lot 11, Concession 6, Lot 12, Concession 6, Verulam Township, and Lot 14, Concession 3, Fenelon Township Gavin (Gawin) Hamilton – son of Major Hamilton; took up his father’s grant of land on Cameron Lake Maggie Hamilton – youngest daughter of Major and Mrs Hamilton; occasionally stayed at Blythe Farm Major and Mrs Hamilton – Major Hamilton, of the 78th and 79th Highlanders, originally settled in Peterborough, where he owned a sawmill, gristmill, distillery and brewery; also owned a grant of land on Cameron Lake, which on his death in 1836 passed to his son Gavin; Mrs Hamilton and some of her younger children lived with Gavin after her husband’s death Mr and Mrs Hoare – neighbours of the Langtons; Robert Jameson’s fatherand mother-in-law; following Jameson’s departure from Upper Canada, the Hoares lived in his former house Robert Jameson (incorrect variant spelling of Jamieson in journals) – scion of Irish distillery family; Cambridge graduate; tried unsuccessfully to encourage poor settlers to emigrate and buy land from him; lived in Fenelon Falls; with James Wallis and Alexander McAndrew, was appointed one of three local magistrates; partner with Wallis in land transactions and business enterprises at Fenelon Falls, including a mill and a store; by 1835, owned some 12,000 acres (some in partnership with Wallis); early fundraiser for the church at Fenelon Falls; permanently left Upper Canada in 1842

xxx Frequently Mentioned Names

Sally Jordan – neighbour who helped with work at Blythe; married a Mr Woods in 1840 William and Mrs Jordan – neighbours of the Langtons; located on north half of Lot 18, Verulam Township (to north of Ellis family) William MacCredie – bought land on Sturgeon Lake in 1834; returned to England in 1836 Alexander McAndrew (also M’Andrew) – close friend of John Langton; emigrated from Aberdeen, Scotland, in 1833; settled opposite Sturgeon Point; appointed one of three local magistrates; left Upper Canada for England in the mid-1830s Mr McCall – purchased land on south shore of Sturgeon Lake in 1834; returned to England by August 1835 Major James McLaren (also M’Laren) – neighbour of the Langtons; superintended the mills at Fenelon on behalf of James Wallis John Menzies – neighbour of the Langtons; bought west half of Lot 17, Concession 1, Verulam Township, from John Langton, for whom he worked as hired help; his two daughters were Anne Langton’s first pupils at her home school at Blythe Farm; family left the area in 1841 Thomas Need – neighbour; graduate of Oxford University; emigrated in 1832; settled on north shore of Sturgeon Lake, near Bobcaygeon; established a sawmill and store at Bobcaygeon in the mid-1830s; author, Six Years in the Bush, an account of his early years as a settler, published in England (1838); returned permanently to England, 1845 Daniel O’Flynn (also O’Flyn) – neighbour of the Langtons; sometime served as hired help to John Langton; brother of Mary Scarry Mrs Russell – occasional servant to the Langtons Captain Sawers – located near Bobcaygeon rapids; owned a tavern there by 1837 Mary Scarry – sister of Daniel O’Flyn(n); accompanied parents and brother to Sturgeon Lake in 1833, leaving her husband in Ireland with intention of

Frequently Mentioned Names xxxi

returning there, or having her husband join her at Sturgeon Lake; remained at Sturgeon Lake, working for the Langtons for many years; accompanied them when they moved to Peterborough in 1852 William Taylor – carpenter who did work for John Langton; later a school trustee James Wallis – born in Glasgow of English and Scottish ancestry; emigrated to Montreal in1832; moved to Upper Canada in 1833 and purchased land in Fenelon township; formed partnership with Robert Jameson for land transactions and business enterprises, including grist- and sawmills, in 1833; laid out Fenelon town site; purchased additional 8,000 or 10,000 acres in the township; one of three magistrates appointed for Fenelon, 1835; fundraiser for the church at Fenelon; brought in other settlers, including Major McLaren; left Fenelon permanently for Peterborough in 1844. Note: In addition to the above names, Anne Langton frequently mentions several servants by first name only: Bridget, Kitty, Margaret, and two boys called Timothy.

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Preface xxxiii

Langton Family Tree

Thomas Langton m Ellen Currer (1770–1837) (1766–1846)

William m Margaret Hornby (1803– 1881)

Thomas Leyland (1834– 1835)

Alice

Ellen Josephine

Ellen (died in infancy)

Anna Margaret

Ellen (1847– 1915)

Anne (1804– 1893)

Henry Katharine Currer Elizabeth (1840– 1902)

Thomas (1849– 1887)

Henry Stephen (1851– 1887)

John m Lydia Dunsford (1808– 1894)

Thomas (1806– 1812)

William Marian Heywood Cicely (1843– 1921)

Agnes (1853– 1937)

William Alexander (1854– 1933)

Frances Amelia

John (1857–?)

Hugh Hornby (1862– 1953)

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Preface xxxv

Abbreviations

AO BW DCB CKLRAF ALAC HHL JLff EP OED UCLR UTARMS

Archives of Ontario, Toronto Barbara Williams Dictionary of Canadian Biography City of Kawartha Lakes Records and Archives Facility Anne Langton Art Collection Hugh Hornby Langton John Langton family fonds, F 1077, Archives of Ontario Ellen Philips Oxford English Dictionary Upper Canada Land Records University of Toronto Archives and Records Management Services

xxxvi

Preface

Image Not Available

Fenelon Falls, c. 1839

Recto Running Head 1

A GENTLEWOMAN IN UPPER CANADA: THE JOURNALS, LETTERS, AND ART OF ANNE LANGTON

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Recto Running Head 3

Introduction

At last ... after all delays and disappointments, our long journey is accomplished. John looked very proud when he handed his mother into his little mansion. His arrangements for our accommodation are very snug ... And now you will ask what I think of the spot that has been so much talked of, and thought of amongst us. Upon the whole very much what I expected to think of it. The picture my mind had formed of the Lake is really very correct; that of Blythe was so much more particular in all its details that it could not be quite so exact. What most strikes me is a greater degree of roughness in the farming, buildings, gardens, fences, and especially roads, than I had expected. But when one looks at the wild woods around, and thinks that from such a wilderness the present state of things has been brought [ab]out by a few hands, and how much there is for those few hands to be constantly doing, one’s surprise vanishes, and one rather wonders that so much has been done, than that so much remains to be done.

So wrote Anne Langton on 22 August 1837 to her sister-in-law, Margaret, in the industrial city of Manchester, in northern England. With just one week of hands-on experience as a hard-working settler in the Canadian ‘backwoods,’ this accomplished English gentlewoman and artist sat down to record her initial impressions of her new home. She and her parents, Thomas and Ellen, and her maiden aunt, Alice Currer (Ellen’s sister), had emigrated to join her younger brother, John, on Blythe Farm, his pioneer homestead at Sturgeon Lake, near Fenelon Falls, Upper Canada, where he had settled four years earlier. John Langton’s ‘Diagram of Part of the Newcastle District’ (fig. 1) indicates the site of his farm. The above extract reveals key aspects of Anne Langton’s personality and character: her emotional resilience and philosophical outlook in the face of life’s challenges, her keen sensibility and deft ability to conjure a scene men-

4

A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

Image Not Available

1 John Langton, ‘Diagram of Part of the Newcastle District,’ 1833. John Langton sketched this ‘diagram’ in a letter to his father, dated 2 August 1833. Thomas Langton later copied it into a notebook. John’s intention was to give his family ‘some idea of the [Kawartha] lakes which are miserably laid down in all the maps I have seen’ and to indicate his initial explorations in the region. His legend reads: ‘Where there is the mark > there is a rapid where one lock will join [Balsam Lake] to Cameron Lake ... >> two locks at Cameron’s Falls lead into the North Branch of Sturgeon lake … [>] One more lock at Bobcayjwin which is to be compleated this fall leads into Pigeon lake. ␣ where I breakfasted ␤ where I slept ␥ Need’s [property] ␦ the Indian Village … a … on Balsam Lake. I have not seen this [land] myself … [the surveyor’s] report was on the whole favourable … b is a most beautiful situation on Cameron Lake … In the neighbourhood of c is some good land … d … near the promontory [Sturgeon Point] … e & f are private property, but might be bought for a trifle above the government price … g … appears swampy …’ In an appendix to the letter (dated 23 August 1833), John adds: ‘McAndrew, who will be a pleasant neighbour, bought land at - h - opposite Sturgeon Point & I bought about 300 acres where the dotted lines are at - c - .’

Introduction 5

tally (a talent so useful in her art), her elegant writing style, interwoven with a conversational tone. It also foreshadows recurrent themes of her writing: the difficulties of wresting an existence from the wilderness, an appreciation of hard-won basic essentials such as habitable buildings and arable land, the importance of adjusting to an unfamiliar context. Readers could scarcely wish for a more delightful, perceptive, and witty companion-guide than Anne Langton to introduce them to the life of a nineteenth-century genteel emigrant-settler family in the backwoods of Upper Canada in the 1830s and 1840s. Transported from her birthplace, Farfield Hall, a stately mansion set in the picturesque Yorkshire Dales in England, and from her childhood home, the elegant estate of Blythe Hall, near Ormskirk in Lancashire, to the stark reality of Blythe Farm, Anne Langton travelled a vast distance physically, psychologically, and emotionally.1 When she first set eyes on John’s small, simple, log cabin she referred to it as ‘his little mansion.’ The Langton Family Who was Anne Langton and how did she come to emigrate to Upper Canada? She was born in 1804 into an aristocratic mercantile family, the second child and only daughter of Thomas Langton and Ellen Currer Langton.2 Raised for her first ten years in an affectionate family circle at Blythe Hall, she grew up in privileged circumstances, mingling in a culturally rich milieu of extended family and distinguished wealthy friends, many of whom were also of aristocratic birth. As the youngest of five brothers, Anne’s father, Thomas, could expect to inherit neither his family’s ancestral home nor significant wealth. Consequently, as a young man he had worked as an agent in the family hemp and flax-trade business in Riga, Latvia, then part of the Russian Empire, for some fifteen years, before returning to England around 1800 and marrying Ellen Currer, daughter of a Yorkshire country parson.3 When Anne was only a few months old, Thomas bought Blythe Hall, parts of which dated back to the twelfth century. It was the birthplace of the Langtons’ last two children: Thomas, who was born in 1806 (and who lived only until 1812) and John, born in 1808. The significance of Blythe Hall for the Langton family cannot be overstated. It was the setting for their almost paradisal life together and for Anne’s happy childhood. Not surprisingly, it became the family’s ideal image of ‘home.’ Anne’s upbringing and education started conventionally enough for a girl of her social class. With her brothers, she was first tutored privately at home by her parents and by a French emigré priest and the parish church organist. From the time Anne was eleven until she turned sixteen, however, her edu-

6 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

cation took an entirely different course from that of most of her female contemporaries. In 1815 Thomas Langton uprooted his family to travel abroad, with the purpose of providing his children with a diverse education. This venture was to be no mere three-month excursion in the manner of the European Grand Tour usually undertaken by young men, often accompanied by tutors, before they settled into adulthood.4 Instead, it would last several years, involve the entire family, and include extended stays in several countries. Blythe Hall was rented out, and the family departed, unaware that they would never again resume their idyllic life there. The children learned the languages of countries they visited and were exposed to different cultures. Thomas engaged local masters wherever they resided in one place for any length of time and as they journeyed. The children received instruction in the three R’s and in such desirable genteel accomplishments as art, music, and dancing. The family’s initial destination was Yverdon, in Switzerland. There, they became acquainted with a widow, Madame de Peyrou, who invited them to stay en pension at her elegant neo-Palladian estate, Champ-Pittet, on Lake Neufchâtel, just outside Yverdon.5 The Langtons’ domestic arrangements developed into an agreeable reminder of life at Blythe Hall. It was at Yverdon that Johannes Pestalozzi had established an innovative educational system. Rather than teaching by traditional rote learning, Pestalozzi’s methodology involved ‘the full and fruitful development of the child according to his own nature.’ Almost all his original pupils were orphans whom he rescued from ‘beggary and vice’ following Swiss regional wars.6 He conducted his work at Yverdon Castle, which had been given to him by the town authorities. John Langton was soon enrolled in Pestalozzi’s institute. William, because of his delicate health, and Anne, because of her gender, were tutored privately by institute masters in the Yverdon apartments of a family friend, Mademoiselle Bourgeois. In addition to languages, literature, geography, science, and mathematics, Pestalozzi emphasized the importance of sensory perception, personal observation, practical experience, and rational deduction from first principles. He also advocated spontaneous freedom of expression. In this creative environment, the children spent most of their initial year abroad, returning for a shorter stay in their second year. A glimpse of the family’s daily schedule indicates how intently they pursued education: We go on here pretty regularly. We rise before six – at that hour the musicmaster comes, who gives to all three [children] jointly an hour ... At seven we breakfast, at eight the drawing-master expects us at Mdlle. Bourgeois’ in Yverdun [sic]. At nine, or soon after, an Italian master endeavours to prepare us for our further travels ... At eleven we return, or should return, to Champitet [Champ-

Introduction 7 Pittet], for little commissions, and seeing friends, etc., generally keep us till twelve. From thence till half-past one we look a little at our Latin, etc. At two we dine. In the afternoon each gives up forty minutes to practise their music; some little preparation is made for the Italian master, or some smaller pursuits are squeezed in here or there as we can; the rest of the evening is given to play. At seven we have tea and fruit, after which the old lady [Madame de Peyrou] and we three elders make a rubber at whist ... We contrive to prolong the evening till eleven. In the rule the children ought to go to bed at half-past eight or nine, but we generally find them up, and sometimes they keep up till ten, though when roused in the morning at half-past five John often declares that he really cannot do with so little sleep.7

‘Aunt Alice,’ Ellen’s unmarried sister, joined the family abroad in 1816. Ellen had been finding it difficult to feel ‘at home’ on the continent. At fifty, she was not as adept at learning new languages. Thomas was anxious to alleviate her social isolation. Alice was an ideal companion, as the sisters were very close to each other. The arrangement was mutually beneficial. Alice, a genteel woman of limited means, was grateful to share a home with the family, to participate in their adventures abroad, and to find herself muchloved and respected within the family circle.8 Her role and position adumbrated the one Anne Langton would eventually adopt for herself. The Langtons’ itinerary took them through Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, and across the Alps to Italy, the tourist’s mecca. Their return journey, in 1820, took them through Switzerland, Germany, and France. Stopping places included major cities: Brussels, Frankfurt, Geneva, Innsbruck, Milan, Bologna, Venice, Florence, Rome, and Paris. It is useful to pause here to consider the phenomenon of travel and touring that developed to almost cult status in Britain and much of western Europe from about the middle of the seventeenth century. Curiosity spurred scientist, explorer, and tourist, though to differing degrees. In the eighteenth and well into the nineteenth centuries, European people of means embarked on the Grand Tour. If, as has been argued by some scholars, the pursuit of pleasure, leisure, and personal emotional gratification are key components of the impetus to travel, then touring was a highly satisfactory way of fulfilling those urges.9 Valene Smith’s survey of types of tourism includes five categories: ethnic/native, cultural, historical, recreational, and environmental (the latter a recent trend).10 The Grand Tour offered opportunities to indulge the first four types, or combinations thereof. And,

8 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

indeed, the Langtons’ writings reveal them to be keen participants in all four types.11 There is insufficient space here to discuss the Grand Tour phenomenon in detail, but some observations are in order. Its rise coincided with an era of increasing exploration and discovery, encouraged by European nations looking to expand their territorial reaches and trade potential. Imperialism and colonialism were prime motivators in the exploration of ‘new’ lands, as reflected in many early travel narratives. The narrator often wrote from the perspective of a dominant, observing visitor or resident overlord. Mary Pratt describes the type well, as the ‘(Lettered, male, European) eye,’ or, ‘he whose imperial eyes look out and possess.’12 Books, visual art prints, and aesthetic treatises contributed to a flourishing ‘touring’ phenomenon. The upper and middle classes travelled to refine their aesthetic tastes and accumulate a hoard of novel ‘foreign’ experiences. Smith suggests that a ‘hierarchy of prestige’ was associated with such travel: ‘To measure the hierarchies of prestige, the journey motif suggests that the further removed from the ordinary, the better; the sacred/profane motif suggests that the more extraordinary, the better; while the time measuring aspect suggests that the longer the period or more frequent the trips, the better.’13 By this reckoning, the Langtons’ five-year expedition, which took in visits to many places of almost ‘holy’ pilgrimage, was an outstanding achievement.14 For example, it included archaeological sites such as Herculaneum, Pompeii, and ancient Roman ruins; natural attractions such as Alpine ranges, famed waterfalls, and Vesuvius; cultural venues such as cathedrals, galleries, and museums in prominent European cities; and ecclesiastically significant shrines, such as St Peter’s in Rome. In The Tourist Gaze, John Urry observes that travellers and tourists alike were preoccupied with the ‘gaze.’15 What they viewed – whether natural elements or human, animal, or ‘man-made’ components of a scene – were literally ‘objects,’ subject to visual scrutiny by those who were passing through a particular spot, at a particular time. The sophistication of this scrutiny varied according to the powers of the observer. The Langtons were well aware of particular sights/sites revered by tourists, and included many in their itineraries, but they also exercised discernment in how they viewed the subjects. Thomas Langton’s observations on the nature and true value of travel reflect a seasoned wisdom: ‘There is some danger I confess of adopting new prejudices in the place of those we lay down, and we travellers must not expect that all we bring home will be worth the carriage. The collection of each will depend upon his particular genius.’16 The circles in which the Langtons moved in cosmopolitan centres on the

Introduction 9

continent included a number of like-minded writers and travellers. Most notable among these was Isaac Weld, Anglo-Irish author of Travels through the States of North America and the Provinces of Upper and Lower Canada during the years 1795, 1796 and 1797, an account of his visit to and travels in, North America. The Langtons also encountered a Mrs. Herz, who had translated Weld’s North American travel book into German.17 In addition, Mariana Starke, a renowned English travel writer, was touring Europe to gather material for a new, expanded edition of her earlier popular travel books and tourist guidebooks. In their volume The Age of the Grand Tour, Anthony Burgess and Francis Haskell note that Starke’s guides ‘proved useful forerunners of [guidebooks by] Murray and Baedeker.’18 Her recommendations covered not only places to visit, suitable accommodations, and works of art to be viewed, but basic travel arrangements and even warnings of unscrupulous banditti afoot in the tourist regions around Naples. Undoubtedly, these travel writers made a lasting impression on Anne Langton at a time when her own love of travel and aesthetic appreciation were evolving. By late 1820, the Langtons were living in Paris, where Anne was receiving training in the art of miniature portrait painting. Her enriching European tour might have continued further, but that year Thomas learned that the family business in Liverpool – left in the hands of a nephew during his absence abroad – was floundering. Thomas immediately returned to England to try to avert disaster. The prognosis for the business was not good, and the Langtons were confronted by reduced prospects. Thomas returned briefly to the continent, presumably only to assist with the family’s preparations for departure, and in January 1821 the family abruptly ended their tour and hastened back to England to sell Blythe Hall and look for more manageable accommodations in Liverpool. Thomas returned fulltime to the family business. William, almost eighteen, went to London to begin training for business. John, almost twelve, attended a school in Liverpool. Stringent economy was in order. With a reduced household staff, Ellen, Alice, and sixteen-year-old Anne took on much of the daily housekeeping themselves. To comprehend the full impact of the Langtons’ change in circumstances, it has to be noted that loss of fortune meant loss of property and, consequently, loss of prestige. As Leonore Davidoff and Catherine Hall have observed, land as property had key significance in the class system in England. Its possession conferred ‘special status’ on its owners, ensuring that they received respect from their peers as well as from those of lower social rank.19 Loss of land – whether as a result of accident, misfortune, or miscon-

10 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

duct – signified loss of status and prestige and was, therefore, devastating at a personal as well as a social and financial level. At birth, Anne Langton appeared to have been guaranteed a life of leisure, privilege, good fortune, and ease. As her family’s fortunes waned, her life evolved along a very different course. Her brothers went into the wider world, but her existence became narrowly constricted. For Anne, her father’s financial losses meant there would be no dowry and no début or ‘coming out’ as a ‘young lady’ in formal society at the usual débutante age of seventeen. No dowry and no coming out meant no introductions to eligible young men and, therefore, no likely prospect of suitors, even from the middle classes. No fortune, no suitors – no marriage. This was a serious matter: for women of that era ‘the only narrative available to them [was] ... the conventional marriage, or erotic plot.’20 Cultivated, attractive, with a lively intelligence, Anne, on the verge of womanhood, had to face the likely negation of her marriage prospects and acknowledge that, through no fault of her own, her lot in life would most likely be the fate most dreaded by nineteenth-century British gentlewomen: spinsterhood or, worse still, impoverished spinsterhood, a state that was unflatteringly referred to as being ‘a distressed gentlewoman.’ As ‘nobody’s wife and nobody’s mother,’ an unmarried woman’s lot was marginal.21 The Langtons may have faced reduced circumstances, but their behaviour was still regulated by the social codes of the class of their birth. Anne’s journals, letters, and memoir reveal how the concept of genteel feminine behaviour and proper self-comportment permeated her thinking and being and largely determined her life choices. The concept of the social code of gentility is crucial to our understanding of how she functioned, of how societal influences shaped her, of the limits she set for herself, and of the impediments to her pursuing a professional career. At relevant points in the portrait that follows, I comment on her acceptance of this code, her gradual questioning of it and subsequent limited modifications of her behaviour. First, however, an examination of the nature of ‘gentlewomanhood’ itself and of the context within which it flourished will furnish some preliminary context for Langton’s responses to her condition and circumstances. The codes regulating upper- and middle-class womanhood, while prescriptive, were not universally accepted. Some single middle-class women did seek financial independence and/or a career – one thinks of Hannah More, of the Martineau sisters, of Anna Jameson. But such women were few in number. What, then, were the main concepts of the code of gentility, especially as it pertained to ‘gentlewomen’ and to their familial and social roles? What effect did the cultural context have on this young, upper-class woman of

Introduction 11

reduced circumstance as she entered her early adult years? The genteel code was an informal, but nevertheless widely held, set of social beliefs. The term ‘genteel’ originally referred to the status of a male person – a ‘gentleman’ – born and bred into the upper, aristocratic, land-owning (and therefore wealthy) stratum of British society. If the person were female, then the term used was ‘gentlewoman.’ Independently wealthy – and so freed from the need to ‘earn’ their living – the men could afford to pursue an extremely comfortable, often luxurious, leisured lifestyle. Over time, the term ‘genteel’ also came to denote members of the middle class who acquired considerable wealth and who adopted the mores and outwardly opulent mode of living of the upper class: acquiring property, a large residence, fine clothes, jewellery, and other possessions to advertise their wealth. Based on the idea of a gendered hierarchy of binary opposites, the genteel code ascribed differing characteristics to men and women. Operating among the middle and upper classes, it was founded on the belief that differences between the sexes were biologically determined. These differences were regarded as ‘natural’ and incontrovertible. Such views held serious implications. In a ground-breaking article, ‘The Cult of True Womanhood’ (1966), Barbara Welter offered a list of attributes by which nineteenth-century gentlewomen were judged socially: they were expected to embody ‘piety, purity, submissiveness and domesticity. Put [these attributes] ... altogether and they spelled mother, daughter, sister, wife, woman. Without them ... all was ashes. With them she was promised happiness and power.’22 The ‘power’ and ‘happiness’ were, of course, of limited scope, to be exercised and enjoyed only within the arena of home and family, where, in the final analysis, a woman still remained subordinate to her husband’s (or father’s or brother’s) will if he chose to supersede her domestic authority. By the time of Langton’s birth, this ideology had become concretely reinforced by conduct, or courtesy books. These publications informally, but firmly, served as ‘authorities’ on women’s socialization. One such volume, Letters to a Young Lady, written by Mrs (Jane) West and published in London in three volumes in 1806, was unequivocally prescriptive in tone and content. As West’s Letters make clear, the genteel code resulted in a social view that considered ‘man’ and ‘woman’ almost as two separate species. Of women’s ‘innate’ attributes, West wrote: ‘the passive virtues and the christian graces are her natural dowry.’ According to West, adherence to such principles and exercise of ‘christian’ duties would ensure a woman’s spiritual salvation.23 It must have seemed an unjust twist of fate for the young Anne Langton, in 1821, to have to abjure almost every hope of fulfilling the traditional gen-

12 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

tlewoman’s destiny. In The Gentleman’s Daughter, Vickery describes the social scene into which Anne would have been introduced as a young gentlewoman in the county of Lancashire. Her ‘coming out’ was to have taken place at the Assembly Rooms of Preston Guild, ‘the supreme arena of polite leisure.’24 In 1817 Thomas Langton had anticipated this occasion while the Langtons were residing at Montpellier, France. At the express invitation of the ‘Premier President’ (the chief law authority in Montpellier), Anne’s parents were persuaded to take their young daughter to one of his evening functions, where ‘she danced a good deal ... and was charmed to be so much noticed.’ But Thomas added a note of caution: ‘This is not, however, to be taken as a precedent, and she is perfectly contented to think that she is not to come out again till Preston Guild.’25 Vickery writes of Preston’s Assembly Rooms as the hub of social activities for the Lancashire elite, where ‘the Lancashire quality [were] on parade’ in all their finery.26 Thomas Langton had served for a time as a magistrate and deputy-lieutenant for Lancaster,27 so his daughter would have taken a respected place at such affairs. In the Preston Assembly Rooms, as at the national assembly rooms in London or renowned regional ones such as those at Bath, young ladies had their most realistic opportunities to attract a suitable husband: a member of the landed gentry at least, possibly even of the aristocracy; preferably a rich, handsome, personally agreeable young man (as Jane Austen’s novels frequently attest). For Anne, however, changing circumstances meant that she took on the quotidian role of caregiver to her aging parents and aunt, quietly establishing herself as helpmeet to her family, while preparing for the day when she herself would step into the role of chatelaine. She did so dutifully and willingly, as was considered only ‘proper’ for a good Christian woman. Acquiescence to conformity was a key tenet of the social code for women. Anne was opting for the one possible path to social redemption for gentlewomen, especially unmarried ones with no home to call their own: self-sacrifice, the ultimate ‘salvation,’ summed up in one word – ‘usefulness.’28 Anna Jameson (in 1837) and Anne Langton (in 1838), each writing in Upper Canada, reflect on the importance for a woman of proving herself of use to others, though the two exhibit differing ways of exercising this attribute. Jameson writes: ‘Do you not think ... that the true importance and real dignity of woman is everywhere, in savage and civilised communities, regulated by her capacity of being useful; or in other words, that her condition is decided by the share she takes in providing for her own subsistence and the well-being of society as a productive labourer. Where she is idle and useless by privilege of sex ... is not her position quite as lamentable ... as where she

Introduction 13

is the drudge, slave, and possession of the man?’29 Anne Langton, on 15 October 1838, at the age of thirty-four, penned the following words, while contemplating her future: ‘I wish [John] may meet with a wife for his own sake most sincerely, though I think it very questionable whether it would not be for my happiness that he should continue to want his sister. There is so much happiness, under every disadvantage, in having an object in life, and feeling yourself of real use to someone, that I think even selfishness would induce me to remain with him, whilst unmarried, unless, indeed, I should happen to marry myself, which thing was never less likely.’ If she could not manage her own house, she could find fulfilment by managing her brother’s. Indeed, Vickery has indicated that the role of housekeeper was not without honour: it was viewed as a ‘badge of decent gentility.’30 Langton intended to keep the badge brightly burnished. Examining the precepts of the genteel code more closely, we see that women were expected to live up to an ideal – that is, to aspire to a state that, by definition, was unattainable. Even though there would always be a gap between what a mere mortal gentlewoman could attain and the ideal advocated, women struggled to measure up to the image of the ‘good woman.’31 Above all, a woman’s conduct was to be unimpeachable in the eyes of others: ‘seemliness’ was all. Vickery identifies the focus of her book The Gentleman’s Daughter as ‘a study in seemliness; a reconstruction of the penalties and possibilities of lives lived within the bounds of propriety.’32 A woman who ignored the unofficial code imperilled not only her social status but also her economic security and reputation. Opposing oneself to the ideal could result in the charge – however informal – of impropriety and might lead to social disgrace and ostracism, as happened in the case of Upper Canadian Anne Powell.33 Thus, for most young gentlewomen, following their early life lesson, the goal was to become and remain a ‘Proper Lady.’ To this end, they had models close by: their mothers. Harriet Blodgett has remarked: ‘Bred to accommodation, they [mothers] indoctrinate their daughters in turn, consciously and unconsciously, even as daughters so respond.’34 The relationship between Ellen and Anne Langton illustrates just such a mother-daughter pattern. Anne Langton’s early life and work illuminate the historical condition of many, though not all, middle- and upper-class Western women of her era. Like most other gentlewomen, Anne initially internalized the prevailing ideology. Over time, unlike most gentlewomen, she came to question some of its precepts, especially after she had emigrated to Upper Canada. Yet she never fully embraced the implications of resisting the genteel code, unlike a small number of women writers and artists, both historical and contemporary. This

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2 Anne Langton, 1826. This self-portrait of Anne as an artist was executed when she was twenty-one or twenty-two, the same year as her father’s final business collapse.

Introduction 15

small minority of independent women included writers such as Anne Bradstreet, Aphra Behn, Mary Wollstonecraft, Maria Edgeworth, Hannah More, Harriet Martineau, George Sand, Anna Jameson, and George Eliot and artists such as Lavinia Fontana, Sofonisba Anguissola, Artemisia Gentileschi, Rosalba Carriera, Elisabeth Vigée-LeBrun, Angelica Kauffmann, Maria Cosway. As these women were widely regarded as exceptional, their lives and work were not seen as representative of what other women could accomplish if educated and allowed to voice their opinions and practise their talents in a wider context.35 While still in England, Anne Langton began questioning some aspects of the gender code as they affected her personally: the right, as an adult, to make some decisions for herself, the right to pursue a career, the wish to have a measure of independence. Her questioning arose as a result of further developments in the Langton family’s financial predicament. Following the crisis in 1821, the Langtons’ business continued to decline. The ultimate calamity occurred in 1826, in the midst of a national financial crisis in which many people lost their fortunes. Thomas became virtually bankrupt, a fact that had permanent implications and consequences for the family. The business was sold, and the family retrenched further, selling their desirable Liverpool residence and putting much of their furniture up for sale. Anne later noted, ‘what was allowed from the estate [after the sale] was £600, and with that we had to begin the world again.’36 Further retreat from wider social life became essential. They moved to the quiet coastal spa town of Bootle, a few miles north of Liverpool where they lived in relative seclusion, in a small rented semi-detached, but elegant, house. Only one female servant remained, and their accommodations were so reduced that Aunt Alice took lodgings in Liverpool.37 The effects of these catastrophic events were so marked that, in writing her memoir some fifty years later, Anne still recoiled from the searing recollection of this watershed year: ‘I have paused some time in my writing, partly perhaps with a little shrinking from all that must now be recorded, the painful events of 1826.’38 Interestingly, it was in that same year, 1826, that Langton, in her early twenties, painted two of her earliest (most likely her first) self-portrait miniatures. Was there a pressing motivation behind this development? In one of these self-portraits, Anne Langton (1826) (fig. 2), she depicts herself as an artist, indicating that she had a clear intent to pursue her art and, possibly, some hope – although only obliquely implied – that she might earn her living by doing so. In reference to Victorian women artists, Pamela Gerrish Nunn argues that ‘the numerous self-images produced by male artists in the period’ and the dearth of female self-portraits as artists illustrate the fact that ‘the

16 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

identity of artist was not one which a female person could seriously or effectively inhabit.’39 In several self-images, especially in the self-portrait depicting herself as an ‘artist’, a decade before Victoria ascended the throne, therefore, Langton is attempting to position herself as a woman whose work could be taken seriously. Her daring and dedication are all the more remarkable considering that (male) art critics, from Giorgio Vasari and Boccaccio in the sixteenth century, to Ruskin and others of the nineteenth century, regarded women as being of a lesser order than their heroic male counterparts. As Whitney Chadwick writes, ‘Vasari’s praise of women is genuine, but it is qualified. To the woman artist belongs diligence, rather than invention, the locus of [individual male] genius ... Above all, Vasari’s model for the woman artist reflects the growing Renaissance subordination of female learning and intellectual skill to rigid prescriptions about virtue and deportment.’40 By the nineteenth century in Britain, then, little had changed with respect to women’s position, artistically speaking. Subsequent to the family’s financial misfortunes, Anne Langton’s art became even more significant to her. The study and practice of art was one part of her former life that she did not abandon, even though it was somewhat curtailed. Her family recognized her talent and encouraged her to develop her gift, acknowledging its importance to her. It gave her a muchneeded outlet for self-expression and personal development and helped to consolidate her sense of identity. By her early twenties, she was painting prolifically but not, as yet, professionally. Although, historically, professional women artists had been few in number, Langton must have seen work by some of the most famous, including nineteenth-century women, when visiting galleries in Europe and in Britain. It is likely that such works included self-portraits by Angelica Kauffmann (1741–1807) and Elisabeth Vigée-Le Brun (1755–1842). In her updated travel guide of 1820 – the one she was researching when she met the Langtons in Rome – in 1818, Mariana Starke mentioned both these works as being on view at the Uffizi gallery in Florence.41 Langton’s self-portrait as an artist shows awareness of this tradition. We know from her early journal notes that she visited London at least three times (in 1823, 1831, and 1833), where she almost certainly viewed art exhibitions. She also viewed annual exhibitions in Manchester and Liverpool.42 Slowly, during the first decades of the nineteenth century in Britain, the number of women who sought to practise art professionally began to increase.43 This was especially so in families with several daughters and no sons and even more likely if the father was a practising artist or writer. Examples of such women artists in Britain and Ireland included the Martineau, Corbaux, and Gillies sisters. Meanwhile, Anna

Introduction 17

Jameson (the eldest of five daughters of Irish portrait miniaturist Dennis Brownell Murphy) became an art and literary critic. To hone her talent, Langton copied well-known works by Old Masters and contemporary artists. Copying from original masterworks was a longestablished method of training. Langton availed herself of access to original works from several sources, including private collections of extended family members, friends, artists, and fine art dealers. Some owners lent her works from their collections for her to copy at home, at her leisure.44 Old Masters whose work she copied included Carracci, Correggio, Dughet, Guercino, Isabey, Parmigianino, and Rubens. Langton chose mostly to copy portrait miniatures and religious or mythological subjects. In the latter two categories, the originals had been executed as large paintings in oils on canvas; Langton, however, appears to have worked all her copies on a miniature scale.45 Langton also received expert tuition at this time from two well-known English artists. The first was Thomas Hargreaves, R.A. (1774–1846/7), a leading Liverpool miniaturist who had apprenticed in London with Sir Thomas Lawrence, president of the Royal Academy from 1820 to 1830.46 The second teacher was a ‘Mr. Ward,’ who can almost certainly be identified as the famed landscapist and animal painter James Ward, R.A. (1769–1859). As he was in difficult financial straits at this point in his career, it is quite likely that Anne Langton was one of the student artists to whom he gave paid sketching lessons while in the Liverpool region. One landscape painting in the Langton family collection at the Archives of Ontario bears the inscription ‘drawing done under Mr. Ward.’ There is also an uninscribed companion piece. Both are full watercolour landscapes. Both are careful ‘studies’: stylized pieces, probably assigned as studio exercises.47 The student-artist concentrates on refining her techniques and is successful, but the results do not ‘live’ and ‘breathe’ in the manner of her later, more spontaneous sketches executed on-the-spot, en plein air. Ward’s most famous landscape painting, Gordale Scar, was of a remarkable natural phenomenon situated in a remote area of the Yorkshire Dales.48 Widely regarded to be the most sublime subject in the British landscape, and much-depicted by artists and writers, Gordale’s haunting, almost eerie, cragginess and atmosphere rendered it a challenge to capture on canvas or paper.49 Ward’s version was on monumental scale: a canvas measuring more than three by four metres.50 Langton, who had been born less than a day’s carriage-ride from Gordale, also painted this scene, in Gordale (fig. 3). Although her version is a small, monochromatic watercolour and a sketchbook entry, it is her most dramatic extant work, unlike anything else that remains of her oeuvre.51 In its perspective and gestural strokes, however, it

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3 Gordale, c. 1875. Gordale Scar, Yorkshire, a famed example of the ‘sublime’ in England, captured in a late rendering by Anne Langton.

resembles one of Ward’s early preparatory sketches for this painting. Langton almost certainly executed her version much later in life, when she was breaking out of the waning mode of almost literal, topographical picturesque depiction into a freer style, with broad brushstrokes. From 1821 to 1837, the Langtons lived a mostly secluded life. They declined social invitations as they could no longer afford to return such hospitality.52 One exception was a dinner party that they gave for the explorer Sir John Franklin on the eve of his departure for his second Arctic voyage in 1825, the year before the Langtons’ business collapse.53 With a large extended family and an intimate circle of good friends, the Langtons were not completely without pleasurable pastimes, but these gatherings became almost the entire extent of their social activity. In the late 1820s, Anne boldly proposed a plan to her father whereby she hoped to add to the family’s income. She wished to earn a living from her preferred art – painting. Thomas firmly refused permission. The cost of contravening the code that elevated him to head and supporter of the family might

Introduction 19

well be social censure, thus incurring loss of self-esteem for him as paterfamilias. Anne, ever the obedient daughter, submitted to his authority. Maas makes clear that for a genteel woman to accept paid employment meant downward social mobility for both the individual and her family.54 By the early 1830s, however, Thomas had unsuccessfully tried numerous avenues to find employment. Anne approached him once again about earning a living from her art. This time, Thomas’s dire circumstances gave him little option, and he reluctantly agreed. Having secured her father’s permission, Anne moved swiftly to implement her plan. For some time, she had been availing herself of invitations for extended visits with friends and family. Such visits presented her with opportunities to move in a wider circle and to travel and make sketching excursions in picturesque regions of England, Ireland, and Wales. She often painted portraits of her hosts and sometimes of their children. She also sketched ‘portraits’ of their stately homes.55 She presented the resulting portraits and sketches to her hosts as gifts, to repay them in some way for their hospitality. In her journal notes for 1830, a change occurs when she records for the first time ‘began to receive payment’ and ‘painted a good deal.’56 From this point onwards, until the family’s emigration, Anne executed many miniatures, as her Studio Journals attest. Nevertheless, these journal records and surviving portrait miniatures suggest that Thomas limited his daughter’s ‘commercial’ work to commissions from family and close friends. In this way, she would neither have to exhibit her work publicly nor compete on the open market for sales: she would not need to sully herself with commerce. Thomas insisted that she use her earnings to provide for her personal needs and future personal security. In 1879, in her memoir, she disclosed details of how these ‘delicate’ matters had been resolved: No doubt if there had been more of us [daughters], we must have made some effort to turn our education to account, but there are plenty of home duties for a single one, especially where the parents are so far advanced in life as mine were ... Still in following my favourite art, I always had it in mind that some day or other I might look to it for a livelihood, and as my pencil was often employed for the benefit of others, I once urged my father to allow me to make it profitable as far as I could; but at that time he had reasons which he stated for not giving his consent. A year or two afterwards, however, he overcame his objections, and I painted likenesses, charging for them. I earned, in this way, something which, after providing me with some clothes, helped to lay the foundation of my little fortune, paying the instalments on a share in the Liverpool and Manchester railway, which my father had purchased in my name before his misfortunes. Any

20 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada little present that I had was always devoted to this accumulation; however, it melted away at last, and my present provision comes from an insurance on my father’s life, kept up with some difficulty in our adverse circumstances, and which at last must necessarily have been dropped, had not my uncle Zachary volunteered to take the annual payment on himself.57

Anne’s attempts to establish a career and her urge to make provision for her economic security reveal her efforts to become self-reliant, but the passage attests how close to impecuniousness she remained throughout her life. The passage also demonstrates her early artistic self-confidence. She clearly believed she had sufficient talent and skill to support herself by her art, if allowed to do so. Despite the family’s economic difficulties, Anne’s younger brother, John, had managed to complete a degree at Cambridge in 1829, supported by relatives. However, there were no prospects for further study to fulfill his mother’s wish that he enter the Anglican ministry or his own to take up law. Consequently, John returned to Bootle. When the semi-detached house adjoining that of the Langtons became vacant, the family rented it. An opening was constructed to allow passage between the two units. John moved into the second house, intending to take in pupils. With the extra space, Alice Currer moved in with the family again. She remained with them for the rest of her life. Alice Currer, spinster daughter of a country parson, is the almost silent, always supportive, background figure in the Langton family’s ‘group portrait.’ In Anne Langton’s portrait Miss Currer (1835) (fig. 4), Alice is stylishly yet ‘quietly’ presented in silver-grey dress and darker grey hat, appropriate for a woman who lived all her adult life in the half-light of genteel spinsterhood. With erect posture and smooth skin, and never having undergone the strains of pregnancy and childbirth, she appears quite young, though she is sixtythree years old, four years younger than her sister Ellen. By contrast, Anne’s portrait of her mother, Mrs. Thomas Langton (c. 1833) (fig. 5), shows Ellen at sixty-five, aged and careworn as she sits looking out wearily upon the world, her head supported by her arm, which rests on a table. Of Alice Currer, Anne Langton later wrote in her memoir with some regret and much affection: ‘I feel as if her name had not appeared as much as it ought to have done in this record, for she was a very prominent feature in the household, most devoted to my mother, and ever ready to be of use in all sorts of ways; taking care of the children when the parents were away, or keeping house for any left at home when no longer children.’58

Introduction

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4 Miss Currer, 1835. Anne’s portrait of her Aunt Alice.

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5 Mrs Thomas Langton, c. 1833. Anne’s portrait of her mother, Ellen.

Introduction 23

Following her aunt’s pattern, Anne would later help raise the five sons and two daughters of her brother John and his wife, Lydia. By 1833 John Langton had given up attempts to make a living in Britain. At twenty-five years old, he had been working for some time in a law office in Liverpool but still lacked funds to pursue a professional qualification. Moreover, his tutoring scheme had not brought in the desired income. (He never had more than one student at a given time.) Weighing his options, he came to a dramatic conclusion: he would emigrate. His choice of destination? Upper Canada. Anne took the occasion to provide him with a visual record of each family member. She painted a highly accomplished set of family portrait miniatures presumably as souvenirs for him to carry to his new home in a distant land.59 There was, of course, a distinct possibility that he and his family might never see each other again. As a result of John’s departure, the family moved once more, to a still smaller house in Bootle. Thomas, sixty-three years of age, continued to seek employment. He ran for municipal office but lost by a single vote. In 1834 he was appointed manager (‘the final effort’ to find employment, according to Anne) of a new Liverpool branch of the Rothschild bank, but within two years the directors had decided ‘to reduce the establishment’ and he lost his position. There were virtually no more leads to follow except, perhaps, the one chosen by John. Thus, as Anne wrote, emigration now became the project.60 Family conferences on the subject had taken place by correspondence many times since John’s departure, culminating in a brief return visit from him in 1836 – the occasion, perhaps, for the double portrait miniature that Anne worked of her father and brother, My Father and John (fig. 6). This portrait shows them poring over maps, presumably of Upper Canada, probably the Sturgeon Lake area. John had written from Sturgeon Lake describing the pros and cons of the undertaking.61 The decision was not an easy one and Anne noted ‘there was such a consciousness of its being rather a wild scheme.’ Among themselves, the ‘scheme’ was euphemistically referred to as ‘the Canada project.’62 William Langton, Anne’s elder brother, had become a thriving banker in Manchester (fig. 7). In 1831, he married Margaret Hornby, a wealthy Lancashire heiress (fig. 8) from a family that had been closely connected to the Langtons by intermarriage over generations. William had been making an annual allowance to his father of £200, and offered a greater sum to induce the family to remain in England. Thomas declined William’s offer but allowed him to assist in paying off his creditors. In contemplating emigration to British North America, the Langtons were joining a growing number of people attempting to establish new lives in

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6 My Father and John, c. 1836. Anne’s portrait of her father and younger brother.

Britain’s overseas colonies.63 After the Napoleonic Wars ended in 1815, Britain and Ireland experienced increasing demographic pressures that precipitated a growth in emigration to the New World, in particular Upper Canada. Soldiers returning from the continental wars were competing for available employment with labourers who had remained in Britain. Meanwhile, the population was increasing, but harvests were poor. Simultaneously, many industries sustained heavy losses as the demand for war-related products and services sharply decreased. The Langton family business in the flax and hemp trade was a case in point. It suffered additional hardship with the development of steamships and the consequent decrease in demand for ships’ sails and related products such as cordage. Throughout the 1820s it became obvious that solutions were needed to deal with social problems associated with poverty and overcrowding in cities, as well as lack of rural employment. Emigration was seen by some as a panacea for the country’s ills. The government and many landowners hoped that population increase could be dealt with by casting off the ‘surplus’ to

Introduction

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7 William Langton, 1831 (?1833). Anne’s portrait of her elder brother.

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8 My Sister-in-Law before She Was Married, 1831. Anne’s portrait of Margaret Hornby, who married her brother William.

Introduction 27

newly opened colonies. Indeed, a whole new industry emerged as a result of the dire economic circumstances: government- and privately sponsored emigration schemes. Accounts by travellers and land speculators stimulated interest in the subject. Sponsors and potential emigrants, alike, clamoured for information, which came in the form of written accounts, public lecture tours, and emigration scouting-agents. Publications by William Cattermole, Joseph Pickering, and Patrick Shirreff were among the most popular emigrant tracts.64 The number of emigrants increased during the 1820s, but the 1830s saw the greatest influx of new emigrants to Upper Canada. In the mid-1820s, a scheme of assisted emigration, headed by Peter Robinson (later, commissioner for Crown lands, Upper Canada), provided for emigration of Irish would-be settlers to the Newcastle district of Upper Canada. Most of those emigrants settled in the area that became Peterborough (named for Robinson); others settled in nearby townships. In 1832 the Poor Law Commission was set up in England. Its report, issued in 1834, recommended emigration as the most effective remedy for ongoing overpopulation and attendant poverty. Another assisted-emigration scheme was the Petworth project of the 1830s, through which, for several years in succession, a number of agricultural labourers from the area around Petworth, Sussex, were settled in parts of southern Ontario.65 The scheme was sponsored by the chief landowner in the Petworth district, Lord Egremont, and administered by the local parson, Reverend Thomas Sockett. Although the majority of Petworth settlers were sent to the district around London, some were located in the Kawartha Lakes region. Thomas Langton referred to this enterprise in a letter from Upper Canada to his son William in 1837.66 He was critical of the way the scheme was being handled, and, indeed, it came to an end not long afterwards. It had, however, succeeded in settling a considerable number of emigrants since the beginning of the decade. Meanwhile, Sir John Colborne, lieutenant-governor of Upper Canada (1828–36), was a keen proponent of emigration from Britain. As new townships opened up, he strongly influenced newcomers to take up land in the southwest of the province and the Newcastle district, ‘us[ing] every opportunity to direct the destination of assisted settlers.’67 John Langton, arriving in Upper Canada in 1833, met with Colborne, who urged him to settle in areas being opened up in the southwestern region of the colony. Chance, however, played a stronger part in determining Langton’s final destination. Having missed the steamboat from Oswego, New York, to York (Toronto), where he could bid at an upcoming sale of lands in the southwest, he took a boat to Cobourg, from where he could easily reach York. At Cobourg, he met people who gave favourable accounts of the Kawartha Lakes / Newcastle district; as a result, he made an initial recon-

28 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

naissance trip to that area. When he later arrived in York, he purchased three lots on Sturgeon Lake in Fenelon Township, Newcastle district: one of 115 acres, at 14 shillings per acre, and a second and third of 126 and ‘about 40 or 50 acres,’ respectively, the latter two at 10 shillings per acre.68 He also purchased two United Empire rights lots of 200 acres each (at 3 shillings 9 pence per acre). He soon sold one of these larger lots at a profit. The other, adjoining his original Fenelon Township purchase, was situated in the adjacent township of Verulam.69 The Langtons’ emigration was very much a family endeavour. In the earlier years of Thomas and Ellen Langton’s marriage, discussion between them regarding the entire family’s well-being reflected a ‘companionate’ marital partnership.70 By the mid-1830s, the interdependent nature of their family relationships was even more crucial. Women of middle-class households were looked to as agents of support in times of crisis; and emigration represented a familial crisis. In the event, the Langton women were not found wanting in devotion to the family unit. On 24 May 1837 the Langtons sailed from Liverpool on board the appropriately named Independence. On that day the nation marked the official coming of age of Princess Victoria. Eligible to assume the throne, she did so just a few weeks later on the death of her uncle, William IV. Shipping in the port was decorated for the occasion. If the Langtons mused on the auspicious signs of celebration for the beginning of a new national era as they themselves embarked on a new stage of their own lives, they must have done so with some ambivalence. Parting from William, Margaret, and their three small daughters was particularly wrenching. Thomas, Ellen, and Alice were almost certainly leaving their homeland, relatives, and close friends forever. Even Anne could not be sure she would ever return. The Liverpool–New York route was a natural choice for the Langtons as Liverpool was their ‘home’ port.71 On 18 June their vessel reached New York, the surprisingly short voyage of just over three weeks being a considerable contrast to that of the Petworth pauper emigrants, whose sailings from Portsmouth to Quebec usually took eight weeks. Although the transatlantic crossing had been expeditious, the Langtons then had to travel from New York into Upper Canada. This journey – by land, rail, and water – took almost three times longer than their ocean voyage, partly because of illnesses in their party and because of the slowness of transport and other occasional inevitable delays. But, as Thomas Langton explained in his letter of 20 July to William in England, they also remained longer in Toronto than originally intended because John had written to inform them that his building of their ‘big’ house was not as far advanced as he had hoped it would be by that time. Inveterate travellers, they observed, learned from

Introduction 29

their experience, tried to adjust to novel situations, and often recorded their reactions as they proceeded. Their introduction to the New World included encounters with First Nations people.72 They were not unprepared for these encounters, benefiting from narratives of John Langton’s initial meeting with Aboriginal peoples in 1833, on his first journey to the Kawartha Lakes, an area that constituted a ‘contact zone’ – that is, a place where two distinct cultures meet and interact.73 In the 1830s, two groups of First Nations peoples resided in the Kawartha Lakes region: the Mohawk, one of the six nations of the Iroquois Confederacy,74 and the Mississauga, an Ojibwa band. Prior to the coming of white settlers, differing First Nations bands had mostly co-existed peacefully, but following the Europeans’ arrival and introduction of the fur trade, tribes sided with one or other dominant newcomer group: the Mohawk with the French; the Mississauga with the British.75 Mohawk members had originally come into the Sturgeon Lake area in the seventeenth century and had attacked members of the Mississauga, who had arrived earlier from their ancestral land on Lake Superior, killing many. In the early or mid- eighteenth century, the Mississauga, in turn, ‘massacred’ members of the Mohawk.76 At the time of John Langton’s arrival, the latter event was still remembered in the area. The two groups lived in separate areas: the Mississauga on Sturgeon Lake; the Mohawk remnants further east, on Chemong Lake and areas closer to Peterborough. After his arrival in the area, the first person with whom John Langton interacted and subsequently engaged as a guide was a Mississauga man who lived at Chemong Lake and who had perhaps come there in hope of finding employment as a guide for would-be European settlers in the Sturgeon Lake area. Langton lacked knowledge and supplies; his Mississauga guide readily transported him to Sturgeon Lake. Langton’s narrative reveals not only his marked awareness of racial difference but also the assumptions and prejudices that he – and other settlers – brought to their initial contacts with First Nations peoples. As he records with some irony: And now that I am fairly among the savages you will perhaps expect some romantic description; the tomahawk and scalping knife, the chivalrous tuft of hair, the moccasins, the robe, the war paint and barbaric ornaments should all have been detailed to you; but imagine my disappointment at being introduced to a respectable-looking young man, dressed decently like a Christian in a coat, waistcoat and trousers, wearing a checked shirt and neckcloth, and covering his thick black hair with a common straw hat. This person, who owned no long unpronounceable name, but answered to the familiar appellation of Stephen Elliot, agreed to become my conductor for $1 a day.77

30 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

Langton’s relations with members of the Mississauga band gradually evolved, as a passage from summer 1834, shows: ‘Shall I call my house Pecoosheen, which being interpreted means Black Fly – a name, by which, why and wherefore I cannot tell, I commonly go amongst the [Mississauga] Indians.’78 Langton also maintained friendly relations with the Chemong Mohawk group. From them, he received another Indian name: ‘the old chief Uraguadire intimated his intention of making me a member of the Five Nations ... while he held my hand they all joined in a wild song and finally hailed me by the name of So-ja-ho’-wa-nen ... My new name being interpreted means “Un bon bien feu dans les bois” – truly a very good antidote for the Pecoosheens. They assure me that if ever I go to Cochnawaga or the Lake of the Two Mountains and mention my name I shall be recognized as a brother Indian.’ Yet this fraternal link gives way to a more ‘scientific’ stance when Langton employs the terms ‘specimen’ and ‘sample’: ‘The Mohawks are certainly a much finer specimen of the Indians than our Missisaugas [sic], if I may judge from this sample. They were all three fine muscular men and the youngest, a nephew of the old chief, remarkably handsome.’79 Nevertheless, Langton interacted amicably with, and was accepted by, both Native groups. Over time, his connection with his ‘brother Indians’ apparently faded, probably as his need for their services fell off. The Langton family’s first encounter with a Canadian First Nations group was also at Chemong Lake. Thomas offered wine to them, but most declined; the ‘remains’ of the Langtons’ meal were, however, accepted ‘with pleasure.’80 A note of condescension is evident in the Langtons’ role as hosts. The First Nations people were on ‘home’ ground, yet the Langtons set the dynamics for transactions. By their standards, they were the more ‘civilized’ and, therefore, dominant party. Anne’s own account is telling: she writes that the Native peoples were ‘doing absolutely nothing. In this state of complete idleness I believe they are always to be found.’ She then modifies her view: ‘After contemplating this scene of laziness (I was going to say wretchedness, but they looked happy) ... we re-embarked’ (letter of 22 August 1837). Like John, Anne quickly altered her attitude towards people from a different culture. Given their different values, she acknowledges the inappropriateness of interpreting their way of life by her standards. Like John, the rest of the Langtons appear to have had only rare encounters with First Nations peoples once they settled at Sturgeon Lake. As white settlers, families like the Langtons considered themselves superior to their First Nations neighbours. However, ‘whiteness’ was only one factor that contributed to social status in Upper Canadian society. In Becoming

Introduction 31

Prominent: Regional Leadership in Upper Canada, 1791–1841, J.K. Johnson identifies key factors in a person’s rise to prominence: nationality, religious affiliation, occupation. In all three areas, the Langtons were positioned as likely to attain prominence, at least locally. Their being British implied loyalty to the Crown, a counter influence to republican tendencies of American settlers concentrated in the southwest of the colony.81 British settlers were considered ‘the better class’ of immigrants, in comparison with the mostly uneducated, poverty-stricken Irish labouring class.82 As Anglicans, the Langtons belonged to the most ‘respectable’ Christian denomination. Being major landowners, at least through John, placed them in another favourable group, as did his public office holding and commissioned militia service. Farming and/or, mercantile enterprise in rural areas were potential routes to prominence. The Langtons, then, were of the ‘desirable’ class of immigrants known as ‘settlers of means,’ or ‘the articulate elite.’83 Although they had fallen on hard times financially, they still had some resources to supplement their farming income during their early years as settlers. Such settlers fulfilled important needs in the colony. Unlike poorer immigrants, they were not dependent on government funding for initial, or later, support.84 The presence of such settlers of means was likely to ensure Britain’s continued financial and political support for the colony.85 The Langtons’ education was a further advantage in coping with challenges that settlement inevitably entailed. The Langtons’ prominent status in local society was assured even before their arrival on Sturgeon Lake, not only by virtue of their ranking as English, Anglican, landed, educated emigrants, but also because John Langton had built a ‘big house’ for them.86 He designed Blythe Farm – which was the first double-storey house in the area – to comfortable, elegant proportions and built it with hired helpers.87 The term the ‘big house’ was coined by the Langtons’ neighbours, acknowledging their awareness both of the residence’s significance and of the degrees of difference between themselves and those they considered their social ‘superiors.’ Material possessions – furnishings and other embellishments – were also outward manifestations of status, imbued with meaning: their owners were members of a cultivated minority, with means to acquire more than the bare essentials.88 The Langtons were particularly proud of what Anne described as their ‘English elegancies.’ In 1838, on learning that the Dunsfords, a family of higher social ranking than their own, were emigrating to the region, she quipped (with a hint of gentlewomanly pique), ‘Hitherto I fancy we have more English elegancies about us than most of our neighbours, but the Dunsfords, I expect, will quite eclipse us, for they,

32 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

it is said, are bringing a carriage out with them. I hope they do not forget to bring a good road too’ (11 October 1838). One could be excused for thinking that the genteel societal code was unlikely to be found in North American pioneer society, yet scholars show that this cultural phenomenon was transferred to the New World at an early stage by genteel British emigrants such as the Langtons and Dunsfords. Barbara Maas devotes a chapter to the topic in Helpmates of Man. But while she notes that prescriptive publications, such as British Mother’s Journal, ‘reflected contemporary prescriptions of ideal womanhood and suggested measures which would help women attain the goal of perfect femininity,’ she also admits that ‘in nineteenth-century Ontario, prescriptive literature on womanhood was considerably less prolific.’89 Anne Langton, however, had been raised in Britain and Europe during the early part of the nineteenth century. Her views and behaviour on arrival in Canada, at age thirty-three, reflected the profound influence of prescriptive codes.90 Like Maas, Jane Errington emphasizes the influence of the British prescriptive codes in the lives of inhabitants of both the ‘farm/artisan household, and that of the “big” house of more affluent Canadians,’ though she, too, acknowledges that they had less influence than in the mother country.91 She argues, nevertheless, that the concept of the idealized gentlewoman was a significant part of colonial society and was ‘of central importance to the way in which ... they [genteel colonial women] defined themselves and their status.’92 Although genteel emigrants were in the minority in Upper Canada, they were socially influential and were able to assume a certain level of prominence within new settlements. The letters of Lucy Peel, a genteel emigrant who settled with her husband, Edward, in Lower Canada in the same decade as the Langtons, reveal a similar pattern in that neighbouring province.93 Although, as a result of their genteel status, the Langtons’ prominence in their community was virtually guaranteed, that same local eminence sometimes aroused testy relations between wealthier families and members of the lower classes. In Langton’s journals (as in those of Mary O’Brien, Catharine Parr Traill, Susanna Moodie, and Lucy Peel), family relations with domestic workers are a recurring theme. Interactions were fraught with potential for misunderstandings, ambivalence, discontent. Old World domestic arrangements had been easier to handle. Over centuries, clear boundaries had been established. In contrast, in the New World, traditional hierarchies were thrown into confusion. Most working-class emigrants had not crossed the ocean to ‘serve’ others. The more fluid aspects of class divisions in Upper Canadian society were initially unfamiliar to the Langton family. Nonethe-

Introduction 33

less, within a month of arriving at Blythe Farm, the Langton women were engaged in the most menial occupations of running a rural household. Ironically, they were also attempting to uphold genteel standards in behaviour, dress, and social interaction. This dichotomy was a marked feature of their life in the new setting. Yet, despite the greater fluidity of social roles, Errington notes that the servant class was ‘obliged to function within a culture that increasingly accepted [class- and gender-related] values and role divisions.’94 Such changes increased tensions between employers and employees. But, whatever their social standing, pioneer women shared common experiences of engaging in hard physical work, for ‘even the life of an affluent farm woman like Anne Langton was governed by constant physical toil.’95 If the ideal of genteel conduct was next to impossible for the majority of women to adhere to in Britain and Europe, it was even more difficult to emulate in Upper Canada not least because, in a settler colony elite women were in a tenuous social position. As Langton’s journals reveal, she and her family and their servants were well aware that distinctions between a gentlewoman and a woman of the lower classes were less marked in Upper Canada, as women from both classes worked side by side at menial tasks. In the New World context, mistress–servant roles and duties, while still hierarchical in structure, were often more interdependent and complementary than those in Britain. Increasingly, the majority of emigrants came from the lower classes of British society. Escaping well-defined bounds of a rigidly stratified society, these immigrants were seeking independence from constraints imposed by their former middle- or upper-class employers and so were disinclined to contribute to perpetuation of a system that they perceived as stifling their aspirations of independence.96 The Langtons were soon confronted by this social reality. Context proved to be crucial in determining outcomes. Context is a crucial consideration in reviewing women’s relations – particularly genteel women’s relations – to settlement in early Canadian society. Errington points out how an individual woman’s experiences depended on a number of factors, including prior social status in her home country, economic security (or lack thereof), familial circumstances, and the timing and location of her arrival in Upper Canada.97 Women of the middle classes usually arrived with some material possessions and a degree of financial security, at least for the initial period of settlement. Lower-class emigrants had few resources to sustain them initially but, with hard work and determination, strove to improve their lot and frequently succeeded in raising their standard of living, sometimes even acquiring a degree of social prominence and influence, at least locally. Anne Langton, her mother, and aunt had the advantage of arriving at a partially cleared and established settlement and of having

34 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

emotional sustenance within a loving family circle. Certainly, the energetic, capable, and youthful John Langton was able to offer some amenities, financial assistance, and ongoing provision of the necessities of life. The Langton women, in turn, attended to his daily domestic needs, assisted with chores, and provided creature comforts that he himself would have been hard-pressed to supply. The fact that, for a number of years, their family unit did not include young children was a further economic advantage. A distinct parallel between the contexts of genteel women’s lives in Britain and Upper Canada was the fate of the unmarried genteel woman. In both societies she had no clearly defined role or social status and few options for earning a livelihood. Katherine McKenna, in narrating the troubled life of Anne Powell, graphically describes the unfortunate lot of one would-be independent, unmarried, Upper Canadian gentlewoman.98 Powell’s story illustrates another aspect of gentlewomen’s status: the idea that women should lead restricted lives had given rise to the belief that women were best fitted to pass their lives in the private sphere, rather than in public view. They were to be content with confinement within a limited range of conduct and with limited access to, or participation in, matters beyond the home. They were thus discouraged from pursuing personal or professional independence, careers, or active social roles. So greatly did this state of affairs govern the lives of unmarried women in mid-nineteenth-century Britain that the colonial reformer Edward Gibbon Wakefield in 1849 described that country as ‘the greatest and the saddest convent the world has ever seen.’ Such an assessment was echoed by historians encountering ‘thousands of educated women condemned to a reluctant barren spinsterhood.’99 Wakefield saw emigration as a solution to the enormous problem. But for single women emigrating without accompanying family members, there was little opportunity to avoid a similar fate to that which they had faced in the mother country. In looking for economic security and fulfilment in adult life, gentlewomen like Langton and Powell faced a dearth of choices. Married women had a ‘threefold vocation as ... considerate wife, self-sacrificing mother and efficient household manager.’ If a genteel woman remained unmarried, her options were decidedly limited: she could choose from three underpaid and overcrowded occupations: ‘governess, companion, or seamstress,’ according to Martha Vicinus.100 McKenna sees the paucity of gentlewomen’s options as indicative of ‘the impact of the ruling elite’s importation of the ideals of the emerging “Cult of True Womanhood” into the wilderness of Upper Canada.’101 Fortunately for Alice Currer and Anne Langton, they were never alone in their single status but were valued members of a close-knit family unit.

Introduction 35

In 1836 the entire population of Upper Canada numbered only some 374,000 souls.102 When John Langton arrived at Sturgeon Lake in 1833, he gave the population of Verulam Township as zero. The following year Sir John Colborne, lieutenant-governor of Upper Canada, visited Fenelon Falls by invitation from Langton and fellow settlers James Wallis and Robert Jameson.103 The settlers, hoping for a major increase in road building – partly to attract more immigrants to the district – were especially keen for commencement of a canal system to link Sturgeon and other Kawartha region lakes via the Trent River watershed to lucrative commercial centres further south such as Toronto and Niagara. Although Colborne praised the region, especially for its calibre of British settlers, and promised to direct still more settlers to the area, requests for construction of the canal were unsuccessful.104 In the 1830s development in the Fenelon Falls and Bobcaygeon areas was fostered by the nucleus of genteel British settlers, most of whom were university-educated and/or formerly in the military. James Wallis, who emigrated from Ireland in 1832, initiated this pattern, buying up lots and eventually accumulating between 8,000 and 10,000 acres.105 He soon went into partnership with Robert Jameson, another early Anglo-Irish settler who also purchased large tracts of land. By 1834 Wallis and Jameson owned a store in Fenelon Falls. The following year Jameson opened a sawmill in the settlement, and by 1837 Wallis had established an inn. Together, they built the first grist mill in 1841. Wallis became one of three local magistrates and unofficial leader of the emerging community.106 In 1840 a militia regiment was established in Fenelon Falls and Verulam Townships, with Wallis as a major and John Langton a captain. John Langton had contemplated building a store soon after his arrival in 1833. As his mother considered it a risky undertaking, he assured her of his pragmatism: ‘Tell my mother she may set herself easy; I shall not set up a store – yet awhile at least – for the best of reasons – that in my neighbourhood there is nobody to buy.’107 He reconsidered his decision in 1844, proposing an expanded plan for a store-distillery complex. Ellen Langton again objected, fearing that settlers would spend hard-earned money on whiskey rather than staples. John deferred to her wishes.108 Despite initial growth, by 1839 prospects of a thriving community at the Falls were diminishing. New settlement was not increasing – indeed, population figures were declining, so business became less profitable. When the canal system failed to materialize, many settlers reviewed their options. Alexander McAndrew, a close neighbour and friend of John Langton, was one of the first to leave. Others soon followed. James Wallis left Fenelon for permanent residence at Peterborough in 1841.109 The majority of those

36 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

immigrants who were not ‘settlers of means’ remained in the area. They had little alternative, as there were few purchasers for their land and they lacked funds to start over in a new place. The Langtons arrived in Upper Canada as the political situation was becoming increasingly unstable as a result of social and economic conditions.110 Province-wide poor harvests in 1836 had led to economic recession and inevitable social hardship and political discontent. The influx into the province of an unprecedented number of immigrants, most of whom were poor and whose passage had been assisted by the government, further heightened economic pressure. Political unrest had surfaced in some regions as early as the late 1820s in response to a system under which the British-appointed lieutenant-governor and the Executive Council answered directly to the Colonial Office in England, as opposed to the elected Legislative Assembly in the colony. Opposition to this system was led by William Lyon Mackenzie, a Scottish emigrant who established the Colonial Advocate newspaper in Queenston, Ontario. Reformers were particularly critical of what they termed the ‘Family Compact,’ a group of leading politicians and officials who wielded most of the political power and used their positions of authority to further their own ambitions and those of people closely connected to them by birth or class. The Reformers first won a majority in the Legislative Assembly in the election of 1828. In 1832 they formed a committee on grievances under Mackenzie’s chairmanship. The committee’s report – a ‘budget of grievances,’ according to John Langton111 – which criticized the structure and operation of the colonial government, was carried to London by Mackenzie in 1832, but he failed to rally British officials to his cause. In the election of 1836, the Reformers were routed by the Tories. Undeterred, Mackenzie urged his supporters to press more actively for change. John Langton was inclined, because of his class origins, to side with the Tories. He nonetheless acknowledged that the Reformers had some justifiable grievances and that the Tories, unwilling to consider a diminution of their power, were overly optimistic about their ability to suppress discontent. While sympathizing with the ‘Radicals,’ Langton was no admirer of Mackenzie, describing him as ‘that little factious wretch.’112 When Mackenzie boldly called for rejection of and separation from the mother country, the loyalist Langtons were outraged. Meanwhile, under the leadership of Louis-Joseph Papineau, opposition to government dominated by a small, unelected clique was also growing within Lower Canada. In November 1837 his followers, the Patriotes, rose in rebellion. They were soon quelled by British forces, but the unrest convinced

Introduction 37

Mackenzie that the time was right to press matters in Upper Canada as well. On 5 December he led a small force from Montgomery’s Tavern north of Toronto down the main thoroughfare, Yonge Street. The unrest in Toronto was quickly put down by government forces, and many rebels were arrested. Rumours circulated that the rebel leaders who had eluded capture were planning to flee to United States via the ‘back lakes route’ and through Lower Canada. These reports had direct consequences for the Langton family. Because the back lakes route that Mackenzie was rumoured to have taken included the Kawartha Lakes region, James Wallis received government orders on 19 December to call up the militia of Fenelon and Verulam Townships. Robert Dennistoun led the first week’s expeditionary force in search of Mackenzie. John Langton was to replace him on Christmas Day. However, on 23 December Thomas Langton wrote to his son William that: ‘this morning intelligence was received that Mackenzie had succeeded in escaping into the States, so that there was an end to our soldiering for the present, and our [Christmas] party again revived with but short time for preparation.’113 More skirmishes occurred between rebel and government forces during 1838, culminating on 12 November in the Battle of the Windmill, near Prescott. Four days later, this insurrection, too, was put down. Despite the suppression of the rebellion, there were moves towards reform. The British government sent Lord Durham to investigate the Reformers’ grievances and make recommendations for reorganizing the political system. His report, tabled in 1839, laid out tenets for responsible government. It recommended that the executive be selected from the majority party in the assembly and that the two Canadas be united. A year later, under the Act of Union, Canada West (Upper Canada, now Ontario) and Canada East (Lower Canada, now Quebec) were united into one province. While male settlers were often preoccupied with broad economic, social, and political circumstances, female settlers tended to be more involved with personal and local concerns and activities. Maas identifies key factors that determined female emigrants’ successful adjustment to the new country: ‘socialization and self-image, environment, social and personal status, family formation, household organization, marital relationship, and networks of female support.’114 For the Langton women, the level of mutual support, the degree of respect accorded to them by John, their commitment to the family unit and active service in the local community meant that they achieved a remarkable degree of personal and social satisfaction as settlers. This proved true despite the wide disparity between their earlier refined, cultivated life and the often harsh nature of their pioneer existence. The challenges are

38 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

evident in the following passage from Anne’s journal (22 December 1839): ‘We are going to lose one of our neighbours in consequence of his wife not being satisfied with solitude. John’s comment ... is that a man runs a great risk when he marries in this country ... The risk is by no means obviated by taking a wife of the [Canadian-born] daughters of the land. Indeed, those who have been accustomed to the semi-civilisation of the more settled districts have a much greater horror of forest seclusion than such as have really lived in the world.’ On another occasion (a letter of 3 February 1842), she wrote, ‘The Fidlers [the local parson and his wife] have been with their friends at the Front [the settled areas along the Great Lakes]. Poor Mrs. Fidler will have made sad complaints of the dulness [sic] of the backwoods; the situation is not in repute at present, and it is said that only English ladies can make themselves comfortable in such solitude.’ The implication is that refined English women had greater inner resources to sustain themselves mentally in such isolation. Ironically, Anne Langton’s pre-emigration experiences, especially as an educated gentlewoman adapting to a circumscribed, middle-class regime, had prepared her well for pioneer life in a remote part of Upper Canada. ‘Forest seclusion’ notwithstanding, the elite lifestyle in Upper Canada, as in Britain, included entertaining intimate friends, local associates, and, occasionally, larger community groups. During their first years in Upper Canada, the Langtons were in the forefront of formal entertaining in the Fenelon Falls–Bobcaygeon area. They hosted the first and second sailing regattas held at Sturgeon Point, in 1838 and 1839, and, in 1842, a ploughing match.115 For the latter, Anne and her helpers were kept busy baking ‘every day for nearly a fortnight’ beforehand. They provided tea for the ‘ladies,’ dinner (and next morning’s breakfast) for the ‘gentlemen,’ and a substantial meal for some one hundred additional guests (see her letter dated 23 July 1842). They also organized overnight accommodation for about twenty of them. She also chronicled the day’s proceedings – the menu, races, dances – and she even found time to sketch the scene. Social distinctions were duly observed: dining and dancing were held in two separate venues – the house for the gentry, the barn for the remaining guests. Anne later dutifully tallies the expenses of the affair, thrift and economy being the watchwords of an effective housekeeper. For fear of being judged overly extravagant, she justifies the expenditure: ‘We have estimated the expenses ... to have amounted to £7:10s., which I think it was well worth, from the great satisfaction it appears to have given in the neighbourhood.’ As a final excuse, she adds, ‘we must have company sometimes.’ The Langtons were keenly involved, along with other genteel settlers, in broader social and charitable activities. The establishment of a church and

Introduction 39

provision for a resident parson at Fenelon Falls was an early community priority. Financial contributions to this end from relatives and friends in Britain were administered through Sir Benjamin Heywood’s bank in Manchester, where William Langton was manager.116 St James Anglican Church was erected in 1836 on land donated by James Wallis, who also conducted services until Mr Fidler, the first resident parson was appointed in 1839. John Langton or, in his absence, Anne conducted services at Blythe Farm whenever bad weather or poor road conditions prevented settlers outside town from reaching the church.117 In addition to church activities, the Langtons contributed to ‘subscription’ funds for neighbours’ support whenever disaster or misfortune struck. Occasionally, they initiated such funds, with John managing and administering them. The Langton women were particularly active in charitable endeavours. In 1839, recognizing the need for education, Anne began teaching local children on a modest scale. She offered lessons in the three R’s a few days a week at Blythe Farm, initially to the two small daughters of their neighbour John Menzies. Word spread, and she soon took in more pupils.118 Her mother and aunt taught the female students to sew, enabling them to assist their mothers in clothing their families and perhaps earning additional income. When enrolment at the informal school grew, Ellen and Alice assisted by hearing the younger children’s lessons while Anne gave more attention to the older pupils. Lessons at Blythe continued for about three years, giving local children an opportunity to develop their minds and acquire practical skills. As Ruby Heap and Alison Prentice indicate in Gender and Education in Ontario, most settler children had little or no access to education before the mid-nineteenth century. Where provision for education existed at all outside urban areas, it took the form of ‘informal and domestic modes of education,’ as at Blythe Farm.119 Langton provided lessons for free, as she did her other charitable efforts – in library, nursing, and church work.120 In 1841 Reverend Fidler set up school at the parsonage. Langton felt that his community standing might draw pupils away from her own ‘establishment,’ so she gave up teaching. But when his school closed after enrolment declined, she resumed her educational activities. She encouraged parents to supplement their children’s education at home but sometimes discovered that the parents could neither read nor write. She struggled to convince some parents of the value of educating their children, many of whom were needed to help on the farm. By the mid-1840s provision was finally being made for a system of standard education throughout Canada West, overseen by Reverend Egerton Ryerson, superintendent of education. In 1841, when there was the required number

40 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

of settler children (fifteen) in the Fenelon area, the village qualified for government funding towards a permanent school. The following year Anne Langton, having inherited some money from a relative in England, provided part of the funds required for a school building and called on neighbours to hold a ‘bee’ to raise the building. She was then able to rest assured that education in the area would conform to provincial standards.121 In the 1990s her pioneering efforts were officially acknowledged when a new elementary school in Fenelon Falls was named Langton Public School, primarily in tribute to her and her endeavours to bring education to the district.122 Anne had less success in establishing a circulating library, although she persisted at the attempt for some time. John Langton had brought a substantial number of books to Canada to which the family added with their arrival in 1837. William regularly sent them back issues of magazines and journals, along with books and other supplies. John compiled a catalogue of the family’s private library of more than 1,200 volumes. It was to these resources that Anne offered local settlers access for an annual subscription fee of sixpence. In some instances, this small charge deterred usage, so she offered to accept payment in kind – eggs and butter, for example – but she nevertheless had few subscribers. Some settlers were illiterate; others likely found more pressing calls on their limited financial resources. Even those who could read may have had little in common with the Langtons’ cultivated tastes and interests. Apparently, as with education, Anne’s library efforts were ahead of their time. By contrast, Anne’s charitable efforts in another area – medical assistance – were greatly appreciated. She had acquired nursing skills while tending her aging parents and aunt. Ellen and Alice Currer had been raised in the English countryside and, as daughters of the local parson, were probably encouraged to minister to the sick of the parish. At this time in Britain the practice of medicine was becoming organized and formalized, with the result that ‘old style cures’ and practices – such as those of the natural healer using herbal remedies and the midwife – were dying out.123 In Upper Canada, where physicians were few in number, widely scattered throughout the province, and practising mostly in urban areas, the need for traditional remedies and practices continued much longer. Ellen and Anne prepared nourishing broths and simple herbal remedies for common complaints. They also assisted with childbirth and postpartum care, an important branch of health care in a growing community situated more than sixty kilometres from the nearest physician, the respected Dr Hutchison, in Peterborough.124 In remote settlements, women were dependent on each other, so informal networks of female caregivers administered such assistance as they could.125

Introduction 41

Newly opened up settlements often became sites of ague epidemics. A form of malaria, ague was transmitted by mosquitoes, with sometimes fatal results for humans. It arose where extensive tree felling occurred to clear land for agricultural cultivation. The resulting accumulations of swampy ground and stagnant water were excellent breeding grounds for mosquitoes. Quinine was ‘a specific and effective remedy’ and was in constant demand during outbreaks.126 Of one virulent epidemic in 1842, Anne Langton wrote: ‘We were obliged to send for a collection of little phials of quinine, which are still in great circulation, and seldom a day passes that one does not appear to be replenished. I wonder how many doses of medicine I have weighed up in the last four months! I think almost as many as some village apothecaries’ (journal entry, 9 November 1842). The worst outbreak in the Sturgeon Lake area occurred in 1846. Many settlers were affected, and many died, Ellen Langton and Alice Currer among them. The sisters died within six weeks of each other. Anne, though severely ague-stricken herself, struggled to tend her dying relatives and aid nearby settlers. It is at this point that her journals end. After the 1846 outbreak, many settlers left the area. The Langtons, however, stayed on for another seven years. Before proceeding to examine the significance of Anne Langton’s writing and visual art, it is useful to consider her post-emigration frame of mind, especially with regard to her self-image and identity. For a nineteenth-century genteel woman, issues of appearance, self-image, identity, self-awareness, and self-doubt were of extreme importance. Social judgments could be based largely on outward appearances. Especially for females, the image or persona that one presented to the world usually determined the way in which one was received within one’s community. Advancing through her thirties, Langton became increasingly preoccupied with her physical appearance and, for a time, expressed marked negativity in this regard. Blodgett comments on female diarists’ concern with appearance: ‘In being extremely concerned with appearance, the diarists both reveal and reinforce the bars of their patriarchal prison ... They know that good looks are the easy way to success.’127 Langton, as a woman who had previously kept up with fashion and presented herself to the world in the best light possible, was highly conscious of her physical features, dress, and deportment and their effect on others. In December 1839 she wrote, ‘I have sundry reasons for avoiding caps as long as I can, and I am not very fond of disfiguring myself altogether. Strange to say, vanity can exist in the backwoods, and it survives middle-age.’ Three years later, she wrote: ‘I do not feel that it would be wise to send any order for a bonnet, as it is by no means every one that would suit my physiognomy. I wish that I could procure

42 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

a Persian lady’s head-dress, so as to conceal it [her face] altogether’ (journal entry, 17 November 1842). In 1840, conscious of the first appearance in church of Mrs Wallis, a new bride, Langton recorded Ellen’s and John’s candid opinion on her own appearance: ‘too simply dressed and unfashionable.’ Ellen also judged her daughter to look ‘more like the parson’s wife’ than ‘pretty’ Mrs Fidler, the actual parson’s wife, who boldly came to church in a white-silk bonnet trimmed with ‘a wreath of tiny roses.’ Anne took her brother’s and mother’s judgments seriously, while not totally agreeing with them. When assessing their view that she dressed too simply, she observes, ‘If the follies and extravagances of the world are to be introduced upon Sturgeon Lake, we might as well, I think, move on to Galt Lake. But they are not only follies and absurdities, but terrible inconsistencies, which makes them tenfold more childish’ (14 June 1840). On 24 June – Langton’s thirty-sixth birthday – she commented: ‘I ... get on very fast towards the awful age of forty!’128 At just this point – rather than four years later to mark her milestone fortieth birthday – she painted what was almost certainly her last self-portrait (see the frontispiece). Her abundant hair, pulled back from a severe centre part, is partially concealed by a less than becoming, primly fashioned cap. The aging spinster-artist regards the viewer – and her self-reflected image – directly, yet with a faint air of wistful resignation? Her features, which have become staid and homely, have a slightly pinched look, especially about the mouth. Nevertheless, she remains somewhat fashionably dressed, and her dark green gown is edged with thick fur trim at the neck. A pale peach-coloured stole complements the white and pale peach-toned, lace-trimmed bonnet, tied with pale peach ribbons. The mottled background tones, differing from Langton’s earlier, lighter hues, range from darker brown on the artist’s right, to light buff-brown on her left, with a paler, backlit halo effect around the head. The overall impression is rather school-marmish, with the added air of an efficient housekeeper. And, of course, these were the two roles in which Langton by then primarily functioned, marriage and motherhood having failed to eventualize. A companion miniature of John, executed at about the same time, gives the impression that Anne viewed the two of them as a ‘couple’ – perhaps in the manner of famed poet William Wordsworth and his devoted sister Dorothy. The complementary portraits – of almost identical dimensions – are set in matching oval gold frames. In December 1839 Anne had commented on thirty-one-year-old John’s marriage prospects: ‘I believe John begins to give himself up, so we may jog down the hill [of life] together, sympathizing with each other in our forlorn condition.’129 Langton’s ‘forlorn’ tellingly reveals her views on the importance of marriage for happiness.

Introduction 43

Blodgett has observed how the state of marriage presented a watershed moment in a woman’s existence, marking a promotion in status.130 In middle age, however, Anne experienced the reverse: potential demotion in status within the household. Lydia (Dunsford) Langton, John’s bride, became the new mistress of the household at Blythe Farm in 1845. Once again, Anne faced the task of making personal sacrifice for the good of others. Unfortunately, she gives no hint of the nature of the relationship between her and Lydia. It cannot have been easy, at least at first, for either woman. Langton’s silence on this point is perhaps an instance of female reticence about recording one’s true feelings, a not uncommon feature of women’s diaries. Bunkers discusses the tendency of nineteenth-century women journalizers and diarists to employ ‘indirection, contradiction, deviation and silence,’ arguing that such encoding tends to be used, ‘when it is necessary to suppress one’s ideas or when one’s right to speak has been denied.’131 For Langton to voice her feelings would indicate ‘self-ishness,’ a lack of generosity of spirit towards her sister-in-law. She knows the unwritten rules: her brother’s wife – the married woman – will be female head of the household. At forty-one years of age, Anne thus finds herself in need of a new role. It takes several years and considerable soul-searching for her to find one. Because Lydia soon became pregnant, Anne retained a place as the most active female adult in running the household. Her mother and aunt died in 1846, shortly after the birth and death of John’s and Lydia’s first child. Lydia soon became pregnant again, and so Anne continued to fill a useful role. In 1847, finally recovered from ague, Anne left Upper Canada to visit her brother William’s family in England, intending to stay for a year. In the event, her visit extended until 1850. During these three years, she debated with herself and her family and friends about her future. With insufficient personal income for financial independence, what were her options? Marriage was most unlikely: her age, increasing deafness, and lack of fortune worked against such a possibility. William offered her a permanent home with his family, but Anne did not want to be ‘frittering my life away’ as an ornamental lady in English drawing rooms.132 Because William’s children were growing up, she could not even envision a ‘useful’ role in helping to raise them. Did she experience any internal conflict about not pursuing an artistic career at this point? By mid-century in Britain, social pressures were lessening, though slowly, with regard to single women entering professional fields. This is another topic on which she remains totally silent. If she did sublimate her professional urges, however, her artistic creativity continued and blossomed further in later years. A different type of career offer fortuitously presented itself at this time, and

44 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

she found herself in serious conflict over whether to accept it. A friend from her earlier Liverpool days, Miss Eliza Lowe, had established a ‘School for Young Ladies’ at Southgate, near London. Lowe offered Langton a teaching position as assistant governess – one of the few employment avenues open to women that was deemed socially ‘respectable.’ We learn of her reaction to this opportunity from Langton’s memoir.133 She believed that it would reflect badly on her brothers as male providers if she were deliberately to pursue a paying career; on the other hand, were she to accept the post, it would provide economic independence. She admitted that her personal preference would be to return to Canada, and she hoped John and Lydia might ask her to help care for their children. Anne decided to accept the teaching post, but before she could take it up, the longed-for letter arrived from Canada: John and Lydia were inviting her to share their home permanently and help raise their family. Langton showed no hesitation. She returned to Canada in 1850 and was soon happily re-ensconced at Blythe Farm. In describing early English women diarists, Blodgett writes that they ‘have historically been traditionalists, not revolutionaries.’134 Langton’s responses to her life crises fit in with this conclusion. Life Writing Did you ever write a journal with the intention of sending it to any one? I think it would be difficult to do it with simplicity. One is tempted to act sometimes with the page in view that has to be written, and a day’s proceedings would be often diverted from their ordinary course by the recollection that they were to be recorded. It is different in stirring scenes where events are leading you; but in the employments of everyday life, especially when information has to be collected, inferences drawn, and an average estimate to be formed from the narration, journalising does become difficult.135

With these comments, in October 1838, just over a year after her arrival in Canada, Anne Langton begins her regular journal account of Canadian settler life. Her remarks suggest that she has given prior thought to the endeavour. From the outset, she shows a consciousness of the conventions of journal and diary writing and of ways in which her own record may conform or differ. Her journal writing will, for instance, venture beyond the limits of the traditional, personal private record intended only for the writer’s eyes. She will write for an external audience, albeit an intimate family one. She shows no intention of broadening her audience by publishing her journal. Her mission is to give her brother William and his family in England an

Introduction 45

ongoing record of her Canadian impressions and experiences. There is perhaps another, unstated, reason for Langton’s decision to keep a written record: the tracing of her personal development as she adjusts to life in a new land. Roy Pascal claims that the impulse for writing in the genre of traditional autobiography comes when the author (historically speaking, usually male) reaches a ‘meaningful standpoint’ in his life – in the face of misfortune, or when some abrupt change in circumstance stirs conflicting emotions, necessitating growth in personal awareness and a new direction in relating to the world.136 For Langton, emigration and its aftermath presented just such a meaningful standpoint. Pascal sees autobiography as ‘a review of a life from a particular moment in time’; in contrast, he characterizes diary or journal writing as movement through ‘a series of moments in time.’137 Certainly, autobiography is a finite undertaking, and one destined from its inception for publication. Langton’s urge to create a written record is an ongoing, organic one. From the personal watershed represented by emigration, Langton’s need to speak out is obviously strong. With no overriding imperative to provide for several young children, as Moodie and Parr Traill each had, or the necessity to pursue an independent career, like the soon-to-be-divorced Jameson, this particular genteel woman, in a far-flung colony, would have had no incentive to write her autobiography, and the possibility of addressing a public audience would have seemed highly unlikely to her. Yet, from the outset, Langton is aware that she will slant her narrative in a particular direction: even at the moment of performing a task, of conversing with someone, or in the instant of writing, she knows her account is ultimately destined for eyes other than her own.138 On one occasion she admits to going to watch the launch of a new boat, ‘for the sake of having an incident to record,’ to vary the otherwise repetitive daily cycle.139 As her journal and ‘story’ unfold, the reader becomes aware of the ‘fascinating interactions between the shaping of a text and the shaping of life itself, the ultimate text.’140 Langton knows she will have neither sufficient time nor subject matter to keep a daily journal over several years. Mindful of this ‘writing’ reality, she decides on a quarterly journal, moving from one season to the next, while covering the full range of twelve months – January to December – over the course of three years. She plans to do this by keeping her record for the first month of each quarter in the first year, then advancing to the second month of each quarter in the second year, and so on. In practice, however, she occasionally deviates from this pattern, and so it takes her four years to complete an entire twelve-month record.

46 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

Commencing her chronicle in October 1838, Anne Langton draws her twelfth journal to a close in November 1842. She deftly threads her way from one journal’s closing to the opening of the next, often referring back to her last entry, or following up on earlier conjectures about events that have since materialized. As in many settler journals, the weather, the state of roads and lakes, and the slowness of the mails form frequent opening observations. Langton often uses recurrent topical themes – the passing of seasons, for example – as a bridging technique between two quarterly journals or two individual daily entries, providing overall unity and structure. Over time, she develops topics and themes such as the climate, household management, farm activities, family news, health issues, community interests, social news, and fashion and gossip. Throughout her journals and letters, the trajectory of her post-emigration interior self-development also gradually emerges.141 Her authorial/editorial presence offers glimpses of her doubts and concerns as a journalizer as well as her ongoing self-assessment as a writer: ‘I do not think this month, April, a very favourable one for the interest of the present sheet ... But it is well you should see us in all our varieties. I will not be deterred from giving you my quarterly communication’ (1 April 1839). For Langton, the journal becomes a way to create a sense of closeness, for her and her loved ones in England, a continuing involvement in each other’s lives, despite the ocean that separates them and the extreme slowness of the mails.142 Knowing that William and Margaret are unlikely ever to visit Canada, she expresses her primary aim: ‘Since dinner [I] have been doing another sketch for you. I think in time you will have some sort of a notion what this world of ours is like’ (journal entry, 13 October 1838). Her direct, conversational tone moves the reader to ‘feel’ that William and Margaret and the little nieces are actually in the parlour with her. She writes as if she can expect an immediate reaction, if she looks up from writing: a response to a query, a nod of assent to a suggestion. Yet she knows that it may be weeks, or months, before she receives a response from her audience. She also writes in full knowledge that they may never see each other again. In her journals, Anne Langton remarks occasionally on the lack of mental stimulation in her limited world: ‘Here we know that the world is wide, but we do not feel its wideness ... Self and self’s concerns expand very rapidly when the pressure of the past is removed. We certainly do not gain many new ideas, and must consequently fall a little behind our age. My knowledge, even of the country I live in, increases very slowly since my dear father’s intelligent and comprehensive questionings have ceased to elicit information’ (13 October 1838). Clearly, for this family, mental well-being was

Introduction 47

essential to survival. Having formerly mingled in cultivated European societies, they were now grappling with the basic survival priorities essential to settler communities, where intellectual pursuits were regarded as a luxury. What she needed was a way of moving between the two modes of being. Her writing and her art became that link. During the past three decades, there has been a burgeoning of study and criticism of life writing in all forms but especially pertaining to women and to the most common forms of their historical written expression: letters, diaries and journals. At first, much of this research was, of necessity, additive in nature: it focused on discovering – in some cases, rediscovering – early women writers. Analysis has expanded to include the influences of historical, social, economic, and educational realities and their effects on women’s intellectual, public, and social participation.143 Mary Poovey, in The Proper Lady and the Woman Writer, writes of the historical dilemma of women writing about their lives and of ‘the strategies that enabled women either to conceive of themselves in two apparently incompatible ways or to express themselves in a code capable of being read in two ways.’ Poovey ponders how a gentlewoman could commit this deliberate act and maintain her modest, ladylike image: ‘The very act of a woman writing during a period in which self-assertion was considered “unladylike” exposes the contradictions inherent in propriety: just as the inhibitions visible in her writing constitute a record of her historical oppression, so the work itself proclaims her momentary, possibly unconscious, but effective, defiance.’144 On first reading, ‘defiance’ may seem too strong a word to describe Langton’s stance as a writer. She expresses diffidence about keeping a journal that can sustain the interest of others, torn as she is between her boldness (a ‘masculine’ characteristic) and her internalized conditioning as a modest gentlewoman. After describing, with obvious relish, the outfits and appearances of several women in the church congregation one Sunday, she adds, ‘I warned you I should write a womanish journal!’ (14 June 1840). This gentle quip shows how she is well aware that she risks losing the attention of male members of her audience if she overindulges herself by covering ‘female’ topics too frequently or in too much detail. Nineteenth-century women writers’ dilemmas in voicing themselves while simultaneously appearing to conform to traditional definitions of femininity suggest that present-day readers need to examine early autobiographical works closely for evidence of how these women judiciously ‘skirted,’ or directly confronted, their constricted reality. Buss provides a helpful way of

48 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

proceeding. While she recognizes that female pioneer writers are ‘marginalized subjects speak[ing] a dominant discourse,’ she also sees language as a means ‘to construct personal and political power in the world.’ Offering a series of ‘mapping’ landmarks to guide our reading ventures, she suggests three particularly useful ‘reading strategies’: double, contextual, and intertextual.145 ‘Double reading’ means reading other texts (published and unpublished) by the same writer; ‘contextual strategies’ include reading any other documents that have a bearing on the autobiographer’s life; ‘intertextual strategies’ consist of reading writings by other women who wrote within similar contexts.146 In debating characteristics of women’s diaries and journals, critics sometimes reach conflicting conclusions. Mary Jane Moffat and Charlotte Painter suggest that the diary form has been used by women ‘partly because it is an analogue to their lives: emotional, fragmentary, interrupted, modest, not to be taken seriously, private, restricted, daily, trivial, formless, concerned with self, as endless as their tasks.’147 Anne Langton’s writing can sometimes be seen as conforming closely to this assessment. Penelope Franklin, however, advocates that critics read women’s diary and journal forms with ‘a more positive view. Why not substitute: realistic, self-contained, patient, assertive, serious, individual, liberating, constant, accessible, flexible, proud, limited only by one’s imagination?’148 A reader of Langton’s life writing finds this set of features is also characteristic of her work. This is not a discrepancy so much as a paradox. The more Langton wrote, the more conscious she was that she was a woman daring to write. The realities of settler society meant that Anne Langton, like other pioneer women, engaged in activities that, in England, would have been deemed inappropriate for a gentlewoman. Such conflicts in values are a frequent theme in her journals. Sensing her way as she goes, she emerges from one tradition into another, replacing one literary self-portrait with another, advancing from one stage of self-knowledge and/or action into another, never entirely giving up all trace of her earlier self. Writing on 13 October 1838, she wryly comments: ‘perhaps you would think my feminine manners in danger if you were to see me steering a boat for my gentleman rowers, or maybe handling the ropes a little in sailing, but don’t be alarmed; though such things do occur occasionally, they are rather infrequent, and my woman’s avocations will always, I think, more than counterbalance them.’ As she continues, the complexity of the issues and ambivalence of her response are clear: ‘I have caught myself wishing an old long-forgotten wish that I had been born of the rougher sex. Women are very dependent here, and give a great deal of trouble; we feel our weakness [here] more than anywhere else.

Introduction 49

This, I cannot but think, has a slight tendency to sink us, it may be, into a more natural and proper sphere than the one we occupy in over-civilised life ... I think here a woman must be respectable to meet with consideration and respect.’ Dependence is a nuisance, and women’s weakness causes trouble to men. Langton confesses that her response to such judgments is to wish sometimes that she were a man. Yet ultimately she seems to accept that this dependence and weakness, magnified by settler society, ensure that women ‘sink’ to their natural and proper sphere. Her use of the word ‘sink’ indicates that she still believes that women naturally belong to a lower social ranking than that occupied by men. Two years later, she grapples again with implications of woman’s ambiguous role in settler society: ‘I am afraid women deteriorate in this country more than the other sex. As long as the lady is necessarily the most active member of her household she keeps her ground from her utility; but when the state of semi-civilisation arrives, and the delicacies of her table, and the elegancies of her person become her chief concern and pride, then she must fall, and must be contented to be looked upon as belonging merely to the decorative department of the establishment and valued accordingly’ (14 June 1840). At times, Langton reveals healthy doubts and conflicts about woman’s status in New World and Old. Occasionally her urge to venture beyond convention is sorely tested, as when she writes of John’s decision not to take her out in a canoe again. She accepts her brother’s judgment but expresses some regret: ‘I, having a due value for my precious life, should be sorry to urge the risk of it, but I am rather glad the idea [of my not canoeing] did not spring up earlier’ (18 July 1839). But readers will note that Langton almost always tempers critical observation with reservation. Struck one vexing day by the enormity of women’s laborious work in Canada, she, her mother, and aunt indulge in an invective, but with moderation: ‘We all joined in a little tirade against Canada this morning ... Poor country! ... I have sometimes thought, and I may as well say it, now that it is grumbling day – woman is a bit of a slave in this country’ (4 July 1839). Langton hints at criticism but refrains from bold statement. The tirade is only a ‘little’ one; woman, only ‘a bit’ of a slave. When the author of a journal writes knowingly for other readers and if the record is to be a faithful transcription/inscription, including the repetitive ‘dailiness’ of her life, then she runs the risk of producing monotonous, possibly boring, prose at times.149 Langton is aware of this dilemma. On one occasion, she laments, ‘Either the month or I have been immensely stupid,’ implying that her journal will suffer accordingly (28 July 1839). By 1846,

50 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

after a journal-writing pause of more than three years, during which she continues her letter writing, Langton resumes her journal, but harbours misgivings as to its feasibility: ‘I am perhaps going to give you another journal after the fashion of the old ones. I say perhaps, because, though actually making a commencement, I have strong misgivings as to the events of the month furnishing a satisfactory result. I stopped my journals before because they were becoming commonplace, and I have little expectation that these will be otherwise’ (introduction to journal, April 1846). Here she is, face to face again with the recurring commonplace of the ‘daily.’ But this dailiness is also part of why we choose to read journals, letters, diaries: to find evidence of unique yet, paradoxically, ‘repeatable events ... the little sacraments of daily existence.’150 While Anne Langton’s journals and letters have important significance as socio-historic documents, they also have significant literary value. Of women’s autobiographical writings and literature, Margo Culley observes: ‘The literature of American women is vast. In releasing the word “literature” from a capital “L” and giving it the broadest possible construction ... we may include women’s diaries and journals, letters, memoirs, autobiographies, essays, stories, speeches, oral narratives, and songs. Texts are everywhere, and the limits to the sources for study are only the limits of our imaginations.’151 Substituting the word ‘Canadian’ for ‘American’ in this passage, we can make similar claims for autobiographical texts by women in Canada. It behoves us, then, to read and examine Anne Langton’s autobiographical writing as literature. The journalizer draws, consciously or otherwise, on literary skills: techniques, craft, appropriate use of language, all come into play. Langton certainly shapes her material. She combines literal and metaphorical language, making for varied presentation; symbolism, however, is seldom present. She edits carefully to avoid superfluous repetition of theme or viewpoint. Her overall structure is chronological but she avoids monotony by sometimes focusing on topical themes. Her inventory of writerly skills includes temporal shifts: flashbacks, foreshadowing, summary, review.152 She builds suspense, employs surprise, and is well versed in the artful use of climax and anticlimax, nouement and dénouement. With her finely crafted artistic sense, she deftly renders her scenes in varying literary hues, heightening them by skilful use of the contrasting effects of verbal and thematic chiaroscuro, as we see in her written account of the ploughing match (letter, 23 July 1842) and her later remark that ‘there are certainly strong lights and shades in Backwoods life.’153 Long-term journal writers such as Langton find techniques to help the

Introduction 51

reader recall previous material, to anticipate forthcoming events, to make connections between entries, to remind readers of ‘characters’ already mentioned and to introduce them to new ones, to compare present with earlier themes, events, and achievements. Langton’s voice varies in tone and creates mood. She quips about others’ frailties but laughs loudest at her own idiosyncrasies. Her descriptions of fashions, dinner menus, entertainments, are verbal delights. Wit, humour, playfulness, add levity to repetitive themes. With a line or two of fascinating dialogue, an amusing anecdote, a subtle jest, she keeps her readers turning the page. Langton’s journals sometimes read like a novel or play. The people she encounters are as lively as characters in a fiction. Historically, however, the main thread of the ‘plot’ in women’s life writing is usually relatively simple; in Langton’s case, the gradual development of a quiet self in a small, local community. A successful journal writer balances simplicity of daily life and concern over petty issues with the larger complexities of human existence. Examples of wisdom gained are noted and may even become a resource for readers on their own life journeys. Langton’s journals are replete with experience and knowledge gleaned on many levels, to which the reader gains access.154 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada also demonstrates the importance of female self-inscription as a way of affirming the self, one’s identity, one’s view of the world: ‘a complex connective tissue living and elaborating itself in the world and of the world.’155 Poovey has suggested, ‘perhaps the most significant strategy for survival [my italics] was simply the act of writing.’156 Anne Langton instinctively sought a strategy for her own survival as a creative, intelligent, social woman. She found it by relating to her world through her writing and her art, especially after her arrival in Upper Canada. Art A middle-class woman was expected to possess or cultivate sensitivity and an interest in ‘culture,’ but as aids to her personal charm, not as work. Pamela Gerrish Nunn, Victorian Women Artists

As Pamela Nunn avers in her study of Victorian women artists, ‘woman artist’ was not a term taken seriously in nineteenth-century England. Nonetheless, some determined women defied convention to become artists. Not all of them were professionals, and Nunn makes the crucial point that ‘in studying female artists it is important if the authentic range of artists is to be suggested, that the amateur –or rather, the non-professional – artist is considered.’ To reinforce this point, she discusses Louisa Stuart, Lady Water-

52

A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

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9 John Langton, 1845.

Introduction 53

ford (1818–91) as a dedicated but non-professional artist who ‘just wanted to make art.’157 Like Lady Waterford, Anne Langton also represents the non-professional but dedicated artist. She is an amateur in the best sense of the word: she created her work for the love of doing so. Her early artwork was produced during the late Georgian and Regency periods in England, but, in some respects, it foreshadows the work done by early Victorian women artists.158 Her post-emigration work can be examined under the rubric of Victorian art. Although a sizeable proportion of her later work was created during her extended visits to England, she also executed a significant number of works while in Ontario, Quebec, and New Brunswick. Langton is one of a number of gentlewoman artists who came from England and sketched and painted in early Canada. Others included Elizabeth Simcoe, Elizabeth Frances Hale, Anna Jameson, Susanna Moodie, Jane Ellice, Millicent Mary Chaplin, Frances Anne Hopkins, and Juliana Horatia Ewing.159 Of these, Simcoe, Jameson, Ellice, Chaplin, and Ewing remained in Canada for only a limited period. By contrast, Hale, Moodie, and Langton continued to live in Canada for the rest of their lives. During her more than fifty years in Canada, Langton practised her art prolifically, stopping only a few months before her death in 1893. It is probable that her extant artwork is the largest body of work by a female artist in early Canada. Her record traces Canada from the period of remote settlements surrounded by dense forest, as in Fenelon Falls and Bobcaygeon in the 1830s, to small, emerging towns such as Peterborough, to cities such as Toronto, Quebec City, Montreal, and Ottawa. It includes famous sights: Niagara Falls, the Parliament Buildings in Ottawa, and University College in Toronto. Late in life, she took up decorative hand-painting on fine porcelain, basing some of her china decoration on Canadian scenes that she had sketched years earlier. In addition to the sketches published in the first edition of A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada, Langton’s work was used to illustrate the privately printed Langton family volumes, The Story of Our Family, Letters of Thomas Langton, Langton Records, and the posthumously published volume of John Langton’s letters, Early Days in Upper Canada. Yet these illustrations account for only a fraction of the extant body of her work, which numbers several hundred drawings and paintings. Her miniatures date mostly from the first two decades of her adult painting practice and the china painting mostly from her last decade; the landscapes, which constitute the largest portion of her work, date almost entirely from the intervening decades, most of which were spent in Canada.

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10 Mrs John Langton, 1845. Anne’s portrait of her sister-in-law Lydia (née Dunsford).

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The illustrations in the present volume by no means fully represent the range of Langton’s art in content, style, or technique. The miniature portraits of Alice Currer and Ellen and Thomas Langton that appear in the present edition (see figs. 4, 5, and 6) date from the mid-1830s and so represent the family members at a time close to their emigration. Together with her selfportrait of 1840 and her portraits of John Langton and his bride, Lydia (née Dunsford), which date from 1845 (see figs. 9 and 10), they are relatively late examples of Anne’s skills as a miniaturist.160 The portrait of Margaret (Hornby) Langton titled: My Sister-in-Law before She Was Married (see fig. 8), dates from 1831. It is probable that it and the portrait of William Langton as a young man (see fig. 7) were painted as a companion pair at the time of the couple’s engagement. By 1831, Langton was working superbly in the miniature portrait-painting genre. One of the images in her Studio Journals is a copy that she made from a miniature by the renowned French miniaturist Jean-Baptiste Isabey (1767–1855), so she was aware of the French miniaturist school of the day. In 1839, Anne wrote to William’s family that ‘ ... dear Margaret’s picture all seem now inclined to think my best performance,’ adding a rare hint of favourable – though still modest – self-appraisal: ‘I too feel a little proud of it.’161 In her portraits, Langton shows a capacity for empathy with her sitters. Each is literally and metaphorically ‘at home’ with this familial artist. She captures a sense of the inner being behind the face of each individual, from the gravity of aging Ellen, to the ‘romantic’ sensibility of Margaret – and of herself. Langton’s sitters are not artists’ models, but family members or close friends. Commentary on just one portrait – that of Margaret Hornby – will point up Langton’s skills as a miniaturist. Here, Langton presents the bride-to-be as the proverbial English rose. The correspondence between the two is suggested by Margaret’s creamy-white gossamer gown with an actual rose tucked into a smooth, pink satin sash at the waist. Langton’s remarkable talent and technique are revealed in several ways: her aptitude in modelling features; the way in which she evokes various textures, such as those of the gown, rose, hair; her soft rendering of Margaret’s blush-toned complexion, the satin sash, the soft-petalled rose; her ability to capture the youthful liveliness in Margaret’s eyes, the smoothness of her skin.162 Margaret is arrestingly posed with head slightly tilted, in the manner of English miniaturist Richard Cosway (through artistic descent from Van Dyck), as in Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire.163 Margaret is portrayed against an appropriately light, loosely floated sky. As noted earlier, Langton showed serious artistic intent in executing her self-portraits, especially the self-assertive image as an artist at age twenty-one,

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which can be compared with one of Angelica Kauffmann’s more stylish selfportraits of some years earlier.164 In her Studio Journals, Langton used line drawings and titles to record the miniatures she executed, squaring some up for enlargement. She did the same for Old Masters works that she copied throughout the 1820s and 1830s – another indication of her having considered the possibility of becoming a practising, professional artist. Her Studio Journals and ‘diary’ notes for 1821–37 provide evidence of numerous portraits that she executed, including (after 1830) those for which she began receiving payment. These suggest serious artistic commitment. The woman artist flouted both social codes and artistic convention. In artistic traditions, woman was properly the object of desire in ‘the gaze’ of the male artist.165 She was represented in art; she did not create it. Moreover, ‘the numerous self-images produced by male artists in the period ... showed that the identity of the artist was not one which a female person could seriously or effectively inhabit.’166 Given these constraints, it is surprising that Anne Langton, a modest gentlewoman, should have made a number of self-portraits at an early age. Not only did artistic conventions undermine such work but, as was noted above, in the context of life writing, such ‘self-assertion’ was deemed ‘unladylike.’167 Thus, the possibility of internal conflict as a woman artist mirrors that of the woman writer: woman could serve as object/model; she was not, however, supposed to draw attention to herself by taking on the active role of subject/artist. If, nonetheless, a woman did dare to develop her artistic talents and skills, she was usually limited in scope. In genre, media, scale, support, and subject matter, women were encouraged to work within certain bounds, to specialize, for instance, in ‘dainty’ genres, such as flower painting, miniature portrait painting, still life, anecdotal and/or narrative pieces, or watercolour landscape painting and to execute their works on small scale, on paper support.168 Such ‘feminine’ genres (including embroidery and hand decoration of china) demanded patience, observation of the miniscule, and intense concentration – characteristics attributed primarily to women. As late as 1868, a reviewer critiquing works of the Annual Exhibition at the Society of Female Artists for the Art Journal in England could still write, without fear of arousing opposition, that ‘a watercolour sketch is just within reach of female artists’ and, a few paragraphs later, ‘Fruits and flowers seem by divine appointment [to be] the property of ladies, yet in this favourite department, the gallery contains nothing superexcellent.’169 Motivation for women to specialize in these genres included the need for little expenditure on equipment, time, or physical energy. The fact that equipment and materials were small scale and highly portable added to the supposed suitability of these genres for practi-

Introduction 57

tioners who were considered to be physically delicate and weak. A further important consideration for a gentlewoman: working in the ‘lesser’ genres meant that she did not risk getting herself ‘messy,’ as was likely with the favoured ‘high art’ genres: painting in oils on canvas or sculpting. Moreover, ‘feminine’ art forms could be conducted within or close to the home, thus discouraging women from venturing far afield, keeping them accessible and ‘on call’ for domestic duties. Women, then, were not encouraged to work in capacious studios or in the prestigious genres in which male artists specialized: sculpture or large-scale portrait painting, landscapes, and historical scenes, usually worked in oils on canvas. Few women had a ‘painting room,’ let alone a studio.170 Barred from membership in professional art associations – by virtue of their gender and their purported ‘inferior’ talent – women were also barred, for reasons of propriety, from studying the human form in life classes, where students painted from nude models. A woman art student could not, therefore, acquire the grounding in figure drawing that would enable her to execute major works of historical significance or dramatic action. When a woman represented human subjects, she usually portrayed women or children – flowing or billowing garments could, after all, conceal flaws in the artist’s ability to portray the human form in anatomically correct manner. The figures were usually depicted in sedate or anecdotal moments. Animals were another popular subject for women artists. Women artists often depicted their human and animal subjects in sentimental or coy poses, or circumstances, as in Emma Brownlow’s The Foundling Restored to its Mother or Charlotte Schreiber’s The Lost Playmate. If a woman did pursue her art beyond conventional limitations, or aspire to work professionally within given constraints, she was seldom encouraged as an artist to enter public spaces to exhibit her work. She was welcome to visit galleries as a decorative, passive viewer, an ‘ornament’ to the scene, but not as artist, reviewer, critic. Nor, in the case of exhibitions at art associations, could she participate as a full member.171 From the beginning of the nineteenth century, some art associations and societies gradually admitted a select few women artists to their circle, but only as associate members. They had no rights, privileges, or voting powers. Women were thus rendered voiceless. In weighing the merits of works by male and female artists, differing critical ‘values’ were assigned. In this context, language as ‘code’ takes on added significance. When, in rare instances, reviewers gave attention to work by women artists, they tended to describe it in dismissive terms as ‘dainty,’ ‘pretty,’ ‘charming,’ and ‘modest’ in aim.172 Eventually, in 1857, the Society of Female Artists – which exhibited works by women only – was founded in London, but it always lacked sufficient funds to function as well as other gal-

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leries and societies. Moreover, its members and their work came in for harsh, disparaging criticism by reviewers and critics. New World, New Beginnings Concomitant to the cult of touring, an entire aesthetic philosophy emerged as writers, artists, and travellers actively hunted examples of the sublime, the beautiful, and the picturesque in natural scenery. Definitions of these three categories were developed not only with regard to natural scenery but also visual art and landscape design.173 The ‘sublime,’ according to Edmund Burke, evoked emotions of fear and awe in the viewer through such attributes as ‘obscurity,’ ‘vastness,’ and ‘infinity.’ Types of subjects likely to arouse responses of awe were towering, craggy rocks, tumultuous waterfalls, storm-riven trees, lowering skies. Burke claimed that subjects of ultimate sublimity excited the viewer emotionally, while simultaneously threatening to annihilate him or her.174 Niagara Falls, with its association of imminent danger (if one came too close to the precipice) and primeval forest setting, was regarded as the supreme example of the ‘sublime.’175 In European visual art, the wild, ‘untamed’ landscape paintings of Salvator Rosa came to epitomize representation of the sublime.176 By contrast, Burke saw the ‘beautiful,’ as arousing the response of ‘love,’ through attributes such as ‘smallness,’ ‘delicacy’ of form, and colours that were ‘clear and fair ... the milder sort.’ The beautiful could be found in pastoral, idyllic scenes: softly undulating fields, lightly wooded slopes, streams meandering between gently rising banks. In landscape art, pastoral scenes of the Roman Campagna by artists such as Claude Lorrain and Nicolas Poussin were viewed as significantly representative of the ‘beautiful,’ even ‘ideal,’ with some features of picturesque depiction especially by the landscape theorist and prominent landowner Richard Payne Knight.177 The Reverend William Gilpin, a quiet English country parson, drew up extensive theories regarding the ‘Picturesque’ and sketched scenes to illustrate his opinions. Payne Knight endorsed a stricter definition, derived from the Italian term pittoresco – ‘in the manner of painters.’ In Britain, painters renowned for their picturesque views included Thomas Girtin, Paul Sandby, and Alexander and Robert Cozens, as well as J.M.W. Turner and John Constable in their early works. These artists were working in picturesque mode in the decades either immediately preceding or following Anne Langton’s birth. She would have been familiar with their landscape depictions from viewing their original works in exhibitions or printed reproductions. Key characteristics of the picturesque, whether in the tangible form such as gardens and parks, or in depiction on paper or canvas, included ‘intricacy’

Introduction 59

and ‘variety.’178 Intricacy meant that some landscape features were suggested, rather than explicitly delineated: ‘openings’ or ‘recesses’ were tantalizingly suggested between trees, or a foreground river eventually meandered out of sight. Variety was attained by including groupings of objects differing in size or shape (e.g., within clumps of foreground vegetation), or between differing groupings (e.g., bushes, trees, rocks). Added variety resulted from contrasting physical landscape features (woods, sky, hills, water), structures (buildings, carts, boats), and staffage (the judicious placing of human or animal figures). Buildings and staffage also ‘enlivened’ the scene and added scale. Additional features might be a sweeping, semi-circular background of hills, winding rivers, or curving paths of country estates. ‘Contrast’ was an important requirement, especially of lights and shades in varying tones and hues, its ultimate achievement being strong effects of chiaroscuro. ‘Novelty’ and ‘surprise’ were also favoured picturesque attributes. Anne Langton’s art and writing offer examples of and references to, the sublime, the beautiful, and the picturesque. Following her emigration, we find evidence of the conflict she experienced when confronted with North American scenes that did not fit neatly into these categories, and we shall discover some ways in which she resolved apparent discrepancies. On their journey to Canada in 1837, Anne Langton and her father viewed at least one exhibition, at the National Academy in New York. This was the annual exhibition of the paintings of ‘native artists,’ which she summed up thus: ‘There are two rooms pretty well filled, but offering a greater proportion of very indifferent things than the exhibitions of Liverpool and Manchester.’179 Before leaving New York, Anne stocked up on art supplies prior to disappearing into the Canadian wilderness: ‘There are things to tempt one here too. I made a purchase of a Chinese paint-box containing two saucers of gold, one of silver, a dozen of various colours, besides empty saucers, colour rubbers, etc. – indian ink, and a dozen or two brushes, for all of which I gave three and a half dollars.180 The Langtons were soon travelling along the Hudson River valley, a landscape that inspired many American artists from the 1820s through the 1840s. There was a growing movement to progress beyond derivative imitation of European scenes, towards the depiction of an American ‘national’ landscape in painting.181 By the 1840s, there would be a recognizable Hudson River School of American art, and Thomas and Anne would have viewed some of its early representations at the exhibition they attended in New York. Inspired herself by the impressive scenery, Langton began sketching in earnest as she journeyed, later commenting how the Hudson River landscape struck her as ‘especially romantic,’ a phrase she never applies to Canadian scenery.182

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11 Niagara from the Canadian Side, 1837. A slight preliminary graphite sketch. Anne, dissatisfied with her efforts, described it as ‘my presumptuous representation.’ In later decades, she executed fine watercolour renderings of this subject.

At Niagara, Langton appears, temporarily, to have lost her artistic selfconfidence (see fig. 11). The falls, she realizes, are on a scale so vast that they are difficult to take in on first encounter. As she writes to her brother William, ‘I had certainly intended sending you my presumptuous representation of Niagara ... When people talk of being disappointed with the Falls I think they do not rightly understand their own feelings. I was (especially at first) unsatisfied, but it was not with them but with myself. I had a consciousness of the vastness of the scene and at the same time of my own incapacity to conceive it’ (20 July 1837). Anne soon regained her confidence and continued to produce her art. Her achievements are all the more remarkable when we take into account her artistic isolation from 1837 to 1847. By 1837 there was some artistic activity in Toronto. The Society of Artists and Amateurs of Toronto had held their first exhibition in 1834, but, owing to an outbreak of cholera, it was closed

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12 Near Brin Ganno, c. 1834. A typical rural topographical view of Bryn Ganno, North Wales, in picturesque tradition.

after the first day.183 It was thirteen years before the city hosted another exhibition. By then, Langton was in England on a return visit, so she would have seen neither show.184 Artists active in Canada during these years included British-born and -trained, topographical artists Charles Fothergill (1782– 1840) and Captain Richard Henry Bonnycastle (1791–1847). In comparison with Langton’s work, Fothergill’s is far more literal and unembellished. Langton may already have been familiar with the work of some early topographical artists in Canada through prints and travel books published in Britain. Such artists included Woolwich-trained Thomas Davies (c. 1737– 1812), George Heriot (1766–1844), and James Pattison Cockburn (1778– 1847). Heriot published a series of picturesque Canadian views as Travels through the Canadas in London in 1807. Cockburn published Canadian views in Britain in the early 1830s.185 Although many other artists, mostly male, were documenting the early Canadian scene, Langton had no access even to the small art world in Toronto, much less to work by other artists in Canada, to see how hers compared with theirs – male or female, amateur or professional.

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13 Landing at Blythe, 1837. This dense scenery was the first glimpse that the Langtons got of John’s property – the setting for their new home – when they emigrated in 1837.

The tradition of painting landscape for its own sake (rather than as mere backdrop to a religious, historical, or mythological event or subject) became increasingly widespread in Europe during the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, especially in Britain. Langton went on a number of sketching tours through England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland during the 1820s and 1830s. Her sketchbook drawings trace some of her itineraries and reveal her gradually evolving style, as well as her awareness of a growing repertoire of landscape views by famous artists.186 Her pencil sketch Near Brin Ganno (fig. 12) was probably executed in the early or mid-1830s. It is an example of the kind of picturesque rural view that she was producing before her emigration. Her 1837 sketch Landing at Blythe (fig. 13) is based on the same picturesque principles, but those principles are tested by a vastly different reality. Langton has to adjust her values to convey

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the ‘strangeness’ (to European eyes) of the new environment. Here the scene is neither a gentle rural landscape nor a beautiful pastoral view. Instead, the viewer is confronted by the ruggedness of an untamed landscape, with a ragged shoreline strewn with the detritus of settlement – unsightly stumps and fallen tree branches left to decay. Dense, primeval forests extend down to the shoreline. One classic feature of landscape sketching is, however, partially retained: the Claudian ‘repoussoir,’ or ‘framing’ device – in this case a screen of tall trees on one side.187 Langton is careful to give an accurate visual ‘description’ by including intrinsic characteristics of this place such as the encroaching wilderness, fallen logs, and uneven ground, but she is also careful not to give too literal a ‘translation.’ She has three reasons for not startling her (non-local) viewers with this scene. First, they will fear (as she does) for the safety of the ‘old people’ in walking over such rough terrain.188 Second, she does not wish her viewers to realize just how wild the place really looks. Finally, she does not wish to compromise her reputation as an artist by depicting something that has few favourable attributes, when judged strictly according to European aesthetic standards. So she includes some softening, picturesque features such as the smooth, rounded lines of the cove and the gentle curves of skiff and canoe. Langton adapts her work in two ways. First, she includes actual but potentially unpleasant features – that is, ones that, while indigenous to North America, may be discordant with European aesthetic principles – such as the primeval forest, but places the densest, tangled ‘bush’ on the distant horizon. Second, she takes some liberties by picturesquely or tastefully arranging disfiguring objects. Thus, tree branches, though fallen and decaying, retain some evidence of life: a few picturesque sprays of leaves ‘adorn’ them. Following Gilpin’s recommendation, she also culls ugly objects, such as stumps.189 She brings the disparate elements together into a satisfying whole that, while not overwhelming the viewer, does give a sense of isolation. There is a wanness to this view. A landing place should be welcoming. Instead, it seems somewhat forlorn and eerie, a psychological projection, perhaps, of how the artist feels at this particular moment. Another subject that did not fit neatly into Langton’s British-European landscape repertoire was the local First Nations encampment. She worked at least two versions of Indian Encampment near Blythe: a preliminary one in graphite and a more finished one in ink and graphite (on brownish-grey wove paper). The version reproduced in this volume is the more finished one (see fig. 14). There may have been a third, even more-polished, rendering that Langton executed for a bazaar that was to be held in Scotland in 1839 to raise funds for a

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14 Indian Encampment near Blythe, c. 1839. This sketch offers a remarkably spontaneous rendering of First Nations and their environment, in comparison with more conventional tropes of ‘noble savages.’

church and school at Fenelon. James Wallis was to make a visit to Glasgow and take the contributions over with him. Anne and John Langton were both invited to send items. As Anne wrote on 4 April 1839, ‘John, who used to be [a] great enemy [of bazaars] ... enters with much spirit into the idea of this, and has laid two or three plans for his own execution. I am to send sketches of loghouses and shanties, etc. I wish our scenes were more beautiful and the artist more skilful.’ For Anne, self-appraisal was an ongoing reality. At times, she is somewhat pleased with her artistic accomplishments; at others, she is a harsh critic. Self-deprecation came easily, of course, for a well-bred gentlewoman and is evident again as she continues to discuss items for the bazaar:190 ‘I rather think the interest of my sketches will be quite superseded by John’s handiwork. He is taxing his ingenuity for the bazaar, and producing models of things purely Canadian. He says he is afraid some of the rudeness necessary to correct representation may, by the uninitiated, be considered the clumsiness of the workman. I think his productions will look only too neat and nice.’191

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Langton’s Indian Encampment is of interest from a sociological as well as an artistic viewpoint. It gives a white settler’s response to an example of the Other – in this instance, a First Nations family group whose culture and lifestyle in no way resemble the artist’s. It contrasts with many other nineteenth-century artists’ treatments of Original Peoples. In conventional iconography, the ‘Indians’ would be posed as either ‘noble savages’ or quaint ‘natives’ to satisfy the curiosity of ‘civilized’ viewers for specimens of exotic foreign cultures (foreign, that is, to the observer’s eyes).192 Langton, instead, depicts a closeknit group of women and children occupied in simple domestic tasks: caring for the young, cooking, and weaving. The artist places herself at the First Peoples’ (ground) level and at some distance. There are no European-style decorative touches here. Instead, Langton delineates the simplicity of the family’s lifestyle. She selects details that reflect the First Peoples’ close relation to nature: they sit, at ease, on the earth, working on tasks or resting; they cook outdoors, over a fire and eat outdoors; their basic garments, baskets, and shelter are hand-crafted from natural materials. Although the awning of plaited grasses and supporting boughs can be seen as a picturesque touch, it fills an essential need for the people, not the artwork. The people and the natural environment are one. We cannot know to what extent Langton was consciously working against traditional portrayal of the ‘alien’ Other, but, apart from framing repoussoirs, she eschews artifice here. Yet her artistic skills remain in evidence, with occasional use of negative space to create volume or depth and the use of varied hatching strokes to suggest the rough texture of tree bark, light airiness of the canopy, and faint background screen of more-distant trees. By contrast, two sketches of interiors show a decidedly ‘picturesque’ character: Interior of John’s House, Looking North (fig. 15) and Interior of John’s House, Looking South (fig. 16). These views show the main room of John’s ‘little mansion,’ where rustic simplicity is evident in the design of the cabin and its basic furnishings. Some of Anne’s earlier sketches adorn the walls, but for purely practical purposes: in 1834, John had written, in his laconic style, ‘I have ... a commission for Anne; I want her to paint or draw for me in her most superior style two pieces about 15 inches by 10 inches to conceal the deformity of my walls ... I am making curly maple frames. [I have] the guns, pistols, pipes, axes and other savage accoutrements ... arranged in the most tasty manner around my rooms.193 Apropos of utilitarian matters, while writing about repairs, cooking, and other such subjects, in her journal, Anne sometimes scribbled a quick sketch as accompanying visual reference. Hence, her sketch in April 1839 of the oven and another in October 1938 of the dining-room fireplace to which her

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15 Interior of John’s House Looking North, 1837.

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16 Interior, John’s House Looking South, 1837. The two views of John’s cabin interior demonstrate the utter simplicity of settler existence, with a few added cultural refinements, such as books and art work.

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17 Candle-Making Machine, 1846. Candle making was one of Anne Langton’s least favourite and most time-consuming chores – hence this labour-saving device invented by her brother John.

mother has just taken a trowel (the workmen being at lunch) to effect ‘a neat repair.’ She describes the impetus for the oven sketch thus: ‘We have seven men at work today ... So many mouths make large bakings, and whilst superintending the operations at the oven to-day it occurred to me that a representation of it might add something to the interest of this stupid journal. Now I must go and see what the oven has been doing for me whilst I have been doing it so much honour. It has returned the compliment very handsomely’ (19 April 1839). As though to preserve her artistic reputation, she adds, ‘I dare not give any shading to this complicated little sketch for fear of making matters worse. Like John, I am afraid it will be supposed the inexpertness of the artist has produced this confusion.’194 Her portfolio of Canadiana also includes the utilitarian invention designed by John as a labour-

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saving device for his sister, a candle-making machine (fig. 17). It is well to keep in mind that, even at the least busy of times, Anne’s art could be created only in the interstices of her other work. Apparently, none of Anne Langton’s embroidery (‘fine needlework’) has survived, or at least has not yet come to light. In the past thirty years, feminist scholars have given attention to embroidery and its significance in women’s lives. In The Dinner Party, Judy Chicago commented on the historical lack of recognition for this art form as well as that of china painting.195 The tradition of almost universal anonymity among practitioners in embroidery has not assisted the process of historical reconstruction and reclamation. In The Subversive Stitch: Embroidery and the Making of the Feminine, Rozsika Parker notes that, by the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, women’s embroidery was seen ‘not as an art, but entirely as the expression of femininity’ to be practised by women almost exclusively within the home. Concomitantly, it became ‘categorised as craft.’196 It is possible that none of Langton’s embroidery pieces, which she worked throughout most of her life, bore an identifying mark to indicate its ‘worker.’ In contrast, her graceful monogram (though not full signature) is found on the back of most of the surviving pieces of her handpainting on china.197 From references to her embroidery work in her journals and from evidence in her china painting inventory (a handwritten record dating from the last decade or so of her life), we learn that Langton executed most of this work with the express purpose of presenting the pieces to family and friends as personal gifts, or of donating them to charity (for example, to church bazaars in Peterborough, Lindsay, Bobcaygeon, and Toronto), thus extending her philanthropic outreach.198 Langton viewed her embroidery as a significant and pleasurable occupation. She refers in her journals to ongoing ‘fancy work’ projects. While, historically, embroidery was often worked with specific purpose to ornament domestic and utilitarian objects – perhaps a tea cosy or an apron – its aesthetic value was usually the uppermost consideration. There was also an underlying moral purpose in teaching young gentlewomen to embroider. In Letters to a Young Lady, Mrs West highly recommended embroidery as an occupation conducive to virtuous conduct, referring to the needle as ‘that useful implement,’ praising it as a woman’s ‘constant preservative against lassitude’ and an instrument for the practice of the ladylike virtues of ‘economy, neatness and elegance.’199 As the woman in charge of running a pioneer household, Anne took on all kinds of sewing, assisted by her mother and aunt in day-to-day ‘plain sewing.’

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The older women had earlier been Anne’s expert mentors in all types of needlework. Describing chair covers that Ellen and Alice had made, she noted, ‘I do not think any ladies on the lake have better fitting garments than our two arm-chairs’ (13 April 1839). For Anne, embroidery was a ‘recreational’ diversion from regular sewing. Like her sketching, however, her fancy work was relegated to spare moments, taking second place to essential needlework: ‘You may generally imagine me in an evening with my [embroidery] frame before me, as I am just now very straight with common making and mending. My needle being thus at liberty has induced me to commence my great undertaking’ (6 September 1840). Her ‘great undertaking’ is explained by Ellen Philips: ‘The “chair” often mentioned consisted of two pieces of tapestry work, one the Langton coat-of-arms, for the seat, the other a fancy sketch – two girls, one holding a basket of roses, in a frame, with wreaths of flowers round.’200 On 7 February 1841, Langton records, ‘I have one very interesting circumstance to mention – I put the finishing stitch to the centre-piece of my chair, namely, the coat-of-arms. As my [fancy needle]work sometimes stands still for a week or two and sometimes for a month or two, I think it is pretty well to have advanced thus far in six months. And now that all requiring the artist is finished, it is immaterial whether the remainder is completed by myself or by my heirs and executors.’ Art, craft, or skill? Embroidery is one of those practices that still causes confusion for classifiers. Certainly the practitioner is required to learn various techniques and to acquire and develop a number of different skills. If, like Langton, they also create their own designs, then they artfully combine the aesthetic and the technical: ‘I have just finished a pair of screens as a wedding present to Mr. Wallis. I think the performance very successful. They are on wood, in the old style, but a little more brilliant in colour than former ones. I have adopted turpentine and varnish instead of water-colour for my border, and the colouring-matter is no other than the powder blue you sent us out for less elegant purposes’ (8 March 1840).201 Langton’s interest in experiment and development are sustained in this genre, as in her art and her writing. And, as in those other areas, her self-appraisal continues. At Blythe Farm, aesthetic appreciation and practice extended beyond the domestic interior to include ornamentation of the garden and overall design of the farm property, including the layout and design of utilitarian buildings. This was a familial enterprise, involving John, Ellen, and Anne in planning and implementation. By the mid-eighteenth century in Britain and Europe, country estate grounds had become settings for the practice of landscape art

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18 Blythe, 1837 or 1838. This early sketch of the farmhouse – prior to landscaping – shows the good architectural bones of John Langton’s well-proportioned design.

and garden design, according to the principles of the sublime, beautiful, and picturesque. Influential commentators such as Reverend William Gilpin, Richard Payne Knight, Uvedale Price, and Humphry Repton advocated such approaches, as did landscape gardener Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown. On a similar though far less grand scale and in less opulent style, the Langtons created a version of an English country estate at Blythe Farm. Anne made numerous sketches – from differing viewpoints – of the house and grounds over the years. They reveal a remarkable specimen of early Canadian domestic architecture. The farmhouse itself, Blythe (1837 or 1838), designed by John, was well-proportioned in all respects (see fig. 18). It had an overriding simplicity, blending function and form in a practical way. Nonetheless, a few features went beyond essential, practical considerations for a settler dwelling, lending the home a graceful dignity. Its larger size and ‘grander’ appearance, some windows in Gothic style, and an arched verandah along one side distinguished the house while landscaping details enhanced the setting. Ellen grew roses and vines entwined around the supporting verandah posts.202 Introduced into the simple lines and appropriate proportions of the house design, such European details might appear incongruous, but, thanks to

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19 Blythe, 1841. This view shows early exterior and landscaping embellishments.

John’s restraint of scale, they were harmonious. His scale drawings included details for the whole property, itemizing anticipated crops and the positioning of fences, the root house, the icehouse, and so on. Utility buildings, such as a carpentry workshop, were discerningly placed behind the house (as recommended by Repton and Brown); Miss Currer’s poultry house and yard were discreetly screened behind a tall board fence. A flagstaff erected near the house, flying the British flag, proclaimed the family’s allegiance to the mother country. The Langtons gradually transformed the area around the house into an attractive garden, with judiciously placed groups of trees, shrubs, and bushes. A curved gravel path, leading from road to verandah, gave the visitor the sense of a gradual approach to the residence. Flower beds and a grassy plat ornamented the space immediately in front and to the side of the house, seen in the now faint Blythe (1841) (fig. 19).203 The property took on some aspects of a European ferme ornée.204 Women artists frequently made visual documentation of homes, reinforcing their close connection with familial and relational ties. Another common motif in women’s art was the representation of domestic interiors.205 Surprisingly, Anne Langton worked few interiors, perhaps indicating a personal pref-

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20 Family Party at Blythe, 1842. This sketch shows a portrait of a family now happily ‘at home’ in Canada, five years after their arrival. Besides their familiar furniture, the Langtons are surrounded by treasured books and art objects, including a bust of William Langton, which reflect their cultivated background and interests. Together, they enjoy rare moments of leisure, indulging in favourite pastimes: Ellen Langton reads a letter, Alice Currer is knitting (her needles and knitting material now almost indistinguishable), John is engrossed in a book, while Anne plays with one of the pets close to the fireside.

erence for landscape sketching. Her sketch Family Party at Blythe, 1842 (fig. 20), however, is a noteworthy interior group portrait, including family pets. Anne executed it for her English nieces and nephews as a ‘lesson-card,’ so they could point to the various ‘Canadian’ family members and name them.206 It shows the tastefully furnished parlour that this genteel English family had created for themselves. Family members are seen engrossed in evening pastimes: Uncle John – with cat in his lap and dog sprawled at his feet – is deep in a book, Grandmama reads a letter, Great Aunt Alice sits quietly knitting, Aunt Anne stands by the fire, patting one of the dogs, while another cat contentedly contemplates the blaze. Even ‘absent’ William is included, in the form of the bust surmounting the bookcase.

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21 Church, Fenelon Falls, c. 1839. Anne Langton’s chosen low vantage point underlines the precarious nature of early churches in the wilderness. The simple, unembellished structure crowns the top of the hill but is almost lost to view among the trees.

Langton also sketched views further afield in the Kawartha Lakes region. At Fenelon she drew the falls themselves (see p. xxxvi), the bridge, the mill, the landing, the church (see fig. 21), and the home of James Wallis in Maryboro’ Lodge.207 A panoramic view of the area, From the Church, Northwards, Fenelon Falls (fig. 22), indicated local landmarks and some settlers’ properties. At Bobcaygeon Anne sketched the rapids, the bridge over the lock, and the home of lumber merchant Mossom Boyd;208 near Bobcaygeon she drew the Beehive, home of the Dunsford family. Langton’s view Landing, Fenelon Falls (back cover), an elegant composition, is one of only two extant sketches that she worked in full watercolour while living at Blythe. The other backwoods sketch in which Langton uses full watercolour is Backwoodsman in His Winter Costume (fig. 23), where dabs of colour heighten the embroidery on the moccasins and the traditional scarlet sash of the woodsman. (John Langton was apparently the model for this sketch.) Langton’s interesting presentation of the backwoodsman is worth noting: he leans against a stump – that ubiquitous symbol of settler life – as naturally as a European aristocrat might pose

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22 From the Church, Northwards, Fenelon Falls, c. 1839. This noteworthy panorama indicating local landmarks and some settlers’ properties takes on historical importance with its (albeit slight) pencilled-in landmarks and notations. It foreshadows Anne’s later accomplished panorama of Quebec City and the surrounding countryside.

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23 Backwoodsman in His Winter Costume, c. 1838. Anne Langton’s interesting portrayal of a hard-working, New World landowner and his remote settlement both parallels and contrasts with classic portrayals of Old World lords and their grand estates.

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for his portrait with his arm resting on a classic pedestal with, perhaps, a view of his castle grounds as backdrop. John’s backdrop, as lord of his New World land, is a line of bare trees, behind a snake fence, with stumps dotted around him. In place of gun or sword, he sports an axe, another iconic Canadian image. Meanwhile, in contrast to his fashionable attire in Anne’s portraits of him as a young city man in England, he here wears the practical backwoodsman costume: warm blanket coat, fringed belt of scarlet cloth, woolly cap, kerchief tied around his neck, his feet tucked into embroidered moccasins. Langton’s backwoods portfolio was not achieved without a certain amount of personal discomfort. As she writes on 7 July 1839, ‘The mosquitoes are sailing about us in all directions ... You would not readily imagine the amount of resolution it requires to sit still making a sketch when the flies are bad ... After sketching one afternoon I counted thirty-eight bites on one foot, and twenty-six on the other, to say nothing of hands, face, neck, etc.’ In contrast to her earlier years in England, when miniature painting dominated her work, landscape sketching became the main genre in which she worked in the New World. This can be explained, in part, by her reduced amount of leisure time. On a settler farm, there would be few opportunities to work in portraiture; neither artist nor sitter had sufficient time to spare for the lengthy sittings required. Just four extant miniatures are found in Langton’s post-emigration body of work: the companion portraits of herself and John (1840) and the pair of commemorative engagement/wedding portrait miniatures, John Langton and Mrs. John Langton from 1845 (figs. 9 and 10). Records of women artists were mostly neglected by the traditional art world until the 1970s, when American art scholar Linda Nochlin raised the question ‘Why have there been no great women artists?’ Things have changed greatly since Nochlin’s article and subsequent book appeared. The history of women artists has progressed from the traditional view that there were few and that, of the few who did practise art consistently, there were even fewer who exhibited sufficient intellectual and artistic rigour to reach the high standard that male artists attained. The past three decades have seen more integrative critical approaches to women artists’ achievements and recognition of their contributions to the field. Anne Langton’s work is a significant contribution to the body of historical Canadian art created by women. Three Editions of Anne Langton’s Writing Editors are the midwives of texts. They do not create the text, but they work to ensure that its arrival in the world goes as smoothly as possible. It was

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Anne Langton’s English niece, Ellen Josephine Philips – the daughter of Anne’s elder brother, William – who edited and arranged her aunt’s letters as Langton Records. The book was printed ‘for private circulation only’ in Edinburgh in 1904, eleven years after Anne’s death. Philips thus began the process of conversion from private record to public document. Almost fifty years later, Hugh Hornby Langton – the son of Anne’s younger brother, John – edited his aunt’s letters for formal publication in Canada as A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada. Without these two timely interventions, the text of Anne Langton’s journals and letters might never have seen the public light of day and might have been lost to posterity. Although Anne Langton’s original letters and most of her original journals have been lost, two discrete items, each containing about a decade’s worth of her jottings, do exist. These notes cover the years 1821–37 and 1881–91. Each set is no more than a few pages in length, and entries comprise only a few phrases or short sentences per year.209 Their existence, however, raises the question: Did Langton keep journals at other times? Unfortunately, we simply do not know the answer. In this introduction and in annotation to the text itself, I have included a considerable amount of new information about Langton’s childhood and her adulthood prior to emigration. I also give a brief account of her later years in the afterword. New information about these ‘bookends’ of Anne Langton’s life puts her years as a settler and her writing and artwork into broader perspective. In addition to Langton Records and The Story of Our Family, a third privately printed source of Langton family material, Letters of Thomas Langton, provides details of the first three years of the family’s extended European tour during Anne’s formative years. Useful sources for information about the family’s years just prior to emigration include some of John Langton’s letters from Canada (1833–7) in handwritten and typescript versions as well as the published edition of his letters, Early Days in Upper Canada.210 These sources yield material for Buss’s recommended double and contextual readings of a text. The memoir is especially useful as it is written by Anne herself, covers all periods of her life, and provides some details of the family’s years in Fenelon that are not found in her journals and letters of 1837–46. Langton’s account of her later years reveals them as a time of personal fulfilment and further artistic development. When Anne Langton’s writing first appeared before the public in 1950, she had been dead for almost sixty years. H.H. Langton died three years after the publication of A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada, at ninety-one years of age. Initially reluctant to bring out an edition of his aunt’s letters, he expressed doubts as to whether the reading public would be interested in what he

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described as ‘the distaff’ side of pioneering life. His friend Mrs C.D.H. (Lena) MacAlpine, to whom he dedicated A Gentlewoman, was responsible for persuading him to publish the letters and journals.211 H.H. Langton believed that, in the postwar era of ‘meritocracy,’ a more egalitarian-minded public had little appetite for the writings and art of a gentlewoman born into the upperclass stratum of British society in the early nineteenth century.212 He tellingly indicates his perspective in his eight-page preface, which does not refer directly to Anne Langton – who is, of course, the author of the journals and letters – until the sixth page, where he observes: ‘As most of the letters in this volume are from Anne, it might be well to give some account of her.’213 It is remarkable that H.H. Langton undertook the editing task at all, as he was in his late eighties at the time. Publication finally occurred, but at a less than ideal time, given its subject matter, editor’s age, and the change in social attitudes immediately following the Second World War. Nevertheless, the material had become a ‘public’ record. It received some favourable, brief reviews,214 but then was all but lost to scholars’ attention for decades. Reviewers did not take the material as seriously as they might have, tending to see it only as a ‘charming’ socio-historical account by a woman. No one read it as ‘literature’ per se, nor was there a specific category of women’s studies in which to place it. Besides, prior to the 1970s, unless a woman was a novelist or poet, there was little possibility that her work would be read as literature. In 1950, there was barely a trace of the stirrings that would lead to feminist reassessment of the value of such writings, both as a historical and literary artefact. The potential audience for the 1950 edition was, then, of limited range. As noted in the preface to the present edition, E.J. Philips’s earlier edition yields considerable material that was omitted from the H.H. Langton volume but has been incorporated here. I indicate instances of such additions in the footnotes to the present text with the words ‘recovered material.’ Most of this material expands our knowledge of Anne Langton as woman, artist, and journalizer. It also allows readers to re-evaluate Langton’s significance with respect to early emigration, settlement, and pioneer experience. The letters and journals from Canada had been given to Philips by William Langton, the original recipient. In her preface, she writes, ‘they seemed to me to be very well worth preserving, as a vivid picture of the domestic life of an early settlement in that district of Canada.’215 Each editor renders Anne Langton’s portrait in a new light, from a different perspective, against a different background. E.J. Philips’s version reflects the viewpoint of an editor charmed by the ‘lovely romance’ of the Canadian backwoods and settler life – perhaps because she never had to live it!216 She

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also showed no hesitation in including personal, domestic, even trivial, details. It is crucial to note, however, that she produced her edition for a private audience of family members and friends who had close personal connections to the protagonists of the tale. H.H. Langton as editor was distanced by more than a century from the actual events. More selective of the material to be published, he gives far fewer intimate family details, personal anecdotes, and reminiscences than Philips does. When he does include such items, he often reduces their length. His omissions sometimes consist of passages dealing with what might have been regarded as more ‘female’ preoccupations: familial relationships, day-today relations with servants, so-called domestic trivia, though he certainly does not entirely exclude these topics. He also may not have wished to strain the patience of an audience who lacked personal connection to the Langtons. Moreover, because the material was written by a woman, his readers were unlikely to be reading the volume for critical study. He thus mainly addressed a general audience. Although this new edition addresses itself primarily to scholars and students, it also aims to engage the interest of general readers. The main differences between the two prior editions of Langton’s journals and letters have to do with focus and emphasis and the editors’ awareness of the interests and social context of their audience. E.J. Philips’s version dates from just three years after the end of Queen Victoria’s reign in Britain; H.H. Langton’s, from a few years after the end of the Second World War. Vast technological, cultural, and social changes had occurred in the interim, so the perspectives of their intended audiences differed greatly. Moreover, E.J. Philips’s audience was primarily British; H.H. Langton’s, Canadian. In addition, although they were first cousins, Ellen, born in Manchester in the mid1830s, was almost thirty years older than Hugh, who was born in Quebec in 1862. Ellen briefly visited the Canadian ‘backwoods’ in 1854, at about twenty years of age. Hugh, raised in Quebec, Ottawa, and Toronto, and educated at Upper Canada College and the University of Toronto, never lived in the backwoods, nor did he know that area during its early settlement years. The two editors were, then, a generation and an ocean apart in age, experience, heritage. From Philips’s volume, we learn more particulars of Anne’s artistic sensibilities and cultural pursuits. Her edition also strongly conveys the close personal link that she and her siblings felt to the pioneering stage of the Langton family’s life. Anne’s and John’s letters and journals were a major part of her life from earliest childhood. In contrast, H.H. Langton learned of the pioneer years through family conversations, until he read the letters and journals for himself many decades after the time of Anne’s writing. Understandably, his

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edition includes far less detail on William and his family than E.J. Philips does. She, for instance, occasionally includes opening and closing remarks from Anne, remarks that movingly evoke affectionate family ties: ‘with ... my best love, and many kisses to the dear little trio [her nieces],’ and ‘Give them now their aunt’s kind love, and just as many kisses as will not quite smother them.’217 H.H. Langton often omits passages in which Anne discusses her journal writing and artwork. For today’s audience, these are of crucial interest. It is probable that he regarded such references as relatively insignificant, not only because they did not come from the pen or brush of a professional writer/artist but also because they were produced by a woman. Yet such material offers insights into her writing and sketching methods and her maturing consciousness. We learn of her ‘self’ through her eyes: she comments on, or indirectly conveys, her self-doubts, self-awareness, selfrepresentation, and self-expression. She also conveys her initial dread of aging, as well as her increasing self-confidence as years pass. H.H. Langton also tends to omit other entries on topics that he perhaps found of less than gripping interest: recurring references to weather, housework, daily chores, sickness. The present edition restores forfeited material in these areas, too, including many references to the ongoing health problems of Ellen, Alice, and others. Admittedly, some subjects that H.H. Langton omits have the potential to be almost as tedious in the telling as in the doing. Yet, retrieval of some of these passages – often mere snippets or asides – teach us more about the author and her times. The ‘gentlewoman-artist’ metamorphoses into the epitome of a capable, hard-working settler. We learn about her domestic trials and frustrations, her anxieties over her aging relatives’ declining health, her doubts as to her ability to care for them in the absence of professional medical service. We also acquire a deeper understanding of the utter drudgery and tedium of much of the work that women settlers performed. I have not restored all references to such subjects, but those that I have retained increase the accuracy and value of the material. My own omissions are made, for the most part, to reduce the overall length of the volume. They are indicated thus [...]. News of extended family members is a category of material that H.H. Langton sometimes omits. I follow his lead and go further, omitting some instances that he included. For all three earlier audiences (Anne Langton’s original readers and the 1904 and 1950 audiences), references to family members and friends would have had more direct relevance and significance than they can have today. The protagonists and their relatives were well known to each other at the time of Anne’s writing and were still known,

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through oral family history, to the following two generations. Most passing references to relatives and friends of the Langtons, especially those in Britain, can have no significance for a current audience. While not removing all examples of this kind, I usually omit material relating to individuals who appear only once or who figure in a very minor way. I occasionally include other voices besides Anne’s: those of Thomas, Ellen, and John, as Philips and H.H. Langton did in their editions. Thomas and John comment on aspects of early settler life that Anne scarcely mentions: politics, the economy, and financial situation of the ‘young’ country. John’s comments are particularly noteworthy, given his interest and later participation in public life.218 Thomas and John are perceptive, philosophical, wry commentators. John’s voice often veers towards the laconic. Ellen Langton, on the other hand, writes in a more intimate tone, of more personal matters. Thomas’s voice was also invaluable with reference to the Atlantic crossing, though H.H. Langton’s version contains none of this material. The voyage out – a transition period – provided time for emigrants to try to adjust to the drastic change in their circumstances and to begin the mental and physical adaptation essential to their survival in what for all emigrants, regardless of class, was literally a New World. For the Langtons, the crossing was also to some extent a hiatus between stressful events, though they had their share of sea-sickness and ship-board ailments. I elected to include extracts from the voyage journals of Anne and Thomas and the land journals of Ellen as they introduce us to the individual Langtons’ personalities and their frames of mind in facing emigration. The three narratives offer a fascinating variety of viewpoints. Their authors consciously write in travel-genre mode. The differing accounts of Anne and Thomas yield dayto-day glimpses of life on board an emigrant packet ship. Seasoned by their previous travels, the writers make good-natured and occasionally sardonic observations about fellow passengers, the crew and captain, and their own personal behaviours and opinions. They comment on the various nationalities on board and on differing social and cultural customs, all the while aware that, to their shipmates, they themselves might appear to be ‘peculiar.’ Tracking their progress at sea, they also note natural phenomena and novel experiences – whales, icebergs, weather conditions, onboard amusements – and lament the dearth of books in the ship’s library (fortunately, they had packed plenty of their own). Later, during their land journey from New York to Sturgeon Lake, all three opine on the scenery, duly noting examples of the sublime, beautiful, and picturesque. In true travellers’ vein, they recount adventures and misadventures as they contend with hazards of colonial travel: dense forest, muddy paths

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(where ‘paths’ exist at all), corduroy roads and bridges, bumpy waggon rides, getting lost. Anne’s and Ellen’s accounts, however, are more consistent with what Pratt calls ‘sentiment’ travel writing in which the motivation was ‘innocent’ curiosity, rather than conquering achievement.219 The supplemental Langton voices add their own colour to the family’s collected travel journals. Nevertheless, I excised a considerable amount of this material, first, because the accounts often overlap in content and, second, because Anne’s experience and voice are the primary focus of this work. During the long land journey by carriage, rail, and steamer, there is scant material, for some reason, from Thomas or Anne. So, like H.H. Langton, I rely on Ellen Langton’s journal, although I have condensed the forty-eight crammed pages she produced in a small notebook. E.J. Philips’s edition contains no material from this source, presumably because it never left Canada. Ellen’s style reveals her personality as well as the circumstances under which she composed her journal. Hers is the private journal of a weary, ailing woman of seventy, writing in less than ideal conditions, often in haste at the end of the day, sometimes in ill health, always ‘en route.’ She ‘chats’ to William and Margaret, plies them with novel occurrences, makes frequent allusions to her health problems, as well as the family’s often daily arrivals and departures. She proffers observations on unfamiliar cultural mores and customs. She remarks on the process of travelling, its trials and tribulations, the pleasures of beautiful scenery, a welcome cup of tea or lemonade at the end of a day’s wearying journey. She details accommodations – the unsatisfactory and the elegant (and expensive), the spotless and the dirty. Only Alice Currer, maiden sister and aunt, remains the silent, shadowy background figure, content to fit in with others’ wishes, to be as helpful as possible. She comes alive briefly through occasional vignettes by other family members who always speak of her affectionately and appreciatively. Anne Langton’s journals were written neither as a strictly personal, private narrative nor an openly public one. They belong to the liminal domain of semi-private/semi-public expression. With E.J. Philips’s edition, the audience range widens, but its size barely increases. Only in 1950, with publication of A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada, does the public finally get to hear of Anne Langton, her writing and art. Even then, the ‘world’ that learns of her is mostly restricted to a relatively small section of the Canadian public. The present edition can take Langton’s life and work beyond that threshold. The fact that she did not write for publication renders her work all the more valuable. Her utter lack of commercial agenda and of interest in fame or financial gain enables audiences to discover a text that is uncompromising in its sincerity, devoid of hyperbole, and replete with authorial integrity.

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Anne Langton’s Legacy In an age of daunting machines and awesome bureaucracies, when family, work and community patterns are undergoing dizzying transformations, it is reassuring to look into a human face. Portraits and self-portraits in art and literature ... effect an affirmation of individual worth. Susan Groag Bell and Marilyn Yalom, Revealing Lives

In Anne Langton’s writing and art, we have the rare and fortunate opportunity to come face to face with the authentic voice of an accomplished, nineteenth-century gentlewoman artist and resilient pioneer settler, her family, and her community. Her portraits and self-portraits honour the ‘individual worth’ of her loved ones and of herself. They are emblematic of the uniqueness and value of each person’s life. The particularities of Langton’s life are embodied both in her creative acts and in her daily living, whether in her domestic duties or her admirable community undertakings. Reared to blossom as a confined, tender, hothouse specimen, the gentlewoman, when transplanted to alien soil, was expected ‘to pine and languish in the desert.’220 For Anne Langton, such an option was never remotely possible. Her journal became an essential ally and confidante, even though she was writing for an external, albeit private, audience. Her writing appointments with herself helped her contend with conflicting emotions and served as a record of her shifting perspectives, while providing a safe space in which to voice her frustrations. Langton’s work speaks of particular moments in social history and the ideologies embodied in them. Together, her words and images provide an invaluable record in which subsequent generations can dig deep to uncover almost obscured treasures of life and the living of it as experienced by early white settlers, especially women, in what to them was ‘a strange land.’ With the publication of her work, previously marginalized voices finally ring clear, another resounding silence is broken, shadowy recesses of another corner of history are illumined. According to Heilbrun, ‘power is the ability to take one’s place in whatever discourse is essential to action and the right to have one’s part matter.’221 By examining the realities of formerly voiceless individuals whose lives are limited in proportion to their distance from power, we empower marginalized voices. Hence, the importance of restoring Anne Langton’s voice and vision and of acknowledging her social contributions within her community. In the past, Langton’s life might have been dismissed as that of a somewhat prim, retiring spinster, devoted to her family at the cost of her self-fulfilment.

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Today, much feminist scholarship provides context for such lives, allowing us to more deeply appreciate Anne’s circumstances and understand her choices. She opted for the life best suited to her, personally, finding fulfilment in her chosen path by being ‘of real use to someone.’ The arrangement was mutually beneficial: she had a secure roof over her head and a respected place in the family circle; in return, John and Lydia had the best possible help: that of a devoted family member. Anne’s loving care of their children contributed to John’s success in the public sphere. She was the reliable, loving guardian who ran the household and cared for the children when John and Lydia attended official functions, including their trip to England in 1867, when John was a member of the official group negotiating the terms of Confederation. It is also true that, as one of two primary female caregivers, Anne could take time to pursue her art. While she did not submit her work to a wider public audience, its preservation by her family enables subsequent audiences to understand what the struggle for survival cost settlers and to appreciate their achievements and satisfactions. Readers and viewers can gain ‘some sort of a notion’ of what her world was like, as was Anne’s intention with regard to the limited audience of her family.222 Hers is the lens through which others can view her world. They can relive her experiences in their own imaginations as she narrates or illustrates a remarkable decade of her life. Anne Langton takes on further identity and significance as cultural guide and creator of an enduring legacy. Her intelligent writing and art are living proof of the ‘affirmation of individual worth.’ She composed and created from the best of impulses: love of family, commitment to community, and deep appreciation of the value of literature and the visual arts. Portraitist of herself and her world, she remains a lasting inspiration for those who follow.

NOTES 1 As she later remarked of Blythe Hall and Blythe Farm, ‘two places could scarcely be much more dissimilar’ (see journal, 23 April 1839). 2 For a full version of the Langton family pedigree, see Joseph Foster, Pedigrees of the County Families of England, vol. 1, Lancashire; also see Hugh Hornby Langton, ‘Summary of the Langton Family History,’ ts., n.d., 9pp., B65-0014/002 (10), University of Toronto Archives and Records Management Services (UTARMS); ‘Notes by W. Langton on his father’s [Thomas Langton’s] career,’ 5, ‘Miscellaneous,’ env. 13, #3, ms., JLff, F 1077, MU 1691, Archives of Ontario (AO). The latter also mentions the family business as being in the flax and hemp trade.

86 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada 3 The Currer family was connected to the literary Brontë family, also of Yorkshire. Noel Currer-Briggs, interview with the author, Saffron Walden, England, 1972. Interestingly, when Charlotte Brontë published her first novel, she did so under the pseudonym, Currer Bell. 4 On the Grand Tour, see among others, William Edward Mead, The Grand Tour in the Eighteenth Century; Anthony Burgess and Francis Haskell, The Age of the Grand Tour. 5 The house and estate of Champ-Pittet had been designed by Frédéric Haldimand, a native of Yverdon, as his country retreat, following his renowned military career, which included service in Canada in the British army against the French. He was military governor of Trois-Rivières, Quebec, then governor of the province of Quebec (1778–84) and director of fortification constructions at Montreal and Quebec City. Champ-Pittet is now a Nature Information and Conference Centre, owned and operated by La Ligue Suisse pour la Protection de la Nature. See Monique Fontannaz and Anne Du Pasquier, Le Domaine de Champ-Pittet, A Cheseaux-Noréaz VD (Berne: La Societé d’Histoire de l’Art, 1985), in the Guides des Monuments Suisses series, a copy of which was supplied to the author by Ms. Sandra Landmesser of Kriens, Switzerland. 6 Encyclopedia of World Biography, 8. To some degree, Pestalozzi’s method anticipated the work of Maria Montessori, the innovative Italian educator whose methods are still followed in some schools today. 7 Thomas Langton, Letters of Thomas Langton, 17 July 1817, 203–4. John Langton was barely nine years old at the time. 8 Most unmarried gentlewomen were far less fortunate than Alice Currer. See, among other titles, discussions in A. James Hammerton, Emigrant Gentlewomen; Katharine M. Rogers, Troublesome Helpmate; Martha Vicinus, Independent Women; Mrs West, Letters to a Young Lady, vols. 1–3. The novels of the Brontë sisters, Jane Austen, and their contemporaries, similarly reveal the plight of single gentlewomen in the nineteenth century. 9 See Patricia Jasen, Wild Things, 20; John Urry, The Tourist Gaze, 1. Other useful works on travel and tourism include: Elizabeth McKinsey, Niagara Falls; Mary Pratt, Imperial Eyes; Valene Smith, Hosts and Guests. 10 Smith, Hosts and Guests, 4–5. 11 On ethnic touring, see Ellen Langton’s comments on the ‘Indians’ that the family saw at Niagara, 12 July 1837, Anne Langton, Gentlewoman; for cultural observations, see Thomas Langton’s comments on visits to Belgian churches and Academies of Painting, 12 September 1815, Thomas Langton, Letters of Thomas Langton, 20; for historical excursions, see Anne Langton’s reference to a visit to Herculaneum and Pompeii, Story, 30; for recreational tourism: Anne Langton’s observations at Niagara, postcript to a letter from Thomas Langton, 20 July 1837, Anne Langton, Gentlewoman.

Introduction 87 12 Pratt, Imperial Eyes, 31, 7. Like Pratt, Jasen points out that ‘the history of tourism is imbued with the language of class’ – to which she could also have added ‘race.’ Wild Things, 20. 13 Smith, Hosts and Guests, 34. 14 For the secular pilgrimage see ibid., 11. 15 Urry, Tourist Gaze, ch. 1. 16 Thomas Langton, Letters of Thomas Langton, 1 April 1817, 171. 17 Anne Langton, Story, 28. 18 See Mariana Starke, Travels on the Continent. Starke had earlier published Letters from Italy between the Years 1792 and 1798, in two volumes (London, 1800). Burgess and Haskell, The Age of the Grand Tour, 132. 19 Leonore Davidoff and Catherine Hall, Family Fortunes, 19. 20 Carolyn G. Heilbrun, Writing a Woman’s Life, 48. Harriet Blodgett, describes the ‘epitome roles’ for British gentlewomen as those of wife and mother, Centuries of Female Days, 116. 21 For discussion of the plight of ‘distressed gentlewomen,’ their limited options, and the subject of emigration, see Hammerton, Emigrant Gentlewomen, passim. See also Rogers, Troublesome Helpmate, 203. 22 Welter, ‘The Cult of True Womanhood, 1820–1860,’ 152. 23 Welter refers to a number of ‘conduct’ publications (books and magazines), including Whispers to a Bride; Godey’s Magazine and Lady’s Book, The Ladies’ Companion, and Catalogues for Young Ladies’ Seminaries. See ‘Cult of True Womanhood,’ 158n35, 159n37. West’s Letters to a Young Lady are replete with recommendations and exhortations that the education of girls and young women should in no way resemble that of boys and young men. On ‘christian’ graces and duties, see Letters to a Young Lady, 1: 220; 2: 386. 24 Amanda Vickery, Gentleman’s Daughter, 239. 25 Thomas Langton, Letters of Thomas Langton, 158–9. 26 Vickery, Gentleman’s Daughter, 173. 27 Henry Currer Langton, ‘Memoir of Thomas Langton,’ 3. 28 As Mrs West wrote of spinsters: ‘Let them but endeavour to be useful to others as their limited means allow, and pursue every source of virtuous employment which their bounded sphere permits,’ Letters to a Young Lady, 3: 95. Blodgett also points out that ‘“Women”, as Annie de Rothschild knows by thirteen, “are put into the world to be useful’’’ (Centuries of Female Days, 206). Similarly, John I. Little notes that ‘during its early formation the cult of domesticity directed women not to idleness or superficial gentility, but to a special sort of usefulness’ (Child Letters, 33). 29 Eve Zaremba’s book Privilege of Sex takes its title from this passage by Jameson, 49. See also Helen M. Buss, Mapping Our Selves, 101, and Marian Fowler, The Embroidered Tent, 172–3.

88 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada 30 Vickery, Gentleman’s Daughter, 160. 31 Or, as Buss expresses it, to ensure that ‘all demands have been met.’ Mapping Our Selves, 20. 32 Vickery, Gentleman’s Daughter, 12. 33 See Katherine M.J. McKenna’s poignant biographical portrait of Anne Murray Powell in Life of Propriety and her discussion of the lives of the three Powell sisters in ‘Options for Elite Women in Early Upper Canadian Society: The Case of the Powell Family,’ in J.K. Johnson and Bruce G. Wilson, eds., Historical Essays on Upper Canada, 401–23. 34 See, for example, Mary Poovey, The Proper Lady and the Woman Writer, passim. The quote is from Blodgett, Centuries of Female Days, 230. 35 See, for example, Germaine Greer, The Obstacle Race, 68–87, for discussion of Giorgio Vasari’s assessment of female painters, as well as for historical assessments of Gentileschi (189–207), and of Lavinia Fontana (208–26). 36 Langton, Story, 41. Davidoff and Hall claim that ‘most historians agree that from £200 to £300 per annum secured a place within the middle class for an average family’ (Family Fortunes, 23). Clearly the remains of the Langton estate were not adequate to maintain such a lifestyle. 37 Langton, Story, 41. 38 Ibid., 40. 39 Pamela Gerrish Nunn, Victorian Women Artists, 6. Her arguments apply even more to would-be artists of an earlier era, such as Anne Langton. 40 Whitney Chadwick, Women, Art and Society, 26–7; also, among others, see discussions on women’s artistic and social heterogeneity in Rozsika Parker and Griselda Pollock, Old Mistresses, 44–5. 41 See, for instance, Starke’s references to self-portraits by Kauffmann and VigéeLe Brun in the Uffizi, in Travels, 104. 42 ‘Anne Langton’s Journals, 1821–1837,’ ms., JLff, F 1077, 4, Journals, env. 12, MU 1691, AO. By the 1820s and 1830s, there were several major exhibition venues in London: the Royal Academy of Arts (founded 1769); the (‘Old’) WaterColour Society (1804; from 1820, it became known as the Society of Painters in Water-Colours and, later still, the Royal Society of Painters in Water-Colours); the British Institution (1805); the Society of British Artists (1823); the New Society of Painters in Water-Colours (1832), which evolved from an earlier group known as the Associated Artists in Water-Colours (founded in 1808 partly as a rival gathering to the ‘Old’ Water-Colour Society, but disbanded in 1812). The Society of Female Artists was not founded until 1857. The early nineteenth century was a crucial period for fostering visual arts in the provinces. Liverpool and Manchester were leading centres. Institutions, societies, and exhibition venues included the Liverpool Academy of Arts; the

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44

45

46

Royal Institution in Liverpool, of which Thomas Langton was president for a time (H[enry]C[urrer]L[angton], ‘Memoir of Thomas Langton,’ in Thomas Langton, Letters, 4); the Manchester Institution and Associated Artists. For a thorough examination of English provincial art at this time, see Trevor Fawcett, The Rise of English Provincial Art. For detailed documentation and analysis on early British and French women artists, see Charlotte Yeldham, Women Artists in Nineteenth-Century France and England. For English women artists, see also Nunn, Victorian Women Artists, passim; Parker and Pollock, Old Mistresses, passim. Individuals who lent works of art to Anne Langton for copying included the following: in Ireland, the Welds and Lady Synnot (Lord and Lady Synnot and their children, like the Welds, had been among the Langton family’s fellow expatriates in Rome); in Lancashire, Sir William Fielden (a relative of the Currer family); in Liverpool, miniature portraitist Thomas Hargreaves and Ben Arthur Heywood, noted patron of the arts in Liverpool. Ben Arthur Heywood, like Thomas Langton, was ‘sometime President of the Liverpool Institution’ (Fawcett, Rise of English Provincial Art, 7 & 92). The Liverpool Heywood’s nephew and namesake, Benjamin Heywood (Sir Benjamin, from 1838) of Manchester, was the prominent banker and politician who appointed William Langton chief cashier of his bank in 1829 and, soon afterwards, manager. (Two of his sons later married two of William Langton’s daughters.) In Manchester, Anne Langton dealt with Thomas Agnew, ‘Agnew of Manchester,’ a famed fine art dealer, publisher of prints and arranger of annual exhibitions. The sobriquet is from an inscription by Anne Langton in her Studio Journal, JLff, F 1077-7-32, AO. In 1829 Agnew added a ‘gallery ... for public exhibitions’ and ‘fitted up a Private Room for the accommodation of Artists who occasionally visit Manchester’ (Fawcett, Rise of English Provincial Art, 76). This gallery presented a perfect opportunity for Anne Langton, who frequently visited the city to stay with her brother. She visited still more frequently following his marriage in 1831. See the two Studio Journal volumes of Anne Langton’s miniatures, ‘Anne Langton’s record of the miniatures she painted,’ JLff, F 1077-7-3-1, -7-3-2, AO. These are simple line-drawings, with the name of the sitter or, in the case of paintings copied from other artists’ work, the artist’s name and title of the painting. These Studio Journals, dating from Langton’s work in England prior to her emigration, contain some sixty images. For Thomas Hargreaves, see Daphne Foskett, A Dictionary of British Miniature Painters, 2 vols., 1: 310; 2, plate 143 and figs. 376–9. For discussion of portrait miniaturists, see, J.J. Foster, Miniature Painters British and Foreign, 2 vols.; John Murdoch, Jim Murrell, Patrick J. Noon, and Roy Strong, The English Miniature.

90 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada 47 JLff, F 1077-9-1-33, -34, AO. For James Ward, see G.E. Fussell, James Ward, R.A., Animal Painter, 1769–1859, and His England. See also Colonel Maurice Harold Grant, A Dictionary of British Landscape Painters, 212. 48 See Edward J. Nygren, James Ward’s Gordale Scar: An Essay in the Sublime, catalogue for the exhibition of the same name (Tate Gallery, 3 November 1982–2 January 1983). 49 Sir George Beaumont, founder of the National Gallery in London, who donated his personal art collection to form the basis of that institution, had allegedly declared Gordale to be ‘unpaintable,’ ibid., 12; also 6, 30, and appendix 3, 160. William Wordsworth penned a sonnet to Gordale’s mysterious power to overwhelm the viewer. 50 Lord Ribblesdale, then owner of the land in which Gordale is situated, commissioned Ward to do the painting for a wall in the capacious dining room of his stately home. Execution of preparatory studies (some in watercolour), and of the final immense oil, occupied Ward from 1811 to 1814. 51 See sketchbook, ‘England (Yorkshire), Ireland and Wales,’ JLff, F 1077-8-1-8, AO. 52 Anne Langton, Story, 39. 53 Ibid., 52. 54 Barbara Maas, Helpmates of Man, 71. 55 For sketches of homes of family and friends, see her sketchbooks, JLff, F 1077-8 and loose drawings, F 1077-9, AO. 56 ‘Anne Langton’s Journals, 1821–1837,’ ms., JLff, F 1077, MU 1691, 4, Journals, env. 12, AO. 57 Anne Langton, Story, 44. 58 Ibid., 41–2. 59 The following miniatures are recorded as being executed in 1833: Thos. Langton, JLff, F 1077-1-0-7; Mrs. Thomas Langton, F 1077-7-1-0-9; John [Langton], F 1077-1-7-0-3; Anne Langton, F 1077-7-1-2 (see the front cover). The miniature William [Langton], F 1077-7-1-0-10, appears to be a companion piece to one that Anne Langton executed of Margaret Hornby My Sister-in-Law before She Was Married and therefore probably dates from 1831, F 1077-7-1-0-6. The miniature, Miss [Alice] Currer, F 1077-1-7-0-1, is dated 1835. 60 Anne Langton, Story, 42. 61 See, for example, the second letter in the present edition, an extract from a letter from John Langton to his father, 21 July 1835. 62 Anne Langton, Story, 46. 63 The history of early emigration to Upper Canada has been well documented in Helen I. Cowan, British Emigration to British North America. Recent, more specific volumes include Wendy Cameron and Mary McDougall Maude, Assisting

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64 65 66

67 68 69

70 71

72

Emigration to Upper Canada, and Wendy Cameron, Sheila Haines, and Mary McDougall Maude, eds., English Immigrant Voices. Their views have influenced my own thinking in writing the contextual account that follows. See William Cattermole, Emigration; Joseph Pickering, Emigrant’s Guide; Patrick Shirreff, A Tour through North America. For detailed discussion of this particular project, see Cameron and Maude, Assisting Emigration. Thomas Langton, letter to William Langton, 10 August 1837, in Anne Langton, Gentlewoman. See also Cameron and Maude, Assisting Emigration, 180–1. Cameron and Maude, Assisting Emigration, 23. John Langton, Early Days, 19. John Langton bought the 16th. lot, concession 10, Fenelon Township; the 16th and 17th lots, concession 11, Fenelon Township; the 17th lot, concession 1, Verulam Township, for a total of almost 500 acres. He resold one of these latter two almost immediately. See John Langton, Early Days, 19 and 25. United Empire lots had been granted by the government to Loyalist emigrés who, in allegiance to the British Crown, left the United States and moved to Upper Canada during and after the War of Independence (1776). Some of these grants had never been taken up, so arrangements could sometimes be made to purchase them for settlement and/or speculation. See Early Days, 14–15. Also see Upper Canada Land Records (UCLR) Index, references to John Langton as follows: Verulam Township, 12 Sept. 1833, Lot 15, Concession 1, sale of Clergy Reserve to John Langton, RG 1-386-0-1; UCLR, Index, Fenelon Township, 30 November 1833, sale of Crown Land to John Langton, 5 acres, Lot 17, Concession 10; UCLR, Index, Fenelon Township, 16 Dec. 1834, Sale (CA) to John Langton from Mr. Peter Robinson, Book Q, Folio 82, AO. Jack Little writes of companionate marriage in Love Strong as Death, 12–14, where he notes its kinship with love as represented in romantic novels. Liverpool at the time was ‘much the largest British port’ (Cowan, British Emigration, 237). Ships departing for North America out of Liverpool sailed to New York (not Quebec). This route was recognized as shorter and cheaper than those from other British ports, such as Greenock or Portsmouth: ‘Anyone that come into this [country] come by New York, come much cheaper and quicker to Upper Canada’ (letter from William Baker, Delaware Township, Upper Canada, 3 November 1833, in Cameron, Haines, and Maude, English Immigrant Voices, 156. Cameron and Maude claim that wealthy immigrants ‘often chose New York for the greater comfort and speed of the American ships’ (Assisting Emigration, 109). A note here on terminology: the Langtons used the term ‘Indians’ to describe

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74

75 76 77

78 79 80

81 82 83 84 85 86

First Nations people; I use First Nations, the term preferred by their descendants. On usage and the historical background of First Nations peoples in the Kawartha Lakes region, I consulted with Monica Bodirsky, coordinator of the History Project at the Native Canadian Centre of Toronto. For historical discussion of Indian bands in North America, particularly in Southern Ontario, see F.W. Hodge, Handbook of the Indians of Canada; Hollinshead, ‘White Gaze, “Red” People – Shadow Visions: The Disidentification of “Indians” in Cultural Tourism,’ Watson Kirkconnell, County of Victoria. (In discussing the massacre of the Mohawk band on Sturgeon Lake, Hodgson quotes from John Langton’s Early Days.) Pratt’s specific definition of ‘contact zone[s]’ is ‘social spaces where disparate cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other, often in highly asymmetrical relations of domination and subordination – like colonialism, slavery, or their aftermaths’ (Imperial Eyes, 4); see also, Jasen, Wild Things, 16. The Mohawk First Nation was one of five tribes in the Iroquois Confederacy, or Five Nations, along with the Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Seneca. The Five Nations expanded into the Six Nations Confederacy sometime after 1722, when the Tuscorora of what is now New York State joined with them. Changes in migration patterns of First Nations tribes also led to increased tensions between various tribal groups around this time. The term ‘massacre’ is used in historical accounts of the incident. See, for example, Kirkconnell, County of Victoria, 161. John Langton, Early Days, 7–8. Langton’s ‘disappointment’ exemplifies Jasen’s assessment that when White travellers met First Nations peoples whose characteristics did not live up to their expectations, ‘disappointment and wry comment’ sometimes ensued (Jasen, Wild Things, 17). Langton, Early Days, 122. Ibid., 125. [Ellen Langton], ‘Mrs. Thomas Langton’s Diary 1837,’ ms. (48 pp.). 4, Journals, env. 12, JLff, F 1077, MU 1691, 45, AO. In subsequent references, I abbreviate this title to ‘Journal,’ in preference to ‘Diary,’ as Ellen Langton uses the word ‘journal’ to describe it. (The word ‘diary’ has been added on the cover in a different hand). See, for example, Gerald M. Craig, Upper Canada, 48–9. J.H. Aitchison, cited in J.K. Johnson, Becoming Prominent, 103. Cowan, British Emigration, 189; Errington, The Lion, The Eagle, and Upper Canada, 10. Cowan, British Immigration, 189. See Craig, Upper Canada, 85. Letter to Mrs William Langton, 22 August 1837.

Introduction 93 87 John Langton’s set of detailed plans for the house and property are extant in the Anne Langton Art Collection (ALAC) at the City of Kawartha Lakes Records and Archives Facility (CKLRAF), Ontario, 831, Plans I and III: Ground Floor and Upper Storey; 829, Plan IV: Front Elevation [of Blythe Farmhouse]; 830, Plan VI: The Farm; 827, Plan II: Cellar; 828, Plan V: Garden, etc. For his accompanying legends, see FF 826A, legends for Plans I, II, III; 826B, legends for Plans IV, V, VI. 88 As Vickery comments on the English gentry, ‘Gentility found its richest expression in objects’ (Gentleman’s Daughter, 161). 89 See chapter 3 in Maas, Helpmates of Man, 41–76. The passage that I quote is on 44. 90 Ibid., 44n147. Maas mentions two nineteenth-century prescriptive journals in Ontario: the Canadian Queen and the Ladies Journal. 91 Errington, Wives and Mothers, xvi. 92 Ibid., 22. 93 See Jack Little’s claim that the elite social class in Lower Canada, especially the women, were ‘creating islands of European civility’ (Peel, Love Strong as Death, 11). See also Cecilia Morgan, Public Men and Virtuous Women. Samuel Strickland’s Twenty-Seven Years in Canada West is a classic narrative of a British settler who succeeds to a significant degree in establishing a colonial replica settlement on the lines of British hierarchical and patriarchal values and structures at Lakefield, Ontario. For useful analysis of the origins, nature, and significance of prominence in the formation of early Upper Canadian society, see Johnson, Becoming Prominent, passim. 94 Errington, Wives and Mothers, 23. 95 Ibid., 86. 96 See, for example, Cameron and Maude, Assisting Emigration, and Susanna Moodie’s complaints about people whom she regarded as ‘upstart’ settlers from the lower classes with aspirations towards independence (Roughing It in the Bush, passim). 97 Errington, Wives and Mothers, 15, 20. 98 For information on Powell’s life, see McKenna, ‘Options for Elite Women’ and A Life of Propriety. 99 Edward Gibbon Wakefield, The Act of Colonization, cited in Hammerton, Emigrant Gentlewomen, 97. 100 Maas, Helpmates of Man, 56. Martha Vicinus, Independent Women, 3. 101 McKenna, ‘Options for Elite Women,’ 419. 102 Cameron and Maude, Assisting Emigration, 19. 103 John Langton, Early Days, 22, 128–9. 104 Wallis, Jameson, and Langton lobbied for the scheme for years, but it was

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106 107

108 109 110

111 112 113

114 115 116 117

decades before waterway construction began and 1918 before it was completed. See William A. Langton, ‘Upper Canada in Early Days,’ in John Langton, Early Days, xxv; Daniel Francis, ‘I Remember ...’ For further details of James Wallis’s life and significance for the Fenelon area (in addition to Anne Langton’s, A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada and The Story of Our Family, John Langton’s, Early Days in Upper Canada, and Hugh M. Wallis’s compilation in the Fenelon Falls Museum) see Margaret Allen, Kathy Arscott and Caroline Fenelius-Carpenter, Fenelon Falls ‘then and now.’ Randall Speller kindly allowed me to consult his useful extract ‘Gentlemen of the Fenelon Hunt: Early Business Activity in Fenelon Falls and Area,’ part of his forthcoming introductory history of business in the village of Fenelon Falls. John Langton, Early Days, 134. John Langton, addendum, dated 23 August 1833, to a letter written to Thomas Langton, 2 August 1833, 1, Correspondence, env. 9, original notebook of John Langton’s letters, copied by Thomas Langton, 12 June 1833–22 October 1835, 53, JLff, F 1077, MU 1690, AO. John Langton, letter to William Langton, 21 October 1844, 1, Correspondence, ms., env. 3, JLff, F 1077, MU 1690, AO; Early Days, 200. Wallis did, however, keep his house in Fenelon for nearly twenty years, often spending summers there. Anne Langton, Langton Records, 315. See, e.g., Cameron and Maude, Assisting Emigration; Cameron, Haines, and Maude, English Immigrant Voices; Craig, Upper Canada; Douglas, Upper Canada in the 1830s; Errington, The Lion, The Eagle and Upper Canada; Colin Read, The Uprising in Western Upper Canada. John Langton, Early Days, 101. Ibid. Thomas Langton, extract from a letter to William Langton, 23 December 1837, in Anne Langton, Gentlewoman. John Langton’s own letter describing events leading up to the rebellion and its aftermath, provides a perceptive, though highly biased account, laced with wry, laconic satire. See John Langton, letter to William Langton, 20 February, 1838, in Anne Langton, Gentlewoman. Maas, Helpmates of Man, 78 and 106. In keeping with this tradition, the Sturgeon Point Sailing Club still holds its annual regatta on the first weekend in August. John Langton, Early Days, 179, 182, 191. The Langtons took on the clerical role fittingly, perhaps, recalling how Thomas Langton, during their stay in Rome twenty years earlier (along with other leaders of the expatriate community) had instituted church services for the Anglican community which were held in the Palazzo Colonna Trajano. Anne Langton, Story, 29.

Introduction 95 118 See, for example, her journal entry for 19 January 1839. 119 Ruby Heap and Alison Prentice, Gender and Education in Ontario, vii. 120 Fellow emigrée Mary O’Brien gave lessons in exchange for help with household duties and child-minding as, unlike Langton, she had a growing family of young children to support. O’Brien, Journals, 257, 261. 121 See E.J. Philips, editorial note, Langton Records, 305, and H.H. Langton, editorial note, in Anne Langton, Gentlewoman, 197–8. 122 A plaque outside the entrance to the school commemorates Anne Langton’s important contributions to the community, including her teaching endeavours. A copy of the information was supplied to me by Connie Gonsalves, school secretary, Langton Public School, Fenelon Falls. 123 Davidoff and Hall, Family Fortunes, 27. 124 For information on Dr Hutchison of Peterborough, see Jean Murray Cole, Hutchison House and Peterborough in the Hutchison-Fleming Era. 125 See Wives and Mothers, 129, 66. 126 See Jacalyn Duffin, Langstaff, 118–9. The Langton family’s and Ellen Philips’s views (with which Hugh Hornby Langton apparently concurs) on ague and its causes reflect nineteenth-century received wisdom on the subject. One aspect of their view of the disease’s cause – its climatic origin (temperature, humidity, and seasonality factors being involved) – was correct. Knowledge of its transmission by mosquitoes, however, eluded medical and lay persons alike until the late nineteenth century. For an in-depth overview of historical and current knowledge regarding ague/malaria, see Peter Reiter, ‘Climate Change and Mosquito-Borne Disease,’ Environmental Health Perspectives 109 (March 2001): 141–61 and Steele, Bleed, Blister, and Purge, 113–14, 325. 127 Blodgett, Centuries of Female Days, 120. 128 Anne Langton, Langton Records, 224. 129 Ibid., 185. 130 Blodgett, Centuries of Female Days, 150. 131 Bunkers, ‘Midwestern Diaries and Journals: What Women Were (Not) Saying in the Late 1800s,’ in James Olney, ed., Studies in Autobiography, 194. Bunkers is here discussing unpublished diaries and journals from approximately 1840 to 1900. As Bunkers and Huff point out, ‘self-representation in women’s diaries often tells the truth slant by leaving out as much as leaving in’ (Suzanne L. Bunkers and Cynthia Huff, eds., Inscribing the Daily, 20). The expression ‘telling the truth “slant”’ is a reference to a poem by Emily Dickinson: ‘Tell all the truth but tell it slant ... The Truth must dazzle gradually/Or every man be blind,’ (Thomas H. Johnson, ed., The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (Boston: Little Brown, 1960), no. 1129. 132 Anne Langton, Story, 148. 133 Ibid., 147–9.

96 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada 134 Blodgett, Centuries of Female Days, 231. 135 This is one of several passages that provides insights into Langton’s intentions for her journal project. She commits to creating a detailed documentary record. Realizing that she will need to exercise critical discernment regarding journal writing’s requirements, its potential, and limitations, she also begins assessment of herself as journal writer. In his edition of Langton’s letters, Hugh Hornby Langton omits almost all of Anne Langton’s extended comments on her journals, perhaps feeling that the general reading public of the 1950s will not be interested in the topic of journalizing, especially by a woman. His edition preceded the phenomenal growth, in the last decades of the twentieth century, of studies in the genre of life writing, as well as of women’s studies. It also preceded recognition of the value of what were hitherto considered to be ‘lesser,’ ‘minor,’ or even insignificant voices in literature and history: those persons of marginalized social status, based on such categories as gender, class, or race. 136 Roy Pascal, Design and Truth in Autobiography, 9. 137 Ibid., 3. 138 Margo Culley comments on how the contexts for journal writing – ‘intentionality, audience, and the material conditions of creation’ – markedly influence what and how the journalizer writes, including form, content, and tone. Culley, ‘Women’s Vernacular Literature: Teaching the Mother Tongue,’ in L. Hoffman and Margo Culley, Women’s Personal Narratives, 15. 139 Journal, 10 July 1839. 140 Culley, ‘Women’s Vernacular Literature,’ 15. 141 Buss states that autobiographical texts allow readers to follow ‘the trace of a human person constructing her own identity in her historical, social, cultural and gendered place’ Inscribing the Daily, 86. 142 For similar experiences on other settlers’ lives, see, for example, Buss, ‘Anna Jameson’s Winter Studies and Summer Rambles in Canada as Epistolary Dijournal,’ in Marlene Kadar, ed., Essays on Life Writing, 44; David Fitzpatrick, Oceans of Consolation, 20, 59. 143 See, for example, Bunkers and Huff, eds., Inscribing the Daily, a comprehensive introduction to the critical theories related to life writing. See also Hoffman and Culley, eds., Women’s Personal Narratives; Kadar, ed., Essays on Life Writing; Shirley Neuman, ed., Autobiography and Questions of Gender. 144 Poovey, Proper Lady, 41, 36, xv. 145 Buss, Mapping Our Selves, 24 (citing Helen Carr), 28, 35 (referring to the reading theories of Nancy Miller). 146 Those interested in pursuing a double reading strategy with reference to Anne Langton might consult her manuscript works: journal notes, small pieces of poetry, sketchbook notations, the inventory of her hand-painted china items,

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147 148 149

150

151

152

153 154 155 156

and her memoir, The Story of Our Family. Examples of sources for contextual strategies include the letters of Thomas, Ellen, and John Langton. Other sources comprise the biographer’s primary research, including material gleaned from person interviews with the subject’s relatives and friends of the family. Intertextual strategies would draw us to texts by Frances Stewart, Susanna Moodie, Catharine Parr Traill, and Mary O’Brien (all pioneer settlers) and to related texts of Elizabeth Simcoe, Anna Jameson, Jane Ellice, and Juliana Horatia Ewing. Additional reading of commentary on emigration and settlement from the viewpoint of lower-class contemporaries of these genteel women adds nuance and a counterpoint against which to assess historical accounts by female members of the elite. See, e.g., Cameron et al., English Immigrant Labourers. Mary Jane Moffat and Charlotte Painter, Revelations: Diaries of Women, 5, quoted in Bunkers and Huff, Inscribing the Daily, 11. Penelope Franklin, ed., Private Pages: Diaries of American Women, 1830s–1970s, xxiv, quoted in Bunkers and Huff, Inscribing the Daily, 12. In this section, I use the female pronoun to refer to the writer. To use both female and male pronouns throughout would be unduly cumbersome. Use of the female pronoun also reflects reality: during Anne Langton’s lifetime most creators of informal life writing were women. For a fuller examination of the nature of private life writing and difficulties to be overcome in taking the ‘dailiness’ of life as one’s subject, see Lynn Z. Bloom, ‘‘‘I Write for Myself and Strangers”: Private Diaries as Public Documents,’ in Bunkers and Huff, Inscribing the Daily, 23–37. David Malouf, The Great World, 283. Malouf is here referring to poetry’s ability to capture ‘little sacraments’ of daily living. Journals, too, capture such moments, albeit in prose. Culley, ‘Women’s Vernacular Literature,’ 12. See also the epigraph taken from Susan Jackel, ‘Canadian Women’s Autobiography: A Problem in Criticism,’ in Buss, Mapping Our Selves. See Lynn Z. Bloom’s essay, ‘Features of Truly Private Diaries,’ particularly the section, ‘Style and Literary Techniques,’ in Bunkers and Huff, Inscribing the Daily, 29. Anne Langton, Story, 104. As Susan Groag Bell and Marilyn Yalom have observed, life narratives can yield ‘vicarious validation of our own [the readers’] lives’ (Revealing Lives, 1). Buss is here writing of the ‘subjectivity’ of the memoir writer (Mapping Our Selves, 82). I would argue that the same stance is true of the journal writer. Poovey, Proper Lady, 41 (my emphasis). For the diary as ‘functional’ confidante, see Blodgett, Centuries of Female Days, 85.

98 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada 157 Nunn, Victorian Women Artists, 126–7, 130. In addition to Lady Waterford, Nunn provides case histories of Henrietta (Mrs E.M.) Ward (1832–1924), Joanna Mary Boyce (Mrs H.T. Wells) (1831–61), Emma Brownlow (King) (1832–1905), and Rosa Brett (1829–92). 158 Works by some of the main critics in the history of women and fine art history since 1970 include Norma Broude and Mary P. Garrard, eds., Feminism and Art History; Broude and Garrard, The Expanding Discourse; Broude and Garrard, eds., The Power of Feminist Art; Whitney Chadwick, Women, Art, and Society; Deborah Cherry, Painting Women; Judith Chicago, The Dinner Party; Caroline Davidson, The World of Mary Ellen Best; Katy Deepwell, ed., New Feminist Art Criticism; Elsa Honig Fine, Women and Art; Germaine Greer, The Obstacle Race; Ann Sutherland Harris and Linda Nochlin, Women Artists and Their Work 1750–1950; Adele M. Holcomb, ‘Anna Jameson: The First Professional English Art Historian’; Adele M. Holcomb, ‘Anna Jameson on Women Artists’; Adele M. Holcomb, Women’s Studies in Art in Canadian Universities Schools of Art; Adele M. Holcomb and Clara Sherman, Women as Interpreters of the Visual Arts, 1820–1879; Linda Nochlin, Women, Art and Power and Other Essays, especially chap. 1 ‘Women, Art, and Power,’ and chap. 7 ‘Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?’; Nunn, Victorian Women Artists; Parker and Pollock, Old Mistresses; Parker, The Subversive Stitch; Diane E. Peters, Women in the Visual Arts; Chris Pettyes, with the assistance of Hazel Gustow, Olin Ferris, Verna Ritchie, Dictionary of Women Artists; Pollock, Vision and Difference; Pollock and Parker, eds., Framing Feminism; Arlene Raven, Cassandra L. Langer, Joanne Frueh, eds., Feminist Art Criticism: An Anthology; Joanne Frueh, Cassandra L. Langer and Arlene Raven, eds., Feminist Art Criticism: Art. Identity. Action (1991; 1994). 159 Elizabeth Simcoe (1766–1850; act. in Canada, 1791–6); Elizabeth Francis Hale (act. 1798–1823); Anne Jameson (1794/6–1860; act. in Canada 1837–8); Susanna Moodie (1803–85); Jane Ellice (1814–64; act. in Canada, 1838); Millicent Mary Chaplin (act. 1838–44); Frances Anne Hopkins (1838–1919; act. in Canada, 1858–70), see Philip Shackleton, ‘Beechey, Frances Anne (Hopkins),’ DCB 14: 49–50; Juliana Horatia Ewing (1841–85; act. in Canada, 1867–9). See also Mercer, ‘Elizabeth Simcoe’; Janet E. Clark and Robert Stacey, Frances Anne Hopkins, 1838–1919: Canadian Scenery, exhibition catalogue 27 January–18 March 1990, Thunder Bay Art Gallery and subsequent tour to other galleries; Donna McDonald, ed., Illustrated News. 160 Indeed, the miniatures of John and Lydia appear to be the last works that Anne Langton painted in this genre. Currently, the locations of close to thirty of Langton’s fully worked miniatures are known; it is to be hoped that more will come to light.

Introduction 99 161 Anne Langton, Langton Records, 190. This quotation is an example of remarks that Langton makes on her work but that were omitted in the first edition of Gentlewoman. 162 Anne’s portrait of Margaret compares favourably with a similar one by her English mentor in miniature painting, Thomas Hargreaves, Mrs. Samuel Henry Thompson. While Langton’s miniature portrait of Margaret dates from six years earlier than Hargreaves’s rendering of Mrs Thompson, the similarities appear to indicate the influence of his techniques. For Hargreaves’s portrait of Mrs Thompson, see Foskett, Miniatures Dictionary and Guide, vol. 1, Plate 69G, 278; vol. 2, plate 143, #378, with biographical sketch, 310. 163 For Richard Cosway’s Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, see George Charles Williamson, Portrait Miniatures, opposite 38. 164 It is interesting to note that Langton’s self-portrait as an artist shows her in a plain brown dress, with serious demeanour, unadorned, in the tradition of the dedicated professional painter. Kauffmann by contrast, portrays herself both as dedicated artist and in more conventional ‘feminine’ style, in romantic pose, dress, and demeanour and with softer paint handling. This particular Kauffmann self-portrait is in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. In addition to the selfportraits by Langton in this edition of Gentlewoman, several others from the 1820s and 1830s are recorded in outline in her studio journals, JLff, F 1077-73-1, -7-3-2, AO. 165 See, among others, Pollock’s extensive treatment of this topic in ‘Feminist Interventions in the Histories of Art: An Introduction,’ chap. 1 in Vision and Difference, 71. 166 Nunn, Victorian Women Artists, 6. 167 Poovey, Proper Lady, xv. 168 Greer, The Obstacle Race; Nunn, Victorian Women Artists; Parker and Pollock, Old Mistresses; and Chadwick, Women, Art, and Society, among others, discuss this aspect of women’s art practice at some length. Articles and reviews in midto late-nineteenth-century issues of the Art Union (later, Art Journal) (London) reveal trends, biases, and prejudices along gendered lines. See, for example, the review, ‘New Society of Painters in Watercolours,’ Art Union May 1848, 141; review, ‘Exhibition of the Society of Painters in Watercolours,’ Art Union June 1848, 181. 169 Review of an exhibition of the Society of Female Artists (twelfth season), Art Journal March 1868, 46. 170 A self-portrait, Painting Room in Our House at York (c. 1838), by Mary Ellen Best is a rare example for a female artist, but the neat room is beautifully furnished and well-ornamented, unlike most male artists’ work studios. See Caroline Davidson, The World of Mary Ellen Best, 72–3.

100 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada 171 The first two women admitted to the Royal Academy of Art in London in the second half of the eighteenth century were Mary Moser (1744–1819) and Angelica Kauffmann (1741–1807). After their deaths, no more women were admitted until 1861, the year in which women students were also first admitted to its schools. 172 See reviews in the Art Journal throughout the nineteenth century. 173 Chief proponents of these aesthetic theories included Edmund Burke, A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and the Beautiful; Burke, A Philosophical Enquiry; Reverend William Gilpin, Remarks on Forest Scenery and Other Woodland Views, relative chiefly to Picturesque Beauty; Gilpin, Three Essays on Picturesque Beauty; on Picturesque Travel; and on Sketching Landscape; Richard Payne Knight, The Landscape: A Didactic Poem in Three Books, Addressed to Uvedale Price, Esq; Knight, An Analytical Inquiry into the Principles of Taste; Sir Uvedale Price, An Essay on the Picturesque as Compared with the Sublime and the Beautiful; Humphry Repton, The Art of Landscape Gardening, including his Sketches and Hints on Landscape Gardening and Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening; J.C. Louden, ed., The Landscape Gardening and Landscape Architecture of the late Humphry Repton; Humphry Repton, Observations on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening. Particularly useful studies on the Sublime, the Beautiful, and the Picturesque include J. Hipple, The Beautiful, the Sublime and the Picturesque in Eighteenth Century British Aesthetic Theory; Christopher Hussey, The Picturesque. 174 For Burke on the sublime, see his Philosophical Enquiry, ed. Adam Phillips, 53–79. 175 For example, Elizabeth McKinsey surmises of Thomas Jefferson that ‘surely he would have agreed with his contemporaries, such as Crèvecoeur, that the Falls, is “a more sublime and uncommon object than is to be found in any other part of the world” “the greatest phenomenon in nature.”’ Niagara Falls, 36; see also 37–40. 176 For discussion of the historical response to the ‘wild’ in nature and art, see Jasen, Wild Things, passim. 177 For Burke on the beautiful, see Philosophical Enquiry, 100–14, ed. Phillips. For Claude Lorrain’s work as a painter of the ideal, classical, and ‘beautiful’ landscapes of ‘pastoral serenity,’ see, for example, Oxford Dictionary of Art, 108–9; also see, Knight, The Landscape, Book I (1st ed., 1794), 14, 15 and Knight, Analytical Inquiry, 152, 219. On Poussin’s work as exemplary of such characteristics, see Oxford Dictionary of Art, 396–8 and Knight, The Landscape, Book I (2nd ed., 1795), 17, and Analytical Inquiry, 152, 219. 178 For specific characteristics of the picturesque see, for example, Gilpin, Three

Introduction 101

179 180 181

182

183

184 185 186 187

188 189 190

191

Essays on Picturesque Beauty, 20 and 42; Knight, Analytical Inquiry, 438–41; Price, Essay on the Picturesque; Urry, Tourist Gaze, 18. Anne Langton, Langton Records, 28. Details of this exhibition are found in National Academy of Design: Catalogue for the Twelfth Annual Exhibition, 1837. Anne Langton, letter to William Langton, 27 June 1837, Langton Records, 32. This passage offers a rare glimpse of Langton’s attention to art supplies. See, for example, ‘A Native Growth of Landscape Painting,’ ch. 4 in Charles C. Caffin, The Story of American Painting; Thomas S. Cummings, Historic Annals of the National Academy of Design, 143–8. See Anne Langton, sketchbook, ‘Canada and United States [Hudson River and Sturgeon Lake],’ JLff, F 1077-8-1-4, AO. The quote is from Anne Langton, Story, 59. See, Catalogue of the First Exhibition of the Society of Artists and Amateurs of Toronto. The dearth of women artists (and the lowliness of their status) in Canada in 1834 can be gleaned from the catalogue. None of the female exhibitors is identified by name. A much later reprint lists one female exhibitor by name: ‘Mrs. Howard,’ presumably Jemima Frances, wife of John Howard, the principal organizer of the exhibition. John Howard was an architect and also drawing master at Upper Canada College. Another work was exhibited discreetly and unassumingly as ‘By a Lady.’ Four works were exhibited under the anonymous classification ‘An Amateur.’ These might also have been executed by women, for a possible total of 6 works by women among 196 exhibits. See Catalogue of the Second Exhibition of the Toronto Society of Arts, 1847. For discussion and examples of Cockburn’s work, see Christina Cameron and Jean Trudel, The Drawings of James Cockburn. See, for example, Anne Langton’s sketchbook, ‘Scotland and Wales,’ JLff, F 1077-8-1-1, as well as a number of her single sheet drawings, F 1077-8-9, AO. ‘Claudian’ refers to the manner of Claude Lorrain. ‘Framing’ refers to the theatrical sense of drawing back the side curtains (repoussoirs) to reveal the stage/scene setting. The framing more usually appears on both sides of a sketch. Langton’s most prolific sketching period, while living in the Fenelon area, was from 1837 to 1842, especially from late summer of 1837 to the fall of 1839. Anne Langton, Story, 65. Gilpin, Observations on the River Wye, 1: xxix; see also Three Essays on Picturesque Beauty, 68. See Blodgett, Centuries of Female Days, 194. For a discussion of bazaars in Upper Canada in the mid-nineteenth century, see Cecilia Morgan, Public Men and Virtuous Women. Anne Langton, Langton Records, 134.

102 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada 192 This is true of the works of Paul Kane; see, for example, Wanderings of an Artist among the Indians of North America. 193 John Langton, letter to Thomas Langton, 7 April, 1834, 3, Correspondence, Typescript mss., env. 11, JLff; F 1077, MU 1691, AO. 194 Anne Langton, Langton Records, 135. 195 See Chicago, Dinner Party, 12, 15, passim. 196 See Parker, Subversive Stitch, 23, 39, passim. 197 For historical discussion of china painting in Canada, see Elizabeth Collard, Nineteenth-Century Pottery and Porcelain in Canada, and The Potters’ View of Canada. 198 Anne Langton, ‘List of Aunt Anne’s China,’ 5, ‘Miscellaneous,’ env. 13, ms., JLff, F 1077, MU 1691, AO. The title has been added in another hand, apparently that of H.H. Langton. 199 West, Letters to a Young Lady, 2: 416. 200 Anne Langton, Langton Records, 232. 201 ‘Powder blue’ was used as a whitening laundry agent. 202 A verandah was seen as more than mere ornament. It was a linking space between the interior of the house and the grounds. Grillage, consisting of posts/columns with climbing vines and other plants, added an ornamental rustic touch. See Janet Wright, Architecture of the Picturesque in Canada, 7. 203 The sketch Blythe, dating from 1841, gives some idea of these features. Apparently a preparatory graphite sketch, it is now very faint. Viewers can benefit from the more detailed description in Langton’s journals. A later watercolour sketch, taken from roughly the same perspective as Langton adopted in her 1841 sketch, dates from about 1850 and gives the viewer a better idea of the house and grounds (JLff, F 1077-8-1-2, AO). In this later work, the grounds have matured into a picturesque setting for ‘the big house.’ A smaller version of this later image (also watercolour) is found as a loose drawing on card within the same sketchbook. 204 For discussion of the idea of the ferme ornée, which combined considerations of utility, profit, and beauty, see Repton, Observations on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening, 92ff. For details of John Langton’s plans of Blythe Farm, see note 87, above. Today, only Anne’s sketches of the house and John’s drawings for its construction remain. Blythe farmhouse was demolished in the late 1950s, despite efforts by Mrs MacAlpine to save it, including a letter to the premier of Ontario, Leslie Frost. It could still possibly be reconstructed as the logs were saved and numbered when it was torn down. They were stored for many years in Claremont, Ontario, then taken back to Blythe Farm by the present owners for possible reassembly, but the project has not materialized. 205 See, for example, the work of Mary Ellen Best in Davidson, World of Mary Ellen Best, passim.

Introduction 103 206 Anna Margaret was only a few weeks old at the time of the Langtons’ emigration. Two more of William and Margaret’s children had been born since the family left England. These three would have had no recollection of their Canadian relatives. 207 Maryboro’ Lodge, ALAC, CKLRAF, #811. Maryboro’ Lodge is now the home of the Fenelon Falls Museum. 208 For details of Boyd’s life and work, see Grace E.J. Barker, Timber Empire; D.J. Wurtele, ‘Mossom Boyd: Lumber King of the Trent Valley. 209 ‘Anne Langton’s Journal. Brief Notes 1821–1837; 1881–1891,’ 4, Journals, env. 12, 2, JLff, F 1077, MU 1691, AO. Langton does not refer to these brief notes as journals, although the second one is headed, at the beginning of each year, in her handwriting, ‘Record [year].’ The formal title was likely given by an archives staff member for classification purposes. 210 For manuscript and typescript letters of John Langton, see 1, Correspondence, envs. 1–6: A & B, JLff, F 1077, MU 1690, AO. 211 I had several conversations about the Langton family with Mrs MacAlpine at her home in Toronto in the mid-1970s. 212 This would seem to argue against his choice of title, but he most probably selected it for its precise evocation of Anne Langton, her era, and context. 213 H.H. Langton, preface, in Anne Langton, Gentlewoman, xiii. 214 See James Scott, ‘Saga of Pioneer Life Distaff Side’s Version,’ reviews page in an unidentified newspaper, or other periodical, n.d.; ‘English Lady Pioneers on the Kawartha Lakes,’ Globe and Mail [?], 13 May 1950; ‘Upper Canada Seen by a Gentlewoman,’ unidentified newspaper, or other periodical, n.d.; George Frazer, ‘Reviews of New Books,’ unidentified newspaper, or other periodical, n.d., 407; F.E.D. McD, ‘Pioneer Classic,’ Saturday Night, 4 July 1950, 28; George W. Spragge in Canadian Historical Review 31, no. 3 (1950): 315–6; W.S. Wallace, ‘Varsity Authors’ section, Varsity Graduate (Toronto, 1950, 48). Clippings of these reviews are found in A73-0026 2018, UTARMS. It is interesting that the book was reviewed mostly by men. 215 E.J. Philips, preface, in Anne Langton, Langton Records, v. 216 Remarks in a letter from Ellen Josephine Philips (née Langton) to ‘Fanny’ (no last name given), 1905, in which Philips refers to her 1854 visit to the Sturgeon Lake area. This letter was given to the present author, 30 October 1990, by (now late) Michael Langton, of London, England. 217 The first quotation is from Anne Langton’s sea voyage journal, 21 June 1837; the second, from her journal entry, 20 November 1842. For similar expressions of tender affection, see, for example, David Fitzpatrick, Oceans of Consolation, 122, 124. 218 John Langton had served on the university senate for several years during the 1850s and as vice-chancellor, 1856–60. See ‘University of Toronto Senate

104 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

219 220 221 222

Minute Books, 1855–1860,’ A70-0005, Box 1, UTARMS. John later became member of Parliament for Peterborough and, a few years afterwards, first auditor for Upper and Lower Canada. Still later, he was auditor and deputy minister of finance for the Dominion of Canada. See Pratt, Imperial Eyes, 39. Van Kirk, ‘Many Tender Ties,’ 1. Van Kirk here cites James Douglas’s remarks to chief trader James Hargrave. Heilbrun, Writing, 18. She uses these words in her journal entry of 13 October 1838.

Recto Running Head 105

JOURNALS AND LETTERS OF ANNE LANGTON AND HER FAMILY

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Recto Running Head 107

Letters, 1834–1835

Extract from a letter from John Langton, Blythe Cottage, Fenelon, Upper Canada, to Thomas Langton, dated 28 July 18341 The only subject which I have now left to enlarge upon is your coming out to Canada. You will probably have heard from Hugh Hornby,2 to whom I wrote a very hasty letter the other day, that I have made up my mind upon the subject. The fact is that you gave me a month to consider it well, and I have taken six before I could come to a determination. Though I said nothing about it in my letters, simply because I could not speak decisively, I was decided upon one point, that your emigration should not take place this summer. Those who have not seen the hurry and confusion of a first year in a new settlement, with twenty things to be done at once and neither hands nor time to do one effectually, cannot of course exactly comprehend the state of affairs; but you will easily imagine that if in addition to this I had to make preparations for your reception, the work would have been doubled on my hands and nevertheless I should have found it difficult to have made you at all comfortable before winter. Now, however, I have a good clearing beforehand; my own house and buildings are, or soon will be, sufficient for the present, and all the other nameless things which have to be done on first settling will no longer occupy my attention; but above all I

1 Editor’s note (BW): This letter gives background details of the Langton family’s decision to join John Langton in Canada. It illustrates the family’s philosophical and practical approach to life and the good-natured tenor of their mutual relations. Philips does not include this letter in her edition. 2 This particular Hugh Hornby was a cousin of Anne and John Langton’s. In England, the Langtons had intermarried, over several generations, with two other notable Lancashire families, the Hornbys and the Birleys.

108 Letters, 1834–1835

have now seen enough to authorize me in promising that you will have to encounter no unbearable fatigues or privations, and I have gained experience of what is to be done and how it is to be done for your accommodation, which will save me from doing many things twice over. I can now therefore say that I advise your coming out to me, and that next spring I can be ready to receive you. For myself I never did doubt that your company would add much to my comfort, and I have seen enough of what is done, or rather what is not done, during my necessary absences to be well aware how much better the farm would go on were there somebody about the place to act as viceroy. However, it is not on my own account that I approve of your scheme; comfort I have learned to do pretty well without, and, in due time, a viceroy may perhaps be found. I do not know how I can promise you greater happiness here than you might have at home, only that it seems to be your wish to try the change. I certainly never should think of proposing to anybody at your time of life to come to the backwoods unless a large family were the inducement, but the proposal comes from you, and all I have to do is – to tell you what you have to expect, leaving you to determine whether you will make the sacrifice. To you, then in the first place I must address myself and tell you what you will miss here. You will miss society of which you are fond, at least you will find no one of your own age with whom you would like to associate much, and anything in a literary or scientific way is a still rarer occurrence; but you will meet with some very agreeable, well informed young men, some of whom I know you will like, and a quiet rubber or a game of chess with occasional varieties will not be wanting. Then I am afraid of our hot summers (the thermometer 95° in the shade last Saturday) and our cold winters, minus 17° at Peterboro.’ Only one thing more strikes me with regard to you; it is a matter of slight importance in itself but it recurs every day – viz., eating. Next year things will be much improved in this respect and my mother’s culinary knowledge will do more. But do what you will, for a year or two you will have often to dine on salt pork. These will be your trials, and, if you can get over them, I doubt not that, with superintending improvements, experiments on the farm in a small way, botany, a book and a map, you will get through life very comfortably. It occurs to me that, as a consolation, rheumatism is almost unknown in this country, our cold being almost always dry cold; but again – the distance from medical advice, should your old complaint return, is a matter for deliberation, and I should say especially as to its possible return on the voyage. And now my dear mother – for society, salt pork and cold I know you do not care, and the heat is so tempered with breezes that I do not think much

Letter from John Langton, 2 July 1835 109

of that. Thunderstorms we certainly have frequently in summer, but with that exception I do not dread the climate for you; if you could overcome the voyage out, I know of nothing to annoy you much here except the servants, and so convinced am I that you never could agree with them that I should make it a sine qua non that Anne take the whole housekeeping department. I should assign you each a separate office. My father of course would be my adviser and in my absence the alter ego; to you should be exclusively left the duties of beautifying the house and garden, no sinecure on a new farm; Anne must be Prime Minister in the Home department, and Aunt Alice, for, if you come, she must accompany you, shall reign paramount in the pigstye, poultry yard, etc., and shall be my Master of the Wardrobe. To Anne I need say nothing as she is determined to come out and as, with the assistance of the Swedish stove, she may be as content as at Bootle. To Aunt Alice I need only say – that my mother will be there; her presence is more conspicuously wanted than that of any of you – in the shape of trousers rent, buttons missing or strayed, and several heavy casualties lately in the poultry yard. Extract from a letter from John Langton to Thomas Langton, dated 2 July 1835.3 Upon the subject of Richard Birley it is very difficult to advise.4 I would recommend any person in his situation to purchase a partially cleared farm

3 Although H.H. Langton dates this letter 21 July, I give preference to the 2 July dating, as this corresponds to the dating in Early Days, 138, and in Thomas Langton’s ms. notebook copy of John Langton’s original letters. See original notebook of John Langton’s letters, copied by Thomas Langton, 12 June 1833–22 October 1835, JLff, F 1077-2-1, 2, Notebooks, MU 1690, env. 9, AO. Philips omits this letter from her edition. 4 Richard Birley (1806–45), a cousin of William, Anne and John Langton. See ‘Pedigree of Birley of Blackburn,’ in ‘Pedigrees, family tree, genealogy of Currer, Birley, Langton families,’ JLff, F 1077-5, MU 1691, 5, Miscellaneous, env. 13, AO. While relating specifically to Richard Birley’s situation, this letter also reflects the reality of many settlers. Birley was contemplating emigration. Unable to keep positions that he had held in England, he was, as a last resort, urging two of his uncles to provide funds for his emigration to Canada. John’s letter is in response to their request for a realistic estimate of the likelihood of success for a person in Birley’s circumstances. Birley emigrated to Canada sometime after May 1835, quite possibly before John Langton’s letter reached England. The hapless narrative of his Canadian experiences – numerous misfortunes and premature death – forms a marked contrast to the Langtons’ experiences. (Letters documenting Richard Birley’s emigration and settlement are currently on loan to the present editor, from Miss Barbara Birley of Manchester, England, with a view to publishing an edition of them.)

110 Letters, 1834–1835

but not one in full operation, – say a farm with 20 acres that have been cropped and laid down in grass, and such a farm, with house on it which might serve for a kitchen or for the workmen, might I think be got within 5 or 8 miles of a market for £150. £50 more must be allowed for building a house to accommodate his family and for a barn. Observe that these must both be log buildings quite of the common kind. He should then have for £200 his house and land; the grass would at once enable him to keep oxen and a cow or two, and he might go on yearly chopping and adding to the extent of his farm and at the end of 3 years he would be able to break up his grass and commence farming upon a more regular system; but he must consider that the fitting up of the house for his family would cost a good deal, and, for the first year at any rate, he must calculate upon having to buy all his provisions; the wages of a good man and his keep would very easily amount to £50 a year, and, notwithstanding all that Mr. Pickering may say to the contrary, in 9 years out of 10 the first crop will not pay for the expenses of clearing his new land.5 Then there are several years to wait and very serious expenses to be met before the whole farm will be under proper cultivation and producing adequate returns. In my opinion a man with a family, unless he have boys old enough to assist him and unless he is determined to work hard himself – and indeed determined that he and his boys should do the main part of the work themselves – I say unless a family man be so situated, he should not attempt to settle on a farm in Canada with less than £1000 and even with that he must use great economy. A single man, even upon an uncleared farm, where of course you have longer to wait before the farm is fully productive, may soon get far enough to live at a very small expense, but for a family man I would decidedly recommend partially cleared land. ... I cannot conceal from myself that had I gone upon such a farm as I am describing instead of going upon Sturgeon Lake I should in all probability have been richer than I am by £200 or more.

5 John Langton is here likely referring to Joseph Pickering’s Emigrant’s Guide: Inquiries of An Emigrant. Being the narrative of an English farmer, from the year 1824 to 1830, which was published in London in 1831.

Recto Running Head 111

Journals and Letters, 1837

Letter from Thomas Langton to William Langton, 25 May 1837; received 15 July 18371 my dear william – I will not venture to say anything on the subject of our yesterday’s parting. I could only speak of my own feelings, and pass over silently those of the females of my party, who perhaps feel more acutely, though not more strongly than man, but who suffer from the effort to suppress the natural expression of their feelings. In our vessel we however, I believe, were the only ones who seemed to have anybody to feel for them, or for them to feel about, one lady excepted, who was leaving her own friends and relatives, but was going to rejoin her husband and children at Toronto. [...] The ladies keep to their beds – the elderly ones from the unsettled state of their stomachs; Anne by orders, having got a little cold. [...] As yet there is little sickness. Your mother leads off, but there are many pale faces, which indicate that others will soon join the dance. Letter from Anne Langton on board the Independence, to Mrs. William Langton, 26 May 18372 I have just been making the experiment of writing in a perfectly recumbent position, and I find it so practicable that I am going to write you the first 1 Recovered material (EP): ‘Letter from thomas langton ... dance.’ H.H. Langton begins entries for 1837 with a section from Anne Langton’s journal dated 31 May 1837: ‘I will give you a few hints ... ’ 2 Recovered material (EP): ‘Letter from Anne Langton … invalids till today.’ As there is some overlap in the separate accounts of the voyage kept by Thomas and Anne Langton, I dove-

112 Journals and Letters, 1837

sheet of my journal-letter reclining, and give you a few of the particulars of our first setting out, which, as unimportant, may have faded from our memory before we are able to write. After we had really ceased to distinguish any one figure on the crowded pier, even the little blue bonnet raised over your shoulders which remained the longest conspicuous, we went below to make our arrangements in our cabin with as much method as possible, placed all the most necessary articles in the most come-at-able places, and succeeded in making our interior look tolerably comfortable. We then revisited the deck to wave our handkerchiefs to New Brighton and Bootle friends. I saw Ellen Briggs’ signal, and many a well-known spot on the opposite side of the river.3 Whilst making my preparations I discovered the little note you had put within my basket, and I cannot tell you how soothing it was to meet thus unexpectedly with these affectionate words from you. The little book you found on the table had occupied the book-case since the 17th of April, but I took it out to place within it the lines I subsequently met with. [...] We were all able, at the summons of the dinner bell, to go down, and eat a little cold beef. The elder ladies then retired very prudently to their berths. I wish I had done so too, as I should not then have taken cold. But I took one turn too many on the deck with my father, and felt it immediately. After tea, and seeing my mother fairly in her bed, I retired to mine. The trying operation of undressing did upset my mother, and nearly so me, but the next morning’s report of the former was not very unsatisfactory, and I had had some very comfortable sleep. [...] My first adventure was on stepping into my berth. I was alarmed, and thought it would be quite impossible to sleep on such an uneven surface; but inserting my hand underneath the mattrass [sic], I drew forth nothing less than a lamp. [...] The ladies’ cabin is uninviting – it is quite a nursery. Six children and their nurses occupy it almost constantly, the floor is strewn with play-

tail them as closely as possible chronologically. This particular insertion introduces Anne Langton in relatively unguarded moments. She makes frank observations revealing her emotions, without editorial censure – an indulgence she seldom allows herself, probably for fear of appearing ‘unladylike,’ as will become apparent in later entries. ‘Ship Independence’: the passenger list for ‘Independence, Liverpool,’ at its arrival at Port of New York (Ellis Island), in the District of New York, includes the names Thomas Langton, Ellen Langton, Anne Langton, Alice Currer, National Archives and Records Office, Washington, NATF 81, Passenger Arrival Records B, 19 June 1837. 3 Ellen Briggs: a cousin of Anne Langton on her mother’s side. Ellen Briggs had apparently pre-arranged a signal – probably a flag or similar object – on the Cheshire side of the Mersey at New Brighton, so that the Langtons onboard ship would be able to discern her at a distance and exchange a final wave.

Journal of Anne Langton, 28–31 May 1837 113

things, and the table covered with porridge basons [sic]. The noise, of course, we cannot shut out, but we shall probably get accustomed to it. It continues calm, and we continued tolerably well till towards evening, when it changed. I heard the word capsize, felt a sudden and very great descent on one side, followed by the most tremendous crash, and the exclamation – ‘All the wine bottles are down!’ I suppose they were empty ones, as little sensation was occasioned by the event. I suppose such are of frequent occurrence. [...] I had occupied myself as much as the light would allow me all the day, and resisted dozing inclinations. I was thoroughly tired and sleepy at night, and never, I think, enjoyed more profound slumber, though occasionally roused to a sense of my rocking state. This morning I made a sort of half-dressing, in order that I might visit my poor mother, but I was not long before I came to my berth again. I could do her no good, [...] as she is in an upper berth, and I was not up to standing. I think she did not look quite so wretched as I have seen her before. My father has been sick, and my Aunt Alice also, but she dozes [sic] a great deal. Of course I have as yet made very few observations on our fellowpassengers. From the journal of Anne Langton, 28–31 May 1837 Sunday evening, May 28. I can now report of us at the end of another two days. We are all improving, but some rather slowly. Yesterday I was able to dress myself and attend a little on my mother, and to remain up with a book and my needle alternately, if my head was but supported. [...] There was a great muster of ladies in the cabin, and I sat there a little in the evening, and was amused with their chattering. [...] I can now say something of some our fellow-passengers. [...] I shall first introduce you to Miss Ledger. [...] She is going over alone to join friends, having never before traversed the Atlantic. Since her berth was taken she had a serious illness, [...] is in a weak state, and only appears amongst us occasionally. She is too languid to make much acquaintance with, but as she revives I hope to do so. [...] Mr. and Miss Ormstead are my next acquaintances.4 They are returning from a tour on the Continent, where Mrs. Ormstead has died. [...] The 4 Mr Ormstead, a wealthy American, was a former businessman (Thomas Langton, Langton Records, 5).

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young lady appears scarcely twenty, is an only child, very chatty, and I daresay will be a pleasant fellow-traveller. Then follow Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell and two babies, for the elder cannot walk. [...] Another lady has three children, very noisy ones, and two maids, who are constantly filling up our cabin. [...] One more lady remains, whose name I have also not heard, but she is quite of the mirthful order. Were this party an English one I should say they were all somewhat vulgar, but as Americans I feel I cannot judge them – still, I think some of them must be so. To-day all have been better. My mother and Aunt Alice have each taken a turn on deck, and been able to retain a little nourishment. I expect to see them quite bright to-morrow if good weather continues. [...] We occupy the house on deck occasionally. [...] Yesterday my mother was able to open her little box from Sophia Ralph. It contained several little elegancies – ivory tablets for my father, a case of scissors, needlecase, etc., etc., in silver, and a gold vinegrette [sic] for my mother and a beautiful gold pencil-case for Aunt Alice.5 I think I have now told you all the events, great and small. I will descant upon the comforts and discomforts another day. [...] Wednesday, May 31 [...] It is now a week since we sailed – a very long one it appears. I am again reduced to the recumbent position; we have a high swell and wind dead ahead, and everybody looks deplorable. My father, after rising, has taken to his couch again. My mother remains quietly in hers, but is pretty comfortable there. Aunt Alice is the most ailing of our party. She is very weak, and has had a great deal of fever once or twice. [...] We have felt quite uneasy about her, and she has been very despairing. Happily I have been able to look after and tend the invalids till to-day. Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, begun onboard the Independence, to William Langton, Manchester, 31 May 18376 I will give you a few hints in case you or any of yours cross the Atlantic. Bring a small mattress with you, for the aching of the bones when obliged to toss upon a hard, uneven surface for some days is no trifling inconvenience. My cold may have made mine more tender than usual. In the next place, bring a few basin cloths, for one is apt to look upon one’s wash-hand basin 5 Such items were emblems of the refined way of life that the family was leaving behind. Sophia Ralph is never mentioned again in any of the Langtons’ writings. 6 H.H. Langton begins his edition of Anne Langton’s letters and journals with this entry.

Letter from Anne Langton, 31 May 1837 115

with perpetual mistrust. Do not be quite dependent upon the packet’s library for reading. I am glad that we are not so. There are odd volumes, pages torn out, and the key sometimes not forthcoming. But I should strongly recommend avoiding a crowded packet-ship, and therefore one of great repute, or perhaps a packet-ship at all. A person should have health and spirits to stand the noise, the confusion and the merriment. Go where you will, there is no quiet except on a day like this, when the wildest appear subdued. There is certainly a great advantage in being able at all hours to call for anything – gruel, tea, lemonade, sago, or anything you can well think of. I do not say all good of their kind; our tea, for instance, is neither good nor hot; coffee better. Your dinner when brought to you may often be cold, and when your appetite is most delicate a great, big, fat slice may be sent to you. These evils would diminish when you could sit at table, but the dreadful length of the meal would be worse. I said to one lady, who had been at the table at least two hours, ‘I am sorry for you having had such a tedious sit.’ ‘Oh, I like it,’ said she, ‘and I have been eating all the time.’ The dinner benches having backs, you cannot move without disturbing several [people], unless you can get to one end. I wish these backs were on some of the stools, for unless you are lucky enough to get one of the sofa corners there is no rest for the head except such as the elbow and hand can afford, and rest for the head is often indispensable on board a ship. We have great comfort from the spare pillows. I generally contrive to perform the great task of dressing myself in time for breakfast, which meal appears about nine o’clock.7 The transatlantic ladies eat cold and hot meat, fried or pickled fish, or oysters, to this first meal, which seems with them a substantial one.8 A cup of coffee and a cracker is generally mine. The eggs are dubious, and your basket was a most wise and acceptable addition to our sea store on my father’s account. I think my father and mother are very well off in their airy cabin and the atmosphere is much more agreeable than within ours, at least on a breezeless day.9 The evening noises are great, but we have those of the children to our share. I do not find the American ladies improve upon me. Our English fellow-passenger, Miss Ledger, appears a sensible, clever, and lady-like young woman. [...] I have made so few acquaintances amongst the gentlemen that I shall reserve them for another chapter, if they be worth one.

7 H.H. Langton uses this paragraph as the concluding one for 31 May 1837. Philips presents it as Anne Langton’s journal entry for 4 June. 8 ‘transatlantic ladies’: in Langton’s vocabulary, denotes Americans. 9 Recovered material (EP): ‘I think my father ... passage across the Atlantic.’ In Philips’s version, this passage follows on directly from ‘ ... spare pillows.’

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Sunday, June 4. I last wrote on Wednesday, when we were beginning to toss about a good deal. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday we continued to have a great deal of motion, and suffer accordingly. Sometimes it is my mother, sometimes Aunt Alice for whom my fears and sympathies are greatest, and sometimes I bestow a little compassion upon myself. [...] I can scarcely now separate the events of each day so as to give you a regular journal, nor are they quite so uniform as to tell our regular mode of proceeding.10 The last few days I have nursed my cold in the cabin, and as it is really cold on deck this course is best. [...] Now and then we have a gentleman visitor, and the Captain always pays us a visit each evening, and sometimes keeps us up till near twelve. This is after I have seen my old ladies in bed, and being at perfect liberty to rake. I do not always take advantage of it, but sometimes creep to my hole before the conversazione. There is often a great deal of animated nonsense going forward, which I like to hear – a pint bottle of Vin de Muscat, or something of that kind, makes its appearance, and we close another of our thirty days.11 I often have my [embroidery] work in my hand, but I do not accomplish much. No other lady seems so well provided with employment, but almost all seem to look a little enviously at my resources. I do not improve my acquaintance with Miss Ledger. She looks too ill to be talked to, especially by one who does not hear well, but I feel much interested about her. She has told me she is leaving all the friends she has proved, but going where she expects to have a very near one, though she appears to have left herself free to decide finally after she gets to New York whether she remains or not. Her illness had been brought on by excitement on a rather sudden determination upon this step. She is a bold woman to come alone on such an errand, and in such a state. Our youthful heiress – Miss Ormstead – is also engaged, and has her swain on board with her. He is likewise the sole heir to a large fortune, but I suspect has more dollars than ideas. He has only been detected in general conversation once, and then on the interesting topic of boots, shoes, and slippers. Mr. Ormstead tells us that people do not marry for money in America, as in England, but I listened to a conversation on ‘matches’ between two others of our company, and I think the word fortune occurred as often as it might have done with us. [...] Our stewardesses are sufficiently important personages to be intro10 At this point in Anne Langton’s journal entry for June 4 1837, Philips has the passage that H.H. Langton used earlier as the concluding paragraph for May 31, 1837: ‘I generally contrive ... account.’ 11 ‘another of our thirty days’: the projected length of the voyage if all went well.

Journal of Thomas Langton, 4 June 1837 117

duced to you. They are two – a tall, dark-brown, elegant but immovable person, who performs her duties coldly and slowly, and the jet-black wife of the steward, whose countenance is never-varying sunshine. She smiles good-naturedly at every one, however much trouble you may give her, and accordingly wins all hearts. I often pity the poor attendants, they must be kept in constant motion. Four large meals each day to be served, and deserved, besides sundry messes perpetually called for by one or other of our forty passengers, and not always the greatest degree of patience manifested. They ought to be well paid. I scribble away, dear Margaret, but I never tell you what I have been thinking about. That I leave you to imagine. Sometimes all appears very odd and dreary to me, and I can scarce conceive that all the occurrences of the last few months are real. From the journal of Thomas Langton, 4 June 1837 June 4. A long interruption to my journal. In fact before the night closed in, the prediction with which I concluded, was fully verified. The oldest sailor on board (myself) was as sick as any one, and I have never till today had the courage to take pen in hand. [...] During these ten days the ladies have been very ill. I hope, however, that the sickness is abating, though it has by no means left them. [...] From the journal of Anne Langton, 7 June 1837 Wednesday, June 7. It is a fortnight to-day since we bade you farewell. It appears an age, but I daresay, when all the adventures and miseries of the sea voyage are left behind, and its various trials and endurances are blended into one, the monotonous period will occupy a small portion of our retrospective view. Even now, when all is present to me, I feel, whenever other circumstances may lead to such a step, I shall encounter a second voyage without hesitation. Sunday was the last day on which I wrote – it was really a day of rest, the motion being much more easy than we had experienced for some days. [...] Tuesday was a delightful change. We had the wind for the first time really in our favour, and it was delightful on deck, my cold being also really improving. In the evening too the water was phosphoric, and the Captain summoned us on deck near midnight to see the sparkling waves. It was very beautiful. To-day we have a slight reverse of fortune – a calm or very trifling wind, drizzling rain all the day, and very close below stairs. I have taken to

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my pen, having tired myself with my other occupations. I took out my screen one day, but I soon gave up the hope of accomplishing it.12 Not but what I have often been well enough for the work, but all other circumstances are unsuited to it. My own knee is my only work-table (my writingtable too), and many other things combine to upset my scheme of providing your table with a memento of our passage across the Atlantic. Yesterday, when our spirits were high, a lottery was set on foot – a usual amusement, I find, on these voyages. The tickets, 10s. each, are marked, each with six given hours of a given day, between the 17th and 25th of June, and whoever has drawn those hours on which the pilot comes on board will have won the purse – the first ticket including all preceding days. This was immediately sold by auction again for £3:10s, and as the wind and weather may change the expectations regarding our arrival, more buying and selling takes place, and the interest and amusement kept up. They have a most noisy game on deck as another pastime, called shuffleboard, which I do not intend to describe, but only complain of.13 I have not sailed in many ships, but I think I never heard any creaking at all equal to what we have almost constantly. It varies, however, somewhat; but when the boards nearest to your head are the noisy ones it is really at times distressing. I, however, sleep uncommonly well – I wish others did likewise. I do not complain either of my mattrass [sic], now that I have studied its geography, and having acquainted myself with its hills and valleys can bring the elevations and depressions of my own person to correspond and fit in. From the journal of Thomas Langton, 7–8 June 1837 June 7. A couple of rough days have again interrupted my writing, but they have been days of good progress. [...] Mr. Ormstead is clever, very well-informed, cheerful, very willing to talk, rather than talkative, and the one of the party with whom I have the most converse. He chats also a good deal with Anne. His future son-in-law is very reserved, and mixes little with his countrymen, who, as Mr. Ormstead informs me, are nearly all of a second-rate class and whose acquaintance it would not be easy to decline on land if he had allowed himself to be familiar with them on board. They are indeed a noisy, boisterous rough set. [...] There are, however, two or three other Americans, 12 Langton was embroidering a firescreen. 13 Recovered material (EP): ‘They have a most noisy game ... Duke of Wellington’s health at dinner.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 11 June 1837 119

who, without ranking for wealth, etc., along with Ormstead and Schermerhorn, keep likewise very much aloof from the wild set.14 Of these, Mr. Ormstead believes most, if not all, to be driven home by the [economic] difficulties of the times – all more or less damaged, and some of them seriously. [...] From the conversation and stories I occasionally hear I should tremble for the eventual solvency of those great American [banking] houses in England, which have been the medium for lending British capital to American speculators – principally land speculators. Farms worth dollars 10/m sold, from some supposed capabilities, for 100/m, and in a month or two, the futility of the expectations becoming apparent, would be sold again, could a buyer be found, for less than the real value. These stories vary in the details but the same features run through them all. [...] June 8. Yesterday and today have been days of good progress, though, being foggy and wet, unfavourable for exercise on deck, especially for the ladies. [...] We are now anxious about the ice, which in the present fog could not be seen till near. The wind, being southerly, is warm, and gives no indications that can be relied on. The degree of heat of the water is from time to time consulted, whilst watch is constantly kept on each board and the forecastle. Some of us would like to see an iceberg, and may regret having missed the sight of seven whales, which for a few days were floundering about near us, and spouting up water as high as the topmast yard. I am one of the regretters. If we get back our wind, which has left us in the lurch just now, we may expect to be on the [Grand] Banks to-morrow. From the journal of Anne Langton, 11 June 1837 Sunday June 11. Two or three days after I last wrote passed drearily enough. We were on and about the Banks, where the weather is seldom good. A drizzling sort of fog prevailed, and the air was so chilly as to drive the gentlemen into the roundhouse, and oblige the ladies to retreat to their cabin, which was often crowded and comfortless. My mother and I seldom contributed to fill it, until towards evening, as I take my station in my mother’s state-room until her levée. But when we are all assembled, without the intrusion of any gentlemen, we muster eighteen – children crying, nurses scolding, and ladies’ voices endeavouring to overpower the other noises, rendering the confusion 14 Mr Schermerhorn was Miss Ormstead’s fiancé.

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most oppressive. There ought certainly, in these packets, to be some arrangement for the accommodation of maids and children, so as not to interfere so greatly with the general comfort. Speaking of the voices of ladies, I must tell you that the American twang, as we hear it here, is very harsh and grating from the females, the men have it in a much less degree, and I think many speak very little differently from Englishmen. However, I find they talk of the brogue with which the English speak English, so I suppose they like their own accent better than ours. I know very well I ought not to form a judgment on American ways and manners from the specimens in our ship, but though I know it, I feel that a certain impression will have been made, and as I shall most probably see little more of the people, that impression will be in some measure permanent. Yesterday and to-day have been finer, and admitted of our airing ourselves on deck. The refreshment was delightful, for we were beginning to sicken again. [...] I have never been very sea-sick, but I have not rallied so well as many. Except on the very best days, my head will not bear being unsupported many minutes together with impunity [...]. We are now hoping to have entered upon the last week of it [our voyage], and rejoicing in the possibility that a continuation of our present wind would bring us to New York about the middle of it, though we must not build too certainly upon all circumstances being favourable. We certainly, on the whole, have very great reason to congratulate ourselves on the weather we have had. The first twelve days we experienced contrary winds, but they were still such as to enable us to advance very steadily. We have only been twice becalmed, once for a day, and once for part of one. We have experienced no tempest, though sometimes a very unpleasant degree of roughness; but if that was bad enough we may be truly glad it was no worse. Latterly our winds have been favourable [...] now we are going at nine, ten, and even eleven knots an hour. For three nights, whilst in the region where ice may be looked for at this season, our Captain was constantly aloft, and a degree of anxiety was to be traced in his countenance. Now we are beyond its reach, I believe, and we have seen none. I had certainly entertained a desire to see an iceberg, but I saw many in such dread of them that I was forced to give up the wish. [...] From the journal of Thomas Langton, 12 June 1837 June 12. [...] Yesterday was a trying day. We were going before the wind about fourteen miles an hour, with a rolling sea that occasioned many trifling and

Journal of Anne Langton, 14–20 June 1837 121

laughable accidents. [...] We were not without our share in the mischances of the day. Whilst we were sitting quietly in the ladies’ room, our room nearly turned topsy-turvy, and the egg-basket having been compelled to part with the remains of its cargo, the eggs were tossed backwards and forwards till the carpet was quite ready to put in the frying pan, where it would have made a delicious and magnificent omelet. The state of the room was not discovered till your mother was going to bed, about eleven o’clock, and a long purification had then to be commenced. [...] Should we experience no reverse, we may be in New York within the three weeks. [...] From the journal of Anne Langton, 14–20 June 1837 Wednesday, June 14. The evening of the self-same day on which I last wrote, the breeze freshened, and we had something more in the way of a gale [...] and though the motion was very considerable I experienced no unpleasant effects. [...] Indeed, I think it was the first day, at least for any length of time, that I felt really well, and I made my first public appearance at the tea-table, where the cups were slipping about, and streams [of tea] often meandering about the table. We had some ludicrous scenes that evening from tumbling gentlemen and rolling ladies. But whilst we were amused with these things in the cabin we little thought of the confusion we should find presently on retiring to our state-rooms. Scarcely anything had kept its place. Some of our doors were blockaded with boxes, and an ingress effected with difficulty. I was a few minutes on deck to see the majestic way in which we cut through the waters. [...] The following evening I had a moonlight walk on deck, the water scarcely more than rippled, and yesterday it approached still more to the semblance of a looking-glass, but we were creeping along so very slowly that the delightful tranquillity was not duly appreciated. [...] To-day we are getting on somewhat better, but still very quietly, yet I hope we may keep next Sunday in New York. It is three weeks now since we embarked. My cold is departing, but it yet subjects me to many restrictions on enjoyment. [...] I was [...] summoned on deck to see some whales sporting in our vicinity. There appeared to be several, from the spoutings of water in various directions. Two only came near to us, and allowed us occasionally to see the length of their backs. They were fine fellows certainly, but as our experience cannot at all measure distances at sea, neither can we form very distinct notions of their size. I was well pleased to have seen them.

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Friday, June 16. I have just been thinking that it is the christening day at Swinton, and we may think of many of our friends who are assembled together.15 I wish we could have kept the day in New York, but we shall not fail to drink Master Frederic’s [sic] health, and send many a thought and kind wish back amongst you. Since my last date we have gone on rather slowly, but so quietly that we cannot at all complain. Part of yesterday we went at the rate of nine or ten knots an hour, and yet the motion was scarcely perceptible. The sea was so waveless that a slight breeze carried us swiftly through the unresisting waters. I could really enjoy the sea [in] such weather as this, if those I most care for were capable of enjoying it too. [...] As Miss Ledger improves we become better acquainted. She is really a nice person, and one I should like to meet again at some future day. Mr. Ormstead continues our most amusing companion. He constantly reminds me of Mr. Weld16 in having something to say and relate upon every subject. But he is more fluent and animated. Everybody is beginning to pack and prepare for disembarkation, though there is small chance of that taking place before Sunday morning. Still to-morrow, I suppose, we shall probably see land again. We have had several vessels in sight to-day, which looks like an approach to port. I shall perhaps not take out my pen again at sea. [...] New York, Tuesday, June 20. I have to bring up my journal from the 16th. On the 17th a pilot came on board … Every one would gladly have deferred the arrival for three hours to disappoint the owner of [lottery ticket] number one. But the happy winner was a joyous exception. His countenance, however, with every other person’s, fell sadly when the pilot delivered his budget of news, for the gloom of the mercantile world exceeded what had been feared, and much general and individual calamity was communicated. Towards evening the lighthouses were distinguishable, and we anchored about eleven o’clock in the outer bay. Land, which had been only distantly seen before dark, was now visibly not far, and I determined to be up with the dawn, like a dutiful child, to greet my mother earth after our long separation. Accordingly, I was on deck to receive the sun’s first rays, and enjoyed it very much as long as there were only the pilot and seamen, but not quite so well when the Captain and other curious passengers began to appear, feeling that a lady 15 Swinton, near Manchester, was the home of Hugh Hornby Birley and his family. Frederick was the infant son of Hugh and his wife Cicely. 16 Irish travel writer Isaac Weld, whom the Langtons had first met in Rome.

Journal of Anne Langton, 14–20 June 1837 123

had not much business there at that hour. I afterwards only peeped up occasionally, but I had had a good gaze at the shores of the new world, and had seen a beautiful packet-ship weigh anchor just before us, and sail majestically by our side. [...] The ship was not to come into port for many hours, so after the visit of the health officer we went up the bay of New York in a steam-packet. The bay I had, unluckily, been told several times was equal to the Bay of Naples, and my first impressions were therefore of disappointment. But it is very beautiful in its own way, and so totally different from the one it was compared with that the comparison was absurd. The shores are rich and gay looking – the islands seem to enclose it, leaving openings only, which sometimes show more distant portions of the coast stretching out beyond. The opening of the North river is very bold, and the many sails and gay steamers going in all directions made the scene as bright and brilliant as that of Naples perhaps. Mr. Ormstead would have persuaded me that the Bay of Naples was grand but not beautiful. When he spoke of its barren volcanic rocks he forgot its orange groves. It was about eleven o’clock, I think, that the goodly company on board the Independence touched the shores, and dispersed, though several of the gentlemen reappeared at the hotel. Miss Ledger we did not part from so soon. She became one of our own party until Captain Nye should have informed her friend of her arrival. As he [her friend] expected her by this ship, of course he was supposed to be on the look-out, and at hand, but about ten hours elapsed before he made his appearance. This was owing to mistakes. [...] It certainly did appear very strange, and whilst I sought to soothe and encourage, I certainly feared that all was not right. Melancholy, indeed, would have been her situation had our fears been realised. [...] However, at length we were relieved, and the following morning we parted with mutual feelings of interest, and a promise to let each other hear how the next few weeks have sped with each. We had every mark of respect shown us on arriving. Every British vessel had its colours flying to welcome its distinguished countrymen, and we returned the compliment by drinking the Duke of Wellington’s health at dinner.17 On Monday morning, the 19th, I accompanied my father to the ship to superintend the examination of our baggage. It was a tedious, fatiguing, and patience-trying affair, and I could not help thinking we were more narrowly scrutinized than others, though nothing in the end was objected to. My poor father had to go to bed after it all.18 My mother 17 The British vessels in New York harbour were flying colours to celebrate the anniversary of Wellington’s victory over Napoleon (1815), on the day of their arrival in the New World. 18 Recovered material (EP): ‘My poor father had to go to bed ... after sailing.’

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had been chiefly in bed since we landed, or on the bed. A blister has been applied, but the head continues so suffering that she now talks of leeches.19 I wish she would be better without them, as she is pulled down quite enough. This morning I took a stroll with my father up Broadway, looking in at one or two booksellers, and seeing the annual exhibition of the paintings of native artists. There are two rooms pretty well filled, but offering a greater proportion of very indifferent things than the exhibitions of Liverpool and Manchester. From the catalogue, a very large proportion of them appear to be pictures already in the possession of different persons, and contributed for the occasion. I believe I must again recur to the voyage, for I have omitted to name one of the passengers, namely, our friend Fury. For some time she was a most miserable creature – not sick apparently, but totally at a loss to know what to make of it. Latterly she was at home with everything and everybody, and even gained courage to bark at some sailors, some of whom were evidently obnoxious to her. Two days before we landed we received hints from different quarters that there was a conspiracy to throw her overboard. Fancy how fidgetty [sic] we were, and how glad that this alarm had not occurred earlier on the voyage. Here we do not feel her to be very safe, as the regulations regarding dogs are very strict. If seen abroad, though with their masters, they are to be destroyed, or their masters heavily fined. We keep her very close, and it will be a happy day for her that we get to Blythe. The last week’s sailing was so beautiful that had our party been well I could have wished the voyage prolonged. As it was, I looked on the water the last evening with feelings of sadness. It was the love of an islander gazing on the ocean perhaps for the last time. But there was scarcely a joyous countenance amongst us the morning we dispersed. Most had serious cares and apprehensions. Some their painful retrospect, others fearful anticipations. Mr. Ormstead, returning without his wife, would willingly have exchanged with any of them, and as I looked around I thought perhaps we, with all our cares, were amongst the most tranquil in mind. In the afternoon of Sunday my father, Miss Ledger, and I went to church, and some of us heard a sermon on the times, with strong remonstrances against female extrava-

19 Historically, leeches were applied to ‘bleed’ a patient. Bleeding was supposed to procure relief or effect a cure from disease. Hot mustard plasters were applied to the skin to raise blisters by cauterizing, in the belief that toxins could be purged from the body by draining the blisters. On blisters, bloodletting, and leeches, see Volney Steele, M.D., Bleed, Blister, and Purge, 3–4, 323. See Joerg Graf, ‘Medical Use of Medicinal Leeches,’ www.sp.uconn.edu/~mcbstaff/graf/AvHm/MedUsemain.htm

Journal of Thomas Langton, 21 June 1837 125

gance. I did not, through the double defect of ears and eyes. The latter took the example of the former, and closed for a bit, but I was roused by the cordage and pullies [sic] of the ship sounding in my mind’s ear. I have felt less motion since landing than I ever did before after sailing. Shall I give you a chapter on American hotels? I think not – this is more particularly a journal of the sea. Suffice it to say, that I find reason in some respects to rejoice that we have been hardened by previous travel. ... From the journal of Thomas Langton, 21 June 1837 20 June 21. Calm and baffling winds again delayed us. We arrived, however, on the 18th, with a fine sunny day, which gave us a very favourable view of the city and the approach to it. From really cold weather we had thus a sudden change to mid-summer sun in lat. 41 – that of Paestum or thereabouts.21 Yesterday we had the passing of our luggage on the deck of the Independence at mid-day, the hardest and hottest work I have had for this many a day. The old ladies still suffer from the motion of the land, and Aunt Alice hears all the turmoil of putting the ship about in the night.22 I have written to my brother [Zachary Langton]23 to advise our arrival, the London packet ship [will be] sailing on the 20th. If I hear anything likely to interest you much by the 23rd I will write to you again. The [financial] alarm here is very great, and some seem to think all the great American [banking] houses in England must fall, not excepting Baring and Brown’s. [...] I will now stop my pen for the present, and with our loves to you, Margaret, and the children, and kind regards to Swinton and Ford Bank,24 subscribe myself, Your affectionate father, thos. langton [...]

20 Recovered material (EP): ‘From the journal ... after sailing.’ 21 Paestum, in Italy, lies south of Naples. The Langtons visited the city on their European tour. 22 The sensations of being at sea in a sailing vessel – especially after a voyage of more than a few days – often continued to be ‘perceived’ on land for several days after disembarking. 23 Zachary Langton, one of Thomas Langton’s four surviving brothers, was a successful merchant and master of the Skinners’ Company. He resided in London. Original notation (EP): ‘Zachary Langton.’ 24 Ford Bank, near Manchester, was the home of the eldest Birley brother, Joseph, and his family.

126 Journals and Letters, 1837

From the journal of Anne Langton, 21 June 1837 25 Wednesday, June 21. Another day has given me nothing to record. My mother is scarcely any better, and our plans, of course, unformed. Some of our fellow-passangers [sic] call on us, and testify some interest in the progress of our bold adventure. Indeed it must appear a more adventurous step to our new friends than to our old ones, for these have only seen my mother in her present state. It has been raining to-day, as it might have done in England, and there is nothing as yet very un-English in the heat. I must be drawing my journal to a close, as my parcel will go to-morrow. You will see that I have accomplished little in the way of work to send to my friends – pairs of slippers for Charlotte, Ellen Briggs, and Miss Birley, and a purse for Mrs. Cardwell.26 For the dear ones at Seedley I thought I was getting an American toy in Urania’s miroir [sic], but I find it is only copied from an English one.27 My journal, at least, is for you, and with it my best love, and many kisses to the dear little trio. In church on Sunday afternoon, after landing, this verse in the Psalms, occurred: ‘The waves of the sea are mighty and rage horribly; but the Lord who dwelleth on high is mightier.’ I hope I had a thankful heart as I repeated it. Extract from a letter from Anne Langton to William Langton, 27 June 1837 We have had rather a busy week. Our first entrance into the new world has involved us in a somewhat romantic adventure. This morning we have been assisting at a wedding, I as bride’s-maid, my father giving the bride away. My journal will have made you acquainted with Miss Ledger, the most interesting of the fellow-tenants of the ladies cabin. It appeared so desirable that her marriage should take place soon that we rather forwarded it by offering ourselves as her supporters, and we really feel glad to leave her with her husband instead of in so very peculiar and uncomfortable a situation. Mr. Johnson, the hero of the tale, though I 25 Recovered material (EP): ‘From the journal ... three and a half dollars.’ 26 Original notation (EP): ‘Margaret, daughter of Richard Birley of Blackburn, died unmarried, 1844.’ Margaret, one of the sisters of Joseph and Hugh Birley, was an aunt of the younger Richard Birley mentioned in the letter of 1834. Charlotte: possibly Charlotte Briggs, sister of Ellen Briggs (Anne Langton, Story, 48). Mrs Cardwell: the Langtons spent their last few days in England at the Liverpool home of ‘our good friend Mrs. Cardwell’ (ibid., 47). 27 Seedley Terrace, at Seedley, near Manchester, was the home of William and Margaret Langton until 1849.

Letter from Anne Langton, 29 June 1837 127

daresay a very excellent man, and probably an agreeable companion, is not the sort of person you would imagine inducing a lady to take so spirited a step. A great degree of resolution it must have required, which I trust will be rewarded. I have often smiled at finding myself so unexpectedly engaged in acting the part of friend to one whom a month ago I had never seen. But she very naturally clung to her compatriots in a strange land, and we were soon interested for one so curiously situated, and a superior sort of person in herself. Our wedding was quiet, though not quite so much so as I would have arranged it. We had all the formalities of a breakfast, but a small party only to attend. My father, myself, and Captain Nye, who had had the charge of the young lady, being the only attendants at church, and two other gentlemen guests afterwards. The bride insisted on presenting me with a bonnet for the occasion, and therefore I thought it incumbent upon me to have the rest of the costume appropriate. I thought I looked extremely genteel in a lavender pelisse and white crepe bonnet – tout à la parisienne. We must get up a wedding at Peterboro decidedly so that these things may have a second appearance. I reflected on my birthday (June 24th), that those who were thinking of me would little imagine how I was employed, my head full of matrimony, and also my hands and my feet, writing notes, cards, etc., etc., and running up and down New York in search of kid gloves and white satin ribbon. I must have been in twenty shops before I could meet with any decent white satin ribbon, and half that number, I am sure, without finding any at all, neither could they tell me where it could be met with. Yet there were silk and ribbon stores. In some places they said they had had a few pieces from England, but they were gone. A watch ribbon for my father I found it impossible to obtain, though I tried hard. You might put one or two into a corner of the next box. However, there are things to tempt one here too. I made a purchase of a Chinese paint-box containing two saucers of gold, one of silver, a dozen of various colours, besides empty saucers, colour rubbers, etc. – indian ink, and a dozen or two brushes, for all of which I gave three and a half dollars. June 29. Yesterday my father and I dined at Mr. Walker’s, to whom Mr. William Rathbone had introduced us. We had a very pretty drive of ten miles to a very pretty place, looking upon the East River, as they term the water dividing us from Long Island. As we came home at night the fireflies were as beautiful, though not quite so numerous, as I have seen them in Italy. We were entertained likewise by the musical notes of the American frog. We have crossed the ferries of the North and East rivers, and viewed the city

128 Journals and Letters, 1837

from each side of it.28 On the New Jersey side there are some beautiful walks, which run along the side of the river. [...] On Long Island there is a pretty suburb, and a walk skirting the edge of the cliff, from which the bay, no doubt, will look well on a clear day, but for my three country ‘outs’ we have had a hazy atmosphere. Perhaps my sketchbook may begin to be of use soon. We are hoping to be able to start soon on our further journey, but my mother is as yet very little able to bear fatigue. [...]29 Extracts from the journal of Ellen Langton, 3–15 July 1837, sent to William30 I had made a little journal, or rather, diary of my feelings when first embarking on our awful voyage – and when I could employ my pen during it; but when I looked it over it was such a melancholy catalogue of sufferings and sensations produced by sea-sickness that I thought it better torn and destroyed than distressing dear William with a perusal of it – and I wish, now that we are once more on terra firma, to banish what is past from my thoughts, and, if I could, the feelings of my last sight and touch of my first-born, but the stunning sensation can never be forgotten, and my feeling when the ship cleared the Pier-head [at Liverpool] must ever remain as long as memory lasts. It was a call on all my energy and resolution to support an appearance of composure. What a relief would tears have been! But those – never I think moistened my eyes till one day, the sweet sound of Grandmama from dear Alice’s voice seemed to strike my Ear – a sound that I shall never hear again.31 I often found myself thinking That I shall tell William, or This I shall remark to Margaret – and heavy indeed has it fallen when reality told me we should never meet again. We arrived at New York on the 18th of June – 22 days from embarkg. I had flattered myself [that] by proper management I might be relieved from the distressing stupor in my head and binding deafness, but medicine, blisters, 28 Recovered material (EP), ‘We have crossed the ferries ... to bear fatigue ... ’ 29 Philips here proceeds straight to Anne Langton’s letter of 22 August 1837. She does not include any of the extracts from Ellen Langton’s voyage journal, which H.H. Langton interpolates at this point. She supplies an editorial summary instead. H.H. Langton has a shorter editorial note, introducing extracts from Ellen Langton’s journal. Editorial note (BW): The Langtons remained in New York for two weeks when Ellen Langton became ill. These extracts are from her journal, sent to William in England. They give details of the journey from New York to Toronto and later on to Sturgeon Lake. 30 H.H. Langton here inserts extracts from Ellen Langton’s voyage journal. I retain and expand on them. 31 Recovered material (Ellen Langton, hereafter, EL): ‘But those ... never hear again,’ ‘Journal,’ 2. Alice was the eldest of the three daughters of William and Margaret Langton.

Journal of Ellen Langton, 3–15 July 1837 129

etc., failed of success – fever came on and I really thought I should never leave New York. I walked out a little one Evening or two after it became Cool and Dusk, in hopes it might refresh and strengthen me as it was thought all proceeded from being reduced by the voyage32 – the noise in my head at times was most distressing, indeed frightful, & the voices of those speaking about me were [word illegible] rattling and quite indistinct and as if in a distant part of the room – I was often obliged to beg they would not talk.33 In this state I was the cause of a detention in a boarding house of great expense for a fortnight. [...] Being somewhat better for a day or two and it being the opinion of Dr. McNeil that easy travelling and short days journeys would do me good, we decided to proceed forward, which we are all anxious to do, and left our clean and airy rooms at the Mansion House in Broadway on the 3rd of July after staying just a fortnight in New York. [...] Anne and T.L. [Thomas Langton] had the variety of attending as official People [at] a wedding of one of the Lady Passengers, dining once out, receiving some visitors and making some calls – they have seen little of the City – but we were all impressed with the Beauty of the scenery on the Banks of the river as we approached; the Bay too is considered fine, but it did not particularly strike me ... 3rd [July]. Embarked in the Steam Packet which goes to Albany, but we determined to stop short half-way at West Point, a beautiful station, and rest there a day or two, the Packet very full but I remained on deck under an Awning and was not much inconvenienced as I laid down and the Morning not being very hot, we embarked about 9 and breakfasted on board – the Banks are very fine – some striking rocks and palisades, indeed all fine. The river, too (the Hudson), to be admired. The point has beautiful scenery. The Hotel commanding it on all sides, but we were taken aback by hearing we could only have one bedroom, though two had been spoken for the day before. The House quite full, many Military [there], as tomorrow is the Anniversary of American Independence, always observed, and this place is where the Military College is situated. [...] The mountains fine which surround the view of the river. T.L.34 thinks it one of the most lovely spots he has ever seen: it will afford Anne some sketching. [...]35 32 Recovered material (EL): ‘I walked ... increased my fever’ (‘Journal,’ 2–3). 33 Ellen was suffering from persistent headaches (including migraines, which were aggravated by noise) and a hearing impairment. 34 Original notation (HHL): ‘Her husband, Thomas Langton.’ 35 Inspired by this impressive scenery, Anne Langton here began her New World sketching in earnest.

130 Journals and Letters, 1837

4th. Company kept coming in last night, every room and passage full with temporary beds. The morning was fine and I had had a tolerable night. There was a sort of review of the young Military. They then went to Church where there was a Prayer and a Hymn, and then one of the youths mounted the Pulpit and read the Articles of their Independence, loudly applauded – afterwards a sort of oration was made, which our party thought rather long but which elicited the loudest applause. A dinner followed and thus ended the festivities of the day. [...] Many of the youths ... in the Evening were dancing with the young Ladies in the dining room. [...] 5th. I felt better this morning than I have ever done since before my voyage. T.L. and I had a walk about this lovely spot but rain came on which has confined us all the afternoon. My head indifferent in the Evening and my Ears closed again but I hope they will open tomorrow, but I am thankful for this day of improvement.36 We saw the fire-flies this Evening for the first time since Italy, but not very numerous. 6th. Not a good night and my hopes of yesterday somewhat dampened, my head very indifferent, with noise oppressive & deafness very distressing, but anxious to proceed if only a little way. We embarked for Albany in a New York Steam Packet about Eleven. A comfortable Rocking-Chair was placed near the end of the upper deck. I had plenty of air and found it not at all too hot, and by being on the upper deck, [...] I remained perfectly quiet during the 7 or 8 hours of our passage. [...] We found the Eagle [Hotel] at Albany very near where we landed – a most comfortable-looking house, the rooms very spacious, beds with beautiful linen, and after lying down to rest my poor head I enjoyed a Cup of Tea with some fresh strawberries. We had not dined on board, therefore were glad of some refreshment. The Hudson continued fine, the Banks less bold but richly wooded down to the water. Many beautiful elegant-looking villas with openings down to the river shewed their light fronts, which reminded us of Italy. They were all of pure white. The woods were of the freshest Green and appeared not of old growth. We stopped at many towns to take up or set down Passengers – at all a busy shipping appearance. [...][W]e are now at Albany.

36 Recovered material (EL): ‘My head ... improvement’ (‘Journal,’ 8).

Journal of Ellen Langton, 3–15 July 1837 131

7th. Had a sweet comfortable quiet night, perhaps thanks to a blister which I put over my temple [so] that I was up and joined them to breakfast, but not at the public Table, the noise, with that in my head, would confine me. After breakfast I took a walk in the Town, a very considerable one, with handsome set-out Shops on both sides of the principle [sic] Street. The public buildings are handsome, we saw two of marble, one of fine white, the other of a sort of Alfresno, and I believe some others also were of marble – this is the Capital of the State of New York. At the Inn we met with Irish Servants who had been some years in the same house; the waiter was quite a young man but had been there seven years. This gives one some hopes that we may be fitted with some good Irish Girl, but the accounts of the State [of] servants were very bad.37 T.L. decided we should only go for about [words missing]38 on the railway, it would shorten the journey to Utica for tomorrow. [...] [W]e took up our quarters at the railroad Hotel – more horrible accommodations than yesterday, but civility and being tired will make it comfortable.39 [T]he road very uninteresting today – in the Evening we walked to take a view of the Mohawk River on which is the Town – it [the river] appeared broad and with some Islands which Anne thinks would look well in her sketchbook. [...] Now to bed and would hope a good night will enable me to undertake the 6 hours [on the] Rail Road tomorrow. 8th. I had not a bad night but felt scarcely up to 6 hours’ railway travelling, but we set out about half-past nine and were so fortunate as to have the Carriage to ourselves, [so] that I could make a comfortable bed with our own Pillows and no attempt was made during the journey to admit any other Passengers whether it was my Invalidish appearance, or why, we remained undisturbed, we know not, but it was most agreeable to us – the Carriages [...] in outward appearance only, are like the [English] blues, but they are neatly cushioned and very clean, holding no divisions of the seats. [...] The scenery in some parts is magnificent with the interminable Forest which

37 The subject of hiring and keeping help for the farm and the home is a recurring motif throughout these journals and letters, as in other genteel pioneer women’s writing. See, for instance, Moodie, Roughing It in the Bush and O’Brien, The Journals of Mary O’Brien. For extensive discussion of this subject, see Errington, Wives and Mothers, 81–158. 38 Original notation (HHL): ‘Word omitted in the original. They went to Schenectady and spent the night there.’ 39 Recovered material (EL): ‘[W]e took up ... Rail Road tomorrow’ (‘Journal,’ 10–11).

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now becomes visible and reminded us that we are in the New World – the stumps remaining in some of the cleared ground told us what we were to expect at Blythe. They have a sad disfiguring appearance. [...] [A]rrived at Utica about two, and I have borne the six hours better than I expected – the sparks from the engine kept us on the alert, and poor Anne. From her Gingham never having been washed, I suppose it was more tinderish than my sister’s and mine. It was sadly burnt; at times with all our care it was in a flame and the damage almost precludes repairing. It was too warm to keep the windows closed to prevent this annoyance – but we have not suffered inconvenience from the heat – the Thermometer not [being] more than 82. The day was very favourable, a clear Sky but a nice breeze – a number of neat villages on the route. Our Inn Bagges a very good one – went in to dinner for the first time to the Public Table, a very quiet one and not very numerous – we have now generally ices – Strawberries seem the only fruit. We had a walk in the Evening, there were some good streets and numerous good Shops. The Trees are not yet large but there will soon be good Boulevards. We went to look at the Boat which is to convey us tomorrow on the Erie Canal to Syracuse. They are not so large, at least the Cabins, as the Bootle Boats – it felt close and hot but Madame was promised a mattress and the best places.40 We shall be at least 12 hours on the Passage if we go to Syracuse, but we may, if we find it desirable, stop at some of the Towns on the Banks. [...] 9th. I had not a very good night, but no hesitation in breakfasting at 7 a.m. and we were in the Boat at half-past. Very few Passengers appeared – no females. We had the Ladies’ Cabin to ourselves with only the exception of the stewardess, a conceited vain Girl who employed herself chiefly in looking [at] herself in the Glass, arranging her hair (which was certainly very neat in a Jane Cordwell style, only auburn), touching her face with some beautifying thing and removing every little impurity of the skin – at least examining it to detect any. She amused me, but is the most indolent sleepy Being, yet certainly rather a fine-looking Girl. The Scenery is very interesting, being chiefly through magnificent Woods, I might say Forests. 40 H.H. Langton has ‘Booth Boats,’ probably a misreading since it makes no sense as a point of comparison for William and Margaret in England. Ellen Langton, on the other hand, has ‘Bootle Boats,’ which does make sense, as the Langtons lived at Bootle, near Liverpool, for some ten years prior to emigrating. William and Margaret would thus be familiar with these boats.

Journal of Ellen Langton, 3–15 July 1837 133

The morning fine, not a Cloud but still not oppressively hot, there being a fine breeze, but I felt anxious to avoid the few noon hours of this bright sun – a nice clean comfortable dinner about one o’clock, with a great appearance of order in the arrangements, the Captain a modest, well-behaved young man. I felt squeamish all day, but as we had no addition to our Cabin we determined to go on through the night, which would be much [distance] gained; therefore we did not stop at Syracuse where we arrived about nine – and soon after the Cabins began preparing for the Night. The seats opening in our Cabin, with mattresses laid on them, made comfortable beds – we did not undress more than putting on night caps and dressing gowns. We had some Locks to pass which occasioned noise and some disturbance – but I believe we had all some comfortable sleep. Poor Miss C. had a return of the spasm which sometimes distresses her. [...]41 10th. [...] Yesterday was Sunday – it was spent in a little reading but more lounging and looking through the News Papers – to-day will be equally Idle. We have some Books and we read, we regard more the magnificent Forest scenery on the Banks and repose much on our mattresses. [...] We arrived at Rochester about 9, very disagreeable disembarking at night with our various packages; the Eagle a very large Hotel [...] 11th. Breakfasted at the public table at seven; set out on a railway to join the Packet on the Ontarion [?] [for] the distance to Lewiston but as we have the wind against us it will occupy 14 hours. Dined at the Public Table, a large party – the accommodations very good, very superior to English Steamer Packets – sat most of the day on the deck[?] of the ship. [...]We arrived at Lewisham [Lewiston] nearly in the dark and the Hotel was at some distance from the landing. [...] [There were] carts for the luggage but a great bustle for T.L. [...] He remained behind to see it all safe – some anxiety to us and again difficulty in getting our bedrooms fixed – here the Clerk in the Bar had the appointment and he must [have] know[n] how they were to be occupied.42 A Glass of Lemonade and early to bed. I should remark that the town of Rochester is very considerable and with handsome streets, [though] in 1812 it was only a few Houses in the wilderness. 41 Recovered material (EL): ‘Poor Miss C ... distresses her’ (‘Journal,’ 18). ‘Miss C.’ is Ellen’s sister, Alice Currer. 42 Recovered material (EL): ‘carts ... early to bed’ (‘Journal,’ 20–1).

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12th. Breakfasted in my own room, felt somewhat fagged and in no spirits about the falls. I could not bring my mind to anything like eager expectation. I must have lost all my enthusiasm and am become dull and stupid. [We] went [to Niagara Falls] on the railway drawn by Horses – therefore did not get quickly forward – but most of the way was through Wood or with nice cleared Ground in view; there were some fine rocks with the river below us as calm as a Lake, though the falls, to those who could hear, announced our near approach – and the spray was now visible. We stopped at a very large Inn at Niagara, with excellent rooms and fine airy Passages, all handsome and comfortable.43 Dined at 2, and then went to see this magnificent fall of waters. Anne was all eagerness and so natural[ly], wishful to see all, but I was nervous and was not equal to going with her myself, nor could T.L. to those dizzy stations on the bank. It was rather hard on her to have her wishes and curiosity so much checked, but I could not see her go with only a stupid man (not a regular guide) to where a false step would have been destruction, at least it appeared so to me. Some other time she may have someone to take care of her, and have no nervous mother to prevent or check her adventurous spirit. She looked disappointed, but in the Evening we took the falls from a different point, one superior in my opinion, and as we are to cross to the Canadian side tomorrow, I trust she will feel much gratification without crossing Planks! I shall only say that my first impression, I think, was something like disappointment44 – but the magnitude of water and its whole magnificence seems to increase upon you and you feel wonder, awe, and something still more as you contemplate it. I anticipated a roar of waters but the noise was by no means astounding nor any hindrance to conversation. We saw some Indians this Evening for the first time. They had their Blanket coats belted round them – wore hats and were well ornamented – their huts[?] and homes are about 5 miles inland. They are a rich farming set, having land alloted [sic] them which they make productive, have a Church and Clergyman and are a civilized little community. [...]45

43 For Niagara as the nineteenth-century North American tourists’ mecca, see Karen Dubinsky, Greatest Disappointment, 18–50; McKinsey, Niagara Falls, passim; Urry, The Tourist Gaze. 44 Jasen refers to ‘tourist angst’ experienced at Niagara by those who felt their response did not measure up to the expected one of true worship (Wild Things, 32). 45 Ellen is referring to members of the Tuscorora tribe. She apparently approves of the First Nations’ adaptation to white ‘civilizing’ influences. Her reaction contrasts with John Langton’s earlier wry comments (Early Days, 8, 22).

Journal of Ellen Langton, 3–15 July 1837 135

13th. Anne went out before breakfast to sketch – afterwards we crossed to the Canadian side in a rowing Boat. It looked a little perilous from the eddying of the stream but we had passed over in 5 minutes without motion, but wet with the spray. [...] We are at a large Hotel, with little company, immediately opposite the falls. After dinner we had a [word illegible] intending to go and call upon a College acquaintance of John’s [Mr. Sowbridge] who is married & settled in this neighbourhood – found the Lady a great Invalid and lately confined.46 [S]he [was] a Schoolfellow of Margarets [sic]47 & the Langtons, very pretty – but too fragile a Being for Canada and a settlers [sic] Life. Afterwards we went to the Table Rock, a good station for seeing the falls – they are wonderful when you consider the immense body of water constantly falling. I do not consider it any advantage having the falls in full view from the Hotel: the spray too reaches the Balcony, and the noise, though not deafening, is worrying. [...] I think the rapids attract me more than the falls; I could have contemplated them for ever. Mr. Sowbridge called in the Evening, his appearance and manners by no means suited my taste – and gave rather a saddening impression of the effect of a Canadian settler – and that he should have been once an intimate of John’s did not give me satisfaction. The lightening [sic] for some time was very grand immediately over the American side – it seemed sheets of flame but no thunder & the Electric Cloud soon dispersed. 14th. An early breakfast as usual. My Sister has had a disturbed night but was better after breakfast and we had one of the Stages to ourselves to Queenston, where we were to take the Packet for Toronto. Dined there and embarked about 2; had a nice cool sail but nothing interesting, the land so far away, scarcely visible till we came in sight of the City, which appeared flat and agueish. Our road to the Hotel, on a wooden foot-path, with unpaved Streets, gave one at first a poor opinion of the Capital of Canada, and our reception at the Hotel was most uncomfortable, as we were shewn into a little, dirty, unbrushed [unswept?] room, and the lodging-rooms

46 Recovered material (EL): ‘After dinner ... settlers [sic] Life.’ (‘Journal,’ 26). 47 ‘ … of Margarets’: i.e., of Margaret Langton. For details of the Langtons’ visit to the Sowbridges and the latters’ negative impressions of settler life, see Anne Langton, Story of Our Family, 61–2.

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offered us were up some stairs out of the yard.48 We objected to the accommodation and were afterwards promised better rooms when some company had vacated them, which would be in an hour. We were then shewn a very good sitting-room which we might have the use of, and given two very good double-bedded lodging-rooms, perhaps not the cleanest, as in the States, but with which we were well satisfied. I fancy after our luggage arrived we appeared to the House better than at first they supposed us. Our apartments are in a private house adjoining and attached to the Hotel; it faces the Lake, which is immediately across the Street. Our terms as usual, taking our meals in the public rooms – the hours more like English – eight o’clock for breakfast, luncheon at one, and dinner at five. We are allowed Tea in our private room. 15th. From economical matters, we should be glad to get into private Lodgings but could hear of nothing that would afford us any advantage.49 Our rooms are large and airy – to my feelings, of the first importance, as my head is still oppressed and my Ears bound. We took a Carriage as we wished to see a little of the City and call upon one of our fellow-Passengers [Mrs. Bloor] in the Independence. The family have been out twenty-three years and have risen to independence and very comfortable circumstances. They were fortunate in the purchase of a little strip of land about two miles from the Town, on which, after it was cleared, they have built several detached houses, which appear quite in the Country, in a nice quiet-looking lane, with the Forest on one side and the Houses and Garden Plots on the other.50 Their own little Cottage is very pretty; the road is their private property and I can’t fancy a nicer situation, the town being quite shut out. The public Table attendance is quite numerous and a Mr. Scott of the Athol family has his Indian wife with him – a modest timid-looking 48 H.H. Langton has ‘unbenched room ... ’ Ellen Langton’s first impression of Toronto in 1837 is similar in some respects to Anna Jameson’s of 20 December 1836: ‘What Toronto may be in the summer, I cannot tell; they tell me it is a very pretty place. At present, its appearance to me, a stranger, is most strangely mean and melancholy. A little ill-built town on low land, at the bottom of a frozen bay, with one very ugly church, without tower or steeple; some government offices ... in the most tasteless, vulgar style imaginable; three feet of snow all around; and the gray sullen, wintry lake, and the dark gloom of the pine forest bounding the prospect; such Toronto seems to me now’ (Anna Jameson, Winter Studies and Summer Rambles in Canada, 17). 49 Recovered material (EL): ‘[F]rom economical ... Ears bound’ (‘Journal,’ 29–30). 50 The Bloors’ property was located in the area that later became known as Yorkville.

Letter from Thomas Langton, 20 July 1837 137

woman. They have been married only a few months. He has made immense purchases on Lake Huron far back, and is said to have a large fortune. Not having access to a Peerage we are in the mist as to his family; his younger Brother is with him, looking more like an Indian than an Englishman. He is going to England to recover his Patrimony.51 [M]y joining the public Table was of short continuance[?] and for a fortnight I was very Ill again with fever, was obliged to call in medical advice [so that] our residence at Toronto has been one of anxiety and to me of some suffering. T.L. and Anne dined one day at the Government House & we had the Comfort, before I was confined to my Bed and the sofa, of attendg. Church and the Sacrament. I sometimes thought, though now so near John, I should not meet him, but Providence has ordered it otherwise for we had permission [i.e., from the doctor] to proceed on our journey on the 4th of Augst. though [I was] still weak. Letter from Thomas Langton, Toronto, to William Langton, Manchester, dated 20 July 183752 I wrote to you from Niagara last, the moment we got to Manchester (for so the village on the American side of the Falls is called) but before we had made any attempt to get a near view. Neither observation nor description is my forte, and I shall therefore say little about them. The following day, the 14th July, we arrived here, where we are likely to remain some time, for on our arrival, we found a letter from John informing us that from a variety of untoward circumstances he was much more backward with his building than he had reckoned on.53 His letter to New York had told us as much before, though without explaining the causes, which resolve themselves most into the lateness of the season. The elements, as he says, conspired against him. Indeed he must have been, and must still be, a good deal hurried, and his farming business will not have been the gainer by his extra occupations. I have informed him of our arrival, and that we shall

51 Original notation (HHL): ‘The journal then relates how she was ill in Toronto and the party detained there in consequence for more than a fortnight.’ 52 I have placed this letter in chronological sequence. H.H. Langton inserts it at a later point, following Ellen Langton’s final journal entry on 15 August. 53 John had urgently written to his family on 7 May, saying: ‘you must delay your departure from England.’ The letter arrived there eight days after they sailed from Liverpool. John Langton, letter to his father, 7 May 1837, Correspondence, env. 1, JLff, F 1077-1, MU 1690, AO.

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not move until we hear from him again. A Montreal gentleman, formerly a Liverpool man, who had been at the Falls [Fenelon Falls]54 to see Wallis and who had seen John, recognized and spoke to me on Tuesday (the eighteenth). John had not then got my letter. This gentleman thinks we might be accommodated till our house is ready at the Inn at the Falls, but we must wait for John’s opinion.55 Postscript by Anne Langton My father left this for a sketch, and I had certainly intended sending you my presumptuous representation of Niagara, but now I find the post is going off directly and I have barely time to add a few hurried lines. When people talk of being disappointed with the Falls I think they do not rightly understand their own feelings. I was (especially at first) unsatisfied, but it was not with them but with myself. I had a consciousness of the vastness of the scene and at the same time of my own incapacity to conceive it. I felt mortified by my ineffectual striving to grasp the idea in full. It takes some time to form any notion, and a much longer visit, I’m sure, than ours would be requisite to form an adequate conception of its grandeur and magnificence. Fancy what a person’s idea of St. Peter’s [in Rome] would be, who had [only] once been within its doors. So here, as there, you must ramble about and retrace your own steps many times before you can realize any just notion of the scale of magnificence before you. This is the great advantage of going onto the tower or to other situations where perhaps the views themselves may be partial or obscure, but they each and all assist in the expansion of one’s imagination. We were exceedingly pleased with the scenery on the Mohawk river along which the railway runs from Schenectady to Utica. It is mostly mild, with the exception of one very wild and magnificent Pass. Railroad speed is very inconvenient in a fine country. The country through which the Erie Canal winds was to me far from uninteresting though chiefly very flat, but the dense forest and the new clearings, the stumps, the log houses, etc., etc., were all new and associated with all my anticipations for the future. For the first time I felt really like an emigrant making my progress towards the far West. On the banks of this lake as we coasted the American side from Rochester to Lewiston, I almost sickened of the forest; never was anything so tame and uniform as its almost 54 Original notation (HHL): ‘Fenelon Falls, known earlier as Cameron’s Falls.’ 55 ‘the Inn at the Falls’: the inn owned by James Wallis.

Letter from Thomas Langton, 10 August 1837 139

unbroken line. From the heights near Niagara you look over a plain as boundless as the ocean and entirely covered with forest. Here my conceptions of the interminable forest were greatly enlarged. The small portions of the northern shore of [Lake] Ontario which we have seen are a degree more interesting than its southern banks, but I believe our own neighbourhood is a good deal more so. I begin to long greatly to see this future home of ours. Meanwhile we are comfortable enough here, quiet in our own apartment, and getting reconciled to sitting down fifty or sixty every day. The queer people we sometimes see at the public table afford us conversation. We have one English gentleman with an Indian bride. He, we were first told, was the son of a nobleman, but I fancy that is a mistake, though he may be highly connected. Some say he is a son of Lord Henry Murray, but it must be a grandson because the name is not Murray but Scott. His squaw has no beauty to recommend her, and looks, poor thing, very uncomfortable.56 Extract from a letter from Thomas Langton, Toronto, to William Langton, Manchester, 10 August 1837(?)57 I mentioned that John had not been able to make as good progress as he had originally calculated on. He does not, in a letter I have received, detail what the arrangements are which he has made for our accommodation, as we shall soon meet, but he tells me that he had first thought of putting us in the tavern at Fenelon Falls, but at last decided on the present plan (which he does not detail). On the false report that we were arrived at Port Hope, which is within 12 hours of Peterborough, he hastened down to the latter place to meet us, leaving everything at home at sixes and sevens, with 56 Although Langton’s use of ‘squaw’ appears dismissive, it was the customary term at the time for white English-speaking people to use for a Native wife. While Langton’s remarks on the woman’s physical features may appear to be racist, it is important to note that she is equally frank in her judgments of white women. The fact that this marriage is between people of two different races does not go unremarked (by either Ellen or Anne). It is difficult to decide what shocks Anne the most: that it is an interracial union or that the social difference between these two persons is extreme. It seems more likely that Anne’s remark reveals class consciousness, especially since the husband may be a British aristocrat. The fact that Anne can empathize with the young wife’s discomfort in a social setting shows that she is not indifferent to the woman’s feelings. 57 This letter is incorrectly dated by H.H. Langton. It refers to the Langtons’ impending departure from Toronto by steamer for Port Hope, which occurred on 4 August. The letter is placed here in chronological sequence. H.H. Langton inserts it following Thomas Langton’s letter of 20 July, which he places after Ellen Langton’s closing entry (15 August) in her journal.

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Wallis presiding, putting up beds, and reducing things to order. He gives us also some advice as to our journey from here which will I trust be useful to us and enable us to get to Peterborough without much fatigue in about 18 hours, starting from here in the night steamer. [...] Another acquaintance we have made here is a medical man, who has come out for the last four years as the convoy superintendent of the emigrant pauper labourers whom Lord Egremont annually sends out. [...]58 From this gentleman, who seems exceedingly well-informed on all such subjects, I have got a great deal of information as to Canadian farming generally, but little that is very encouraging. He thinks that leaving out of the question the few lucky hits that have been made by shrewd men favoured by temporary fortunate circumstances, and the prizes that have been thrown into the hands of friends of Government, men in power and surveyors, who are paid for their trouble by lands and continue to get picked lots as their remuneration, leaving these out of the question, few or none can maintain themselves by mere farming, but that with a small income in addition to their farm they may live much more comfortably and respectably than they could at home with a larger income. This is meant of the gentleman farmer, but the labourer, who would have had difficulty in England in living without occasional assistance from the overseer, if sober and in good health, never fails to do well [in Canada]. The fortunes that have been made have generally been by men who came without a shilling. I have as yet said nothing of the trust we sometimes talked about. There is a great jarring of opinion here as to the expediency of suspending cash payments by the banks. If they are to continue to pay their notes and all claims in specie they can discount but little for commercial men, and all Sir Francis Head’s popularity, where he was popular, hangs by a thread. He is for paying away, though those who can’t move without discounts are thrown on their backs. In the Bank of Upper Canada the paying system prevails; they can in consequence discount little and from the new joint stock banks, starting just at the same moment, many of their good customers are expected to bolt, and it is thought that they cannot continue to pay the same dividends. They have of late paid ten percent. Mr. Ridout the banker did not talk to me of paying more than eight percent in future. This however would be great interest as the present premium of the shares is not more, I suppose, than three to five percent. The shares are fifty dollars or £12. 10s. 0 currency. If I can meet with seven or eight shares I should be 58 These are the emigrant-labourers of the Petworth (Sussex) scheme mentioned in the Introduction to this edition.

Journal of Ellen Langton, 4–15 August 1837 141

disposed to take them; but in addition to the premium it was the Bank of Upper Canada that offered me an exchange of nine percent, when the Bank of British North America gave me eighteen percent and shares would probably have to be paid from notes of the Bank of Upper Canada or an agio given on others. Not that any of the banks have yet got the authority to suspend, but they wish for it, and the Bank of Upper Canada say they don’t, which they stated as the ground for the poor exchange they offered me. We shall embark on board the steamer on Friday evening about bed-time; at midnight she will put to sea, at six o’clock the following morning she will arrive at Port Hope where, by the friendly assistance of Captain Kingsmill to whom I have written, we expect to find conveyances ready to take us and our luggage on to Rice Lake in proper time to catch a steamer which will bring us to Peterborough before sunset.59 There John is to meet us with a crew of backwoodsmen, but whether he takes us up to Blythe in one or in two days my next must tell. From the journal of Ellen Langton, 4–15 August 1837 August 4. Though I was still weak we embarked about ten o’clock in the Evening in the Steam Packet for Port Hope. No sleep during the whole night; at 6 o’clock we disembarked and went to a disagreeable comfortless Inn for breakfast, and found that we had some hours to wait for the Stages which were to convey us for about nine miles to Rice Lake, but we had a most agreeable specimen of Canadian hospitality from Captain Kingsmill. He sent his Carriage to convey the three Ladies to his own house to await the time of setting out. We were introduced to his Lady, a very nice woman, and we sat down to their family breakfast-table and received all the cheerful kind attention as if they had been old friends. [...] The appearance of the village on the side of a hill, the Houses interspersed among Trees, had a most beautiful and striking effect on the sun’s rising. The fresh and lovely green of the foliage is different from anything I have seen in England, or it may be the clearness of the atmosphere that produces this effect to the Eye. The stage is a kind of waggon with two seats slung across, the backs bound with buffalo-skin – and over good road would not be an unpleasant 59 Original notation (HHL): ‘Probably Captain George Kingsmill, who had emigrated to Canada in 1829. He served as aide-de-camp to Sir Francis Head during the rebellion of 1837 and was High Constable of Toronto until 1846.’

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Journals and Letters, 1837

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24 At Peterboro, 1837. Peterborough at this time was an established settlement of some nine hundred people, yet its stark, primitive aspect is evident in Anne Langton’s rendering.

carriage. Some part of the road was good, other parts very shaking and uneasy, but no corduroy. [T]he distance to the Lake appeared to me very long and I certainly felt my weakness but I was going to see John and that cheered me.60 Captain Kingsmill told us he heard that John was waiting for us at Peterborough. We had two hours to wait for the Steamer, which we tried to make less tedious by botanizing a little. The day was beautiful, not too hot yet bright. At last we saw a ponderous body slowly approaching us – it was certainly the most uncouth Steam Packet we had ever seen – it was the first on these Lakes – its machinery of bad construction, and of slow motion. We dined on board [and had] a comfortable clean dinner with few People. [...] I was glad to get a sort of bed made up on a Table with our Pillows, bags, etc., for I began to be worn out. Whilst [I was] reposing, the approach of a Boat was announced and dear John was soon discovered as 60 Recovered material (EL): ‘[T]he distance ... cheered me for Capt. Kingsmill told us ... ’ (‘Journal,’ 34).

Journal of Ellen Langton, 4–15 August 1837 143

one of the rowers. He was soon on board and looked as much delighted to welcome us as we were to see him. [With] his naked and brawny Arms he scarcely looked like my once fair-skinned son, and his little Mambrino helmet of straw looked like nothing English, but it was John exactly in manner and looks, most happy. It was quite dark before reaching the place of disembarking, and we had then to be rowed up the river about a mile before reaching Peterborough, great alarm I believe felt for me but there were no serious bad effects. I was glad to go to bed, though with no very good prospects of a comfortable night: the room very small, never intended for family accommodation, three beds were all we could procure. 6th. Up in good time to meet John at breakfast: he and the young men who had come with him to row us were at another house – poor Anne not well, a sad drawback.61 In the course of the day we were introduced to the young men, and some Ladies, John’s acquaintances, called, I dare say all anxious to see what sort of People we were! [There are] some beautiful spots about Peterborough – a fine river, the Otonabee, with several small Islands well wooded, which will retain their Trees and render it very ornamental. The houses are numerous but yet seem to form no streets and seem surrounded by the Forest and the town has so different an appearance to anything we have been accustomed to that we cannot forget we are in Canada. The Church stands on rising ground in the midst of Trees. [...]62 About it and that part of the Town there are some sweet little openings. Anne in bed – but I was induced to take a walk in the Evening to see some of the beauties: tired myself too much. We had several of the young men to Tea, who, I fear, will be disappointed of their labours to-morrow, and John of bringing us up Sturgeon Lake in state, for Anne is very feverish this Evening.

61 Anne later recorded her impression on first viewing Peterborough: ‘It was quite dark when we reached Peterborough. I well remember my impressions on the first look out in the morning. How wild! A waste wilderness of wood, – not so much the growing woods which were not far off, but the precious article seemed thrown about everywhere. There were sticks and logs in every square yard of the little plain before us, to say nothing of stumps; it was the first bit of genuine “backwoods” I had seen. I have seen a good deal of them since, but that first impression is indelible’ (Anne Langton, Story, 64). 62 St John’s Anglican Church.

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7th. We called in medical advice this morning. A very plain village-looking Doctor attended, who gives us hopes it will pass off in a day or two, but recommends bed for today.63 The young men are all returning to their farms, and there is now such uncertainty of our motions that we shall engage our own Boat, and John will receive us when we arrive. It is certainly a disappointment to us all, for Anne says John would have looked so proud and happy thus taking up his family. It is well to receive these checks sometimes.64 We dine at the public Table, with a small party of men, or perhaps Gentlemen, living in Peterborough.65 We had again some friends of John’s to call, one Lady who was a Miss Hamilton, somewhat interesting to us.66 [...] All the Ladies seem to have a self-possessed manner as if accustomed to company. I walked so much yesterday that I am not well today and having had an anxious night about Anne perhaps increased my uncomfortable feelings nearly all day. I was never out, but there is no rest for the back on these wooden-bottomed Chairs nor on the hard beds, all primitive. If one were quite well one might enjoy the variety. 8th. Anne is much better: a hot uncomfortable day with frequent showers. I went up the town with T.L. to our Doctors [sic], did not however reach the house, went in to rest at one of these merchants’ stores where everything appears for sale, but I fancy very dear. Rain very heavy came on with a little Thunder: the Evening very hot and close. [...]

63 The doctor was almost certainly Dr John Hutchison. His practice and residence, Hutchison House, has been preserved as a museum on medical care at that time. 64 This attitude is characteristic of the Langton family. Indeed, they viewed trials and disappointments as tests of their faith in God’s providence. Vickery writes of the ‘fortitude and resignation’ that characterized ‘the Anglican vernacular’ of this period. Those suffering misfortune ‘invoked God’s providence as the arch determinant of life’s joys and afflictions … to which it was wise to be reconciled’ (Gentleman’s Daughter, 90). 65 ‘men’/‘Gentlemen’: Ellen is vigilant regarding distinctions of social class. 66 Original notation (HHL): ‘Major Hamilton, the father of this lady, had served in Egypt and elsewhere and on his retirement received a grant of land in Canada. He came to Peterborough in 1833 and purchased a grist mill and a saw mill by the Otonabee river. He had three sons and seven daughters and John Langton had become an intimate with the family. This friendship between the family and the Langtons was maintained over many years.’

Journal of Ellen Langton, 4–15 August 1837 145

9th. It is a solace that we now the less regret not being up on Sturgeon Lake, as we should not have seen it to advantage on our first arrival. 10th. The weather is still so unsettled that we think it better to defer going, and now we cannot have the Boat till Monday. 11th. Had more callers. Mr McDonald, the Member [of the Legislative Assembly] for the district, and Major Sharp and his Lady [...]67 13th. We are watching with anxiety the weather and we are told this morning that it promises better; the party went to Church. T.L. and Anne went to make calls. We had the Stewarts to call, who were, I believe, some of the first settlers in this part. Mrs. S. a cousin of Miss Edgeworth’s (perhaps not) is a remarkably nice woman, and her spirit and perseverance were the principle [sic] means of overcoming all difficulties.68 They have a family of ten children. Hamilton Dundas came to Tea, a nice youth from Scotland coming out to settle, and recommended to Dennistoun, who is a neighbour of John’s.69 He interests me and I feel a sort of pity for him. Whilst we were

67 Original notation (HHL): ‘This was Major Sharp, another retired military man who had settled in Peterborough. He is not mentioned again in these letters.’ 68 Original notation (HHL): ‘Frances Stewart, wife of Thomas Alexander Stewart, emigrated to Canada in 1822. Extracts from her letters and journals were published after her death in 1872 under the title Our Forest Home.’ Maria Edgeworth (1767–1849) was an Irish essayist and novelist. She and her father, Thomas Edgeworth, well-known for their views on education, strongly encouraged the education of girls. Frances Stewart was adopted by a greatuncle, Robert Waller, one of whose nieces, Harriet Beaufort, was her mentor. One of Harriet’s sisters married Thomas Edgeworth. At ten years of age, Frances spent eight months living with ‘this remarkable and accomplished family’ where her daily lessons included Mr Edgeworth’s calling [the children] out to ‘judge of all he and daughter Maria were writing.’ See E.S. Dunlop, in her edition of her mother’s letters, Our Forest Home, Appendix 2, vii. Frances’s ‘loving intercourse’ with Harriet and Maria extended ‘through life’ (Our Forest Home, 2). 69 Original notation (HHL): ‘Robert Dennistoun had taken up land on Cameron Lake a few years before. In 1839 he married one of Major Hamilton’s daughters, as will be related later in these letters. He subsequently abandoned the Lakes, studied law, and became County Judge for the County of Peterborough.’

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sitting after Tea, our dear John entered, who has come with Need and Atthill to take us up tomorrow, a most agreeable plan for us70 – I have dreaded the six miles on the waggon over hard roads as my head is very painful in moving about. It was decided I was not to attempt the waggon, but have Mrs Fortye’s Pony which was kindly offered.71 14th. A promising morning, set off before Eleven, I on Horseback attended by Dundas. We unfortunately lost our way, which considerably lengthened the ride. John with the rest joined, and we proceeded to the Boat stationed ready for us on Mud Lake. We were rowed by the three Gentlemen and an assistant after the wind left us, and T.L. steered. I had a most comfortable bed made with Pillows in the Bow of the Boat, thanks to dear John’s care of me, so that I proceeded without fatigue. Some parts of the Banks were rather pretty though generally flat. In about four hours we stopped at an Indian Station to eat our Provisions: we had passed a considerable Indian village not long before72 – here was only one Wigwam, and the Inmates were all round a fire very much like our Gipsy’s [sic] [in England] with an awning of mats put up apparently for the old Grandfather and the Hounds. One woman was making a Basket, the only one employed, the rest reclining on the grass.73 T.L. offered the Old Man some wine but he could not be induced to take it, nor his Squaw nor the younger females. The remains of our Provisions were received with pleasure. They seemed known to the young men, particularly to Need, who gave the old man an excellent character. We re70 Original notation (HHL): ‘Thomas Need emigrated in 1832 and settled near the site of Bobcaygeon in 1833. After ten years, he returned to England and died there some time after 1870. While still living in Canada he published his experiences under the title Six Years in the Bush.’ John Langton had been given a letter of introduction to Need before leaving England (ED, fn. 8) On Atthill, Hugh Hornby Langton has the following notation: ‘Richard Atthill was settled at the lower end of Sturgeon Lake. He subsequently gave up his farm and became a clergyman.’ 71 Original notation (HHL): ‘Mrs. Fortye was a daughter of Major Hamilton whose husband managed the brewery and distillery in the ownership of which he was a partner of Major Hamilton.’ 72 Most likely the same Indian village on Chemong (Mud) Lake where John had first encountered a Native group. 73 There is a note of condescension in Ellen’s account: the reference to gypsies would have been intended as dismissive, as would noting that only one member of the group is ‘employed’ – unlike the industrious Tuscorora band in New York State (see entry for 12 July above).

Journal of Ellen Langton, 4–15 August 1837 147

embarked, and in something more than two hours arrived at Bob Cajwin [Bobcaygeon]. The river before we reached it is very pretty, with more rock than we have seen before, and some rapids. A small log-House took in our luggage, and where the young men ordered dinner I was to Sleep. We had to walk more than half a mile over a wretched unmade road quite in the wood to our sleeping-place; a nice clean log-house with a nice clean Hostess. We had a comfortable Cup of Tea and our beds look clean so that I shall be glad to lie down, but I do not feel worse for my day’s journey, and highly gratified by John’s affectionate care and kindness for his Mother. 15th. The Morning was wet and very unfavourable-looking, we were told that a fresh party of young men had arrived in the night and brought John’s Boat, the ‘Alice,’ and Wallis with his.74 They had proceeded to the other Tavern, but arrived soon after breakfast and we were introduced to Wallis, Dennistoun, Hamilton and Savage.75 The colours on the Boats looked gay and cheering and it soon began to clear and the Sun to shine and we embarked. John placed the Ladies on his Boat and he and Hamilton rowed, Dundas steering. The Scenery was flat, at Sturgeon Point interesting, where a Collation had been prepared for us on the day we were first expected. The Lake has little beauty or picturesque Scenery, the Banks are flat with no clearings on the left – a line of forest, but as we approached Blythe there were a few pretty inequalities in the Banks, and about 6 o’clock we were rowed to the Landing-place under a bright Sun. Whilst [we were] disembarking, the Gents all seemed to disappear so that we found ourselves alone, and John led me up a most rugged path, seemingly very happy and proud to welcome his Parents to his little habitation in the BackWood. All certainly looked wild, but his little Cottage was made comfortable for our reception and promises snugness, but with primitive simplicity, where we may be very comfortable till our own house is ready to receive us. It [Blythe farmhouse] is rather a pretty-looking Cottage higher up from the Lake. It looks naked, all the wood being cleared; but when a few plantations are made to orna74 Original notation (HHL): ‘James Wallis became a life-long friend of the family. He came to Canada in 1832, but entered first into the mercantile business in Montreal. After a visit to Fenelon Falls, he entered into a partnership with Jameson and they built a saw-mill at the Falls. He also purchased land in the township. Wallis had a home at Fenelon Falls but after 1840 he moved to Peterborough. The mill continued to operate until 1858 when it was destroyed by fire.’ 75 Original notation (HHL): ‘Gavin Hamilton, Major Hamilton’s eldest son.’ For Savage, see Anne Langton’s letter of 22 August 1837.

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ment it, it will look very pretty. A happy comfortable Tea postponed further examination of our new situation for this Evening. If God in his Mercy grants us health we may be happy, free from many cares in this quiet retreat and may we profit by it, waiting the next change with humble hopes of its being a blessed one. I have brought this little journal to an end and here close it. Extract from a letter from Anne Langton to Mrs William Langton, 22 August 1837 During the week we remained here [at Peterborough] the good people of the neighbourhood came dropping in upon us all the time, and others of them would have done so, but either thought we were gone before, or supposed we were staying longer, so that some of John’s friends and acquaintances still remain to be made known to us. At length, on Monday 14th, we set out for Blythe, John having arrived on the Sunday evening, accompanied by Need and Atthill, to convey us to our home. The party was increased by a Mr. Dundas, a young Scotchman coming out to make a trial of the backwoods, and spend a couple of years with Dennistoun, whose cousin he is. We had made his acquaintance at Peterboro. The six miles to Mud Lake were performed in Mr. Shaw’s ‘carriage,’ which is a wagon, having the reputation of a little spring in the benches, but how it gained it I cannot make out. My mother was mounted on a horse contributed by Mr. Fortye for our convenience, and well it was, for her head would never have stood the jolting of our vehicle. [...] [We] embarked with a fair wind on Mud Lake, to make the most of which a blanket and sheet were hoisted as sails. Do not suppose, however, that the Alice had such homely accoutrements.76 We proceeded prosperously on our voyage, landing at Billy M’Que’s to refresh our crew, and give time for a storm to blow over. His Indian family were all squatted on the ground, in and about a little bark hut they live in in summer in preference to their house, doing absolutely nothing, with the exception of one old squaw who was weaving a basket. In this state of complete idleness I believe they are always to be found. After contemplating this scene of laziness (I was going to say wretchedness, but they looked happy), for about an hour, and emptying the contents of our prog-basket, we re-embarked and entered Bobcaygeon River just as 76 Original notation (EP; reproduced in HHL): ‘The Alice was a large boat with a sail, a gift from William to his brother and brought up from Kingston. It was named after William Langton’s eldest daughter.’

Letter from Anne Langton, 22 August 1837 149

the evening closed in.77 I very much admired the scene, the wood on either side is very beautiful. We landed at the foot of the rapids, and walked about half a mile to our night’s quarters, where we were very comfortably accommodated, though in a still more primitive way than at Peterboro. This was at what was Mr. Sawers’ house, which is now a tavern. The young men all took up their quarters at the old town at the foot of the rapids. About midnight there was a rapping, and an enquiry made whether we had arrived. Another party of backwoodsmen had come down to take us up our own lake. The following morning was most unpromising, and we feared we were to have a complete wet day; but it cleared up about twelve, and about two o’clock we set out on our boat voyage, the ladies in the Alice, accompanied by John, Mr. Hamilton, and Mr. Dundas, my father in the Calypso, a smaller boat belonging to Mr. Wallis, he, Dennistoun, and Savage, being my father’s companions. About six o’clock the two boats reached the little landing-place at Blythe, and we beheld our home. Our rowers all disappeared without waiting to receive our thanks, though I am sure they deserved them. Three times had some of them been down to Peterboro, some to Bobcaygeon, to meet us. [...] At last, however, after all delays and disappointments, our long journey is accomplished. John looked very proud when he handed his mother into his little mansion. His arrangements for our accommodation are very snug. Wallis has contributed a bed, and some carpets. My mother and I sleep in the larger bedroom behind, Aunt Alice in the small one John used to occupy at first. My father has the hammock put up every night in the sitting-room, and John himself has a tiny apartment curtained off by a sail from the ante-room. Here we expect to make ourselves comfortable for perhaps a couple of months, or maybe more, if as many unexpected delays occur as have occurred in the preparations at ‘the big house,’ as our future habitation is elegantly denominated. But I suspect we shall summon the plasterer from ‘the big house’ to stop up sundry chinks here which let in daylight now, and would admit quite too much of the winter blast for such delicate inmates as we are. And now you will ask what I think of the spot that has been so much talked of, and thought of amongst us. Upon the whole very much what I expected to think of it. The picture my mind had formed of the Lake is really very correct; that of Blythe was so much more particular in all its details that it could not be quite so exact. What most

77 Original notation (HHL): ‘The spelling [of Bobcaygeon] varies in these letters according to the various attempts to reproduce the Indian name, but in this book the name will be uniformly spelt as above.’

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strikes me is a greater degree of roughness in the farming, buildings, gardens, fences, and especially roads, than I had expected. But when one looks at the wild woods around, and thinks that from such a wilderness the present state of things has been brought [ab]out by a few hands, and how much there is for those few hands to be constantly doing, one’s surprise vanishes, and one rather wonders that so much has been done, than that so much remains to be done. This is certainly a country where the virtue of patience will not languish for want of exercise. All around one sees such a multiplicity of things that should be done, and the ways and means to accomplish them so few and small. One can scarcely realise the difficulty there is in making away with the wood that encumbers the ground, except when a good burning is practicable, until one sees it lying. The stumps must give every place a rubbishy appearance, and the spreading roots prevent anything like a smooth pathway. Besides which, stones are very abundant and a great obstacle to a neat garden. As a few years might make me forget the chief differences between here and England, I will tell you now, in case any of our friends should come out, that the paths and roads require that the supply of strong shoes should be good. Even in fine summer weather the forest will be wet, and you can never reckon upon going any distance without encountering some spot where the water has been dammed up by some wood obstruction. Most probably some more strong shoes will be my first commission [to be sent out]. The opening to the lake is at present small, and we can only see from the house a small straight piece of the opposite bank, but this winter’s chopping is to bring to view a pretty piece of land on our own side, and if the opening does not become too great there will be a decided improvement in the picturesque. Our house is a good deal above this, about a couple of hundred yards off. When you reach the summit of the hill, a short way behind, you look down into the main part of the clearing, and a pretty little valley it is. I have made no sketch of the place yet, but shall be on the lookout for a good point for one. At present I have been well occupied in looking about me within and without, penetrating the forest to the beaver meadow, or diving into the depths of the storeroom, where the traces of womankind may now be seen amongst the possessions of the bachelor. Occasionally I give half an hour to the garden, where at present the weeds are more abundant than the plants; but we are to blame in some measure for this, having come out from England earlier than advised by John, and the bustle of preparation for our house having thrown some minor matters behindhand. But I must resume the narrative of our proceedings. Our first day was spent

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in looking about John’s premises, and making ourselves at home. On Thursday we went by invitation to see Fenelon Falls and dine with Mr. Wallis. My mother and Aunt Alice were neither of them well, and stayed to nurse each other. Mr. Savage, who is a recent addition to the community, and not I suppose certainly a permanent one, came to help John row us up. The sail is pretty, the river as you approach the Falls very pretty. The Falls themselves would be well represented by the sketch of the Canadian Fall at Niagara, except that the mill and its works would bear a very different proportion to the water to what any buildings about Niagara do, and, if coloured, the beautiful emerald green in the one must be a somewhat yellow line in the other. We walked about, and visited the new house of our entertainer, which is rather further advanced than our own.78 Its situation is extremely pretty, on a little plain, thinly scattered with trees, affording a natural lawn, and with very little trouble it will be quite a very pretty place. It is almost made to his hand. At dinner we had Captain Dobbs and Mr. M’Laren.79 The latter, whose name will be new to you, fills a secondary situation in the increasing establishment at the Falls, superintending the commercial department there.80 After dinner I made a slight sketch of the church while the gentlemen took their second glasses of wine, and we then re-entered the Alice to return home. On our way we just missed the novel adventure of bringing down a buck in the water. We saw two swimming across the lake, and followed both. The first, however, only with a view of seeing him land, but of the second we had a good chase, and were within three or four yards of him when he gained his feet. Had we perceived him a few seconds earlier we should have had success in the chase,

78 If the natural landscape leaves something to be desired, aesthetically speaking, Anne finds the judicious placing of Wallis’s home within its setting highly successful. She later sketched a view of it, Maryboro Lodge, for his sister, Caroline. The house, named for his former home in Ireland, is now the home of the Fenelon Falls Museum. 79 Original notation (HHL): ‘Captain Dobbs is only occasionally referred to in a letter to Thomas Langton dated January 9, 1834 (Early Days, p. 51f et seq). John Langton enumerates his neighbours on Sturgeon and Cameron Lakes and describes Captain Dobbs as follows: “An agreeable gentlemanly, elderly man of whom I know nothing more than that he is reported to be an excellent chess player, and, what is of more importance, the father of six daughters.” He seems to have occupied Jameson’s house in his absence, and when the latter returned at the end of April, 1839, was dispossessed and left the neighbourhood.’ 80 Original notation (HHL): ‘Mr. McLaren was Mr. Wallis’s partner and deputy in the management of the mills at Fenelon Falls. He was commonly known as the “Major,” but had no military rank.’ H.H. Langton has ‘McLaren’ throughout his version. I use Philips’s ‘M’Laren’ for the present text as it is arguably closer to Anne Langton’s version.

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and I should have taken some of the credit to myself, being on both occasions the one to perceive the branching horns of the game. It was about dark when we landed here. On Saturday John left us to go to Windsor and give instructions about the sending up of our packages.81 I believe they are all arrived here in apparently good condition. The short journey they have still to perform presents more difficulties than all the rest, so we may yet have occasion for the philosophy we prepared ourselves with when we committed our property to the perils of so long a journey. We find also some difficulty in getting up a few things we were obliged to leave at Peterboro, the carrier who comes to Bobcaygeon three times a week promising to bring them up the next day, and they have not yet appeared. Where there is no competition people consult their own leisure and pleasure, and for these everybody must wait. On Sunday we received some visits from the neighbours, first Mr. Haig, the occupier of M’Andrew’s farm, and afterwards Mrs. Hamilton and her daughter, escorted by Wallis and Dennistoun.82 Maxwell [Hamilton] is not nearly so pretty as I expected, I should not call her at all more than nice looking. Perhaps if one were to see her animated, she might improve on one, but she certainly did not appear to me at all dangerous.83 They have been on Cameron’s Lake about a month, and though returning to Peterboro for a time, will be again established here before winter. [...] It was beautiful, and we had been dining as usual in the tent on Monday,84 when, a short time after we had quitted it, a sudden gust of wind tore it to

81 ‘Windsor’: original notation (HHL): ‘The old name of Whitby.’ 82 Recovered material (EP): ‘On Sunday ... before winter [ ... ]’ As with ‘M’Laren,’ Philips has M’Andrew throughout her edition, and I retain her spelling. Alexander McAndrew, an early settler on Sturgeon Lake, with whom John Langton formed a firm friendship, left Upper Canada in 1835 and went into business in Liverpool with his younger brother. He re-emigrated in 1847, this time to the United States, where he prospered in business in New York, with an estate on Staten Island. He retired to England in 1876 (Early Days, 154). Original notation (EP): ‘The Hamiltons (frequently mentioned) were among my uncle’s first friends in Canada. Major Hamilton had bought land on Cameron’s Lake, and had also a mill in Peterboro. He died in Peterboro in 1836, and his widow joined her son Gawin [Gavin] on Cameron’s Lake. Other sons came out later, and the friendship was maintained. Of the daughters, one was married to Mr. Fortye; another, Maxwell, married Mr. Dennistoun, and Maggie, many years younger than the rest of the family, was a great favourite at Blythe as a little girl. She had a sad married life afterwards.’ 83 Raised in a stratum of society where a woman’s looks were of paramount importance in determining her destiny, Langton is well aware that ladies are to be viewed, and encouraged to act, as potential rivals. On this subject, see Blodgett, Centuries of Female Days, 120. 84 ‘the tent’: the ‘marquee’ that the Langtons were using as a substitute for a dining room.

Letter from Anne Langton, September 1837 153

the ground in a minute, and levelled some of the fences. It subsided again directly, but a little thunder and lightning and torrents of rain ensued, and for the last two days we have been enjoying a good fire.85 If the storm has laid the mosquitoes and other insect plagues we shall rejoice, for we were annoyed by them. It is comforting to perceive that the residents of a longer standing suffer less, and when the land is pretty well cleared they apparently disappear. There were none at Peterboro, or at least very few. When the black fly makes its attacks you are kept on a perpetual smart all over the exposed parts, but I do not think they bite through thick leather as the mosquitoes do, neither are the effects quite so permanent. ... I must tell you that ‘Fury’ has been brought to endure the presence of a cat.86 She peeps with great interest into the basket where John’s cat is just nursing a kitten. Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, Blythe, to Mrs W. Langton, September 1837 I am not a backwoodswoman yet in this, that I cannot feel easy when near the end of my stores. John thought my anxiety very laboured when I saw the bottom of my candle box. Here they have been so accustomed at times to be without things, that they take matters over and above easily. There is a very good store at the Falls, that is as good or better than any in Peterboro, but the difficulty of getting up goods makes the supply uncertain, and you are not to be surprised when told that the tea and rice are still on Lake Ontario, and that there are only three candles left.87 What should you think of a few pounds of tea coming at the bottom of a sack (without paper) and a few rusty nails at the other end of it? When I mention any of these primitive ways of doing things it is with the desire of making you more exactly conceive the precise style of civilization to which we have attained, not at all in the spirit of a grumbler, indeed it would be absurd to make grievances of such things, and after fastening your window with a string round a nail, or shading it with a boat flag for a month, you are very apt to forget that there is any other sort of hasp or blind. As I have not seen the interior of any backwoods establishment save this (for Wallis’s being the tavern is not a specimen) I cannot give you much information. When we made our calls at 85 Recovered material (EP): ‘It subsided ... a good fire.’ 86 Recovered material (EP): ‘I must tell you ... a kitten.’ Anne Langton includes anecdotes about the family pets in her letters and journals for her nieces’ interest and amusement. 87 Original notation (EP): ‘Mr. Jamieson owned the “Falls” at this time, and had a “store” there.’

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Peterboro we were, with one exception, not received where the family were sitting. Painted wooden chairs are the most frequent, rush-bottomed ones being in the more elegant drawing-rooms. A papered room, save in the Government House, I have not seen since we entered the province. At the inn at Peterboro a looking-glass about the size of my hand, making my face as round as [little] Alice’s, used to depart from me every day, for the use of some other person, and then to re-appear. We used always to take our chairs with us to the dining-room. At our tea-table at Toronto, a larger sized teapot acted the part of urn or kettle. Not a drawer or cupboard is to be seen at any of the inns. To set against this, when we dined at the Falls at Wallis’s and I was shown upstairs to take off my bonnet, the toilet was neatly covered with white linen, and a little jug of warm water brought me with as much tidiness as in any house in England. As for provisions, bread, potatoes, and pork, with the produce of the dairy, are the unfailing ones, but they have been varied here by beef, venison, pigeon pies, and vegetables, of which there are, or may be, plenty in their seasons. There is very little in the way of fruit. John has some gooseberry and currant trees planted in his garden. These grow wild in the woods, and of the wild raspberry there is such plenty that they are sold at a shilling a pailful, gathered, I fancy, by the Indians. We were too late for these, and the cranberries, which are likewise plentiful, are not come in. At Toronto there was a miserable display of fruit in the market, and at the Government House, where there was every other luxury and elegance, one dish of the most wretched strawberries was the only fresh fruit they could give us in the middle of July. Letter from Ellen Langton to William Langton, dated 28 October 183788 In our last despatch you had not one line from your mother, for the packet was unexpectedly called for and therefore, I being last on the writing list, it was obliged to go without my portion. I now mean to be the first in our monthly communication, for the former went by Mr. Need and if he was delayed in New York you will probably receive this before he presents himself with his budget of letters for you to distribute. He is in our opinion one of the most agreeable of the young men, though his appearance is less prepossessing than that of some of the others. He seems to be becoming a favourite even with the former grudgers.

88 Philips omits the letters of 28 October (including Thomas Langton’s postscript of 29 October) and 8 November 1837.

Letter from Ellen Langton, 28 October 1837 155

We are still John’s inmates in his shanty, for the kitchen is not yet finished off in a state to be used. Our furniture has now all arrived except the sofa and two other packages, one a chest of drawers, and the other a case of wine.89 The latter perhaps they keep back to partake thereof, for a box containing a dozen bottles of Geneva [gin] has been considerably robbed, two whole bottles taken and two or three half-emptied. Some wine has likewise been equally ill-treated. Our beds, about which I felt the most anxious, have arrived in really good condition considering the three trips John made in the scow to bring up the things from the Scugog River in most unfavourable weather. They were hard tugs for the rowers, and the packages were out likewise for the greatest part of the nights, but all appear, so far as they have been unpacked, in very fair condition and have suffered little damage. [...] The chairs have escaped wonderfully. There is some little jingling in the box of glass, which makes me afraid that I cannot replace the egg-cups on John’s table which now appear in place of tea-cups when there is an addition to the party. The bed-steads are now up in the rooms appropriated to their intended destination. Our room is lined throughout with wood, and has a most comfortable appearance. Over the joining of the boards there is a moulding which is a pretty finish. Anne’s room and my sister’s will be hung with the material brought from Manchester, as well as the drawing-room. The dining-room, halls and staircase are to remain in their log state this winter, which does not give you the same naked cold, comfortless appearance as our plastered walls in England. These rooms are later to be lined with butternut which resembles walnut and grows here. The entrance and staircase are pretty, in a small way. Indeed there is nothing to wish different in the habitation except it be that the rooms had been higher and the third lodging-room somewhat larger. The yard and outhouses are not yet quite planned, and of course no preparation made for them this winter. No one can have any idea of the difficulty of getting anything done in the backwoods but those who have witnessed it. We may have thought John dilatory, but now we are surprised that he got anything done, workmen being so scarce and some of the work attended with great difficulty and requiring much labour, for instance the chimneys, and walling the well with stones, which were brought from the bottom of the lake, and then drawn up a steep and rugged rise, very hard work for both men and the poor animals. John has glazed the windows himself with the assistance of a 89 Compared with most emigrants, the Langtons brought out an impressive array of furniture and provisioned themselves well with potentially useful articles, as well as some luxuries.

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day’s work from one of his friends. No glazier is living in these parts, and for some time the contracting carpenter was the only man at work in the house, very slow work you must suppose. But in another week we hope to be set by our own fireside and busy making our little arrangements. Anne and John have been the only busy people in the cottage for the last week, the old ones remaining quiet, airing beds, etc. We have had a little smart frost and a covering of snow but it is now all gone, that is the snow, but the frost is coming again as it is now five degrees below the freezing point. We have had some beautiful weather, like the most beautiful of our days [in England] in April, perhaps something warmer. We have had one loss which made us look very serious at first, but we now find it will be of slight or indeed of no consequence. It was a loss of blankets, which must have been abstracted at Manchester from a wardrobe; the shelf containing, (from our memorandum) several pairs was found empty, but sufficient remain in other drawers for every covering we shall want, and likewise for our servants, when we get them, and we find that they now have blankets in the stores at Peterborough where John is going next week. Therefore do not fear that we shall suffer any want. Mr. Wallis opened his new house a fortnight ago, and Mrs. Hamilton having some lady visitors from Peterborough, John had the treat of some waltzing. (Anne declined joining the party.)90 The morning following, the ladies came to call on us, attended by several of the young men in their blanket hunting coats with scarlet sashes and various furry caps. As they came up the path from the lake they made a gay and very interesting appearance, and likewise when they took their canoe to return. There are several very nice-looking young men, and perhaps you may be surprised when I say that John is about the handsomest of the set. He is well bronzed, has got fine dark whiskers, and with his curling hair, sensible and animated countenance he will pass for good-looking anywhere, besides in the eye of his mother. Wallis has been uncommonly kind in assisting John with a bed and little articles for our accommodation which his shanty did not afford. One was a carpet which is something the worse for our use of it, therefore we wish to give him the drugget we brought out for our drawing-room, as the Turkey carpet is the one we shall use this winter along with our old ones. Therefore by the first spring ship we shall want a little package sent out. But time enough for commissions when we find how the winter agrees with us, about

90 For Anne’s version of why she did not attend, see her letter of 8 November 1837.

Letter from Ellen Langton, 28 October 1837 157

which I stand in no little awe for some of the party. Could I maintain my present activity in moving about I should have no fears for myself in keeping up a tolerable degree of circulation and warmth with the aid of an effort of will. Our furs are all quite safe and in perfect preservation. They will soon be put in requisition, at least the hoods and boots. Our black velvet was a bad speculation, for the wood-ashes being white and very light we shall always look dusty, but n’importe. God bless you all. Thomas Langton continues the letter October 29. Your mother seems hardly aware of the intensity of the frost, which this morning at half-past six o’clock was 21° out of doors, at seven it was 25° in Aunt Alice’s room, who, notwithstanding she was an invalid, did not seem to have been inconvenienced by the cold. We have several times this month had a thermometer four or five degrees below the freezing point. On the 25th we had the first snow, which continued on the ground during the 26th, though it rained all day but froze as the rain reached the ground. To-day, notwithstanding the severity of the cold in the night and by day in the shade, the afternoon has been so delightful that Anne and I have taken a long walk in the clearing and in the woods. One cannot get over the ground so quickly as at Bryn Ganno and about Seedley,91 for one has to climb over fences and fallen trees, through closely grown underbrush, and, with a good deal of contrivance, to make good the crossing of creeks, which the late rains had swelled more than we had expected, but our walk has been very pleasant. Your mother anticipates getting into the house in a week. I will give her two, and shall be glad to find us housed in that time. We have still some important outstanding inconveniences which will take John down again to Peterborough early in the week, and we have not yet engaged any servants though we have been making inquiries for some time. [...] As to my complaints – ? I was not aware of any alteration in my looks – my spirits may not have been very good when in pain, but I have said little about it. The symptoms I consider no longer equivocal, and their rapid increase during the last month or two may well make one serious.92

91 Bryn Ganno, North Wales. Anne Langton sketched several views near Bryn Ganno on visits there in the 1830s. 92 Original notation (HHL): ‘He died six months later.’

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We hope soon for better communications with the civilized world. After the New Year, Fenelon Falls will be a post-office town and henceforth your letters must be directed for us ‘Blythe, near Fenelon Falls, Upper Canada.’ The lock at Bobcaygeon is also nearly completed, and there was a public meeting at Peterborough about a month ago for a steam-boat which was to ply between the Mud Lake, Pigeon Lake, Sturgeon Lake, the Scugog river (upon which a lock is also constructing) and Scugog Lake. At some not distant time the navigation is expected to be carried beyond Fenelon Falls (where three locks will be required) through Cameron Lake and Balsam Lake to Lake Simcoe, and from thence to the northern part of Huron Lake and Lake Michigan. This looks rather like castle-building, but there is no doubt of the practicability of the thing, and when the works on the Trent River are completed, comparatively little will remain to be done; and then, say the Peterborough people, we shall be an important commercial town. The expense of the steamboat is laid at £1500, which is to be raised by 120 shares at £12/10/-per share. About £1200 has been already subscribed. John has put himself down for two shares and me for the same. It will give a poor dividend at first, if any, but the advantage of having a regular communication with Peterborough will be well worth the interest of the money. The vessel is to be built at the Falls, the engine at Kingston, whither Wallis went last week to make arrangements. Wallis is Secretary and Treasurer, John is on the Committee. I suppose the money market is again returned to its average state before the last convulsion, for John could only get nine percent premium for my last bill at Peterborough and was informed that the rate had fallen correspondingly at New York, Montreal and other places. Here we are very much in the dark about these matters. The Toronto papers which sometimes reach us do not quote exchanges, we see no New York papers, and our Spectator and Albion come so late and so irregularly that I think there must be unnecessary detention at some of the post-offices.93 Perhaps things will mend when we get a Post Office near us. [...] Letter from Anne and Thomas Langton to William Langton, 8 November 1837 or earlier Though first on the sheet I am really the last writer, so had best be read last, for though a preface may very well be perused after a work, an appendix

93 The Spectator and the Albion were two British newspapers.

Letter from Anne and Thomas Langton, 8 November 1837 159

would come very badly before one, and I suspect I have not much original matter for you but shall most probably write on the two engrossing subjects of my thoughts, the progress of the house, and of the season, with my hopes concerning the one and my fears respecting the other. I recollect when we took up our abode in our last habitation, the board was spread there for the first time on the 15th of November and your and Margaret’s health drunk in due form.94 Perhaps we may contrive to keep your wedding day again in the like manner. We shall then have been exactly three months inhabitants of John’s little mansion. I can scarcely believe I am not an older resident of the backwoods. The house promises to be very snug and comfortable in due time, and although it must remain short of some of its outbuildings this winter yet we shall find the possession of a kitchen a perfect luxury. The loss of John’s was a very great one certainly, but it appears to have been effectual in ridding us of the devourer more dreaded than mosquitoes.95 I shall send you a plan of our dwelling when we are settled, with the situation of all our pieces of furniture, that you may form something of a picture of our interior.96 I fancy this will probably be our last letter before the closing of the lake. How anxiously you will look for the one which will follow that event, which will tell you how our dear old people bear the cold. We shall at any rate take rather better care of ourselves than some of the older inhabitants. One of the ladies who came up the lakes a week or two ago, when there had been already sharp frosts, set out for this boating expedition of forty miles without a cloak and with open silk gloves. After the dinner at Wallis’s new house and dancing till past midnight the party of ladies were rowed home between two and three miles. It had been freezing hard all day. Do you think my dear mother would ever trust her precious daughter to join in such a party?97 I am afraid when we envelop ourselves in our furs and flannels we shall appear ridiculous in the eyes of our neighbours, but I do not care much for that. I have great hopes we may acknowledge another letter from you before closing this. John is gone to the Falls and there was communication between that place and Peterboro’ yesterday. 94 ‘ ... on the 15th of November’: the date of William and Margaret’s wedding anniversary. 95 Original notation (HHL), with reference to the kitchen: ‘It was accidentally burnt down.’ The ‘devourer more dreaded than mosquitoes’ that was killed in the fire was a species of beetle that lived in the wood. 96 A plan of the furniture arrangement was made. See ALAC, CKLRAF, 826B, Plan I, Ground Floor: Parlour. 97 Anne Langton is obviously a dutiful, devoted daughter but, by then in her mid-thirties, she sometimes chafes at her mother’s overprotectiveness. See also Ellen Langton’s letter of 28 October 1837.

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Extract from a letter from Thomas Langton, ‘The New House, Blythe,’ to William Langton, dated 29 November 1837 Two days after coming into the house the carpenters left us, but we expect the principal one back in a few days to finish off and complete some jobs not begun, to repair breakages, etc.98 In the interval, unpacking, siding [sic], putting two or three rooms in comfortable habitable trim, have been the regular occupations of your mother and Anne. Our own room had been previously prepared. Miss Currer’s was the next in order, which she came and occupied on the 26th, on which day we hanselled the parlour by reading prayers there to a full congregation of ten besides ourselves. I was, however, not in my best way, and absented myself. All the rooms are very comfortable except Anne’s. I think I can pronounce them warm, but as yet we suffer a good deal from smoke. We hope by degrees to remedy this defect, though I fear we shall not entirely remove it. Anne’s room, a small one over the entrance, intended to be heated by a Franklin stove, with a chimneypipe let into the dining-room flue, let in more smoke from that flue than it took away, and filled the other two bed-rooms. We have been obliged to close the flue, and give up the room as a bedroom, and reserve it for a storeroom, which will be much wanted. In the meantime Anne has the travelling bed put up in our room, and dresses in Aunt Alice’s. Another arrangement may be made by and by, but for the present this answers well. We were for a long time in alarm about servants. In three different journeys to Peterboro, and as many to Ops [Township], it had been one of John’s principal errands to engage a servant, or servants, and from each he returned unsuccessful. I suppose there is the same reluctance to go so far back as we have found in Liverpool servants to engage far out of town. Whatever the cause may be, we could get no experienced servant from the more settled part of the country, and we had seen specimens of the new arrivals which were very discouraging. In these circumstances Anne, John, and I were, one Sunday afternoon about a month ago, going over the new house, and planning what was to be done, when a spare, decent-looking young man of the labouring class came upstairs to us, whom John greeted by the name of Dan. I immediately recollected the name as one of John’s first acquaintances in the backwoods, and found it was actually Dan O’Flyn, who had come to repay John some money he had lent him last summer to enable him to

98 Recovered material (EP): ‘Two days ... answers well.’

Letter from Thomas Langton, 29 November 1837 161

procure some comforts for his old father and mother, who had come out to end their days with him.99 John had great doubts about the eventual repayment, but the case was so parallel to his own that he could not resist the appeal, and Dan now honourably redeemed his credit. He also applied for work, and in the course of the conversation it appeared that a daughter had accompanied the old folks, and though on enquiry we found she had never been in service, we proposed that she should return with Dan in the ensuing week, and be employed in scouring and washing out the rooms. The pair came to us about a week afterwards, and we found the sister a neat, cleanly, hard-working woman, who, though without experience as a servant, had been accustomed to have things comfortable at home. She is cheerful, disposed to be chatty without being too familiar, and without a spice of blarney. We have been all very much pleased with her, as you will judge from my having allowed her so much room in my letter. She had no objection to engage herself to us in any capacity, and left the wages to ourselves. I am only sorry she cannot be a permanent assistant. She is married, and her husband permitted her to accompany the old folks out, saying that if she gave him encouragement after having seen the country, he would follow. So that whether he comes out to her, or she returns to him, we cannot expect to retain the services of Mary Scarry beyond the ensuing summer.100 In the meantime Mary makes us very comfortable, and we shall have time to look about us for a successor to her. We have a fine, cheerful, active lad of about sixteen, whose time is pretty fully taken up with cutting wood for the fires. The consumption of wood is awful. We burn, I think, on the average, about two trees per diem. A man goes into the bush, selects his trees, cuts down one, divests it of its branches and top, which are left there to rot. The oxen then drag it to the house, or woodyard. It is then chopped into lengths according to the several fire-places, and the lengths are split, except a few which are left whole for back logs. In a general way, I think 99 Original notation (HHL): ‘John Langton made the acquaintance of Dan O’Flyn on his first visit to the Lakes in the autumn of 1833. He observed a disconsolate figure sitting by the Lake, who informed him that he had cleared his land two months before, and had come down to the Lake for the chance of seeing a fellow-creature. His land was two or three miles off. He at once took Langton under his special protection, assuming the position of mentor and valet de chambre, Langton in return taking charge of his money for him. Dan was very useful in assisting the process of bringing up the goods of the settlers who came from Peterboro together on that occasion, M’Andrew, Jameson, and Langton.’ 100 Original notation (EP; reproduced in HHL): ‘Mary Scarry remained in Canada and was off and on the faithful servant at Blythe for many years, called in also on special occasions of trouble. She accompanied the family to Peterborough also in 1851.’ This move actually occurred in 1852.

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two-fifths of each tree is chopped into chips, a mountain of which accumulates about the yard, and is very difficult to get rid of. When the clearing is extensive they have to fetch the logs a good distance. One may say there is only one sort of tree suitable for firewood, for there is always one sort which burns better than the others, and as long as there is a supply of that sort, no other will do. When that is exhausted the next best-burning wood will be the only sort. As yet the sugar maple blazes away on every hearth. Its destruction is of less consequence, as the maple sugar, if made by hired labour, comes as dear as good Muscovado; but the sugar-making takes place when the settler has little to do, and if he has an active family, they may supply themselves with sugar at a trifling expense. [...] Extract from a journal letter of Anne Langton, Blythe, to W. Langton, 5–15 December 1837101 [Editorial note (EP) … Alluding to the transport of their furniture and other goods my aunt writes: – ] [5 December.] Some articles have escaped damage in an extraordinary manner.102 The sofa, which travelled in its best cover because it was such as could not be removed and replaced, looks as if it had never been out of a drawing-room. The heavy things have generally suffered more than the light ones – the latter are mostly safe ... Besides being comforts, the old well-known furniture makes one feel very much at home. Some of the new articles, too, are most comfortable. The Turkey-carpet makes our floor very warm, and wherever it lies, there I think we shall sit in the winter season. December 11. Since Dec. 5th we have had the temperature down to an average or ordinary winter degree, but it has got some thirty to fall, and I will not boast of how we bear cold too soon. The snow is accumulating about us, and I

101 H.H. Langton omits this letter extract. Philips inserts it out of chronological sequence, following the letter of 11 December 1837 – probably an oversight on her part. 102 Original editorial note (EP); recovered material, ‘Alluding to ... darkness of the forest.’ The first part of the original editorial notation reads: ‘Speaking of her father’s state of health and the difficulty of getting suitable things for him my aunt writes: – “My mother contrives him a very tolerable variety of puddings, and even produces an excellent egg custard without eggs.”’

Journal letter from Anne Langton, 5–15 December 1837 163

daresay the next frost will be a more enduring one. The operation of underbrushing has been going on for the last month at a short distance, but all I saw of it was the fire in the wood at night. It had a curious appearance, to see at times a solitary tall tree glowing from top to bottom in the midst of the darkness of the forest. Chopping is now about to commence, and in this I feel very much interested, as a supply of firewood is of the utmost importance. Hitherto the day’s labour has supplied the consumption of the day, and when one sees what a heap of logs disappear in a day, one can scarcely trust to the exertions of one’s chopper. It is rather a troublesome sort of fuel from its bulk, its weight, and the rapidity with which it is consumed. [...] The lodging-room fireplaces are of much smaller dimensions, but when a whole party have to be kept warm you must have such a glow as shall oblige the circle to be a wide one. The unsplit wood makes the most economical fire, and a very warm one, though, with a mixture of the split, it is more bright and cheerful. One large, sound back log is, however, indispensable, and such a one we have sometimes as takes two to carry it. You will think that my thoughts run entirely upon heat and cold, but I can tell you they have been in the glue-pot a great part of last week, or buried in the contents of drawers and boxes. We do not yet make very perceptible progress towards a settled state, but I know we are advancing, though through very tangled paths. Meanwhile we are sufficiently comfortable to take things rather easily. Our sitting-room, though not yet adorned with its cotton hangings, has all that is essential to comfort. I could very soon reconcile myself to its dark-looking, log-walls, but the rough plaster between the logs is annoying. It is for ever crumbling down, and makes everything dusty. Our eyes have become a little familiarised with such things, and our room looks to me a very handsome one, in spite of its rough barn-like appearance. The large Gothic window, however, improves the general look of the room ...103 Baking is almost a daily operation, but not such a troublesome one in Mary’s hands as it was with our former bakers. The usual plan in this country is to mix flour with warm salt and water, and set it by the fire to rise. But it must be carefully watched, the temperature must be kept even, no easy matter in cold weather. They usually put their vessel within another closed vessel of warm water, but even then it requires great attention, for if the fermentation is too long delayed it becomes sour. Moreover, whenever the right degree of fermentation is attained, then and there you must mix

103 ‘Gothic window’: John Langton has designed a ‘tasteful’ residence, with European influences, one where the family, especially his mother, can feel as much at home as possible.

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your loaf at whatever inconvenient season it may happen to occur. If the operation is successful you have very good bread, but there is great uncertainty in it. Our Mary’s method is to boil hops in the water before mixing her rising, and to add a little maple sugar. This has the effect of making the rising keep a week or ten days, and there is not the necessity of the fermentation taking place soon. You may therefore bake several loaves in succession from the same rising, and the last will be as good as the first. In case of failure there is always a frying-pan cake to resort to, namely, unfermented dough baked in one cake about half an inch thick. I fancy it is bad taste, but I am very fond of these cakes, and were I keeping house for myself alone, should occasionally have one as a variety. At present we bake in a bake-pan, but an oven is one of the things we intend to have next year. December 15th. Our separation from the world seems to have ceased.104 Mr. Wallis and Mr. Hamilton called here this morning, and I suppose our opposite neighbours might venture to visit us now over the ice. The road through the Bush is the best communication with the Falls. [...] Our thermometer has dropped below zero, but the weather is calm and beautiful, and we contrive to keep the house very warm. In every way I have felt quite as cold in England as here, excepting that for ten minutes after my morning’s toilet the tips of my fingers ache as they never did at home. Extract from a letter from Thomas Langton to William Langton, 23 December 1837105 In this province the insurrection was suppressed and tranquillity restored before we heard of its interruption. How they are going on in Lower Canada you will hear almost as soon as we shall, for at this season our communications are very slow and limited.106 We have as yet only heard the first rather uncertain account of two villages being attacked, and I believe burnt, and probably the disturbances may not be subdued there so quickly as here, though from all I can hear there can be little doubt of the ultimate

104 Recovered material (EP): ‘Our separation ... with the Falls.’ 105 Philips omits this letter. H.H. Langton’s decision to include it reflects his awareness that he is presenting Anne Langton’s letters to a wider, public audience than the one Philips was addressing. For comment on the ‘insurrection,’ see the introduction to the present edition. 106 Thomas is referring to the rebellions in both Upper and Lower Canada.

Letter from Thomas Langton, 23 December 1837 165

result being the same. Our invitations had gone forth to twelve gentlemen to dine with us on Christmas Day, when on the 19th, a message was received from the Government by Wallis recommending the whole force of the townships of Fenelon and Verulam being called out to beset two roads into the Lower province – one about ten miles, the other about forty miles north of Fenelon Falls, by which it was thought Mackenzie might endeavour to escape. Dennistoun was therefore detached with twenty men to occupy these passes, where he would have had to bivouac in the woods with the thermometer at 12° below zero, and John was to have relieved him with twenty others on Monday the 25th for a week. This put an end to our party, as we expected; but this morning intelligence was received that Mackenzie had succeeded escaping into the States, so that there was an end to our soldiering for the present, and our party again revived with but short time for preparation.

Recto Running Head 166

Journals and Letters, 1838

Extract from a letter from Thomas Langton, Blythe, to his son William Langton, 10 January 18381 Since the end of the year we have had quite warm weather for a week, every appearance of snow had disappeared from the ground, and the lake if not impassable was dangerous, and the roads were become next to useless. This loss of the means of communication, if continued, would be ruinous to the country; but we have now again a pretty sharp frost, the snow falls, and it is to be hoped that in a few days the farmers, though rather late, may be able to take their produce to the towns and pay their debts to the storekeepers, who in their turn may be able to settle with their merchant, and everything may get again into the regular routine ... As for our post office at the Falls I fear the insurrectionary movements in the Province have delayed the arrangements and, indeed, thrown the whole department into confusion, for two, if not more, of the postmasters in the interior are supposed to be disaffected and have been put in confinement. Of the insurgents who escaped to the States we have very contradictory rumours; one says that they are coming with increased forces to renew the attack on Toronto, another that the Government force is going to attack them in the island in Lake Erie, where they have taken refuge. [Editorial note (BW): Thomas Langton’s letter goes on to give some details on their house and their living expenses. John was behind with his farm work after spending months on building the ‘big house’ at Blythe. Philips’s

1 Recovered material (EP): ‘Extract ... taken refuge.’

Letter from Thomas Langton, 10 January 1838 167

note, which follows, indicates that much work remained to be done on the house and grounds. It was several years before all of these undertakings were completed.] [Original editorial note (EP): My grandfather then goes on to speak of the cost of the house and living. The verandah still remained to be done, the stair rails and some plastering – inside; the rubbish outside to be removed, the ground to be levelled, the half acre of house-yard and kitchen-garden fenced in, and a couple of outbuildings put up. ‘John’s’ cattle and men having been used almost exclusively for the work of building and preparing the house, the farm work had naturally got behind. Horses too had to be purchased for this work. My grandfather thought the house promised to be warm and comfortable. He gives an analysis of expenditure. Over two months on the journey from Liverpool to Blythe, including the cost of apparel, stores, etc., transport of furniture, etc., from Manchester to Blythe, etc. Four months they boarded with my uncle, paying £2:10s. a month per head. My uncle proposed to pay them, when boarding was reversed, £1:10s, a month or 1s[hilling] a day – not quite so much as he was supposed to cost!! My uncle’s cows came to the house to be milked – they took care of milk and churn, paying my uncle for the butter they made, and having the milk and cream for their share of the dairy. My uncle sent them small supplies of potatoes, and to prevent their getting frosted in transit they were carried in the winter in a sack, soaked in cold water, and allowed to freeze, becoming in a few minutes a kind of mackintosh, in which the potatoes might be safely conveyed. My grandfather speaks of his own failing health and symptoms, and asks for some black currant jam to be sent in the next box from England, to relieve his thirst – one of his painful symptoms. In a letter of February 15, 1838, my grandfather gives a list of his son’s stock at that time: two horses, four milch cows – one only in milk, two draught oxen, a young heifer, and a year-old heifer as tame as a lap-dog, and very pretty. One of the cows gave such rich milk that it was put at once into the milk mug. There were pigs also. Of dogs, ‘Fury’ and ‘Rock,’ their parlour friends; old ‘Jezebel,’ deaf and blind in one eye; ‘Mowbray,’ a young hound, and a cat. Provisions were then very dear, especially flour. Scanty food and cold weather brought hard times for the animals in that country. Ploughing three years after clearing the land, the smaller stumps come away of themselves[;] continued yearly, more and more come out, except pine, hemlock, and some of the largest oaks, which have to be pulled out. Trees chopped in summer rot a year or two before those chopped in winter. My grandfather gives anecdotes of Irish labourers, settlers, who, after starving on potatoes and

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buttermilk in Ireland, are very hard to please. They will not eat beef pie if there are potatoes in it, or fried bullock’s liver. One woman declared she could not drink black tea, it gave her a stomach ache, and she must have green. He remarks that ‘Ally’ [Alice] showed her good sense by considering going to Canada a formidable undertaking, while ‘Din,’ [Ellen] would be up to anything.] Account of the settlers in the townships of Fenelon and Verulam, 1838, by Thomas Langton2 I begin at the North. The tailor Allen, who had given up his half lot and removed to Fenelon Falls, where he could take a town lot and follow his trade, has married a widow from the States. As they have no family I think he is wise to give up farming and stick to his business. His wife’s younger son is our servant [William Dick] and a nice, handy, cheerful lad he is. We are well pleased with him. William Jones is from the sister isle, where he is supposed to have left a wife behind. [...] He never speaks but when spoken to, and then in the fewest words possible. [...] He goes off to his own farm without notice, and comes back to work for John again without being asked. This might not suit with many, but he knows so well what is wanted, and is so steady at his work, objecting to nothing, however disagreeable, that both parties seem suited. Alexander Daniel is from Glasgow or thereabouts, formerly a calico printer, then kept a shop. [...] When he first came out he bought a ‘United Empire’ right, and got it located in a different neighbourhood, but taking work with John, and preferring this situation, John made interest with the surveyor, and got his location changed. He appears very grateful to John. About a month after we got here, his little boy came one day to beg a little whiskey and some sticking-plaster for his father, who had had his thumb nearly chopped off. John went immediately to him, and found the thumb nearly severed at the joint, and hanging only by the skin and tendinous part under the thumb. The joint was not injured, except that a little cartilage was shaved off. John bound it up, secured it with splints and a bandage, and in ten days afterwards I found him chopping, and it has long been quite well again.3 [...] Daniel’s spouse is a capital helpmate for a backwoodsman, for she can do the work of a man, as well as her own domestic duties. 2 H.H. Langton begins 1838 with this item. 3 This is the first recorded incident of the Langtons supplying medical aid to their neighbours.

Letter from John Langton, 20 February 1838 169

William Jordan – the next to Daniel – is a very religious man. All his family attend prayers at John’s whatever the weather may be. [...] The surveyor who came to run the lines, as mentioned before, slept at Jordan’s, and speaking with me the following day he said he thought the Jordans were a very worldly-minded family, for that the girls were up before day-light, cleaning the house, making the fire, and preparing breakfast. Next comes John Menzies, who has bought half a United Empire lot from John, and has begun to clear it; but he is now engaged as John’s regular servant, and lives in a house built for him on this farm.4 He is an intelligent and able man, and the most useful one John has yet had; but he has too good a place of it, I think, and has got the length of John’s foot. Fergusson Duke, or ‘Fargy’ [...] is a very nice little civil and active man, of whom I have a very good opinion. [Editorial note (BW): Thomas Langton’s account of the settlers in the area is the last extant extract from his writing. He became increasingly ill from this point.5 He died on 4 May 1838 and was buried in the graveyard of the small hilltop church in Fenelon Falls; several of the young male settlers were his pallbearers.6] Letter from John Langton, Blythe, to Hugh Hornby, Liverpool, dated 20 February 18387 I should have sooner written in answer to your kind letter to my father to thank you and your brothers for your very handsome present, had I not 4 The Langtons and Menzies remained good neighbours until the latter’s departure for more settled parts in 1841. They left because of the difficulties of raising a large family by farming in a relatively remote area. 5 Original editorial note (EP; reproduced in HHL): ‘The letters during the early months of 1838 were mainly concerned with the illness and death (on May 4) of Thomas Langton. He had many weeks of pain and suffering, borne with great patience and fortitude, before the end came.’ Ironically, the first letter that arrived at Blythe following Thomas’s death was from William, announcing to his father that, finally, all his creditors had been paid. Of Anne’s, John’s, and Ellen’s responses to Thomas Langton’s death, we have not a word. They must have communicated them to William and his family. Neither Ellen Philips nor Hugh Hornby Langton, however, chose to include them in their editions of the Langton journals and records, presumably because they considered such expressions to be far too private to be shared with broader audiences. 6 Thomas Langton’s grave is located in the old churchyard at the site of the former St James Anglican Church on the hilltop at Fenelon Falls, as are the graves of Ellen Langton and Alice Currer. 7 Philips omits this letter.

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wished at the same time to state to what I had employed it, and to show that I now so far see my way as to feel confident of being able to support myself in my present situation. [...] One hundred pounds of this I have invested at 8 per cent and I hope to leave it untouched as a nucleus to which additions may be made from time to time. The remainder has been laid out principally in increasing my clearing, in additional buildings, etc. For the first two years after my arrival in this country everything was at a standstill, or rather retrograding, and as immigration was almost stopped, we in the back country, whose sole dependence lay in an increasing population, suffered the most. After our first sanguine expectations had evaporated the prospect certainly was most dismal, and even when I came over to England [in 1836], though I thought I saw symptoms of improvement, still I had my misgivings, and I must say that fears predominated over hopes, and had I been young enough to begin any new line of life I believe I should have left the country like many others. I am glad I did not, for though there is nothing very splendid to look forward to, there is at any rate a certainty of being able to live decently, and when one has become attached to the life, as I am, and one sees few of one’s friends better off than oneself, there is not much more to be wished. Everything in this world is by comparison, and you are no richer in England than I should be with £50 a year and my farm in Canada, that is in the backwoods. In the front, as we call it, i.e. in the older settled portions along the Great Lakes, there are no doubt many men of substance, but they move in quite a different sphere from us, and by the time that our [back] country is in the front it is to be hoped that we shall progress along with it. In the meantime we can live. My farm this year will yield about £40 profit besides paying my expenses of living, and this profit should annually increase. It is nearly double this year what it was last, though the prices of produce are not nearly so high. At first the stumps, roots, and other encumbrances occupy about one quarter or one third of the surface, but these gradually disappear by cultivation, whilst the productiveness of the soil is in other ways increased – besides that the same buildings, stock and implements, etc., which I must have now, would suffice for a farm nearly double the size of mine at present. These improvements certainly only proceed gradually, but when we have once got the footing we have now, we may look to them with certainty. Even the war which seems impending over us cannot, I think, retard us much and it may do good.8

8 John Langton here refers to the possibility of a renewed attack on Upper Canada by Mackenzie and his supporters, at Niagara, reinforced by American aid.

Letter from John Langton, 20 February 1838 171

Upon the subject of this war allow me to say a few words which may not be useless, as you foreigners really seem to know very little about us. Almost the only English newspaper I see is the Spectator, a paper for which I used to have considerable respect. But though he [the editor?] commences most of his articles on Canada by lamenting the ignorance of the British nation concerning its colonies, he seems to be fully as ignorant as the rest. To read him one would imagine that Sir Francis Head was a tyrant who, with all the officers of Government, the magistrates, and others in authority, had league with the Orangemen, and by the use of public money, intimidations and other illegal means had succeeded in turning the virtuous and enlightened Radicals out of Parliament at the last election. All this he learned from a certain Dr. Duncombe, and considering his ignorance of the man and his prejudices he may be excused for believing it.9 But when every one of the Doctor’s facts have been refuted by the House of Assembly, not one of his own party attempting to defend them, when all the leading Radicals have disowned him and he was so ashamed of himself that for months he dared not take his seat in the House, surely the Spectator should have retracted. [...] The real truth is that the Radical party in this province is most insignificant, and had they not been bolstered up by the patronage of [Joe] Hume and others at home [i.e., in England], who I am convinced know as little of them as the nation at large, they would never have been heard of.10 There is no doubt a strong party of what are called Radicals at home, men who, justly perhaps complaining of one grievance, have other imaginary ones put into their heads; but those who call themselves Radicals here are in truth republicans, mostly Yankees, and they are both few in number and of little influence. These two parties coalesced in a great measure in the late parliament and were formidable, but when the true views of the Radicals became apparent, viz. shaking off the ‘baneful domination’ as Hume called it, all men of whatever principles who wished to maintain the connexion with Great Britain united and gave the so-called Radicals a most signal defeat, caring little for the local politics of the candidate, provided he were a staunch constitutionalist. I am convinced that there are 99 constitutional-

9 Dr Charles Duncombe, with his associates – including American sympathizers – had led the initial, unsuccessful insurgency in the southwestern region of Upper Canada in late November 1837. For Duncombe, see Michael S. Cross, ‘Duncombe, Charles,’ DCB, 9: 228–32. 10 Joseph Hume (1777–1855), a Scottish nonconformist and radical member of the British Parliament, was a proponent of parliamentary reform in the 1830s and 1840s.

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ists to 1 Radical in the province. What your English prints make of our rebellion I do not know, but the fact is that Mackenzie had never 500 men in arms in the Home District and those were of the lowest rabble with few exceptions, and seemed more bent upon plunder than anything else. A few shots dispersed them and the projected rising in the London district never took place. And this would have ended this mighty rebellion but for the kind offices of our neighbours over the water. I am far from approving of the conduct of Sir Francis Head in allowing the insurgents to meet with arms and drill within four miles of the capital unmolested, but if he did allow it as a test of the loyalty of the province, as he asserts, certainly the result was most convincing. Not all the hopes even of plunder could draw 500 men to Mackenzie’s standard, while almost every male inhabitant was in arms the moment the news of the insurrection reached them. Be it remembered that there was not one single soldier in the province. Unfortunately Mackenzie escaped to the States where he was supplied with arms, ammunition, provisions and recruits in abundance. Public meetings were held everywhere to further the cause of the patriots, as they were called, and whatever the Government of the States may say, no one can doubt that they connived at least at these proceedings and at their [the rebels] seizing arms in the public arsenals. With all this protection and assistance there were not 50 Canadians with Mackenzie on Navy Island. It was no longer rebellion but an invasion. Whether we were justified in burning the steamer Caroline may be a disputed point, but it undoubtedly brought matters to a crisis, and that and a similar seizure of a vessel at Detroit had the effect of making the Yankees vapour a good deal but checked their assistance to the rebels.11 Now everything appears quiet, though at the expense of several hundred thousand pounds. We have plenty of regular troops and more than plenty of embodied militia, and perfect reliance upon the loyalty of our own population. The House of Assembly pass very valiant resolutions and the Yankees in Congress make very valiant speeches, but in my opinion it will all blow over; at any rate it will depend entirely upon how old England takes it. I myself feel wonderfully indifferent about the great question of war or no war. As a man of peace, not endowed with any particular military ardour, I prefer the ploughshare to the sword. I should be considerably annoyed to have to march down to the frontier to be picked off by an American rifle,

11 The Caroline was a U.S. navy vessel that ferried men and supplies to Mackenzie on Navy Island in the Niagara River in support of his intention to launch a renewed attack against Upper Canada. Captain Allan MacNab ordered the ship’s destruction. See Craig, Upper Canada, 250.

Letter from Anne Langton, 19 May 1838 173

but at the same time I cannot shut my eyes to the fact that a war would pour a great number of British sovereigns into Canada and that the price of wheat would be much increased. Besides, when one fairly got warmed I do believe I should enjoy a shot at the Yankees. As yet the military mania has not reached us, though on the front everybody is mad. In the streets of Toronto every third man is a soldier, and at least every fifth an officer. Captains and colonels are as thick as blackberries, and the cavalry (lancers no less) are galloping about to the imminent risk of the lives of passers-by – and their own. Military tailors not being plentiful here, the variety in the uniforms is amusing and their cut as absurd as that of their wearers. But the article in greatest demand is a sword; anything with a hilt will sell for £5, if it also has a point it will fetch £10. If this humour holds, a cargo of scarlet cloth and gold lace would pay handsomely. Where the money comes from I know not; many a farm I fear will be changed into a uniform. One advantage of a war will be that the money of fools will migrate into the pockets of the wise. There is some advantage in living in the wilderness; the news of the insurrection never reached us until ten days after all was over, though it took place less than 100 miles off, so we were saved a march to Toronto to show our loyalty. We have to boast of one military exploit however. Whilst Mackenzie was escaping to the States it was reported that he had been seen in one of the back townships in the disguise of an Indian, and we in consequence received an order to send a party to guard a chain of waters used by the Indians in going from our lakes to the Ottawa [River], situated about 30 miles back of us and 25 beyond the last habitation, by which pass it was thought he might attempt to reach the lower province. My neighbour Dennistoun [...] volunteered to take the command, and I was to relieve him in a week. As good luck would have it, we got news of Mackenzie’s escape the night before I was to have started, and I was not sorry to miss a walk through the bush of that distance, with eight days’ provisions on my back, not to mention sleeping out on the snow in December. Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 19 May 1838. May 19, 1838.12 We had the ‘burn’ a few days ago, rather an exciting proceeding, and at times exceedingly picturesque and beautiful.13 There was nothing to 12 Original notation (EP): ‘Two or three short extracts from my aunt’s letters may be of interest as descriptive of the country and the climate.’ 13 Another ‘burn’ is described in Elizabeth Simcoe’s diary. With no immediate danger present, both Simcoe and Langton admire the picturesque effect. Simcoe, the visiting wife of a

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prevent our giving due admiration to the grandeur of the destructive element; it was accomplishing nothing but good. The brush heaps are immense piles, and blaze up furiously. There was a little wind in a favourable direction, which carried the smoke into the wood, where it mingled with the trees very beautifully. The main part of the conflagration was over before night, but the scene was very pretty when the darkness came on, reminding us of an illuminated amphitheatre. Unfortunately a thunder-storm with much heavy rain came on the next morning, or the consuming of the encumbrance of the ground would have gone on for a week or more. ... I am struck with the variableness of our climate during the spring and autumn months. I think the changes are quite as frequent and quite as great as in England, but the clear and fine weather prevails more here than with you. Now, however, on the 19th of May, there is never a leaf except on John’s gooseberry bush, which is just beginning to show some green. We have got, however, some very ornamental wild flowers in boxes in our drawing-room window. My mother’s garden will not make much way this year, owing to the amount of rubbish yet about the place. John has made his very nice and neat this spring.14 Probably November.15 I like to see the Indian canoes fishing on the lake. We had a most beautiful scene the other night. The lake was beautifully calm; there were nine fishing canoes flitting up and down, each with its very bright light, reflected like a little column of fire. The moon, accompanied by a very bright star, was approaching her setting, and shed a broader and more silvery light over the lake. Pretty nearly from east to west, too, was extended a beautiful arch

dignitary, sees it from a purely pleasurable point of view, even as an event to be repeated for her entertainment, at her command if she should so choose (Mrs. Simcoe’s Diary, 72). It is interesting to note that in this passage – an extract from a letter – Langton is more descriptive of scenes than she is in her journals. 14 Original notation (HHL), based on a longer one by Philips (which she places further on in her text – see October 1838, note 17): ‘During the first years of the settlement of the family on Sturgeon Lake it was necessary to send them supplies from England. Their safe arrival was a source of great anxiety at Blythe. Sometimes, owing to the state of the lakes or the roads, their transmission from Cobourg or Peterborough was considerably delayed. In connection with these packages, as well as other goods, there are frequent allusions to “Purdy’s,” now the town of Lindsay. Purdy had built a mill on the Scugog River, with a very large mill dam. He had also a store-house, in which packages were kept until they could be conveyed further north.’ 15 Recovered material (EP): ‘Probably November ... lovely scene.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 October 1838 175

of the aurora, right through the zenith, and the north was luminous. It was a lovely scene.16 From the journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 October 183817 Did you ever write a journal with the intention of sending it to any one? I think it would be difficult to do it with simplicity ... One is tempted to act sometimes with the page in view that has to be written, and a day’s proceedings would be often diverted from their ordinary course by the recollection that they were to be recorded.18 It is different in stirring scenes where events are leading you; but in the employments of everyday life, especially when information has to be collected, inferences drawn, and an average estimate to be formed from the narration, journalising does become difficult. I made a commencement in the summer, but circumstances soon interrupted me, and I am sorry that I have lost the two or three days’ record, for I think it was rather characteristic of the backwoods, and amongst other singular employments presented my mother manufacturing putty, and myself glazing windows. I keep a sort of Diary, and have just been looking over some of its pages to see whether a few extracts would be interesting;

16 Philips follows this extract with an editorial notation: ‘The greater part of the year 1838 was taken up with finishing the house-building, out-houses, clearing away rubbish, etc. They were fortunate in having settled near them an excellent carpenter, on whom they could thoroughly rely.’ William Taylor, the carpenter, was a much-appreciated figure in the Langtons’ lives for many years. He established a Sunday school in Bobcaygeon and became a commissioner for the first official public school built at Fenelon. 17 Philips precedes this letter with the following editorial notation: supplies from england During the first years of the settlement of the family on Sturgeon Lake it was necessary to send them supplies from England. The purchases for these boxes and their packing was a source of great interest to the nieces in England. Their safe arrival was a source of great anxiety at Blythe. Sometimes, owing to the state of the lakes or the roads, their transmission from Cobourg or Peterboro was considerably delayed. In connection with these packages, as well as other goods, there are frequent allusions to ‘Purdy’s.’ Purdy was an enterprising Yankee, who had built a mill on the Scugog River, with a very large mill dam. In 1832 this dam had broken, flooded lands, and raised the lakes, and had taken, when repaired, two months to refill. Purdy had also a store-house in which packages were kept until they could be conveyed further north. 18 Recovered material (EP): ‘One is tempted ... become difficult.’ This paragraph was written retrospectively, on 6 October.

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but I do not find it so, I will give you, however, the last week as a specimen, which commences with the first of October.19 ‘Monday, Oct. 1.20 Quite a hot day. John at the Falls this morning. Captain Dobbs came in to tea, and played a game of chess with John. ‘Tuesday, Oct. 2. Foggy morning, but a warm day. The Captain goes after breakfast. John busy with the coach (my canoe) making a keel for it, I cutting out shirt necks for him. In the evening busy sail-making. ‘Wednesday, Oct. 3. Got some work done. Taylor the carpenter comes to his work again. Got letters from England from William and Jane Birley. ‘Thursday, Oct. 4. John goes in the Alice to the Falls with corn to grind, comes back to a late dinner in the scow laden with lumber, bringing the Alice in tow. Got a good deal of work done to-day. The woods are burning on both sides of us, and the wind keeps up the fires. Mr. Hoare, Mr. Jamieson’s father-in-law, coming up the lake, called for a boat or a guide, had a luncheon and direction to the Falls. ‘Friday, Oct. 5. Unusual occurrence. A tourist landed. We showed him backwoods hospitality, and set refreshments before him. His name was Captain Ayre. He had known Richard Langton in Greece, at the time of his death. I settled my accounts, and walked to the woods to see what the fires were doing. ‘Saturday, October 6. Got all the mosquito curtains and blinds stowed away. A change of weather, thunder and lightning, some heavy rain with promise of more, which will

19 Recovered material (EP): ‘I keep a sort ... fires were doing.’ It is interesting to note that H.H. Langton omits the entries from Anne’s diary for 1 October through 5 October. Nevertheless, a useful comparison can be made between these brief early entries – little more than notes – and Anne’s later, more expansive and discursive journal entries. 20 As long as Langton is transcribing from her already existing diary, she introduces each entry with quotation marks.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 October 1838 177

be good for the conflagration in the woods on both sides of us. The woods on one side of us took fire from the ashes of John Menzies’ pipe, and all being very dry, and the wind very high, we were in some alarm lest Dr. Diehl’s trees should be killed and spoil our view.21 On the other side the fires spread across the creek from the burning log heaps and were still spreading and threatening our store of firewood when I visited them. Yesterday’s rain appears to have checked, but not extinguished them. John glazed a few panes, but the putty does not hold out.’ This is a transcript of my journal, which is more or less full as I keep it regularly or otherwise, and it often happens at busy seasons that I get behindhand.22 The plan on which I want to write now, may, if persevered in, supply in some measure the place of a journal, which otherwise I fear you will not get. I shall take up my pen every day, whether I have anything to say or not. I have just looked back to see if my week’s journal requires any explanation. My canoe, from its size, had the name of ‘The Family Coach,’ and is generally called ‘The Coach,’ or ‘The Big Canoe.’ It is a very useful one, can carry a considerable load, and John is now giving it a keel and some rigging, intending to make an expedition to Peterboro in preference to a boat, the water being exceedingly low; in consequence of which the weekly boat has given up going down. There scarcely ever was so little water, the falls are not at all like themselves. Sunday, October 7. [...] It is more inclined to freeze than on any day we have had this year.23 I begin to think a little more about frost and snow than I have done this long time, and wonder how I shall like them on second trial. The transition from summer to winter will, I expect, be rather sudden. Last fall we had very sharp frosts before this time. This year we seem quite to have had a second summer since the flies left us, but it has been an uncommon one. John says he has seen ice in every month in the year excepting July, and he is not

21 Philips places ‘in the woods ... visited them,’ in a later portion of the entry for this day, following ‘ ... the falls are not themselves.’ Original notation (HHL): ‘The lot on the lake next to John Langton’s farm was owned by a Dr. Diehl, who never made his appearance and eventually sold it.’ 22 Recovered material (EP): ‘This is a transcript ... extinguished them.’ Langton begins to refer to her diary entries as a journal. 23 With this entry, Langton begins creating new journal material and becomes more expansive in most of her entries.

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quite sure about that month, but certainly as late as June 29, and again at the very beginning of August. I have had a cold, the first since I came to this country, not a bad one; but the spell is broken, and I am sorry for it. Monday, Oct. 8.24 John returned about mid-day from his expedition, he had not got further than Mr. Dennistoun’s, this gentleman, who was to have accompanied him, being obliged to remain at home. The usual Monday boat unexpectedly goes down again this week, and John suddenly determined to go in it, so our list of commissions was completed, a hasty dinner prepared for him, and after a bustling hour or two, he set off. I had been to the woods to see what the fire was doing; it had spread a little, but the wind threatened to rekindle it. I was tempted to pursue my ramble a little, but I found a sort of melancholy creeping over me as the wind rustled above me, and scattered showers of leaves around me, so I hastened home to shake it off, and the commotion attending John’s departure was well calculated to set me right. I am very little accustomed to solitary rambles, and romantic musings. I must tell you I had a letter the other day from the young lady we married in New York. She had promised to write to me as soon as I had given her information of our arrival here. I performed my part punctually, and, having no tidings, and being really interested about her, had written again during the winter, but without receiving the promised intelligence. I had at last given up all expectation of hearing. I was exceedingly glad to hear her describe herself as very happy; she had just become a mother, and ill health previous to this event was alleged as the cause of her silence. I cannot help thinking her mind had been diseased as well as her body – there was something strange about her, and this had always been one of my surmises in endeavouring to account for her not writing, as she had appeared really very grateful for the part we acted towards her, and she still expresses herself warmly so. I had also doubts and fears as to the result of an alliance formed under such unusual circumstances; but the tone of her letter satisfies me on this head. As you may have felt interested about the dramatis personae of our Atlantic journals, I will tell you that Miss Ormstead’s match went off upon money matters, her father being indignant at the mercenary stipulations of his intended son-in-law. If I write you so much about persons you can care so little for, you may have a long letter, but whether interesting or not is quite another thing.

24 Recovered material (EP): ‘Monday ... on board the Independence.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 October 1838 179

Tuesday, Oct. 9. Quite an uneventful day. My mother not being well, we sat rather more quietly at our work than usual, and talked of past days, and friends at home. We were just on the point of passing from the past to the future, when a boat we could not make out attracted our attention, and interrupted the conversation, which was perhaps well, for it generally sets me pondering, though I feel most strongly the wisdom of the command to take no thought for the morrow. My mother is trying to finish the slippers for William which were begun on board the Independence. Wednesday, Oct. 10. Again an uninteresting day, but rather a busy one. It is our wash, and though John is away, we are not a small family, the party in the kitchen being ten this day or two. Six or seven are at present our usual number.25 We certainly have been rather a bustling family this summer, and, when I look back, I sometimes wonder how we managed for those months we had no fire in the house, and every culinary operation, from baking bread to heating water, was performed on a dilapidated cooking stove, whilst eight or nine meals were regularly served each day and ten or twelve mouths fed with bread. This stove stands about ten yards from the back door, under a little shed. It measures about 2 feet 7 inches each way. The chimney pipe rises at the top, an oval kettle fits into one side, a deep pan with a steamer above it into the other side, and a large boiler on a bake-pan at the bottom, each hole having an iron lid, when the vessels are not in, on which you may then place smaller saucepans, or heat irons, etc. The front of the stove has an upper and lower door and a little hearth – formerly there was something of an oven within, but it was out of repair before I was acquainted with it, now there is only an iron plate, which enables you to have your fire on the upper or lower storey. Here was many a nice dinner cooked with all proper varieties for a party of five or six (sometimes more), besides the eternal almost daily breadbaking, and everlasting frying for breakfasts and suppers. We have now had an oven built, and a great relief it is, besides setting the bake-pans at liberty, whose perpetual occupation was a great inconvenience. We have made many experiments in the bread-baking way. I think I told you we patronised 25 When additional temporary workers were at Blythe, the family provided meals for them. At this time, the group would have consisted of the three women of the family, their regular outdoor and indoor helpers (for a total of some six or seven persons), and such temporary workers as Taylor (the carpenter) and perhaps one or two plasterers who were still completing details on the house.

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hop rising, but some failures led us to try the common salt-rising, and the votes were in favour of it. At one time we baked a great deal of leaven bread, but though frequently very successful, we also often had a sour loaf; now the president of the cooking department gives us hop rising bread, and I am inclined to hope we shall be more faithful to it than before. Our wash-house has lately become serviceable, and so by degrees we are getting forward, and in due time shall have things complete and comfortable, and wonder how so many conveniences could be dispensed with. Very little can be done this year in the way of smoothing, or levelling [the ground]; what is some time to be a lawn and garden is all still in the rough, and I daresay we must exercise our patience some time longer. To-morrow I must give you another dissertation, if its events afford as little to relate as these last days have done.26 We have latterly had more variety than usual, what with our own guests, the regatta, and its accompaniments.27 Thursday, October 11. A cold raw day. After a few household occupations, I was attacking in good earnest a job in the upholstering line, which had been hanging on hand for some time, when I was first agreeably interrupted by letters from England, and afterwards by one from John, saying he had to attend the Quarter Sessions, and could not tell when he should be at home. I was sufficiently disappointed just to ask myself the question how I should like a three or four months’ absence. John’s despatch was brought by a plasterer, obtained from Peterboro, and now we are really going to have the rooms underdrawn. Of course the house will be turned upside down for a time, and maybe my letter, along with other things, may be laid aside; but when I resume it I shall have to tell you that we have got a very good job done. Perhaps, after all, the confusion will not be very engrossing as I fancy it.28 In a few minutes one room was cleared out and the work is begun; but the clearing and cleaning after the work-people, is worse than the preparation for them. We had plasterers in the house three or four weeks ago when our chimneys were examined, and received some alterations, from which I think they are decidedly improved, though not entirely cured; they will be more tried in a 26 Recovered material (EP): ‘To-morrow I must ... accompaniments.’ 27 The regatta was the first major social event in the community following the Langtons’ arrival on Sturgeon Lake. It was hosted by them and organized by the Gentlemen of the Fenelon Hunt. Races took place off Sturgeon Point (Anne Langton, Story, 78). The Stewarts, from Peterborough, attended the event. See Frances Stewart, letter to Miss [Harriet] Beaufort, 29 September, 1838, in Stewart, Our Forest Home, 98–102. 28 Recovered material (EP): ‘Perhaps, after all ... until spring.’

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month or two, when, smoke or no smoke, we must make large fires. [...] I think though our ceilings may be done, the season is so far advanced we shall put off hanging and carpeting (with the new carpet) until spring. You cannot imagine how perfectly comme il faut rough, log walls appear to us now; when we have got our striped green print up we shall feel as grand as Queen Victoria amidst the damask hangings at Buckingham Palace. Hitherto I fancy we have more English elegancies about us than most of our neighbours, but the Dunsfords, I expect, will quite eclipse us, for they, it is said, are bringing a carriage out with them.29 I hope they do not forget to bring a good road too. When the internal bustle gets over, I expect we shall have a little more leisure than we have hitherto, from one circumstance or another, enjoyed. Our housemaid is a pretty good needlewoman, and seems fond of her work, and glad to have a little time for it. Whether our old woman may do or not I cannot tell. She is certainly too old, and is not as active and efficient a servant as one could wish, but with so many men about, it is some comfort to have one of steady years, and as there are not numbers to pick and choose from, it is very doubtful whether we could obtain one of exactly right years, powers, capabilities. She has her husband, too, to help her out, and as he is old also, one does not mind seeing him occupied sometimes in trifles about the house. It used to grieve me to see so fine a youth as our favourite William not fully, or to himself beneficially, occupied. Our English letter to-day was William’s of the 7th September, per Great Western; as it will soon be replied to by post I shall take no notice of it here. [...] Saturday, October 13. We had a sharp frost last night, the thermometer was still some degrees below the freezing point when I looked at it this morning, and there was thick ice; nevertheless we have felt less cold than yesterday. It is my comfort, when sadly starved, to think that this coming season of the year has always appeared to me the worst; when once there is no possibility of being too warm, then there is a chance of being warm enough.30 I was busy with my bed-hangings again this morning, and since dinner have been doing another sketch for you. I think in time you will have some sort of a notion what this world of ours is like. We had once planned this autumn to go down to Bobcaygeon, stay a night there, and get some sketches of the town and of the lake, but it is now

29 The Dunsfords emigrated from Frampton-upon-Severn in Gloucestershire, England. See 5, Miscellaneous, JLff, F 1077, MU 1691, env. 13, AO. 30 ‘starved’: here used in the sense of being benumbed by cold.

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Journals and Letters, 1838

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25 Sturgeon Lake from Blythe, c. 1839. An example of Anne Langton’s third sketch of a given place – in the manner of William Gilpin’s recommended ‘parcel of three drawings.’ The first was usually a quick, preliminary, on the-spot sketch in graphite; the second, a more worked-up version in graphite, often with pen and ink touches; the third, a highly polished watercolour rendering, sometimes in full watercolour or, as in this instance, a monochromatic version.

quite clear that we must wait for another season, for which I consider the regatta to blame. How all the bustle of that week seems to have faded from one’s mind! I could fancy it was at least six months since the flags were fluttering, the sails swelling, the oars splashing, and the water sparkling, about Sturgeon Point, and that woody promontory itself covered with beauty and fashion, as the phrase is. Before it we had been more than nine months without seeing a single lady, excepting that once, through the telescope, I spied Mrs. Hamilton in a boat.31 I am sometimes reminded of my early years and companionship with boys only; perhaps you would think my feminine

31 Langton here refers exclusively to ‘ladies’ of her own class. She does not include female servants and local settlers, whom she considered lower class. For discussion of class distinctions between employers and employees, see Blodgett, Centuries of Female Days, Vicinus, Independent Women, Maas, Helpmates of Man, McKenna, Life of Propriety, passim.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 October 1838 183

manners in danger if you were to see me steering a boat for my gentleman rowers, or maybe handling the ropes a little in sailing, but don’t be alarmed; though such things do occur occasionally, they are rather infrequent, and my woman’s avocations will always, I think, more than counterbalance them. I said I was often reminded of my early years.32 I have caught myself wishing an old long-forgotten wish that I had been born of the rougher sex. Women are very dependent here, and give a great deal of trouble; we feel our weakness more than anywhere else. This, I cannot but think, has a slight tendency to sink us, it may be, into a more natural and proper sphere than the one we occupy in over-civilised life, as the thing I mean and feel, though I do not express it well, operates, I believe, as a safeguard to our feminine virtues, such virtues, I mean, as the Apostles recommended to us, for I think here a woman must be respectable to meet with consideration and respect. The greatest danger, I think, we all run from our peculiar mode of life is that of becoming selfish and narrow-minded. We live so much to ourselves and mix so exclusively with one community. It is not only that the individuals are few, but the degrees and classes we come in contact with are still more limited. Those who have come to this country before their thinking and feeling years ought, I think, all to go back to the old world for a time, just to look above and below them, and how many new emotions they would have to experience. Here we know that the world is wide, but we do not feel its wideness. A long meditation sometimes on the former chapters of my life, brings me down to something more like my real proportions, but self and self’s concerns expand very rapidly when the pressure of the past is removed. We certainly do not gain many new ideas, and must consequently fall a little behind our age. My knowledge, even of the country I live in, increases very slowly since my dear father’s intelligent and comprehensive questionings have ceased to elicit information. My mother has just finished her portion of a letter to you, and I will lay aside this sheet to finish hers.33 You will find this contain [sic] much old matter, as letters of a subsequent date are likely to precede it. My mother, I fear, will have raised your expectations of this my dull folio – and such it was in the first edition. Monday, October 15. John arrived at home as we were sitting at tea last night, so I did not take out my journal, for we sat talking the whole evening, narrating the events of the week, and hearing the particulars of his journey. 32 On propriety, see McKenna, Life of Propriety, passim. 33 Recovered material (EP): ‘My mother has just ... of his journey.’ Anne Langton breaks off journal writing to add a note to her mother’s letter, which will be sent off sooner and so arrive earlier than the monthly journal.

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We had a mild, hazy day – very pleasant after the frost. Our Sunday congregation assembled in the kitchen, which was so hot that we were obliged to set open the back door, notwithstanding the occasional intrusion of dogs, cats and poultry. We had a bride and bridegroom at church, Jordan’s eldest daughter, who was married a week or two ago. The young man has land near her father, so we have another settled family in the neighbourhood. One of our new pair of blankets went as a wedding present to the young couple, for we feel ourselves now so well stocked as to be able to spare them. We shall never get into the way, I think, of heaping as many blankets upon us as people do here. [...] In the afternoon my mother and I took a walk, first to Menzies’ to see the baby, which had not been well, and afterwards to the landing, by way of a saunter.34 When we got home Aunt Alice had rambled out; her route had been the round of the clearing, climbing a fence occasionally on her way. We do not often separate in this manner, but generally if we do go out for the sake of a walk, sally forth the three in a body. But there is an advantage in dividing our numbers, for when we meet again we have our little adventures to relate. She had to tell how ‘Rock’ behaved, and we how ‘Juno’ conducted herself, and so forth. Our canine establishment has been further reduced, since the deaths of ‘Jezebel’ and ‘Fury,’ by ‘Mowbray’ being given away, to the great satisfaction of the household, for he was a terrible thief. Mr. Savage’s dog, however, is in our keeping, and such a favourite with John, that I do not think he will be disposed to relinquish it to its master again, and indeed, ‘Nettle’ was much fonder of being here than at home before Mr. Savage’s departure – so much for this important division of the establishment. This morning was beautiful; it was just freezing but no more, and there was a fog over the lake. These lake fogs are sometimes exceedingly picturesque, rolling up or down the lake with the wind and the Alice always looks her loveliest when she has such a background. The morning was devoted to clearing out the cellars, and stowing away their various contents, wherever there was room, and now the hammering is removed below-stairs. In the afternoon I took a solitary ramble to the wood, and skirted it for some time, in search of a point from which the house might look well in a sketch. I cannot quite please myself, but I think I shall try another representation of it some day. I left the beaten track altogether, and shall pay the penalty tonight by a long darn. It is just a week since I visited the woods before, and a great change it has made. They are getting very thin, and the ground is well carpeted with red and yellow leaves. When I got home I found there had 34 Recovered material (EP): ‘In the afternoon ... the establishment.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 October 1838 185

been an alarm.35 The carpenter had been burning too many chips, and the chimney caught fire, but all was quite safe again. John had to go again to the Falls to-day about lumber for our proceedings, and has not made his appearance to dinner, though we waited till six o’clock, probably deterred from setting out by a very stormy appearance on the lake, which is now, however, again like a looking-glass. When John returned from his trip to the ‘Front’ last night, we very soon got upon the subject of matrimony, a very favourite topic with him at present; but though much in his head, I do not think it has reached his heart yet. I wish he may meet with a wife for his own sake most sincerely, though I think it very questionable whether it would not be for my happiness that he should continue to want his sister. There is so much happiness, under every disadvantage, in having an object in life, and feeling yourself of real use to some one, that I think even selfishness would induce me to remain with him, whilst unmarried, unless, indeed, I should happen to marry myself, which thing was never less likely. I will here thank you for the kind wish expressed that, in the event of my returning to England, I should make your house my home. I am perfectly convinced of your endeavour to make it a happy one to me should I do so, and I think I may trust to your kindness still further, and believe that you would not attribute it to any want of grateful and sisterly affection if I should not do so. But the morrow must take thought for the things of itself. [...] John heard, too, at Peterboro, that Mr. Atthill was ordained, but how the news came he does not know.36 Reports true or false travel through the woods very fast sometimes. We were reported to have reached Port Hope on our way here a week before we had left Toronto. [...] Tuesday, October 16. I put the finishing stroke really to my bed-hangings this morning, and no sooner had done so, than we determined to attack the dining-room curtains, for the plasterer has completed his work there and we are in hopes of getting the room finished off before Saturday, when John entertains the gentlemen of the Verulam and Fenelon Hunt.37 He is to have his dinner at his own house, and adjourn here to tea. This is the third time that such a party has been planned, and bad weather, or something or other, has pre35 Recovered material (EP): ‘When I got ... a looking-glass.’ 36 Recovered material (EP): ‘John heard ... England now?’ 37 The young British gentlemen–settlers were pursuing a favourite sport of members of their class. The Hunt Club, however, does not appear to have lasted for long.

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vented it from taking place. I hope this [time it] will go on, and also go off, well. John got back from the Falls this morning; he had not been able to get his load before dark last night. I had been flattering myself that we were pretty comfortably settled with servants, and therefore am much disappointed to find we have another change in prospect. Our housemaid informs us that she never stays from home in the winter, and that she never intended remaining more than three months. Of this we were never informed, or we certainly should not have engaged her. This, I suppose, is one of the troubles of the backwoods; there is so much expense and loss of time in hunting for a servant here that it is doubly annoying. However, it is not such a calamity to be left without as it would be at home.38 Last winter we spared our only woman twice, once for a week and again for a fortnight, on the latter occasion having company in the house. Mr. Savage was staying [for] the sugar-making with us, indeed he had come into the kitchen and helped me to set a pan upon the fire. How strangely one’s ideas accommodate themselves to the ways and necessities of the country one is in! This summer, when our bustling household made a little help from the ladies often necessary, I used to be amused at myself going so composedly about my duties at the cooking-stove, in full sight of Mr. Atthill, occupied in the joiner’s shop. One would feel shocked at such observation in England.39

38 Mrs West devotes a chapter to relations between mistress and servant. She is adamant on strict observation of demarcations between their respective positions (Letter XIV, ‘On Our Duty to Servants and Inferiors,’ in Letters to a Young Lady, 3: 287ff). Errington notes that servants in Upper Canada were ‘obliged to function within a culture that increasingly accepted [class- and gender-related] values and role divisions,’ thus increasing tensions between employers and employees (Wives and Mothers, 23). In Part 2 of her book, Errington provides detailed discussion of the family economy, colonial housekeeping, and mistress–servant relations in Upper Canada (81–130). 39 Later, recalling similar incidents and comparing differences in conduct based on gender difference as practised in England and Canada, Langton would point out that, nevertheless, ‘On all suitable occasions, our ceremonial and attire [in Canada] were correct. Once when we were going to have one of our state dinners to entertain a bride, the young men asked to meet her came early, and were employed all the morning helping my brother to paint a boat, just in front of the kitchen windows, where they must have seen the ladies constantly going backwards and forwards in their aprons, making preparations for the feast. As it happened, rain came on, and the bridal guests did not appear, so the two parties, who had been working in sight of each other all the morning, sat down in due form to the well-spread board, feeling very much like children playing at being gentlemen and ladies’ (Story, 110–11).

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Wednesday, October 17. This morning my mother and I cut up a little porkling we had killed yesterday, and we agreed, when on a small scale, it was more agreeable to operate ourselves than stand by and give directions. Afterwards we were all buried in red moreen.40 I rather like a piece of work of this kind to be done in a hurry, with a given day on which it must be completed; one sets about it with energy, and it gets finished. It has been very cold to-day. Our drawing-room is quite too low, we find, to admit of the busts [of William and Thomas Langton] standing upon the bookcases. We must have brackets in either the hall or dining-room for them. It will be very essential that we place them in a good light; I find it makes the greatest difference. William’s bust, removed now out of the dirt and confusion below, is placed, for the time being, where I can scarcely see in it a likeness, excepting perhaps the nose. I am afraid I shall never like it so well anywhere as in its first position on the stove, where, of course, it cannot remain. I must not indulge in more scribbling to-night. Thursday, October 18. I have just been writing part of a sheet to William, and shall probably in consequence cut my journal very short to-day.41 ... Our confusion increases, and will increase still more, though we shall have a habitable room below-stairs after this week; yet lath and plaster will be about all the next one, and I fear more [longer] than that. We have finished the dining-room curtains to-day; I should be sorry to do such stiff sewing in the depth of winter, from what I recollect of my finger-ends last year in hard frost. My hands are not given to chap much, but just the end of my thumb and forefinger used to crack, and get deeper and deeper for two or three weeks. It is surprising how much annoyance so small a thing can give. I am afraid I shall be softer about cold this year than I was last year. Then anything short of freezing to death was an agreeable surprise; of course you understand the expression in a modified sense. John says he minds the winter much more than he used to do; after all it is the length of it, rather than its severity, which is so very appalling. Friday, October 19. I have no variety for you today, nothing but confusion throughout; the smoke, too, conspired against us, and turned us out of our principal upstairs

40 Recovered material (EP): ‘Afterwards we were ... very cold today.’ 41 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have just ... short today.’

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sitting-room. We are now all congregated together in Aunt Alice’s room. It is not often that the wind comes from this quarter. I only saw our room once or twice during last winter in the state it was this morning. It has been a more thoroughly rainy day than we have seen for some time, and promises ill for John’s party to-morrow. We got the dining-room put in order again to-day. Whilst the workmen were at dinner my mother possessed herself of the plasterer’s trowel, and proved that she understood the trade by performing a neat repair about the dining-room fireplace. A hearth here can never look as neat as at home; there is not half the satisfaction in sweeping up that there is when there is a grate to sweep under, but if I should sometime again have the pleasure of putting the poker into a good coal fire, scaling the bottom bar and brushing up, I have no doubt I should find myself longing for a glowing pile of Canadian maple. I have a remembrance, too, of a black-looking fire and a housemaid’s long face as she said that it would not kindle for the chips were done, an unheard of calamity in this country; they accumulate only too fast, when the chopping goes forward. I have not visited the fires in the woods lately, for though I believe they are not even yet extinguished, the weather has been such that they certainly cannot have spread. The woods are changing very rapidly; I expect a few more days will clear them of all their leaves. I am afraid my journal becomes very stupid; it is rather unfortunate that you should come in for all the plastering, it is somewhat stupifying [sic]. I expect, however, we shall have much comfort from our present derangement when it is all over; our rooms will be warmer, although the sun will not shine so brightly through the walls as it used to do, and we shall not need to go round stuffing with cotton wool, and pasting brown paper over the holes as we did last winter. Moreover, every word spoken above-stairs will not be heard below-stairs, and vice versa, neither will it be necessary, when washing an upper room, to cover all the furniture in the room below it, etc., etc. Though our floors appeared very well laid in the first place, yet the shrinking of the wood made many a wide gap in them. There is no such thing as getting seasoned wood for building, and scarcely such a thing as making full allowance for shrinking in cases where you may attempt to make it, so that for a length of time many a little alteration or re-adjustment is becoming necessary. Sunday, October 21. Yesterday was again a wet day, but not so wet as Friday, for I made a great many journeys down to John’s and only came in for one shower; yet the weather was so unfavourable that John felt quite certain none of his party would come. Our preparations, however, of course went on, and as we had a

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 October 1838 189

nice dinner ready for them I was well pleased, just before dark, to see a boat making its way to the landing. The guests were five out of the eight who were to have assembled, the defaulters being the gentlemen from the lower end of the lake, on account of the weather, and Mr. Wallis, through indisposition. Those present were Mr. M’Laren (Mr. W.’s right hand), Captain Dobbs, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Dennistoun, and Mr. Dundas. Perhaps you would like to know what we gave them for dinner. Soup, boiled pork (the national dish), stewed goose, and chicken pie, with vegetables. Second course – plum pudding, apple tart, and a trifle. These all had to be carried down a slippery hill on a dark night, but everything, I understand, arrived safe, and full justice was done to our cookery. Between nine and ten our receivingroom began to fill with blanket coats, and I assure you when such is the costume, a room fills much faster than at any other time. We had tea and a very chatty evening, all being in good spirits, except poor Captain Dobbs, who is just about to leave the neighbourhood for the winter. The old man is sadly quizzed by the younger ones. He doubtless lays himself open to it, but I wish they would have a little more mercy. […] Our room looked exceedingly snug and English, with its Turkey carpet, its crimson curtains, and its ceiling, even notwithstanding its log walls. Mr. Atthill, I understand, is ordained, and will be in these parts again before long. [...] He is, I believe, a very sincere Christian, and will, I hope, make a useful minister to some pastorless flock in our poor neglected country.42 I believe the flirtation between Mr. Dennistoun and Miss Hamilton has been actively renewed this year; if we should have a wedding on the lakes I shall begin to have some hopes for our other young men.43 The Dunsford family has arrived, not on the lake, but somewhere in this country, on their road towards it. Five young ladies all grown up! What a commotion they may make amongst us! This morning the same party assembled to tea, coffee, and water porridge, – a great favourite with most of the backwoodsmen. They departed before our congregation met. We had an excellent sermon on evilspeaking, and by way of showing how much we had profited by it, we began talking over the weak points of our several neighbours immediately afterwards. Aunt Alice is looking very melancholy to-night, her watch refuses to go, the clock stopped yesterday, my watch is gone to England, my mother’s to Peterboro, there is a general strike among the time-showers. Fortunately my mother has a second old watch, on which we all now depend ...

42 Recovered material (EP): ‘to some pastorless flock.’ 43 Recovered material (EP): ‘I believe the flirtation ... young men.’

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Monday, October 22.44 A slight frost again, and rather a pleasant day. After various household occupations and a little putting of things straight after John’s party, I set out to take a walk, a thing I have done much more frequently than I used to do. My daily duties have not given me so much exercise within doors as they did. To-day I crossed Dr. Diehl’s land down to the lake shore, and finding, from the lowness of the water, a very good beach, I skirted the lake for a considerable distance. I have not had such a stretch of fast walking since I came to this country. I turned back at last very reluctantly, but I thought a longer absence would excite surprise. If I could start again from the point I stopped at, I would get to Sturgeon point to-morrow, but as I must go over the same ground, I shall probably not proceed much further. Probably the novelty of the thing made part of my enjoyment to-day. I gathered a few shells; if my little nieces inherit their mother’s taste and have learnt to think of Sturgeon lake, an offering of shells from its shores will not be unacceptable. There is very little variety except in colour and size. [...] The cellars have been plastered to-day, and to-morrow we shall have to introduce the workmen upstairs, for every room in the house, it appears, requires something doing to it, either in the way of finish or repair. In the hurry of examining the roof when the chimney was on fire, part of the ceiling of my room was broken in. I call it my room, but I do not occupy it myself, excepting with my sundry possessions. My mother has taken a great fancy to her own fireside since she has lived upstairs. Tuesday, Oct. 23. A beautiful bright morning. I thought, the first thing, that I would certainly double another cape to-day, but it soon became gloomy and cold, so I made a patching and darning day instead, the details of which would not figure particularly well in the pages of a journal, nor am I aware that my musings and cogitations were of a very interesting nature; most probably they partook a little of the homeliness of my occupation. John came home from the Falls to dinner; he brought no news, however, from that centre of the universe. Thursday, Oct. 25. I did not take out my writing table yesterday, it was a stupid day. Every room upstairs is now smelling of plaster, and looking as if a week’s work

44 Recovered material (EP): ‘Monday ... been the reverse.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 October 1838 191

would scarcely set it to rights. The confusion, however, has nearly reached its climax. To-day was almost worse than yesterday; but to-morrow our plasterer departs, and though there will be plenty of cleaning to follow, I expect Sunday will see us very much like ourselves again. We had several newspapers and a letter last night, of September 15th. I do not reply to them [here], as half a dozen letters may perhaps go by post before this gets off; but I cannot help just alluding to the unaccountable mistake which has taken some of my drawings to Ford Bank. I have been trying to recall what I can have said which led you to suppose I intended any of them for our friends there. My mother says, ‘You see what it is to write indistinctly.’ I am glad, however, that my bad writing has produced anything like pleasure; it might have been the reverse. This morning I took a walk through the bush, for the purpose of calling in Mrs. Daniel’s assistance for a grand scrubbing day tomorrow. She promises to come, though she seems a little overwhelmed with business herself, as they had killed an ox a day or two before, and she had had to assist her husband in flaying, cutting up, etc.; and when the butcher’s part is over, I know well from our own experience how much labour there is in turning head, heels, tallow, etc., all to the best account. The shanty showed evidence of the work that had been going forward. In coming back I visited a new house that Jordan has been building, the only edifice of squared logs besides our own that there is about. I then called in to see Mrs. Jordan, and compliment her on her new mansion. Nearer to ourselves I found another house, sprung up since I had been on the road, of which I had never heard a word. It is Allen’s. He and his three step-sons, of whom our William is one, were busy working at it, and this family will be one of our near neighbours in about a week. If they chop with judgment this winter I think the new building will afford me a pretty sketch in spring. I made one more call on my way home, on Mrs. Ferguson Duke, and then I thought I had transacted a great deal of business, just as you might have done after spending a morning with your card-case in hand.45 Oh! there are exemptions and privileges in the backwoods! The last expedition I had made so far was on a beautiful July evening, when Mrs. Daniel’s baby had been taken very ill in convulsions, and I set out with my mother’s instructions and prescriptions, attended by one of our maidens, just at sunset. Our homeward path was illuminated by a beautiful moon, fireflies, and phosphoric wood. This was 45 On the importance of mutual dependence between neighbours and the growing sense of community as a small settlement expands, see, for example, Maas, Helpmates of Man, 116–17.

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the first and also the last time I have seen the eternal forest under Luna’s dominion. The little sufferer of that day is now a fine healthy child. We have had rain again, and the lake rises so fast that I am afraid my newly discovered promenade will be soon under water. It has certainly been very fortunate for our plasterer’s operations that the frost has kept off so long. He is now going to plaster Mr. Wallis’ house and the church. I am truly sorry for Mr. Wallis, having all to come that we have just gone through. I have been making experiments to-day in my room, to see whether there be no possibility of warming it this winter, and I am happy to say, after dismissing one stove, and putting up another, that I see a good prospect of this addition to our comfort. However, I feel half blinded to-night from the smoke I have been in most of the afternoon. Sunday, October 28. I think you will not be surprised that the business of Friday and Saturday afforded me nothing interesting to relate. Peace and quietness is at last restored, and order also everywhere but in the drawing-room, which we may not perhaps refit in a hurry, especially if we determine to hang it at once.46 I think it very probable we shall live a good deal in one room this winter for the sake of warmth, and the Turkey carpet will be very likely to make the choice fall upon the dining-room; there are double windows, however, to throw into the other side. We have been sadly thrown back in our proceedings by the loss of the putty, which John had provided at Peterboro, and sent up by the boat, whilst he went down to the front. The glass arrived safe, but the putty was lost on the way, and there is none, nor materials for making it, in these parts at present, so that our new building must continue to admit the winter cold in every room. Perhaps some one similarly situated possessed themselves of it. There is a sad scrambling for some of the necessaries of life sometimes. There was only one box of soap to be had in Peterboro, which John and Mr. Dennistoun obtained, and were to have divided, but, coming up unattended, it was intercepted, and parcelled out at Bobcaygeon. Luckily John had been able to procure another at Coburg, but neither that place nor Peterboro could furnish any candles; lamp oil is also not to be obtained at present. I hope there will be an arrival of some of these necessities before the frost, though our English supplies make us in some measure independent. We are talking of making soap; hitherto we have not done so, having only one servant and few conven46 ‘to hang it’: presumably to hang thick material on the walls to add warmth and keep out draughts.

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iences. ... Last winter we thought it better not to attempt it, and our large family gave us quite sufficient to do this summer.47 Now, I think, we may venture on a new undertaking. We have had several snowstorms to-day, with bright gleams of sunshine in between. John took advantage of some of the fine intervals to go up to the Falls. I hope to hear when he comes back that some arrangement has been made for sending the scow to Ops, and bringing up the remainder of our packages. John intends writing to Whitby to desire that any coming after this may be sent back to Coburg, from where it will be more easy to get them up in winter; numbers 9 and 10 are not yet announced.48 I should tell you that both the clock and Aunt Alice’s watch have taken to going again, and to counterbalance this good news, I must say I have no hope that my room can retain its warming apparatus. Monday, October 29. The ground white for the first time, and the thermometer at 22, a strong wind too, so that it was very cold; but there was something exhilarating in the brightness that made the aspect of winter less formidable.49 We sent our maiden under escort to the Falls, that she might see the lion of the lakes before leaving them. John came home from the Falls, bringing intelligence of Mrs. Jamieson’s death, and Mr. Jamieson’s intended return. [...] I went out in the afternoon for a walk, but as I could not attempt a distant one, instead of pursuing my discoveries of last week, I turned to the right, and visited a new pier John is building, and then proceeded along the shore to the point represented in two or three of my sketches, but not being able to get round it, I turned into the wood and proceeded a little way through a cedar swamp, when I came out on the lake again. I found it snowing, so I made the best of my way home, carrying with me one new shell as the profits of my expedition, and having fixed upon the point for next year’s sketch.50 [...] Tuesday, October 30. A fine frosty morning led me to set out early in the day for another walk on the margin of the lake, bent upon exploring the coast a little further whilst 47 Recovered material (EP): ‘Last winter ... not yet announced.’ Presumably, Langton here includes servants and occasional workers in her overall description of ‘family.’ 48 The boxes of goods sent out to the Langtons from England were numbered in sequence. 49 Recovered material (EP): ‘The ground white ... next year’s sketch.’ 50 It is most likely that Langton executed several sketches of Blythe Farm, from varying viewpoints during summer 1838. Blythe from the Point is a distant view, taken from the narrow point of land referred to here. The point extends further into the lake than does the rest of the Langtons’ shoreline.

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the state of the waters admit[s] of it. I found no difficulty in reaching Cedar point, the extent of my limited ambition, since I made the sage discovery that I could not divide the walk into two, indeed, I passed it some way, and came so near to Sturgeon point that, had I had the least ambition to say I had reached it, I could certainly have proceeded, but my ambition was rather to say that I had stopped short of it, for I knew the exploit would give me anything but applause from any quarter.51 On my way I stumbled upon a deserted Indian encampment, where the business of canoe-making had been going on with great activity. A little further on I was rather surprised to meet a man, but I have no doubt the man was much more surprised to meet a woman. When I got home I found my two hours’ absence had alarmed my mother; she had sent John in search of me, supposing I had either stuck fast in a swamp, or got fairly bewildered in the woods. I have not the character of being half as prudent as I really am. I am aware of the liability there is of getting entangled in the forest if you venture far, and am very cautious. I think I must have taken some of these walks in order to have my adventures to relate, for I do not suppose during the preceding year I have made so many expeditions as I have this month. There is only one more day left of it, and I think I must then bring my journal to a close for the present. I have enjoyed writing it very much, and I shall have great pleasure in sending you another month some other time. The last of the month, October 31, is indeed most different from the first, the thermometer down at eleven with a sharp wind. We were, however, too busy to think about cold. Both an ox and a pig died the day before. I need say no more – give the reins to your imagination to fill up the details of our morning. Before dinner the Rev. Richard Atthill made his appearance amongst us and confirmed my suspicions that this journal could not go by him, for six months hence its little interest would be greatly diminished.52 He has been appointed to the living of Newmarket for six months, after which he will probably go home [to England] before entering on another cure. [...] He brings word that the Dunsfords are in Peterboro; he had seen them there, but we did not get any very distinct account from him what our new neighbours are like; perhaps he would not prejudice us for or against. They are to occupy Mr. Atthill’s house this winter. [O]ur carpenter is going down to make some preparations for them.53 The tidings from the Front are 51 Recovered material (EP): ‘I found no difficulty ... any quarter.’ 52 Recovered material (EP): ‘ ... and confirmed ... greatly diminished.’ 53 Recovered material (EP): ‘[O]ur carpenter ... future time.’

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that a very unquiet winter is expected, and a war is again fully anticipated. We are, I think, so far back that we need fear no personal disturbance. John thinks we are quite too far back for that, and that we shall scarcely know what is going forward. I now take leave of my readers for the present; if they have derived an evening’s amusement from the foregoing pages, and have been furnished with a little matter for thought and conversation, I am more than repaid, and shall have great pleasure in appearing before them again at a future time. Extract from a letter from John Langton to William Langton, December 183854 I am quite disgusted with the Spectator, believing every lie against our Government and talking of the horrible atrocity of hanging two or three rebels and pirates. They appear to me far too lenient; if they had shot all the American sympathisers last year there would not have been so much sympathy this winter. But they have seen their error, I think, at last, and I should not feel any surprise or grief to hear in a day or two of the 162 prisoners taken at Prescott having sympathetically dangled in a row in sight of their friends at Ogdensburgh.55 One thing is certain, that if the Government pursue their old plan of letting the prisoners go, under promise of being good boys for the future, they will be troubled with few prisoners for the future, and perhaps that might be the best way of settling the question. Really, John Bull appears to be a very good-natured fellow to go on exchanging civilities with the Yankees, when they are permitting all the refuse of their population to muster on our borders, and harass us the whole winter with their petty incursions, without taking any effectual steps to keep them in order. They have a few troops upon the border, and a steamer on the lake, and every now and then, when no expedition is really on foot, they make a sham of arresting a few men, who are liberated the next day on bail. But when anything is really in the wind they are as blind as moles. The late expedition against Prescott was fitted out in a port, where their Commander-in-Chief, General Wool, was. It sailed not on a dark night, but openly by day, in two schooners and a steamboat, with a great quantity of

54 Recovered material (EP): ‘Extract from ... another kind.’ I place this extract here in chronological sequence. Philips places this letter near the beginning of 1838 (after her notation based on Thomas Langton’s letter of 15 February 1838), even though it is dated December 1838. 55 Ogdensburg, New York, opposite Prescott, Ontario. John Langton is here referring to the Battle of the Windmill, at Prescott, in November.

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arms and ammunition and three cannon, but not a foot was astir. The next day Gen. Wool sent information to this side, and the day after, sent his steamer to see where they had gone to; of course knowing very well that in the meantime they had landed. The fighting at Prescott went on in sight of the opposite town of Ogdensburgh, where a great multitude were assembled on the bank to enjoy the spectacle, and responded to every shot from the sympathisers’ cannon by cheers. When the marauders are so openly countenanced by our friends opposite, in spite of the virtuous indignation of the Spectator, I can see no harm in treating the good people of Ogdensburgh to a spectacle of another kind.

Recto Running Head 197

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Extract from a Letter from Anne Langton, dated 1 January 1839 [...] John and Mr. Wallis returned in due time from Toronto, having the promise that the business they went upon should be attended to by Government.1 John seemed very glad to be at home again after his several rambles, and we were not less so to see him arrive. We had never been so long left to ourselves before. He reported Toronto to be as quiet as if there were no war in the country – no bustle and excitement, as at this time last year. How one becomes habituated to everything, even to war and tumult. The number of military, however, had exhausted the city; nothing was to be had. There were no candles in the capital of the province. John, however, procured some window-latches, so that string and nails are dismissed from some of our windows. Our drawing-room was just completed before Christmas Day, and I assure you no little admiration has been bestowed upon it. I do not mean by guests, though no doubt they did admire; but it was from our self-satisfied selves that the exclamation ‘what a pretty room!’ has burst forth, and a pretty room it most certainly is. The carpet looks uncommonly well, and it happens that the new hearth rug we brought out suits it as if it had been made to correspond. We have had book-shelves put up on each side of the window, which come down to the ground, and without taking much from the size of the room they give us a very snug appearance. John’s books as well as our own now adorn the room. The other bookcases we had a little lowered to admit of the busts being placed upon them. The tout

1 The ‘business’ was the settlers’ ongoing concern to establish a navigation system connecting the Kawartha Lakes district to Toronto and other markets in the south of the province.

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ensemble gives great satisfaction. The Christmas party was not very numerous. Mr. Fraser had just got his ‘company,’ and Mr. Need, his lieutenant, was also detained by his military duties. The latter was here one day in the preceding week, not a little repenting his forwardness to volunteer his services. However, he is an idle man at present, and it is only proper that he should go and represent the lakes’ region among the defenders of the country. Half a dozen gentlemen only were added to our own party on Christmas Day, and the usual round and repetition of dinners during the week did not take place, though the friends concluded the last year yesterday with Mr. Dennistoun, and commence the one today with Mr. Wallis. Before this time next year one of the bachelor friends will have become a Benedict.2 Mr. Dennistoun’s engagement to Miss Hamilton is declared to his friends.3 Miss Hamilton is at present at Peterboro. We asked Mrs. Hamilton to join the meeting on Christmas Day, but she declined, and indeed summer is, I think, a better time for ladies to visit each other in the country. I am, however, contemplating a drive down to the Dunsfords to pay my respects to the new-comers, and looking forward to the excursion with much pleasure. I have yet never been by land further than to the Daniels, about two miles off, and I shall like a little more extensive acquaintance with the Bush roads.4 If we accomplish this, as we intend, I shall record my opinion of a sleigh drive in my journal. I had so much pleasure in writing you one before that I intend now giving you a winter month, as I did an autumn one, and hope in the spring and summer to do the same. The two last months, November and December, were somewhat monotonous on the whole, affording no variety excepting in the domestic department, where variety is least of all agreeable. Our housemaid’s place, vacated early in November, was, after a time, filled up by a little girl of fourteen, strong and stout, and very capable of being made a good servant, but she and our two old people did not draw well together. Of course both parties were in fault, and we were the sufferers from the inharmonious kitchen. The crisis, however, came, and the old people left us. I was sorry in some respects, for though not altogether suiting us, we might have gone on quietly during the winter months. However, the old woman was evidently tired of service, and, I daresay, now is rejoicing in the tranquility of her own shanty, and 2 ‘a Benedict,’ presumably as with Benedict in Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure, who professes a lack of interest in marriage, then happily succumbs. 3 Miss Hamilton is Maxwell Hamilton, the eldest daughter of the late Major Hamilton of Cameron Lake. 4 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have yet ... one before ... ’

Letter from Anne Langton, 1 January 1839 199

perhaps also in the absence of her husband, who has enlisted, and was certainly something of a tyrant. Since that our little maiden has had the assistance of one of [William] Jordan’s daughters for two or three weeks, but we are contriving now to do without any. Our former servant, William, resumed his duties for a time and his elder brother George is performing them now. [...] Firing is a most troublesome part of housekeeping in this country, the drawing-in and cutting up of wood is endless. It is astonishing to see the piles that disappear in a day, but it must be so in such a climate as ours. Of course, this being our second winter, we are not expected to bear the cold quite as well as newcomers, but there are several reasons for our thinking more about it than last year. In the first place, the weather has been more severe, high winds have more generally prevailed with our sharpest frosts, and some of our rooms, too, owing to the shrinking and warping of wood, admit much more of the external air. My mother’s room we had not the least difficulty in keeping perfectly warm last winter. The water very seldom froze in it, and never in the recess beside the fire. Now, within two or three inches of the chimney, which feels quite warm to the touch, our water becomes ice, and notwithstanding an excellent fire night and day, the thermometer will remain sometimes ten, twelve or fifteen degrees below the freezing point. But this is on our colder days, and even then we have rarely been otherwise than warm in bed, though in covering we have never exceeded two blankets and the down quilt. I often admire the providential arrangement by which our blood continues to circulate when everything freezes about us. I selected our very sharpest frost in which to make a midnight excursion down to John’s house.5 The fact was we might easily have been too warm that night, for, owing, I believe, to a cinder having adhered to the hearth-brush, the floor in Aunt Alice’s room had taken fire, and though when I discovered it, shortly after John had left us, a few jugs of water were sufficient to extinguish it, yet we felt his presence desirable, both to reassure us respecting the danger of its having communicated to the lathing of the ceiling below, and, as owner of the premises, to look after the safety of his own property. The horn, our usual way of summoning him, failed to call his attention, so I sallied forth, and astonished him by my appearance.6 As I toiled up the hill again, mostly up to my knees in snow for it had been blowing and drifting all day, I experienced 5 Recovered material (EP): ‘I selected ... our control.’ 6 ‘The horn ... ’: this was the Langtons’ usual manner of arousing John’s attention without the need for them to walk down to this shanty – ineffective in this case, his doors and windows probably being firmly closed against the cold.

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what it is to lose your breath at ten or twenty below zero, and thought of my respirator. We were able to go to bed quite easy that night, and in thankfulness for our preservation. A little longer undiscovered, and the fire might have beyond our control.7 From the journal of Anne Langton, 1 January–2 February 1839 Tuesday, January 1. I am presuming that my October journal was interesting to you before I receive any assurance to that effect, and purpose giving you a January one not, however, I must confess, solely with a view to the pleasure of my brother and sister, but also of my own, for I had great enjoyment in a little daily converse with you.8 I find there are many little things one can mention the very day they occur without fearing that they will appear trifling, which after the lapse of a week, one would not think of recording, and just these trifles bring us more before you than more important, but more occasional events. For this reason I should like you to send me the same sort of journal occasionally; a great deal may be put in one sheet of paper, when the eyes that have to read it are not very bad.9 The first thing I saw on coming downstairs this morning was Sally Jordan milking the cows – where do you think? Exactly at the step of the front door; this is to enlighten you as to Canadian ideas of tidiness. I have seen all the sweepings from the up-stairs’ rooms ornamenting the snow before the front door. This was what I saw; my first occupation in the new year was assisting in getting three plum-puddings into the pot, for we entertain company in the kitchen on New Year’s Day. Our party, however, was very small, being only one family; the Menzies, who had been invited, preferring to have some of their own friends at home, and graciously promising to come some Sunday instead.10 Some of our puddings, therefore, were not for home consumption, but went, boiling in the pan, down the hill [to John’s cabin] to grace the other entertainments. I hope they were liked, I am sure that the one at home was, for never did pudding or cake receive handsomer compliment than that which was paid to those provided for the day. I wish everybody

7 The threat of fire was a constant anxiety for inhabitants of log homes. See Susanna Moodie’s account, ‘The Fire,’ in Roughing It in the Bush, of the fire that threatened her home and family. 8 Recovered material (EP): ‘... not, however ... not very bad.’ 9 There is no record of a reciprocal journal ever having been sent. 10 Recovered material (EP): ‘Our party ... dinner altogether!’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 January–2 February 1839 201

may sleep as well to-night as we have a right to hope, who, to give liberty in the kitchen omitted dinner altogether! Wednesday, January 2. The day has been so mild that I am in terrible apprehension of the January thaw commencing and interfering with our drive down to the Dunsfords, and if it does not take place this week, it will certainly not take place this month, and perhaps not this winter, for the accomplishment of it requires a combination of propitious circumstances. It is entirely the drive and not the call that I anticipate with pleasure. John, returned from the New Year’s celebration this morning, brought no news and no letter from England.11 There never was such a dull Christmas known in the country, for there is no whiskey either at tavern or store, and the people are all sober perforce! By the bye, they sell at the store about 4000 gallons of whiskey annually, besides which most of the gentlemen get up their own separately for the supply of themselves and work-people. I had Menzies’ two little girls for a lesson today. I have lately begun to teach them a little. They come for about an hour three times a week, as yet we are not at all perfect in our letters, and I sometimes feel that, unaccustomed as I am to teaching, I shall not accomplish much in my short schooling. But one good effect it appears to have, that they get a little more teaching at home. I hope this may continue, and then my own efforts will certainly not have been thrown away. My pupils are two very pretty little girls about five and seven, and sometimes recall to my mind the dear little girls at Seedley. My mother was ironing and I cooking a good part of the morning, and maybe such avocations will mingle a good deal with our employments at present, as our little servant Kitty is quite by herself. She makes great exertions, however, when everything depends upon her, especially if cheered by a little applause. Thursday, January 3. We have accomplished our drive down to the Dunsfords, and this is a weight off all our minds. It was on John’s as a thing that had to be done amongst other claims on himself and horses; on mine, as a thing that I was much afraid might, after all, not be; on my mother’s as what perhaps might not be done without damage to her precious daughter, in the way of coldtaking, or being shaken to pieces, and the relief to Aunt Alice was that we 11 H.H. Langton has an ellipsis at this point, but does not appear to have omitted any material, unless he was here working from his aunt’s original journals, not from Philips’s edition.

202 Journals and Letters, 1839

took back to his own house her old plague [the dog] ‘Mowbray,’ who had been an unwelcome visitor here for some time, preferring her unwilling hospitality (she is the dog-feeder) to his usual fare with his present master. The thermometer was high, and the snow quite too soft for very good sleighing, but as it will very probably be worse, we thought it best to set out. I felt a little like a child with a treat in prospect, and thought it was well worth staying at home for a long time to have a feeling so juvenile. John had often wished to drive a stranger on that road; he said I was not quite ‘green’ enough, for though the thing was new to me, I had too good a notion of the general rudeness of the country to be duly surprised. At any rate, I am now enlightened, for he gave me an abstract of a sleigh drive, including in our eighteen miles more adventures than he had ever had in one journey before. Iron and leather gave way many times in the jerks they got, but the sleigh-driver on a bush road is accustomed to patching and piecing his harness. I have heard that it is a positive pleasure to be thrown into the deep snow, and John also gratified me with an upset. I must say, the fall was soft and easy, but I was so enveloped in my long, fur cloak, that I scarcely knew how to get up again. By the bye, it was ten thousand pities that the thermometer was not below zero, and that so much good wrapping should, in a way, be thrown away.12 There is a good deal of snow on the ground now, and though soft and heavy for the horses, the sleighing to-day was by no means bad. I rather dread the coming thaw, for how the mountains of snow are to disappear without inundating us I can scarcely conceive. The snow upon the trees of the forest is often very curious, but the very high wind we have had since any fall, must have made their drapery more scanty than usual. The slightest spray is a sufficient framework for the snow to rest upon, and you often see masses and festoons suspended without any apparent support. I intend to have a drive to the Falls some day to see them with their winter decorations of icicles. I am afraid having had one ‘out[ing]’ I shall be getting restless. Our expedition occupied at the most six hours, including all detentions, and we must have sat better than one at the Dunsfords – I am now going to prepare wicks for candlemaking. Friday, January 4. Busy in the morning. ... I shall spare you the details. In the afternoon I made, with a very little assistance from George, seven and a half dozen of candles. [W]e have latterly made dip candles in preference to moulds, it is 12 Recovered material (EP): ‘Bye the bye ... getting restless.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 January–2 February 1839 203

much more agreeable to have one good making, and have done for a time, than be filling your moulds every day. A larger number of dips than I made to-day would have given very little more trouble, but my candle wicks did not hold out. I have got eleven candles to the pound, and I look with much complacency at my performance. I did not remark yesterday upon the necessity there is of keeping your eyes open on the Bush roads. Many are the boughs and branches that, displaced by the horses’ heads, come bounding back with double violence upon the occupiers of the sleigh, and sometimes a tree across the road requires your stooping very considerably to pass safely under it. Without constant attention you might get severely hurt. The thermometer continues to rise a little.13 I suppose that this will really prove [to be] the thaw which invariably occurs about this time, and the expectation of which generally stops travelling. Afterwards, I suppose, the frost will set in with redoubled vigour. My observations of the thermometer are not very early, it has generally risen considerably before I come downstairs. Mr. Dunsford had seen it 24 below zero last Sunday night, whilst at my morning observation it had risen to nine. John says Mr. Dunsford’s thermometer must be incorrect, as ours of last winter was. He has only seen it so low on one occasion since he came to the country, and that frost was very different from any there has been this winter, or any other but that of ’35–’36. Our two thermometers differ about three degrees at the freezing point, and about five at zero; the difference, of course, increasing as you descend still lower. We conclude that the one you sent us is the correct one. The hour before sunrise is generally the coldest in the twenty-four. Sunday, January 6. As Saturday night brings many little duties with it, I did not take out my journal, and indeed the day brought no incident with it worthy of record. Perhaps it may amuse Alice to hear that we are going to teach her Uncle John’s dog, ‘Rock’ to carry messages up and down the hill, and he received his first lesson yesterday, having a little packet tied around his neck at the cottage, and being sent up here, when he was immediately relieved from it, and rewarded with a mouthful of meat. He is very good and docile, but at present lazy and useless; it will be something gained if he can trot down the hill with a note and bring back an answer. John is gone up to the Falls this afternoon to be ready for the town meeting tomorrow morning. He is quite in doubt what to do about his journey to Peterboro, which should take place now, weather permitting, but whether this continuation of the mild weather 13 Recovered material (EP): ‘The thermometer ... bring back an answer.’

204 Journals and Letters, 1839

may be considered the thaw or not he cannot tell; if not, it has to come, for it never fails [...]14 There is very bad sleighing on the lake also; in consequence of a great deal of snow falling before the ice was very solid, there is water between the ice and snow, so that a very little real thaw would see the latter dissolved, and a fresh surface would be formed. This is of some consequence to John, for he purchased the crops at ‘Seringapatam’ from Mr. Hamilton, and has at present upwards of thirty sleigh-loads of hay on the other side of the lake.15 One of John’s objects in going to Peterboro now is to lay in provisions for summer. To the list of those already in store which my mother gave you has been added two pigs and another quarter of beef, and I hope shortly another fat pig of our own will be made into pork or bacon. I understand that Mr. Dennistoun’s marriage is not to take place for more than a year, a very unwise postponement, I should say. He still talks of visiting Scotland next year, and John and he may perhaps yet travel together. [...] Though this neighbourhood may not advance as rapidly as the sanguine once thought it would do, yet it seems beyond all danger of sharing the fate of the settlement on Lake Simcoe, which was much in vogue about the time John came out. Everyone who could leave it has left it, and the few who remain are said to be living in a miserable way, deeply in debt to the distillers. Monday, January 7. It is thawing at last to our heart’s content; a very few hours would have changed the face of the lake completely, and now I hope, if we have but some good hard frost before more snow, there will be sleighing on it. John will benefit on the one hand, but he will be taken in for another sleigh drive, as I begin to wish for the pleasure of skimming along a level surface, and I do not think it will content me to go over to ‘Seringapatam’ and come back on a load of hay. I wish Mrs. Fraser was at home to go and call upon. I cannot say that the thaw brings present comfort; it was almost one person’s work for half the day keeping the water mopped up in the kitchen, as the joining of that lower roof to the house is not perfect. However, there is an end of everything, even of the snow upon a house-top. It would take a

14 Recovered material (EP): ‘… weather permitting ... never fails.’ 15 Major Hamilton had named his property on Cameron Lake for the town of Seringapatam, near Mysore in southern India in recollection of his time of military service there. He may have taken part in the siege of Seringapatam (1798).

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 January–2 February 1839 205

much longer spell of this weather to reduce very apparently the ground’s covering, but the stumps have all lost the ‘iced plum-cake’ that surmounted each. The heavy rain has prevented John’s return from the Falls to-day, and of course the Peterboro journey will not take place just yet. The change of weather has made my mother very rheumatic, and she has a cold likewise. I must say my bodily feelings are more comfortable in thaw than in frost, independently of the degrees of heat and cold. Although this weather is likely to be of very short duration, we cannot help giving a thought to our shambles, with all its array of beef, pork, and venison. Tuesday, January 8. Freezing again hard this morning, to John’s great disappointment; another day’s thaw would perhaps have dissolved the wet snow on the lake entirely, and then the real ice would have risen to the top. Now there will be double ice again, and unless there is a good spell of frost before more snow, the lake will be worse than ever. John walked home from the Falls this morning. I took a walk as far as the Dukes’ to enquire after the baby, who had been an invalid, and to carry a small donation of clothing. It had rather weighed on my mother’s mind that she had so few opportunities for the exercise of charity, and she was somewhat pleased, I think, to hear that this family was a little complaining at being poorly off in some respects; but she has not had full satisfaction in her bounty, finding that they keep a servant. That should be a good land in which there is ‘neither poverty nor riches.’ My conscience has also been ill at ease on the same ground as my mother’s, and I thought of commissioning you to relieve it for me, and asking you (my sympathies are all with the shivering) to lay out a couple of pounds in red flannel petticoats. Aunt Alice has been very busy trying to dye a white one blue, but it is a failure. Wednesday, January 9. I have nothing to tell you to-night. The weather has been most unsatisfactory, nothing of a frost, and at last snow again. Lake travelling will be as bad as possible. I have been dipping into Laing’s Norway, a book John has been reading with great interest. He thinks if the Yankees take possession here we must go to Norway. It seems, indeed, to possess some wonderful advantages; that of being nearer home is not a little one. At that distance one might almost make an annual trip to see one’s friends in England.

206 Journals and Letters, 1839

This is post-day, but we have had no communication with the Falls; I wonder whether there is a letter for us or not.16 The interchange of letters seems very slow at present. The last letter we have had an answer to was written before the Regatta, an event quite belonging to bygone days.17 Thursday, January 10.18 I shall talk to you of nothing but the weather so long as it remains unsettled. We have another strong thaw, but we cannot hope it will effect what a continuation of the last might have done. The intervening frost has made the half-dissolved snow much more cold than it had been before; as ice, we cannot hope to see it disappear in any reasonable time, so a frost is most desired. Yesterday[’s] snow has, however, disappeared from the surface of the lake, and the woods have been reflected on the wet ice as in water, reminding us of our summer scene. [...] Friday, January 11. Disappointed to-day, five newspapers and not one letter; surely the next post will bring us one. [...] The most comfortable thing to-day is that I have a very nice baking, and there is nothing that affects the spirits more than the well or illrising of your bread. Our servant of last year, Mary, blessed with most admirable spirits, if her bread would not rise was the most melancholy creature imaginable. I quite understand it, now that the bread is my department. I rather like it, and think that if I lived next door to a baker, I would not buy my bread. Though I continue to patronise hop-rising, I bake a little with leaven also, for if it escapes all sourness it is decidedly the best bread. My mother and Aunt Alice were busy, amongst other things, packing up some bedding against John goes down to Peterboro. The last time he was there, he and Mr. Wallis hired a house, and intend to have nothing more to do with the Hotel. As they expected, some others of the neighbourhood have wished to join in the expense and the advantages, so that it is to become a sort of backwoodsman’s club-house. The rent is fifteen pounds, the first year’s rent to be laid out on a stable. There are four rooms and a kitchen. John and Mr. Wallis, as originators of the plan, intend to keep one room for their own exclusive use. They think that a man and his wife, for house-room and the use of the garden, will perform the services they will require, and on the whole expect that their visits to 16 Recovered material (EP): ‘This is ... bygone days.’ 17 ‘ ... before the Regatta ... ’: i.e., some five months earlier. 18 Recovered material (EP): ‘Thursday ... deal of harm.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 January–2 February 1839 207

Peterboro will be made at rather less expense, and certainly with much more comfort than hitherto. [...] To-night we have each been deep in our newspapers – the number was not so overwhelming as it sometimes is. [...]19 John takes the New York Albion, which contains a good deal of light reading. I take a Coburg one, The Church, edited by a clergyman, and of course the Peterboro one we have; so that with our English ones we ought to be pretty conversant with the sayings and doings of the day. I wish I may have to tell you that it freezes to-morrow. Saturday, January 12. Well! I had rather be a baker than a butcher. To-day’s occupations were very much in the line of the latter. In the first place, we had all our shambles meat to take down and examine. The damage was not very considerable, but the trouble was. However, the dogs are all rejoicing in a full meal, and will live well for a week to come – it is an ill wind that blows nobody good. We also cut up a quarter of beef. John was operator in chief, but the saw and the cleaver were also wielded by female hands. The kitchen scene would have entertained some of our English friends, and possibly shocked others. We have frost again at last, and a wind that would not disgrace Bootle.20 We shall not take very well to severe weather after the mildness of the last week. I was down at John’s to-day, and was surprised to see the marks of his snow-shoes, which I had walked up in by way of experiment about a month since; the snow was then very deep, and plenty has fallen since. Now there has been two or three days’ thaw, with a good deal of rain, and the ground peeps through in many places, yet there are the marks of the snow-shoes as distinct as ever. I did not get a tumble when I made one experiment of walking on snowshoes, though rather near it two or three times. I once thought of having a pair, but I think the chances of my requiring them are very small. I have little to take me out at all, and still less off the beaten track. The lake is in very nice order for walking, but the poor horses in their journeys for hay break through sadly. They were over both yesterday and to-day, and upset both times. Whilst writing of the present I have been talking of the past, and of very different scenes indeed – Rome, Naples, and Sorrento.21 How 19 Recovered material (EP): ‘Tonight ... freezes tomorrow.’ 20 Recovered material (EP): ‘We have frost ... distinct as ever.’ Bootle is situated on the River Mersey. Fall and winter winds can be especially sharp and cold along that estuary. 21 Recovered material (EP): ‘Whilst writing ... what a change!’

208 Journals and Letters, 1839

very different are the different portions of one’s life, and yet in some respects life is the same everywhere and at all times, a mixture of good and evil, and it is my belief that the compound varies less in its proportions than we are apt at first to think, excepting some very few periods, which perhaps every one must separate from the general course of his existence as seasons of peculiar trial, sometimes the reverse. [...] If all the sorrows, past, present, and future, of the happiest life could be presented to the mind in one idea, it would be an overwhelming one; but we have happiness in our ignorance and forgetfulness, the very imperfection of the mind is its protection. The tea tray has come in to relieve me from my moralising. Sunday, January 13. In continuation of my yesterday’s theme, I am not at all sure that my remarks on the uniformity in variety of life will hold good throughout. [...] For whatever may have been the accidental advantages of [our youth], in addition to all the natural and necessary ones belonging to our spring-time, there is one immense one to set against them all which we can never possess until we have trodden a considerable portion of our weary way – I mean experience; the composing effects of this are surely a great compensation for the departed joyousness of youth. But experience is now gained, yet the ills of life will be still accumulating around us, and our sources and faculties of enjoyment yet becoming fewer and weaker, what is there to prevent us from looking back with regret to the days that will be no more? – nothing but a more habitual practice of looking forward with a surer hope and an increase of that confidence which will never be disappointed. I have now done, and must beg to be excused the digression, in consideration of its being my first deviation from matter of fact. If I have been sermonising a little you must recollect that it is Sunday! A fine clear morning brought us a very good congregation. John has been over to the Falls since dinner, but he returned to tea. My mother has been reading over some old letters of her own to Aunt Alice, written when we were children; in one she says of me that I am so short, she begins to fear I shall be dwarfish – what a change! Monday, January 14. A lovely morning, a moderate frost, thermometer 18, with a bright sun. There had been a sprinkling of snow, just sufficient to take the slipperiness from the ice. It looked very inviting, and John offered to take a walk with me. So, soon after breakfast I equipped myself, and we set off at a brisk pace in the direction of Sturgeon Point. I told John he must never expect his wife to keep up with him as well as his sister. It was delightful walking on the

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 January–2 February 1839 209

lake, something like Southport sands in their best days.22 We followed the track of some wolves, which must have passed in front of the clearing this morning. The sleigh is passing to and from ‘Seringapatam’ with hay, and the road is wonderfully improved since Saturday, when the horses broke through at every step, and even sometimes the runners of the sleigh; now, only every now and then, a foot had gone through.23 As I have previously made you a partaker in all our hopes and fears, I must now call upon you to rejoice with us at the prospect of a good road. The frost appears to be strengthening; it is beautifully clear to-night, and three arches of the Aurora, one within the other, are displayed in the north. We have seen nothing so brilliant since the exhibitions of the Aurora during Regatta week. Tuesday, January 15. Another brilliant morning, but severe frost. John had one trip for hay before breakfast, and afterwards took another walk with me – not a very long one. We bent our steps in the contrary direction to yesterday. The wolves and foxes had been enjoying themselves as well as ever; I shall begin to be acquainted with the tracks of the beasts of the forest. I looked back at our own tracks, and wondered whether mine would be recognised as that of a woman, enveloped as are my feet in two pairs of stockings, a pair of socks, my house moccassins, and another pair over them. My head also has a better defence against cold than a bonnet. I manufactured for myself a fur cap which comes down over my forehead and ears; otherwise, except on occasion of a sleigh drive, I do not wrap up a bit more than at home. John is mending his moccassins to-night, and it strikes me that a few glovers’ needles would be a useful article to send us. He has filed a carpet needle for the present occasion into the proper angular shape. We are running short of large needles too, a paper of short thick ones, calculated to take a very strong thread, would be convenient. Wednesday, January 16. I had a new pupil to-day, a little girl of the Daniels, about ten years old. I scarcely yet know what her attainments are, for she was dreadfully frightened, and though she appeared to know scarcely more than her letters at first, I shall not think it all my own doing if I find that she can read at the end of a fortnight. I hope she will get some good from me, however, for she has nearly two miles to come for her lesson. 22 Southport: a seaside town in Lancashire, near Bootle. 23 Recovered material (EP): ‘The sleigh is passing ... Regatta week.’

210 Journals and Letters, 1839

I have just taken out the piece of work I began on board the Independence for you, in hopes of getting it completed before Mr. Atthill goes to England, and before the arrival of number ten enables me to commence in the staymaking line.24 My thoughts are all at the Falls to-day in the letter-bag, wondering what its contents may be. The weather continues beautiful, and the horses make three trips a day to ‘Seringapatam.’ Thursday, January 17. A strong fog rolled up the lake this morning, leaving a hoar-frost on the trees at the opposite side, whilst the forest on this side retains all its blackness. John is beginning to wish for snow again, as the lake is sufficiently strong to be uninjured by it, the roads would be greatly improved, and he would be able to get down to Peterboro. We have had no communication with the Falls, so have still the pleasure of expecting letters. I have no incident great or small wherewith to make to-day’s journal interesting. I shall be reduced to telling you what we have had for dinner. Our larder now allows plenty of variety in that meal. It is provoking that we should just have our best cheer at the season when we have no one to partake of it, and in summer, when we saw more company, and wished for something more than boiled or fried pork, we had to run the changes upon roast chicken, boiled chicken, hashed chicken, chicken rice, and chicken pie. I should say we used to get an accidental dish of fish when the Indians had been about. At present we do not shine much in the pudding line for want of eggs; and though our bread is super-excellent, butter at this season cannot be boasted of. By the bye, the Dunsfords laid in three hundred weight of butter for their winter supply, and consumed fifty pounds in three weeks. You see we gossip of each other’s affairs here as elsewhere. Friday, January 18. We have your letter of the 15th November to-day, acknowledging ours of 29th of September, and the parcel [delivered] by Mr. Toker. [...]25 Of course we have been talking and thinking about you ever since. We were quite aware, had John gone to England, some of his friends would have wondered, and perhaps censured; but it seems that his brother would have been one of them.26 It would, however, have been all our own

24 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have just taken ... expecting letters.’ 25 Recovered material (EP): ‘We have your letter ... ever since.’ 26 John Langton’s projected trip to England did not take place. See Anne Langton’s journal, 6 January 1839.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 January–2 February 1839 211

doing, my mother being the inventor and chief promoter of this plan. I still think if we, being pretty well, and feeling ourselves quite at home, and competent to manage all ordinary matters for ourselves, with willing friends at hand to assist us in case of extraordinary ones, should urge John to pay you two or three months’ visit as our proxy, he should not be blamed for acceding to it. [...] Alice, it appears, has grown more than we gave her credit for, as the moccassins did not fit.27 I can scarcely think of her and Ellen as anything different from what we left them, but I have formed a new picture of Anna Margaret.28 I wish I could see them all. [...] We have ten newspapers to-night, in which John and my mother are very deep. Aunt Alice is most diligently working a tea-pot rug. It is strange to see canvass work in her hands, but it is for use, and not for the amusement of the thing. She takes great interest in the brightness of the table. I am going to put away my journal and look over my Christmas bills. Saturday, January 19. I was so busy with my year’s accounts to-day that I let my bread burn. According to my theory I ought to be out of spirits, but I feel I have accomplished a good deal of work in another way, which I throw into the scale against heaviness of heart, and it maintains the balance. I am rather sick of that last word. My mother and I sat up till three o’clock last night talking over subjects suggested by your letter. It was so mild (it had been actually thawing) that we let our fire almost go out, and at eight o’clock the thermometer had nearly gone down to zero – it did so soon after. Whatever may be the changes of our English climate, they are not so great nor so rapid as those we have here. The Aurora has been rather bright to-night again. I have had an application to-day to take a new scholar, one of the Jordans, somewhat older, and I daresay more advanced than my other little pupils. I am now going to prepare our little supper. We always conclude the week with a glass of wine, and with ginger-bread, bun loaf, or something of that sort. Tuesday, January 22. My journal paused a couple of days in consequence of our excessive gaiety. On Sunday we, who have not had a caller since September, had two parties – the three gentlemen from Cameron’s Lake, and Mr. Boyd. The former we 27 Recovered material (EP): ‘Alice, it appears ... of that sort.’ 28 Anne had stood godmother to Anna Margaret just a few weeks before leaving for Canada. By January 1839 the child would have been nearly two years old.

212 Journals and Letters, 1839

regaled with rolled pig’s head, bread and butter, and bun loaf, and let them depart. The latter we prevailed upon to remain to dinner and to stay all night but it was with some difficulty. He is a most resolute home-stayer and a very industrious settler, and has chopped all his own land himself. Yesterday we had company at dinner again, the occasion of which was that Mr. M’Laren and Mr. Hutchinson were going down with John in his sleigh to Peterboro the next morning.29 We had a chatty evening, as we always have when the ‘Major’ is one of the party. Most of our backwoodsmen have some nickname amongst themselves, and ‘Major’ is that borne by M’Laren, which he gets so much more frequently than his own name, that I am always afraid I may some time so call him in his own person, which would be rather unladylike. [...] The two were off this morning, I fancy, about daylight. They have a bad day, I am sorry to say; it has been snowing day and night, and I think the road would be so heavy that they will scarcely reach Peterboro to-night. There is to be a ball at Peterboro this week, but none of our backwoodsmen intend to go. John will be on the spot, but he said he should not go. I think he may perhaps change his mind when the time comes. There seems to be more spirit among the ladies at present; two of the Miss Dunsfords are going down thirty miles to attend this ball. Mr. and Mrs. Dunsford have announced their intention of coming up here as soon as their horses are at liberty (now engaged in bringing up their possessions), meanwhile they appear rather impatient for a sleigh drive, as they were on the lake the other day, pushed by their men. The Dunsfords have Mr. Need’s book, so we have a chance of getting it.30 I am rather anxious to see what ‘the elegant and refined mind of the author’ has produced. These words have nearly become a nickname for Mr Need, but its inconvenient length will, I think, prevent it from permanently superseding the old one. I wonder whether John will be able to bring up [boxes] numbers nine and ten with him.31 We have never been apprised of their arrival at Coburg, but we ordered them [to be sent] there, and thence to Peterboro by the first opportunity. John thinks this will be his last visit to Peterboro this winter. We never ask him how long he is likely to be absent, it is much better both for him and us.

29 Recovered material (EP): ‘Yesterday we had ... reach Peterboro to-night.’ 30 Anne Langton here refers to Thomas Need’s account of his experiences, Six Years in the Bush. 31 Recovered material (EP): ‘I wonder...first opportunity.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 January–2 February 1839 213

Wednesday, January 23. This is the very coldest day we have had. Our thoughts turned immediately to our traveller, and we hoped he had not to drive into Peterboro this morning. The thermometer was twenty below zero, with a strong wind. It blew very hard during the night; the mercury stood only three degrees above zero in our room whilst we were dressing. At noon it rose to five, and once we contrived to raise it to eight, which is the utmost a good fire has been able to do for it. I wanted my mother to remain in bed till after breakfast, and likewise to come down and dress by the parlour fire, where it is much warmer, but she will not be petted. The temperature of Aunt Alice’s room is something higher than ours, but the thermometer fell there also to near zero at one time. It is the gable ends that are so dreadfully cold, being only of boards let into another like flooring, instead of logs and plaster; these shrink, and the lining ones also. Much of to-day has been spent in keeping ourselves warm, by which I do not mean standing or sitting over the fires, but going about piling wood upon them, and also with paste and brown paper seeking to keep out the cold wind. If I say much more I shall frighten you on our account.32 I must tell you then that the drawing-room is as warmable as ever, and [its chimney] does not smoke as it did last winter. When Aunt Alice and I were pasting up the wind-holes, my mother reproved us, saying it was ridiculous for people to come to Canada and not be able to bear a breath of air. She is determined not to be soft. All things are by comparison; after these frosts, when it is milder and I report the thermometer at nine or ten, my mother says, ‘Oh, dear! I am afraid it is going to thaw.’ You will perceive that all my thoughts run upon heat and cold today. Thursday, January 24. The event contradicted my assertion respecting the thermometer in our room, for in the evening it rose actually to twenty, in consequence partly, no doubt, of the wind having fallen, and partly owing to our having lighted the stove in my little room, which has not been done before, and part of the partition being only boards, a good deal of warmth would come through. These stoves are invaluable in a cold climate; I do not know what we should do without that [one] in the hall. This morning the thermometer stood out of

32 In her memoir, some forty years later, however, she admits that ‘[in 1837], it did seem a rash step for such a party to come out to such a place, but we were very careful in writing home to say as little of our difficulties as possible’ (Story, 71).

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doors at what it was yesterday in our room, in which it had now risen as high as eighteen, and the weather continues to become milder and we to think and talk less about it. We have had a little pig killed to-day, and are only waiting for a barrel of salt to kill a great one. This was school day; my new pupil is far in advance of the other children. My most distant scholars come twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, the little ones likewise on a Wednesday, as they are close at hand, and it is worth while coming up for an hour. My mother’s head is very rheumatic to-day; she keeps it well tied up. Friday, January 25. I have spent almost all the day at John’s, the latter part of it attended by Kitty, giving his house a good scrubbing, where I had been sweeping and tidying it beforehand. I came back with a strengthened conviction of the importance of woman, and congratulating myself, that though I might be an old maid I never could be an old bachelor. In summer we were able to send [one of the servants] down every morning, that he might have his bed made, and things made a little comfortable for him. Now he depends upon the occasional visits of the ladies, and these are less frequent than in the milder season. We have a change in the [household] administration today.33 George Dick leaves, and in his place we have taken an old soldier, old in years also, a poor solitary being who came out for his grant of land, but being unable to manage it by himself, he disposed of it to a neighbouring farmer, who was to keep him for the rest of his life. Such an arrangement was a bad foundation for a comfortable home, and I believe the old man is very glad to earn a little matter for himself. At present great activity is not required in our place. The Dicks are all together not worth their wages to us at this season, when the wood-cutting is the main work that has to be done; yet if the residue of their time were given to the farm, they would not be sufficiently on the premises. The ‘old gentleman’ as our girl calls him, is to receive women’s wages. We have only taken him for a month; he seems to think we shall consider him worth an advance after that time – we shall see. It is a curious climate; to-day it is actually thawing, and some of us complain of being hot! Monday, January 28. Another pause of two days, to be accounted for by the following details of them: Saturday was one of the busiest of busy days. In the first place, we

33 Recovered material (EP): ‘We have a change ... being hot!’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 January–2 February 1839 215

were both bakers and butchers, and the exercise of two such important callings filled up our morning. Soon after we had taken an early dinner, arrived John from Peterboro, announcing two other gentlemen as on their way, intending to reach us to dinner. So forthwith another meal was prepared, which, after waiting for our guests until near seven o’clock, we sat down to alone. An hour or two afterwards the travellers arrived, hungry of course, so the board was again spread with a substantial tea, accompanied by pork steaks. The morning had been warm and relaxing, but a strong wind sprung up towards evening, in fact it was a regular Saturday night, that is, blowing as hard as it could, and freezing harder and harder every minute.34 Such weather has perpetually been the conclusion of the week. After the gentlemen departed about midnight, we sat up till near two o’clock clearing out snowdrifts, etc., etc. It blew fiercely all night and all the next day. After prayers on Sunday morning Mr. Fortye and Mr. Ferguson resolved to pursue their journey to the Falls, but the road was reported impassable, so they remained quietly at John’s cottage until we summoned them to dinner.35 Some hours were again spent in clearing away snow, and endeavouring to make the house comfortable. The thermometer was never more than 3 below zero, but some of us felt the cold more than the severe frost of Wednesday, though that had been accompanied by a strong wind, but nothing to this one.36 I cannot give you an adequate description of the day. Old Edward, after contending with his spade against the overwhelming snowdrifts, was a perfect personification of winter. Hair, eyebrows, eyelashes, and everything that snow could cling to being perfectly white, all but his weather-beaten face looked like a complete incrustation. Towards evening the wind went somewhat down, and we had the satisfaction of seeing this morning bright and clear, and comparatively calm. The travellers departed after breakfast, and John with them. How they found the road I cannot say, bad I suppose, for they intended to get part of the way back to Peterboro to-night, and have not yet got thus far. The lake having become the road since the thaw, we are now in the way of passers to and fro, and are not likely to be as many weeks as we were in November and December without seeing an individual.

34 Recovered material, (EP): ‘The morning had ... snowdrifts, etc., etc..’ 35 Original notation (HHL), with reference to Mr Fortye: ‘Major Hamilton’s son-in-law.’ 36 Recovered material (EP): ‘The thermometer was ... but the snow.’

216 Journals and Letters, 1839

We wrote you a few hasty lines yesterday. Much of to-day has again been spent in putting things to rights after the intruder, by which I do not mean the company, but the snow. My mother has just closed Mr. Need’s book. It is a slight affair to have attracted so much notice, as from its mention in the periodicals it appears to have done, and I think he has been well paid for the trouble of putting it together – it is something of a puff. John says he should like to get the book that he might send it to you with annotations. Our friend does not seem likely to redeem the character of travellers in general. His deviations from the undeniable, however, are chiefly in the spirit of book-making. Many little incidents, which serve to render the work amusing, could scarcely be produced at all except as extracts from a diary, where it is manifestly necessary that the first person must be used, and not the third. Tuesday, January 29.37 The party from the Falls arrived about breakfast time, which meal, however, they had taken before starting, so the travellers proceeded forthwith, and John re-established himself at home. My mother is exercising her old talent of cold-nursing, for John has brought a bad one from the expedition. He is not a very tractable patient, and talks of going up to the Falls again tomorrow, where he has some expectation of meeting [boxes] numbers nine and ten. The weather, however, is now more moderate; we enjoy a reprieve exceedingly. This has been a delightful day for the parties assembling at Peterboro for the ball to-morrow; it was put off last week. Every one seems surprised at the Dunsford ladies making such a journey and taking up their abode at a wretched inn for the sake of attending one ball, where, moreover, they are perfect strangers. Wednesday, January 30. We have just been inspecting number nine. Number ten, it appears, is still at Whitby, and we are informed that the bundle of down is lost. It reached Kingston, but has not since been heard of. Much as it is to be regretted, if we were to lose a package, there was scarcely one that could have been more easily dispensed with. At least it is but one thing, whereas if all the sundries that have been spread before us to-day had disappeared, we should have had a very extensive loss. However, we need not quite despair of it. One small parcel we had sent out to John [before our own emigration] was a

37 Recovered material (EP): ‘Tuesday ... perfect strangers.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 January–2 February 1839 217

year and a half lost, yet appeared at last. Now let me thank you first for the merino cartoons, and for all your acceptable presents;38 and, secondly, for all the trouble you have had in supplying our various wants.39 Everything appears to be safe except the bugle, which has got a little crush, but I daresay may be repaired at Toronto. The gooseberries and currants are, of course, perfect ice. We expected the bottles would have been broken, but they are entire, and the cork only forced out of one. The stockings are a most seasonable supply. I felt, in surveying our possessions, as if we should never want anything again. One thing the house most certainly is supplied with during our occupation of it, and that is pie dishes. They are just what we wanted; the tin plates, too, are very nice, and also the little tea-boiler, from the expedition with which warmth will be obtained. We are all much pleased with Uncle Zachary’s picture.40 It is exceedingly like him, and will forthwith decorate the drawing-room. The cartoons will, I think, be diningroom ornaments; there certainly will not be such another house in the district. Aunt Alice is pleased with her pulpit cushion; in short, we are all pleased. Perhaps it is well that our pleasure does not come all at once, and that we still have number ten to look forward to. Some of its contents, however, begin to be a little wanted. Wednesday, January 31. We have been hanging our pictures. My Uncle Zachary looks beautiful just opposite to the drawing-room door, and the cartoons also look well in their places. I suppose it is a new method of mounting prints, at least I do not remember seeing any like them. They are very neat. You have sent us the sixth report of the British Association;41 we are still wanting the fifth. I do not know how it came that we were without it, for it must have been published long before we left. I have finished a rose and done three leaves of your screen to-night. You must not expect it to be a very perfect piece; my pattern is not first-rate, and is often unintelligible. Whether my alterations are always improvements or no is a question I cannot decide. I suppose, having given you thirty-one days’ journal, I ought to take my leave, but as I

38 39 40 41

‘merino cartoons’: probably preliminary designs for a tapestry, worked in merino wool. Recovered material (EP): ‘Now let me ... anything again.’ Recovered material (EP): ‘We are all ... as long as I can.’ The British Association was founded in York, England, in 1831. Its aim was to promote science and its connections with people ‘so that science and its applications become accessible to all.’ Annual meetings were held in various cities throughout the United Kingdom. See www.the-ba.net

218 Journals and Letters, 1839

have still a page and a half, and a day or two intervening before post-day, I will proceed with it as long as I can. Friday, February 1. This month is ushered in very busily.42 A pig was slaughtered to-day and my mother and I discovered that we are not quite perfect in our business yet, for the black puddings, which have rested with us for the first time, gave evidence of our inexperience. You think I must have become a very accomplished housekeeper.43 There are certainly many things I can do which I might never have learnt in England, but there are many more of which I remain more ignorant here than I should have done elsewhere, and much of what I do know would prove of little value where things are so differently conducted. I am going to exercise my skill in shaping a ham to-night. That I consider my special province. My mother shines in rolled pig’s head, and Aunt Alice in pork pies. Saturday, February 2. I now close my journal until the first of April, when I intend to give you another peep at us. Meanwhile I hope to hear you feel enlightened by my details.44 As long as you have anything to learn of ourselves and our abode, I flatter myself a sheet of this kind occasionally will prove interesting. When you are fully informed, if I have grown very fond of journalising, I must give you an account of thoughts and conversations. I think I have been very matter of fact hitherto. I shall leave the last page for my mother. She reads my journals always with interest. If the writing were not so small, I daresay you would have a few remarks across it [from her], but it will be quite sufficiently trying to your eyes as it is.45 Farewell, dear William and Margaret. God bless you both, and all that belong to you, and do not forget your affectionate sister, anne langton46 42 H.H. Langton begins the 1 February entry with what Philips has (and I retain) as the first sentence of Anne Langton’s entry for 2 February. Clearly this sentence should be placed at the beginning of the entry for February 2 – the last in the January journal – as it signals the close of this segment of her journal. 43 Recovered material (EP): ‘You think ... differently conducted.’ 44 Recovered material (EP): ‘Meanwhile I hope ... to recommence.’ 45 ‘across it from her’ i.e. by turning the page to write horizontally over Anne’s script. 46 H.H. Langton and E.J. Philips seldom include the writer’s signing off remarks or signature. When they do, we get glimpses of the strong bond of affection between the family members and a clearer impression of Anne Langton’s emotional state.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 April–1 May 1839 219

From the journal of Anne Langton, 1 April–1 May 1839 Monday, April 1. I can scarcely believe that three months have elapsed since I commenced my last journal, but so it is, and the period has arrived at which I promised to resume it. Meanwhile I have heard of the arrival of my first journal, and the acknowledgement of it encourages me to recommence. I do not think this month a very favourable one for the interest of the present sheet. John says it is the most disagreeable one of the whole year, because nothing can be done. But as it is well you should see us in all our varieties, I will not be deterred from giving you my quarterly communication. At any rate, the month has opened most beautifully; closing our eyes to the frozen lake, the snow, and the leafless trees, we might have thought it a summer’s day, and a warm one too,47 though two days ago my mother felt the cold more piercing than at any time during the winter. [...] The rapid transition to heat is, however, more trying, and my mother’s head has felt very much the oppressiveness of this day. Maggie Hamilton, who is still our guest, and I had a walk as far as Jordan’s to visit a scalded foot.48 I think without some such object we should never have waded through all the mud. [...] The roads are terrible at this season, the better parts of them somewhat reminding one of the dirty lanes near Blythe in the old world, whilst at other times one is indebted to some of the prostrate trees about for keeping one out of the deeper mire. The Jordan family are busy in the sugar-bush, where Maggie Hamilton and I visited them and their boiling kettles. The sap runs beautifully on such a day as this. I counted the drops in a minute at two or three trees, and found them [to] vary a good deal; the greatest number was 82. I drank a little of the sap in the most primitive of cups, the palm of my hand, and found it very cool and refreshing after a hot walk, though I thought it anything but pleasant when tasted under other circumstances. You who are an admirer of eau sucrée would, I daresay, approve. On our way we visited a family of new-comers, at present inhabiting Jordan’s old shanty, though preparing one on their own land about a mile distant. Their name is Ingram, and they come from Ireland. I like to make you acquainted with all 47 Recovered material (EP): ‘At any rate ... the mud [ ... ].’ 48 Maggie Hamilton was much younger than her siblings. She was about ten years old when she and the Langtons first met. A frequent visitor to Blythe Farm, she appears, to some extent, to have filled the role of surrogate grandchild and niece.

220 Journals and Letters, 1839

the dramatis personae of the place, and two of the junior [Ingram] branches visit me three times a week – a nice smiling girl about eight years old, and a boy somewhat younger, with whom I am going over all the ‘a-bs and b-cs’ that the others have done with. My other beginners are coming on very nicely. I give holidays this week, as it is Easter week.49 Tuesday, April 2. John arrived before breakfast from the Falls, where he had been attending upon the blacksmith yesterday. He reports sleighing to be on the eve of departure, and now that the boating season approaches, the subject of a regatta is renewed, and there seems no hesitation about another being got up this year. Some of the Cameron’s Lake gentlemen are building a boat in anticipation of it. John, with all hands and all the cattle, has been very busy preparing against the opening of the lake, filling the piers with stones. I hope they will now stand the break-up of the ice. Maggie worked as hard as anybody, and collected, John says, at least a ton of stones. She is a very fine girl, wild as the woods she has been brought up in, but very good-tempered, tractable, and companionable. [...] Her little affectionate ways often remind me of the gentle caresses of your little Alice, and a sigh escapes me. We ladies have been exceedingly busy getting up our muslins, a very difficult operation with arrowroot as a substitute for starch. Do not imagine that the latter article is not attainable here, but we do not approve of its blackishblue colour, and shall be glad to receive our supply from England. Wednesday, April 3. The weather continues most beautiful and summer-like, destroying the roads as fast as it can.50 No time to be lost if we [are to] restore Maggie [to her family] at all before the waters open. So we entered the sleigh for the last time this season. Of a sleigh journey in the present state of the roads you cannot form any conception. It is marvellous how wood and iron hold together, to say nothing of bones, as you are tossed up and down, driving right over everything that lies in your way, even to the stems of prostrate trees occasionally. The snow makes all comparatively smooth, but there is very little left now.

49 Recovered material (EP): ‘I give holidays ... escapes me.’ 50 Recovered material (EP): ‘The weather continues ... this season.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 April–1 May 1839 221

Thursday, April 4. Quite a summer’s day again, much more like June than April. [...]51 I could exult now in the superiority of our climate [to that of England] for one half of the year if mosquitos had not already been seen – not felt as yet. I purposed taking advantage of this holiday week to get well forward with work, but I have not done much. I made an attack upon my corsets to-day, however, and feel a little appalled at the difficulties before me. My mother and aunt have also been very busy preparing work in the upholstering line – sofa and chair-covers. It is well for us to get forward with necessary work, for Mr. Wallis threatens to find us some occupation this summer in preparing for a bazaar – not to be held in this country, you may suppose.52 He talks of going home next winter, and in that case would get up a bazaar at Glasgow for the benefit of church and school here. I daresay such a thing would answer very well, and a few hundred pounds would do a great deal of good here. Population is increasing fast, and there must be some means provided for the education of the rising generation, or we may fall back behind the Indians. Of course, if the plan is pursued, we shall all endeavour to send over what we can, and of course, too, your patronage will be solicited for this – I prepare you.53 It is curious how being really interested in the object alters one’s views with regard to bazaars. John, who used to be their great enemy, enters with much spirit into the idea of this, and has laid two or three plans for his own execution. I am to send sketches of log-houses and shanties, etc. I wish our scenes were more beautiful and the artist more skilful.54 We altered our breakfast hour for the summer this morning; now we assemble at half-past seven, and next week we begin dining in the middle of the day. Friday, April 5.55 Hotter and hotter still. I have nothing more to say of the day, which is very

51 Recovered material (EP): ‘Quite a summer’s ... felt as yet.’ 52 In fact, bazaars for charitable purposes did occur in Upper Canada from about this period. See McKenna, Life of Propriety, 235–6. 53 Recovered material (EP): ‘Of course, if ... his own execution.’ 54 H.H. Langton omits ‘and the artist more skilful’ – perhaps from the belief that his readers would view her work as ‘mere’ amateur ‘accomplishment.’ In his will, however, he left most of her art work to public institutions, a sign that he at least recognized their intrinsic value as historical records. See Wills, Toronto: Surrogate Court of York County, # 46603, MS 584, Reel 241, AO. 55 Recovered material (EP): ‘Friday ... almost every hour.’

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well, for as I am going to write you a letter to-night I shall be glad to be excused the journal. Sunday April 7. Yesterday being John’s birthday he entertained his friends, so I was pouring out tea and coffee when I should have been writing my journal. The dinner was down at the cottage. There seems a sort of fatality attending the dinners given there, for notwithstanding the beauty of the weather, only three out of the seven invited arrived. One was an invalid; others, I suppose, were not inclined to walk round the lake they were accustomed to cross. Those who did come were Mr. Wallis, Mr. Hamilton, and Mr. Beresford. This last is a cousin of the Hamiltons, a very young man lately come out to the country, and not yet, I suspect, reconciled to its climate. The viands prepared were more than sufficient for so small a number, which is unsatisfactory to the cookers of a feast, who like to see things pretty well eaten up. The party adjourned here in the evening. The Bazaar and the Regatta were the chief topics of conversation, and will remain so, I daresay, during the period of preparation for them. You know what an engrossing affair a bazaar is. We used to say last year a regatta was bad, or worse, and now we shall have both on our hands. However, the experience and labours of last year will not be lost, and the sails and flags are still there. I do not think our performance of [embroidering] the ‘Arms’ on a white silk flag was a very successful one; the white shield on a white ground was ineffective.56 Some of us, and I was of the number, objected to the mantle behind the shield on a flag which of itself should look light and fluttering. It was suggested that the motto should surround the shield in a garter, and thus allow of a little shade behind it, but this I suppose would not have been quite correct, and John did not approve it on that account. Give us your opinion on the subject.57 There was thunder in the night, and a good deal of wind to-day, so that the air has cooled, and we are enjoying a little fire this evening. The open water is increasing very considerably; we can see a difference almost every hour.

56 ‘Arms’: the Langton family coat-of-arms. 57 Any alteration in the representation of the coat-of-arms would, most likely, have been a breach of the rules of the College of Heraldry, the regulatory heraldic body in Britain. The family motto was ‘Loyal au Mort.’ William Langton became something of an expert on heraldry. See ‘Obituary,’ City News (Manchester), 1 October 1881; also, C.W. Sutton, ‘William Langton,’ Dictionary of National Biography (1892) 32: 573–4.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 April–1 May 1839 223

The lake, too, has risen very much, and now comes an anxious time for the pier. This is the third [pier] John has attempted, and if it does not stand, I think a fourth will not be tried, for everything has been done that can be done to make it secure. It will be a very great advantage to the landing, which is not a good one. There are no good ones on the lake. If it does stand, there is to be a boat-house in addition, which will also be a convenience, and, moreover, a great improvement to one of my contemplated sketches. I have two or three points chosen in this neighbourhood, besides some in other parts of the lake, which are of more dubious accomplishment. This winter chopping has made considerable alterations amongst the clearings to the back of us, but our panorama is very little changed. The butternut meadow to the right of our lake view is laid a little more open, and a few trees have been cut down on Dr. Diehl’s land,58 giving us a peep at the lake a little beyond the three tall pines. A much greater change, I hope, will be affected by the logging than by the chopping. John was just now wishing for fifty men and five yoke of oxen, but as he cannot have his wish, the wilderness of charred wood before us must disappear by degrees. Monday, April 8.59 Logging commenced to-day. We shall find great interest in observing the progress of the work, as it is directly in view of the house. John, who had dined at the Falls yesterday, came home in time to give the Alice a coat of paint. All this looks very spring-like. Within doors we were likewise preparing for the change of season, I darning some millions of little holes in our muslin curtains, my mother working hard at her sofa-cover. Aunt Alice walked down to John’s cottage to make straight after the derangement of Saturday. The weather is much more seasonable, fresh, but very fine, the lake still opening visibly, large islands of ice, detached from the sides, are floating down the current. We have a new inmate in the family to-night – a very pretty little cat. As I have but little to say of the human part of the family to-night, I may give you a dog and cat chapter, and then ‘you’ I think this time may mean Alice [Langton], whom I must call upon to sym-

58 Original notation (HHL): ‘Dr. Diehl’s land, occasionally alluded to, was Lot 15 in the Tenth Concession of the Township of Verulam. It was on the water front immediately south of the Langton water front and lay due west of the southern half of John Langton’s property, between the high ground on which Blythe was built and the lakeshore to the west. The owner never appeared and his land was eventually sold to John Langton, but it apparently continued to be spoken of as the Diehl Lot.’ 59 Recovered material (EP): ‘Monday ... bazaar work.’

224 Journals and Letters, 1839

pathise with us in the loss of sundry pets. In the first place ‘Juno,’ a dog of such lady-like manners and so sweet a disposition that John said he should like his wife to be just like her, accompanied his master to Peterboro, and there disappeared, probably having won the heart of some Indian hunter. Since that, ‘Fury’s’ successor on the hearth rug, ‘Nettle,’ accompanying John on an expedition, strayed, and has not been seen since; but we do not give her up for lost, though it may be some time before any one goes to that part of the country, where she has most probably met with hospitality in some shanty or other. Lastly, my mother’s pet cat, the greatest pet that ever was, has unaccountably disappeared. Notwithstanding all this, we are never without a sufficient number of animals about us. Our old friend ‘Mowbray’ is never very long without paying us a visit, though not the most welcome of guests, owing to his thieving propensities. This time, however, he has only emptied a sugar basin of its sugar, whereas the last time he broke the basin into the bargain. John’s cat is also a daily visitor, coming up as regularly as evening comes, and walking down with her master. Our new pussy, a great beauty, is just now tumbling in a basket beside the fire.60 As I expect you are all interested in these details, I promise to inform you on a future day how the stranger settles. John has commenced bazaar work. Tuesday, April 9. I am grieved to say the piers have given way to-day; there will be no boathouse this year, if ever, and the beautiful Alice must be exposed to the rays of a scorching sun. I suppose nothing will stand the force of the ice when it begins to move. I walked down to the lake to look at the damage. Within doors the day’s proceedings have been highly uninteresting. I have been cutting open a pair of my new shoes, lacing them up, and concealing the lacing with a row of little bows down the front. If the novel appearance attracts attention, and I am asked if such is the fashion, I shall say I have just got them from England. Wednesday, April 10. The piers are just a mass of ruin to-day.61 John says if he ever builds one again, it shall be within a sort of dock. Meanwhile the boats will be anchored in the bay, and the ‘coach’ enact the part of ferry boat to take us

60 Langton sent a sketch, Puss Asleep in Aunt Currer’s Work Basket, for the children, along with her current journal instalment. 61 Recovered material (EP): ‘The piers are ... have been worse.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 April–1 May 1839 225

to and from them. If the piers had stood now they [...] might perhaps have given way next season, which would have been worse. It has been raining heavily the greatest part of to-day, which will help the opening of the lakes. This event takes place rather early this year. The 12th of April is the soonest John has known it, the 7th of May the latest. Last spring water communication commenced on April 25th.62 The ice in its present state is in texture something like a honeycomb, so that when rain comes, and the cavities fill with water, the work of dissolution is very rapid, and sometimes the ice disappears so suddenly that the people here say it sinks. We ladies are all complaining of sore finger ends, some with upholstering, and some with stay-making. Thursday, April 11. What have I to record of this day? The bannisters have been put up, and we have been so long unaccustomed to anything of the sort, that when on the stairs we feel as if we were in a bird-cage. Rain came on again and put a stop to the logging, so the men came up to clean out our well, which makes a little confusion. In the kitchen it has been somewhat of a busy time this week. John’s housekeeping does not commence until next month, so we have the men to feed, and only one domestic. That one, however, is Mary, a none-such in the way of getting through work – would she were everything else! Kitty, who will be back again in a few days, I fancy, is but a child, but I do not think many girls of fourteen would have done as well for us this winter as she has done. Not that her capabilities are anything very great except in the cleaning way, and she is a capital scrubber, and so stout and strong that one did not feel that a little hard-working occasionally would do her any harm, as one would have done with most girls. I much doubt her temper agreeing with any companion in the kitchen, and a second servant we are on the look out for. We are not equal to the same exertion in the heat of summer, besides which occasional bustles are more frequent. Friday, April 12. This morning I thought there was as much ice on the lake as yesterday, but a breeze sprang up soon after breakfast and in a few minutes it had all floated down out of sight. There is not a vestige left, though I suppose lower down the lake will be still covered. [...] John has been preparing his canoe

62 Recovered material (EP): ‘Last spring ... stay-making.’

226 Journals and Letters, 1839

for a paddle up to the Falls to-morrow. I hope he will bring down some letters. The Falls I think must be fine at present, the lake is rising so rapidly.63 My walk [path] down to Sturgeon Point will be quite over-flowed. [...] Aunt Alice is discussing her poultry yard whilst I write. It is her entire charge, and begins now to repay her care. She brought in eleven eggs this morning, but now is ambitious of having a dozen as the produce of a day. In winter we were two or three months without seeing one, but another winter the hens will be more comfortably lodged, and perhaps supply us better. The poultry here must suffer dreadfully from the cold. It is quite a common thing for them to lose their toes. One of ours lost an entire foot, though it contrived to walk about very well with the stump and the half foot that remained on the other leg. Some of the more weakly birds were frozen to death. Saturday, April 13. This morning, in spite of a strong adverse wind, John set out in his canoe for the Falls. We watched him round the point, as we did many a time last year, and shall, I daresay, many a time this year. My mother felt a degree of anxiety on account of Cameron’s Lake ice coming down the stream, so it was very satisfactory to see him land an hour earlier than we had expected his return. He brings us more newspapers, but only one letter and that from Rosalie.64 She mentions her brother Jules having seen you in Manchester. You never named it. Is he at all like what he used to be? She gives no particular news, but says Yverdun is become an exceedingly quiet place, no foreigners at all reside there. I have been engaged this afternoon making up my remaining store of tallow into four dozen portly-looking dips, eight to the pound. My last making was twelve dozen, and I think the larger number is very much as quickly accomplished as the smaller one, for they gather more tallow when thoroughly cooled, so that with many I need not go through them so often as with few. Now that I know how to manage the matter I find it positively a cleanly operation. Mary looked horrified when I set up my apparatus in the kitchen, which had just received its Saturday polish, but I do not think she found it a bit worse when I had packed away my things again. The two elder ladies were still very busy upholstering. I do 63 Recovered material (EP): ‘The Falls ... over-flowed.’ 64 Recovered material (EP): ‘He brings ... reside there.’ Original notation (EP): ‘Rosalie Morel was Aunt Anne’s early companion and friend at Yverdun. They parted at the age of fourteen, but kept up a regular correspondence until Aunt Anne’s death in 1893. Rosalie died a year or two after.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 April–1 May 1839 227

not think any ladies on the lake have better fitting garments than our two arm-chairs. As the fine season approaches we begin to think of the entertainments we must give to the newcomers. You would have been amused to hear John and me discussing the important subject this morning, asking each other with perfect solemnity, as if we had fifty to choose out of, whom shall we have to meet the Dunsfords? Answer – Mr. Wallis and Mr. Dennistoun. And whom shall we have to meet the Dobbs? Answer – Mr. Dennistoun and Mr. Wallis. We cannot have the ladies to meet each other owing to our limited accommodation. Our little cat has taken the first opportunity to run away, which we do not much regret, for though a great beauty, it is evidently not of a tameable disposition, and a kitten of our own bringing up will suit us much better.65 Such an appendage to a household is an absolute requisite here, or the mice become very destructive. Provided as we have been, however, I never see any tokens of the little enemy. Sunday, April 14. We have had changes in the household to-day. Mary has departed, and Kitty has returned to her place, bringing with her another girl, as she knew we wanted a servant. After some deliberation we engaged her for a month, though by no means promising to be all we could wish in a servant. She is too young in the first place, only seventeen, whilst her companion is but fourteen or fifteen. But girls marry so early in this country, that a person of steady years is difficult to obtain, and one with any but the commonest sort of knowledge is quite out of the question. Perhaps this one may do as well as any other we should have got, though to you it must appear a curious way of engaging a domestic, simply on the recommendation of another. But here she was, some assistance we stood greatly in need of, with several work-people about [to be fed], and some of John’s valuable time will be saved by thus terminating the search. I will inform you on a future day how the stranger settles, and with more perfect reliance on the interest you will take in the subject than when the same promise related to the little cat.66 I hope the result will be different. The weather has been beautiful to-day. After dinner my mother for the first time equipped herself for a walk. We rambled down to the water’s edge, of course, as the newest thing to be seen. John got the Alice afloat, ready for an expedition to Ops to-morrow, and after visiting a young calf, inspecting the pig-styes, etc., we finished up by

65 Recovered material (EP): ‘Our little cat ... little enemy.’ 66 Recovered material (EP): ‘I will inform ... his sister.’

228 Journals and Letters, 1839

visiting John, and having a performance on the key bugle. He is not quite satisfied with his progress on the instrument, but it is too soon to despair. I think a quintette [sic] of two bugles and three voices would sound very sweet from Mr. Wallis and John in one canoe, and the three [elder] Miss Dunsfords in another. Monday, April 15. Many happy returns of the day to little Anna Margaret. I wonder how you are keeping her birthday, and whether she is yet your youngest. God bless you all from beginning to end. I have an addition to my children to-day, which I thought sufficiently numerous before, but a second Daniel (no quotation) is come to get a little learning along with his sister. John is off to Ops this morning, as also Mr. Wallis, both with their boats laden with sacks to bring corn out of Egypt. This day has been lovely. A coat of paint has been given to the exterior woodwork of the house, and the pump is put down in the kitchen, a perfect luxury after the slopping of buckets up and down a well. The first day of a new servant is always an uncommonly disagreeable day, and this has been by no means an exception, but I see no reason to think any worse of our speculation than I did yesterday. I have been just now engaged in killing mosquitoes on the windows. They come out early, which gives reason to hope that a sharp frost may make destruction amongst them. Last year at this time we had complete winter; now the cattle can pick up what almost keeps them. Good-night! We are just going to have some cake and wine in honour of your little two-year-old. Tuesday, April 16. We scarcely expected John at home last night, but he arrived just in time to drink his niece’s health.67 He brought ‘Nettle’ back with him. Aunt Alice’s greeting of the little animal was quite touching. She had vowed never to give her affections to another dog after losing ‘Fury,’ and would not acknowledge to have broken it; but on this occasion she betrayed herself. The important operation of laying out the grounds has commenced to-day. We have obtained a clever workman for about a week, but longer he is not to be had. Unfortunately workmen of any kind are hard to be met with at this busy season, or much might be accomplished in a short time under his direction. There will be some trifling alterations from the plan sent to you, of which you shall be duly informed. Spring-time makes busy work,

67 Recovered material (EP): ‘We scarcely ... betrayed herself.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 April–1 May 1839 229

notwithstanding the men and women about the house. John was to-day chopping firewood, I kneading bread, and the other ladies also busily occupied. This department of mine I intend now to resign, but to-day I had to pay the penalty of mismanaging matters so as to have to bake on a washing day. There is no unmixed good in this world. A wash-house, a boiler, and an oven are great comforts, but they consume an immensity of wood. We have been purchasing some small cakes of [maple] sugar for the bazaar today.68 It has not been at all a good sugar year; the hot weather put a stop to the run of sap, and though a good deal may be collected now again, it is too late for purity of taste. They say it tastes of the bud now. Wednesday, April 17. Your birthday, my dear William, you may believe is not forgotten amongst us. We each and all of us give you our very best wishes. How very limited are our means of adding to the happiness we desire for you! Yet indirectly, I believe, there may be many thoughts connected with the absent part of your family which will bring peace and comfort to your bosom. May the peace and happiness that blesses you be the most substantial and enduring of all peace and happiness. We have a return of winter to-day, though not very severe yet. John anticipates that, however, and would be glad to get it over before there is anything above ground. He has been preparing the glass for his hot-bed today. Within doors I have nothing to record but the dull routine of every day. I say I must go out in search of adventures, or you will tire of the sameness of my journal. As you must take an interest in the progress of the house, I may tell you that our porch door was put up to-day. We are now going to drink your health. Thursday, April 18. Nothing at all narratable to-day but the progress of the mansion. We go up a step to the front door now, instead of treading as hitherto on a block of wood. The entrance looks quite handsome, but the rude substitute for the correct thing had ceased to look amiss in my eyes. To have a very graphic description of things in the backwoods it should be given by a new-comer, the inconsistencies and incompletenesses become too familiar to be observed. As an instance of the former, I will tell you that in Mrs. Dobbs’ little drawing-room, which was very neatly set out with books, handsome work-boxes, and alabaster ornaments, there hung also a saddle. As an 68 Recovered material (EP): ‘We have been purchasing ... your health.’

230 Journals and Letters, 1839

instance of the latter I give you a sketch of one of the nearest objects to me at the present moment – our dining-room fireplace, where plaster, stones, and brickwork are very tastefully mingled, the tout ensemble being something much in advance of its appearance last year at this time.69 This, too, you must think harmonizes uncommonly well with a Turkey carpet! I rather think the interest of my sketches [for the bazaar], will be quite superseded by John’s handiwork. He is taxing his ingenuity for the bazaar, and producing models of things purely Canadian. He says he is afraid some of the rudeness necessary to correct representation may, by the uninitiated, be considered the clumsiness of the workman. I think his productions will look only too neat and nice.70 There will be something very novel about this bazaar, for, at least as far as we are concerned, it will be furnished chiefly by gentlemen. It may be called the Backwoodsmen’s bazaar. [...] Friday, April 19. We have seven men at work today; this looks like getting on. So many mouths make large bakings, and whilst superintending the operations at the oven to-day it occurred to me that a representation of it might add something to the interest of this stupid journal. Now I must go and see what the oven has been doing for me whilst I have been doing it so much honour. It has returned the compliment very handsomely. I dare not give any shading to this little sketch for fear of making matters worse.71 Like John, I am afraid it will be supposed the inexpertness of the artist has produced this confusion. But I am persuaded, could you view the spot with your own eyes, the wooden background would appear quite as inexplicable. This is newspaper day, I am sorry to say, not letter day. They are all busy informing themselves of the world’s doings, and I am about to follow the example.

69 Recovered material (EP): ‘As an instance of the latter ... Backwoodsmen’s bazaar.’ 70 Anne and John also produced a number of ‘Canadian’ items for their English nieces and nephews over the years. These included a model backwoods farm, a canoe, a toy sleigh, a snowshoe – the latter complete with artificial leg so that the children could see how to put it on. Anne made a moccasin for the foot. John made two marginal diagrams: one of a snowshoe, another of the tracks that it left in the snow. He enclosed instructions for putting on the snowshoes and observations about wearing them. Letter from John Langton to his brother William, 17 February 1845, 1, Correspondence, env. 3, JLff, F 1077, MU 1690, AO. 71 Recovered material (EP): ‘I dare not ... on that day.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 April–1 May 1839 231

Sunday, April 21. I wrote no journal yesterday. I must tell you that a very important event terminated the week’s proceedings. A little forest sprang up about us in the course of the day. It was a fortunate circumstance that we obtained other hands, and were thus enabled to advance things so as to get some planting done this season. The appearance of the place is already much changed and greatly improved, but of course we are indebted to the filling up of the imagination for completing the rough sketch. A few months will make the grass grow, and really when our trees are in leaf they will look respectable. John looks at all these improvements with great complacency. My mother and I have been sauntering about a little this afternoon contemplating the beauties of Blythe. I expect we shall be sowing seeds and rambling the woods for flower roots very soon. John is gone to the Falls. He frequently does so on a Sunday. Formerly he, Mr. Wallis, and Mr. Dennistoun dined with each other alternately on that day. [...] We had a long talk about former days last night, sitting up to a very improper hour to do justice to the theme, and coming to the conclusion that not many families have had more variety in their life than ours. It is not a monotonous world, whatever other complaints we may have to make against it. We have another addition to our large family, for next week the kitchen party will be ten, so that our two girls, and the mistresses too, will be pretty busy. Our new damsel is by no means promising, and both have to be perpetually reminded. The more we do it, the more they depend on us, and the less again we trust to them, so that, like the vibrations of a pendulum, the thing is kept up ad infinitum. Such as ours, I suppose, is the ordinary sort of Canadian servant. [...] At present our household would be a bustling one whatever sort of domestics we had, therefore it is less important. [...] It is very difficult to portion out the work of a cook and housemaid between two who are both of the genus ‘scullion.’ Excuse me if I entertain you too much with domestic matters, but my thoughts run a good deal upon them at the present. My mother, too, just looks off her book to ask what we must give the men for dinner to-morrow, to which I answer beef, pork, or both. We are well off for milk at present. Three cows have already calved, and we have churned four times. We did not begin until June last year, but this was in a great measure owing to the cows having strayed. I hope they will make no scapata this year. The woods will begin to be very tempting soon when the wild leeks spring up, at which time, if the cows are not carefully kept from them, the milk is untasteable. I have just detected a huge mosquito in the act of sucking my blood. This is the first bite, but, alas! the forerunner of innumerable ones. [...] It is hard to have one’s hands both chapped and mosquito

232 Journals and Letters, 1839

bitten at once, but the pickle-tub and the kneading trough this week, together with fire and wind, have made me suffer more from chapping than I have done except once before. Tuesday, April 23. I let my journal alone yesterday in order to let my matter accumulate. There was so little worth noticing in our proceedings. Levelling [of the ground] is the order of the day, and it is tedious work. I am sure the poor oxen must most cordially agree with me. I have felt quite sorry for them going up and down a short hill the whole day through. John set off to the Falls very early this morning, and returned towards evening with a scow load of trees. We shall begin to look quite umbrageous. We have already been making comparisons between this and the old Blythe, but except that both deal in gable-ends, two places could scarcely be much more dissimilar.72 I have had a very good day’s work at my corsets (this is addressed to Margaret exclusively). I have tried them on, and I call for your congratulations, as they fit very comfortably. In my present satisfaction I think I shall not be afraid of undertaking a pair again, but I may change my mind before I have stitched all my bastings. We have just got a large bell fixed on the roof of the kitchen, which gives it a rather knowing look. We had a flag-staff on the front gable-end last year, but one severe thunderstorm it entered John’s head that it might act as a conductor. It was accordingly taken down, and the house has looked sadly cropped since. I long for the leaves to be out so that I may send you a more favourable representation of our dwelling. But whenever I think of my sketching rambles I am obliged to take the mosquitos into my anticipation, as somewhat destructive of enjoyment. They have had several repasts already at my expense. Wednesday, April 24. This day has not been prolific in novelty, but I may mention three circumstances that I have omitted to notice before. First, the arrival of Mr. Jamieson at Peterboro, who consequently may be expected up here shortly; secondly the arrival of a much more important person, namely, a blacksmith. We have had one occasionally at the Falls, but now he is permanently settled. As you have never sent a horse five-and-twenty miles to be shod, or waited three or four months for some trifling yet perhaps essential

72 Recovered material (EP): ‘We have already ... circumstances that ... ’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 April–1 May 1839 233

performance of the furnace, I cannot expect you to understand what an advancement in the settlement we consider the establishment of this worthy amongst us. My third omission was a fact deserving the attention of your philosophical society.73 On Monday afternoon, there was observed by all the workmen a dark spot on the sun’s disk. That they did not draw our attention to it we all exceedingly regret, as the appearance must have been very extraordinary. The spot is described to have been about the size of a saucepan. [...] There was a ‘Bee’ to-day for making a road up to the church. The weather has been very unfavourable for the proceeding; we have had a regular summer thunderstorm.74 I wonder whether there is a letter for us at the Falls to-day; we begin to think one quite due. Friday, Apr 26. Last night I was so bent upon completing one half of my corsets, save the binding, that I did not take my pen in hand. You must think from my occasional mention of this piece of fancy-work that it is at least as tedious as a yard and a half square ottoman. But I have rarely taken my work out until after tea. Tea and candles generally come together, and then follows, or ought to follow, the journal, for if I put it off until later, it often happens, as last night, that I get engrossed with my needle until the word is spoken, ‘We had better go to bed.’ At that time we move, but it by no means follows that it is to our beds, or even to our chambers. The change is frequently merely from a circle round the table to a semicircle round the fire, and another half hour or more passes before we really begin to go, after which an inspection of the larder always precedes the final departure. So you see we are very little changed. The ‘scow-load’ of trees were planted yesterday, but make very little show. We mean to go on

73 Recovered material (EP): ‘My third ... of a saucepan.’ All of the Langtons were interested in natural phenomena, natural history, science, travel, exploration, as well as literature and history. Thomas had been a member of the Literary and Philosophical Society of Liverpool. John had written several papers on various aspects of Canadian history and natural history during his early settler years for his father to present before the society. William had become a member of the Manchester branch of the same society. John later became an active member of the Royal Canadian Institute and of the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec, of which he was president from 1862 to 1865. Over the years, topics covered in the papers that John wrote included the nature of wave formation, the characteristics of certain types of ice on the lake, the routes taken by early French explorers, and the importance to Upper Canada of such educational venues as Mechanics’ Institutes. 74 Recovered material (EP): ‘The weather has ... quite due.’

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by degrees, planting a little every spring and autumn, and in time we shall have a very pretty place. To-day I was tempted by an abundance of eggs to do a little in the confectionery line, and have manufactured some biscuits in imitation of some square sweet ones that you may remember we used to patronise at Bootle. They say I have been tolerably successful. We have had the telescope out to see if we could not descry the ‘saucepan’ on the face of the sun.75 There it was, handle and all, and I can well fancy that the sun being shorn of his beams, as the other evening, when he looked like a red ball in the heavens, it would be very well observed by the naked eye. I think I have seen a spot as large, but never so dark. We have had communication with the Falls to-day. The post brings nothing from England this week. Monday, April 29. I have omitted for two days to write my journal, not so much from the want of interest in the days’ transactions as from the peculiar interest of the evenings. Saturday was spent, as all Saturdays are, in bringing the business of the week to a convenient stopping-place, and yesterday, in all the quietness of a wet Sunday. But the evenings of both days were occupied in the perusal of some of John’s early letters from this country. Having since become somewhat acquainted with the dramatis personae, you may imagine me interested in returning to the early history of the settlement, and amused with comparing the ideas they had led me to form with actual impressions. Although I was hopeful at that time, and John confessedly too sanguine in some of his views, yet could I have had a vision of the appearance of things five years later, how thankful I should have been, and if I should have been so then, I hope I am so now. Draining and fencing are the present things in process, the ornamental pausing for a time. I do not know when so much labour has been bestowed upon the place as the last ten days, nor when ten days will produce such a great improvement again. John has been constructing a novel form of fence to-day, rather more substantial than the ordinary ones in the hopes of preventing the intrusion of Aunt Alice’s feathered friends. I am afraid her poultry yard and my mother’s garden will not be on the most amiable terms. There was great alarm about the cattle last night – they had strayed into the woods. However, they had the bell with them, and were found this morning, but their milk will not be usable for a day or two.

75 Recovered material (EP): ‘We have had...this week.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 April–1 May 1839 235

Tuesday, April 30. The month terminates as it began – beautifully. John has been as busy as possible in his garden all day.76 If the month has been a dull one for journalising, it is not, as was prophesied, because nothing could be done, but rather the reverse – too much has been going forward. John says he never was so advanced with spring work at this season before, and yet all the extra hands have been engaged in beautifying the place. [...] I have contrived very well to make my thirty days occupy about the right quantity of paper, and I have just left what may serve to reply to the letter which we surely must have by to-morrow’s post. [...] After talking to you every night for a month I feel an almost insuperable aversion to soliloquizing in my own private journal, which suffers accordingly.77 But a slight record I find most useful to fix dates and refer to occasionally.78 When there is but little to mark the time, one gets confused. I have said little of my mother’s occupations lately, for they have been very uniform. She has been determined to do her work very fully and completely, and, with some assistance from Aunt Alice, has manufactured a complete set of chair covers, sofa-covers, etc., and a second cover for each of the great chairs, besides refreshing all that wanted refreshing. Meanwhile I have been housekeeper-in-chief. Afterwards mantua-making must have its turn.79 Then we shall change places, and I shall preside at the needle. I must now take my leave of you until July, when I intend you to see something of our summer life. I am afraid my journals diminish in interest, at any rate I am sure there is a sad falling off in the writing.80 From my recollection of the first it was a very neat affair, and this [one] is much the reverse. Do you intend to comply with my request, and send a month’s journal, that we may see you a little in detail? I leave one page to answer tomorrow’s letter, and if we do not get one I have a great mind it shall go empty.81 – Ever, my dear brother and sister, most affectionately yours.

76 Recovered material (EP): ‘The month terminates ... beautifying the place.’ 77 Recovered material (EP): ‘After talking ... gets confused.’ 78 Langton is, then, also keeping a parallel ‘private’ journal. Yet her only extant journals, other than those for the years 1837–47, are the brief private holograph ones for the years 1821–37 and 1881–91 (referred to in the Introduction to the present work). When Langton comes to write the memoir The Story of Our Family, in 1879, she admits to relying, at times, on her earlier written records to ensure factual accuracy. It is possible that they, too, were kept only in brief ‘slight record’ note form. 79 Mantua: ‘a woman’s loose gown of the 17th–18th c.’ (OED). 80 Recovered material (EP): ‘I am afraid ... affectionately yours.’ 81 Original notation (EP): ‘N.B. There was no letter, and the last page is filled with a long list of commissions, chiefly garden seeds of various kinds.’

236 Journals and Letters, 1839

May 1 [Editorial note (EP): crossing the last page]. My journal missed the post owing to a storm we had on Sunday, a sort of miniature storm it would appear to you islanders. Nevertheless it unroofed our root-house, uprooted sundry trees, carried the cover of the hot-bed to a considerable distance, overthrew fences, and might have been the destruction of the Alice. She dragged her anchor, but happily fastened again when not more than her own length from the shore. We watched her anxiously for a couple of hours in this perilous situation, when the waves were much too high to allow of a canoe going out to her even at that short distance. At one time John was just going to take his canoe for the purpose, when the wind raised it up, turned it two or three times over, and deposited it amongst stumps and stones, so that it got sundry awful holes in its bottom. Meanwhile hands had been mustered to the number of four, and, taking advantage of a lull in the storm, the precious Alice was placed in safety on the sandy beach in the bay, at the cost of a mid-way wetting to all and a complete ducking to others. [...] It is to be hoped no other event will occur before post day to induce me to cross [this letter] any more. From the journal of Anne Langton, 1 July–4 August 1839 Monday, July 1. On entering upon this month’s journal allow me to say how much I have been gratified by the reception its predecessors have met with, and also express a hope that this may deserve the same approbation.82 It is to exhibit us under summer circumstances. The season has only just commenced; a week ago we were still enjoying fires, and notwithstanding our early spring, the country is in a very backward state, owing to the long continuance of high and cold winds. [...] [...] I am rather in expectation of a stupid month, partly because the last was a stirring one. I do not mean that we have been stirring, for not one of us has once moved from the clearing, but our little world has been stirring around us. [...] We had last week a large ‘Bee.’ At our little one last year to raise the root-house we had some ten or a dozen men, but this time there were near forty, and seven yoke of oxen. Six or seven acres were logged up during the day. We walked down to take a view of the black and busy scene. One ought to see at what cost of labour land is cleared to appreciate even

82 Recovered material (EP): ‘On entering ... circumstances.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 July–4 August 1839 237

our bustled prospect. I have another reason for apprehending a stupid month.83 We have just lost one of our servants, and not replaced her. Mary [Scarry] has been with us a few weeks, but was unable to remain from the same indisposition which obliged her to leave us last year in the hot season. The girl we have is an exceedingly quiet, good-tempered creature, and in her own department suits us very well, but she is not quite equal to the performance of double duties, and I hope they will not long rest upon her. There are four fishing lights on the lake to-night, which look very pretty moving up and down, but this holds out no prospect of a dish of fish tomorrow. The Indians find it more convenient to take their produce at once to the Falls where they have a certain sale for it. We are pulling very wry faces to-night at the mosquitos. [...] Tuesday, July 2. The first news this morning was bad news.84 The mother of our youngest brood of chickens had been destroyed by some unknown murderous creature in the defence of her little ones, which were all safe. Miss Currer, mistress of the poultry yard, immediately nominated me guardian. My mother strongly recommended the destruction of the chickens, as we have less time to bestow upon such nurslings than we used to have at Bootle. I acquiesced in the wisdom of the advice, but felt my honour concerned in the protection of the interesting orphans committed to my charge. So I rigged up a little mansion for them, where they are snug and comfortable, though not exactly very happy yet. We have been getting all our mosquito blinds into order; they have not been required hitherto, as there has been so little to induce us to sit with open windows. We have had [...] a thunderstorm today. The lake looked almost as black as my Japan ink, from which you may infer that the last-named is not exactly what it ought to be.85 I fancy it will not stand hard freezing. Our storm was accompanied by an abundance of rain, which has made my mother’s fresh-raked flower-beds look much blacker than my Japan ink, and the fields as bright as emeralds. The whole concluded with a fine clear sunset. My mother amused herself during the storm with repeating poetry, a thing I have not done this very long time. The old world is the world of romance and poetry. I daresay our lakes, waterfalls, rapids, canoes, forests, Indian encampments, sound very well to you dwellers in the suburbs of a manufacturing town; nevertheless I assure 83 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have another ... rest upon her.’ 84 Recovered material (EP): ‘The first news ... very happy yet.’ 85 Recovered material (EP): ‘The lake looked ... clear sunset.’

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you there cannot well be a more unpoetical and anti-romantic existence than ours. Wednesday, July 3.86 We sent early to the post this morning, for we feel more impatient for news when without our gentlemen. Ten newspapers were delivered to us, but that was not exactly what we wanted. However, my mother and Aunt Alice are both deep in them at present. I think the brute creation is [presently] more interesting than the human beings around us. I could give you a piece of pussy’s domestic history to-night, but as I was on the subject of chickens yesterday, I must refrain. Suffice it to say that an hour or so this morning was lost in observation. How the peculiarities of a family survive transplantation to another soil!! In the afternoon, judging the flies to be rather quiet, we sallied forth in a body to gather strawberries in John’s garden, and brought up something more than a quart, which to-morrow will be a pot of preserve. Do not laugh at our small doings. There is an abundance of strawberries in the clearing, if one could have patience and endurance to gather them. Thursday, July 4. We all joined in a little tirade against Canada this morning, my mother’s ground of complaint being the slovenly nature of its inhabitants, instanced by the scattering of lime and water over her flower-beds. Poor country! It bears the blame of all the various sins of the motley herd that inhabit it, besides the sins inherent in itself that it has to answer for. I grumbled a little at the necessity of storing all your summer provisions in the winter, and at the annoyance of unpacking and repacking barrels of pork, boiling brine, etc. Miss Currer never declines joining any one in a philippic.87 It has been cold and rainy again to-day, and we made a good fire to welcome John at home, who arrived from Peterboro to tea. He was accompanied by Mr. T. Fortun, a Peterboro swain, and Mr. McCall, late of Sturgeon lake, who, after a five years’ absence, I think, being settled at New York, is come up to see his old friends. A substantial tea-table was spread for the voyagers – cold ham, buttered eggs, tarts, cakes, etc. – soon after which the gentlemen retired, having left Peterboro at one in the morning. Our caterer I find, instead of a box of candles, has brought us a cask of tallow, much to

86 Recovered material (EP): ‘Wednesday ... gather them.’ 87 Recovered material (EP): ‘Miss Currer never ... in the morning.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 July–4 August 1839 239

our disappointment, having already abundance of work on hand. I have sometimes thought, and I may as well say it, now that it is grumbling day – woman is a bit of a slave in this country. Friday, July 5. The breakfast horn did not blow till late this morning, out of consideration for our sleepers below.88 After their departure John gave the last coat of paint to the Ninniwish, a skiff that he has had built this year for his own single use. The Thetis of last year was too heavy, and, moreover, is the boat that everybody comes to borrow. Ninniwish is the Indian name for ‘little swamp,’ or ‘little devil’ – I do not know which is the literal translation – and it is the lady-like denomination by which one of the Peterboro belles is known in the tribe. My mother and aunt preserved a quart of strawberries, which we had gathered in John’s garden, whilst my avocations elicited another mute invective against pork and pork-barrels, after which I set about reducing the cape and sleeves of a gown to modern dimensions. Perhaps you may think this an unnecessary labour in the backwoods of Canada!89 Saturday, July 6.90 The occupations of this day very various, winding up the affairs of the week. At one time I might have been seen perched upon the roof of the kitchen, where the fixing of a mosquito blind took me. I discovered that I had once been younger, namely, in [...] our Champitet [sic] exploits;91 nothing very extraordinary, seeing that I kept my 35th birthday last month, and may now sing with Dante nel mezzo del camin de [sic] nostra vita, etc.92 I paid John a visit in the barn, where he was up to his ears in black and green paint, beautifying the Alice, and afterwards put the green braid on to a boating dress for him, made after the fashion of the navy frocks, though different colours. This reminds me that I have never sent you [a sketch of] a

88 Recovered material (EP): ‘The breakfast horn ... in the tribe.’ 89 On the significance of keeping up with fashion, as found in early women diarists’ writings, Blodgett notes: ‘If beauty fascinates, so does dress (fashion) and like looks forms part of their [women diarists’] automatic response system’ (Centuries of Female Days, 123). 90 Recovered material (EP): ‘Saturday ... the stranger.’ 91 ‘Champitet’: a reference to the country house near Yverdon, Switzerland, where the Langtons lived en pension for part of 1816 and during the summer of 1817. 92 ‘nel mezzo del cammin …’: the opening line of ‘Il Inferno,’ the first book of Dante’s poem, La Divina Commedia.

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backwoodsman in his summer costume, but I do not promise to use my pencil again until we procure another servant. Sunday, July 7. We were in expectation of Mr. Need dining with us to-day, but he has not arrived, as has been very frequently the case on former occasions. It is rather a long way to come to dinner, but this time we expected him for two dinners, as to-morrow the party from the Falls are to be here – a party made for Mr. McCall, the stranger. The mosquitoes are sailing about in all directions, and make a great commotion against us, producing some exclamations, jumps, clapping of hands, etc. It is no joke to anyone to be so worried, but to my mother it is a very serious annoyance. The bites inflame exceedingly with her, and sometimes even produce something in the nature of prickly heat, but this I think is due more to the black fly than the mosquito, and most happily that insect does not often come into the house, so that by keeping a close prisoner you can escape it. The mark, too, of the black fly is much more disfiguring, resembling much a little leech bite, the first prick being less painful. The blood is sometimes streaming from you in various directions before you are aware that you are much bitten. You would not readily imagine the amount of resolution it requires to sit still making a sketch when the flies are bad. The mosquitoes will bite through almost anything, and the black flies are most ingenious in finding their way through all defences, and once within the folds of a closely tied handkerchief they do more mischief than if you had left them free access. If John takes up my journal I expect he will quiz my long dissertation on flies. He is often inclined to laugh at us. He does not suffer as much as we do from the duration of the bites, which he attributes to his greater degree of patience; but I am perfectly certain the effect is various in different persons.93 After sketching one afternoon I counted thirty-eight bites on one foot, and twenty-six on the other, to say nothing of hands, face, neck, etc. I begin to think myself that I have dwelt rather too long on this important subject, so I will wish you good-night, hoping that to-morrow may produce something better to entertain you with. Tuesday, July 9. Yesterday we had a piping hot morning, which made the culinary operations of the day appear rather formidable. Fortunately a storm came on, or

93 Recovered material (EP): ‘He does not suffer ... entertain you with.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 July–4 August 1839 241

rather a succession of storms, which, as they did not deter the guests from coming, suited us very well. These were Mr. Wallis, Mr. Jamieson, Mr. M’Laren, Mr. McCall, and Mr. Tom Fortye.94 This last is a brother of the Mr. Fortye who married Miss Hamilton. [...] The dinner served up to these illustrious personages was soup at the top, removed by (I am told) a very bad curry of my manufacture, boiled pork at the bottom, fried pork and ham at the two sides. Second course, pudding and tart. My biscuits, I presume, which appeared at dessert, were better than my curry; at any rate such ample justice was done to them that I am encouraged to give you the receipt – 4 oz. of white sugar with as much water as will dissolve it, 4 oz. of clarified butter. This mixture to be poured hot upon 4 eggs, beating it up until a little cool. Throw in a few carroway [sic] seeds, and stir in as much flour as will make it into a stiff paste. Roll it and fold it as often as your patience will allow you. Bake it in cakes about the thickness of two halfcrowns, which must be pricked.95 In the evening we had a card table. Miss Currer, Mr. Jamieson, Mr. M’Laren, and John sat down to it. The two young men entertained each other on the sofa, whilst Mr. Wallis, my mother, and I discussed various important and unimportant matters. Amongst the former were the flies in all their varieties, their attacks upon the human species, effects of the same, etc., etc., etc., as unfailing a topic, and much more inexhaustible as the weather at home. I have heard the subject discussed in a variety of ways, but Mr. Dunsford’s observation was novel, ‘If anything could make me swear it would be the flies.’96 This morning, after breakfast was concluded, John accompanied the whole party down in the scow to near Sturgeon Point to collect gravel for Mr. Wallis’ improvements. I expect we shall see great changes at his place; he has been rough-casting the outside of his house. [...] My school assembled in the afternoon, but we all felt the weather. I was sleepy, and the children were languid. I had a new scholar, a girl of ten or twelve years of age, not yet perfect in her letters. And now I think my number is up. When more come on I must turn some of the old ones off, unless I can introduce the mutual instruction system, or, as I cannot well

94 Original notation (HHL): ‘McCall had been an original settler on the south side of Sturgeon Lake, alongside of McAndrew and Macredie, thus completing “the three Macs,” but he had given up his land five years before this and gone to New York. He was now paying a holiday visit to his old friends in the neighbourhood.’ 95 ‘two half-crowns’: these coins would together have measured about 0.5 centimetres in thickness. 96 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have heard ... very sultry.’

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extend my school hours, the benefit to each individual must be necessarily diminished by an increase of numbers. At present if the amount of good gained in a lesson is not very great, at any rate they are put into the way of learning, and rendered capable of improving themselves. I have one very neat worker, a little girl about eight years old, whom I can already trust to stitch John’s shirt necks, and give her any straightforward piece of work to take home, which may be a convenience sometimes, whilst she is well pleased to earn a little matter.97 Wednesday, July 10. After the regular duties of the day were over, I set about the manufacture of a bonnet for my mother, almost my first attempt in this line, for I do not reckon anything of covering one. My only other was the one I made last year for myself of lining calico, the whole concern worth a shilling or eighteen-pence, but it looked so respectable that I wore little else the whole summer. In the evening I went down to see the launch of the Ninniwish, a skiff John has built for his own single use. For the first time I was conscious of doing a thing for the sake of the journal, and I believe I exerted myself to put away my millinery in time to meet the boat at the landing for the sake of having an incident to record. [...]98 I had time for a blow on John’s bugle whilst he finished his preparations, and, moreover, to see the boat weighed. The result was 128 lbs. After witnessing the launch, rather a different spectacle to that of the Thunderer, and seeing the débutante on her way to the Falls, I came up to bestow whiskey on the men, wherewith to drink success to the Ninniwish. The reflections on the lake were beautiful at sunset, and the lightning is now brilliant. Thursday, July 11. ... Our breakfast table was graced this morning with eighteen newspapers, and, what was much better, with five English letters, yours of the 11th June amongst them. As that part of the day not occupied by the perusal of these interesting despatches was dull enough, I shall devote a page to comment and reply. In the first place, do not send me out any portable musical instrument. There has been time and money enough already spent on me. [...] The day may come when the first of these at least may be of less consequence than at present, and then I can make the experiment of how much

97 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have one ... little matter.’ 98 Recovered material (EP): ‘For the first time ... now brilliant.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 July–4 August 1839 243

music there is left in my soul. Meanwhile at concerts there must be listeners, and I am content to be one. I am afraid I shall not be able to send an old shoe, I never have any. The article is in great request among the servants, and my remaining pair of well-fitting ones are too precious to part with. I am not, however, so badly off in that department as I feared. Some of the boots and shoes I thought unwearable when my foot had been expanding in moccassins, I can wear now. They tire me in the long-run but do not hurt, so I can wear them very well occasionally. Some I have disposed of, others altered to fit, so that the actual loss is not very great, and in case of failure this time I will try a new Store at Peterboro, where, I understand, they have nice shoes – rather dear, I daresay. We have just packed a basket of prog for the gentlemen tomorrow. Friday, July 12. A comfortless rainy morning, nevertheless the young men departed on their expedition.99 It has been so cold that I could have enjoyed a fire at most times of the day. The temperature is more agreeable this evening. I did not think there had been such un-summer-like summers in this country. We took advantage of being exclusively females at home to turn part of the house inside out, and what with preserving a few more strawberries and other female occupations, another day has passed over our heads. My mother is beginning a letter to you to-night. We thought we had heard of a servant a day or two ago, but it proves a disappointment.100 I do not like to see the summer slipping away and we remaining in this unsettled state. Saturday, July 13.101 John returned from his expedition in the evening, Mr. Fortun having proceeded to his quarters at the Falls. Nettle had been one of party, and had scarcely been an hour at home when she pupped. The object of this journey was to bring up a boat belonging to Mr. F., which is to play a part at the Regatta. I take credit to myself for getting through twelve days’ journal without once writing the word regatta, a sound which must vibrate on the air of these lakes some hundred and fifty times a day. On Cameron’s Lake it 99 Recovered material (EP): ‘Friday, ... unsettled state.’ 100 Perhaps this situation explains why there is no extant portrait of ‘Backwoodsman in his summer costume.’ See Langton’s earlier statement (6 July 1839) with respect to lack of domestic help preventing her from sketching this particular subject. 101 Recovered material (EP): ‘John returned ... at the Regatta.’

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has been the topic for the last three months. We are only just getting drawn in. [...] The Regatta, together with the steamboat at the Falls standing still, and the ship-carpenters being unemployed, has led to the building of several new boats, and very much increased our navy. The merits, expectations, and adventures of the Calypso, the Waterwitch, the Wave, the Coquette, etc., form interesting variations to the theme. [...] The business of this day has afforded nothing interesting, so I will take another portion of your letter to discuss, and as I have been in the millinery line, finishing my mother’s bonnet, it shall be the fashions, and I will thank you, Margaret, for your information concerning them, and beg it may be renewed from time to time.102 It is highly satisfactory to feel that one has been in the right way, and if it never happens to be the case, it matters very little. Thank you also for enabling me to attire myself in fashionable materials. [...] Sunday, July 14. We had an exceedingly small congregation to-day, and it assembled very late. There is a difficulty in getting any regularity to an hour where there are no watches, or village clocks, or church bells. This I feel exceedingly in my school, but I believe it is an irremediable inconvenience. After church I added a few lines to my mother’s letter before John departed for the Falls, and after dinner took my book, but alas! read very little.103 I do not often resist sleep on a Sunday afternoon, because experience has taught me that a very short nap saves me from a long struggle, and makes my reading infinitely more profitable. But to-day I took my book into quite too comfortable position, and spent a very improper time in oblivion. I enjoyed a long connected dream all about you and yours. When I went to order tea, I found Bridget in the same happy state from which I had recently aroused myself, and had such a fellow-feeling for her that I set the kettle on in order not to wake her till it boiled. It is blowing rather cold to-night. How different from last year! The mosquitos, however, are always tolerably quiet in this chilly weather, which reconciles me to it. [...] Monday, July 15. I scarcely know what to tell you of to-day. Miss Currer has been as busy as possible superintending two little workmen she had engaged to do her

102 Recovered material (EP): ‘The business ... fashionable materials.’ 103 Recovered material (EP): ‘After church ... had dispersed.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 July–4 August 1839 245

poultry yard, which has been somewhat a rubbishy place since the pig-styes, etc., were built.104 Besides this, there was nothing much out of the usual course, except [...] the last transaction of the day which was very unusual, namely writing a note of invitation. We have at last asked the Dunsfords for Saturday, thinking it would be a convenience, at least to the elders of the family, to find themselves so much nearer church on Sunday morning.105 The gentleman who will do the duty is only a deacon, therefore Mr [Reverend] Dunsford will be asked to assist in order that the Sacrament may be administered. Tuesday, July 16. John set out early this morning to take our note to the Dunsfords. [...] My chief occupation was rigging myself up a morning gown out of one of my mother’s, and making a collar to it out of superfluous sleeves.106 My mother handled the hoe instead of the needle, and was engaged for some time in trimming up her front garden. In the evening it was so calm that it was thought a favourable time for firing the log heaps running beneath the belt of young trees between us and the lake.107 We have always known that whenever this is done it would be at considerable risk to what we have considered one of our chief ornaments. I walked down before dark to where a score of piles were blazing, hoping that a more perfect acquaintance with their situations would tranquillize my fears. But I found it otherwise, and could not help regarding our favourite trees in great danger. About ten, the fires were burning so splendidly that we all sallied forth for a nearer inspection of the scene. It would have been a fine one if divested of all idea of mischief. [...] I expect my mother will dream of it, and I wish the master were at home, though his presence would not help to save the trees. Wednesday, July 17. John returned this morning. [...] He found Mr. Dunsford was gone to Toronto, therefore had not delivered our note, but we still purpose offering

104 Recovered material (EP): ‘Miss Currer ... usual course … ’ 105 The Langtons are returning the invitation and hospitality that the Dunsfords had proffered to them six months earlier. For the significance and attendant etiquette of social calls among the elite, see Errington, Wives and Mothers, 162. 106 Vickery writes of the significance of ‘plain sewing’ in the thrifty economy of a genteel British household. Such sewing included repairing, unpicking and refashioning of garments (Gentleman’s Daughter, 151). 107 Recovered material (EP): ‘In the evening ... save the trees.’

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accommodation to some of the ladies. My mother was in her element today, tidying away the rubbish of the joiner’s shop, the accumulation of ages. Miss Currer stuffed a pillow with feathers off the farm. The geese, however, were given up this year, they were so perpetually getting into the garden. I brought my gown to a conclusion, but am not at all satisfied with the performance. If, however, I have not succeeded in fashionizing [sic] the sleeves very gracefully, I have at least attained the object of the alteration, and got a neat little cape out of them. And now, before getting into bed, I will describe that operation to you.108 In the first place I stand upon the bed, and with my handkerchief dash up and down about the hangings – this to eject the housefly. Meanwhile my mother loosens the mosquito curtains, and at last drops them suddenly whilst I am continuing my operations. She then hands me the candle within, and I commence an inspection of the interior to see if any mosquitos may yet be lurking among the folds of our draperies. Notwithstanding all these precautions we not unfrequently find we have enclosed an enemy within the defences. The mosquitos are very numerous to-night. They vary exceedingly from day to day, and latterly we have had so few that we have grown careless about windows and doors. The trees we were so anxious about last night appear to have stood their roasting wonderfully. Thursday, July 18. This morning, after sundry deliberations concerning the wind, and whether the southerly direction was likely to bring rain soon or not, it was determined that John and I should set out to carry our invitation [...] to the Dunsfords. Accordingly I embarked for the first time on board the Ninniwish, and a very nice little boat it is, but I rather prefer a canoe for an expedition of moderate length. I don’t know how I should bear the kneeling position for three or four hours in a canoe. I can take a paddle, and at least flatter myself that I do some little good, which is more agreeable than sitting in state at one end of the boat, and having nothing to do but observe my companion’s exertions. But my canoeing days are over. John does not like the responsibility of taking me out in one, and thinks it altogether an unfit conveyance for so helpless a being as woman. I, having a due value for my precious life, should be sorry to urge the risk of it, but I am rather glad the idea did not spring up earlier. After we turned Sturgeon Point the wind was favourable. We put up a small sail, and proceeded more

108 Recovered material (EP): ‘And now, before ... roasting wonderfully.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 July–4 August 1839 247

swiftly and easily on our voyage. It was the first time that I had been lower down than the Point since we came up – now almost two years ago. I think the lower part of the lake, upon the whole, superior to our end in point of beauty. Both shores are pretty, and the islands make an agreeable variety. Though at our end our own side is inferior to no part of the lake, the opposite coast is very monotonous. Mr. Dunsford’s new house is a conspicuous object all the way down, and, I daresay, itself commands a fine view, but it will be two or three months more, I fancy, before they will be able to get into it. We found the ladies luxuriating in the absence of all domestics, a variety of not unfrequent enjoyment in the backwoods. Their servant had taken her departure early one morning before the family were up, and since that [day,] the young ladies were taking it in turn to bake bread, make puddings, etc., and perform all the labours of the household. We can speak for the skill they have acquired in the first-named operation, for nicer bread was never laid on Canadian table than they placed before us, not even my own! After we had done justice to it, Mrs. Dunsford provided a further entertainment of harp and piano to enliven us during a thunderstorm. Our invitation was not accepted, which on some accounts I did not regret. We afterwards crossed the lake to Mr. Fraser’s. He was absent, but we found his nice little wife at home and gave them the invitation just declined by the Dunsfords, which was conditionally accepted. Here, I saw and smelled the first roses since I came to Canada. Their little cottage is very pretty, with the wild vine and roses round the pillars of the verandah, and something more like a garden in front of it than can be elsewhere seen in these parts. We spent an hour or two very pleasantly with Mrs. Fraser. She is a very pleasing, unaffected person, and when we departed I wished she was nearer to us. Four hours’ pulling against adverse wind brought us to our own landing just about sunset, and all the familiar objects about my home seemed to greet me with the same sort of old acquaintanceship as formerly after a long journey and an absence of weeks. Monday, July 22. I had just put the date of Friday when something, I presume, prevented my writing my journal, and behold! three days have elapsed without a line.109 I will not pretend to bring up the arrears very particularly. The transactions of Friday were, I believe, not worth bearing in mind. Saturday was partly spent in the usual avocations of that day, partly in preparing a nice little

109 Recovered material (EP): ‘I had just ... dinner alone.’

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dinner for our invited guests, partly in wondering whether they would come or not, and in watching the weather to form an opinion on the probabilities of the case. It was of a very doubtful kind, and we were not much surprised at having at last to sit down to our nice little dinner alone. We looked anxiously at the signs of the weather for the following day, and a fine one happily dawned upon us. About ten on Sunday morning two boats-full put off from the landing, and wended their way up the river to Fenelon Falls, and as soon as there was an appearance of the congregation assembling, we walked slowly up the hill to our little church. After morning service, at which from about eighty to a hundred people might be present, nine children were brought to be baptized, one or two of them about six or seven years of age. [...]110 When this ceremony was over, the time before evening service was so short that some of us preferred remaining in church to encountering another walk, and the gentlemen were so good as to bring up some sandwiches and a pail of water, which, with a little wine, was, I assure you, extremely refreshing, for we have now hot summer weather. Mr. Street, who was very quiet and unaffected both in and out of the pulpit, and, moreover, pronounced by some of us to be very like you, William, gave us an excellent short sermon in the afternoon, and about five we re-embarked on our homeward course.111 What an event in our lives! and once we went to church every Sunday. [...] Mrs. Hamilton is going down to Peterboro on Wednesday she says, to scold her daughter for going out to parties and coming home at one or two in the morning, when the doctor has ordered her never to be out after sunset. Aunt Alice, who has often talked of a journey to Peterboro, though it was not clear whether in joke or in earnest, at length seriously determined to accompany Mrs. Hamilton, whose stay will be only a few days. Maggie Hamilton meanwhile is to be left with us. This was all settled yesterday, and now we must try to make out a long list of commissions, for my aunt will be rather lost in the great town without plenty to do. I believe she goes with an idea that she shall be able to get whatever she wants, in which I suspect she will be greatly mistaken. For my part, now that we have such a capital shopper to employ, I can scarcely think of a thing I do want. I do not know how it would be if I should at this moment find myself walking

110 In all likelihood, the congregation’s numbers swelled on this occasion on account of the baptism ceremony. 111 Original notation (HHL): ‘Reverend Charles Street, from Ancaster, later Canon of the Cathedral of Chicago. He was visiting the neighbourhood.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 July–4 August 1839 249

up Bold Street or round St. Ann’s Square.112 We certainly have no exercise for self-denial of this nature here … John is at this moment writing out music for his bugle. He improves decidedly. He was highly delighted the other day at having discovered and stopped a leak in the instrument, which greatly facilitates the sounding of it. We must get you to send us the notes of some good simple old psalm tunes. There is a book of such amongst my old music. I believe I oftener think of my music books than of my piano. Some dim recollection of an old favourite passes through my mind’s ear, and I fancy I should like to see the notes. The psalm tunes, I hope, will be wanted soon for the church. Yesterday our carpenter was the leader, and several voices were joined to his. These, I hope, will increase in number and in power as we get accustomed to hear ourselves. The church looks uncommonly neat now that it is finished, and would easily hold double the number that were assembled in it. Tuesday, July 23. Miss Currer’s courage has been cooling gradually all day respecting this Peterboro journey, at which I am not surprised, for the weather has been growing hotter and hotter. Finally, I think it is quite given up. Perhaps it is as well so, though with Mrs. Hamilton I should have regarded her as quite safe. In the afternoon I received the agreeable announcement that a young woman was come to take our place [as a servant]. She had brought her bundle as usual, ready to establish herself, without the smallest doubt of being engaged. I was going to put a few questions to her, but seeing her very much heated I said she had better get her tea before we talked to her. Going out a few minutes afterwards, I found her with her hands in the wash-tub hard at work already. This looks well, and put a stop to all enquiries concerning qualifications, leaving only the simple one about wages to be made. How differently our domestic arrangements are formed here and in England! [...] Sunday, July 28. I have written no journal these several days. The fact is I am out of love with it. Either the month or I have been immensely stupid, and I begin to

112 Recovered material (EP): ‘I do not know ... sounding of it.’ Bold Street was one of the main shopping streets in Liverpool. At this time, William Langton and his family resided in St. Ann’s Square in Manchester.

250 Journals and Letters, 1839

think the plan of making the day’s transactions the subject of the evening’s writing not a good one. However, as I have proceeded thus far in it, I will complete the month, without altogether breaking the thread of my narrative. On Wednesday, notwithstanding most indifferent weather, Mrs. Hamilton went down (to Peterboro), and left us our young visitor, who enlivens us not a little, following about just like a little dog.113 To keep her quiet I set her upon a piece of worsted work, which had in some measure the desired effect. [...] I find myself sometimes on the point of saying ‘your grandmama’ in speaking of my mother to her. I can fancy [your] Alice just such another, for the child, though a year or two older, is very small and juvenile. Dear little Alice! she has found out by this time that Canada is more than a two days’ journey from Seedley. There are thoughts I must put away from me at times. We had a visit from Mr. and Mrs. Fraser on Friday. They arrived just in time to partake of our early dinner. Mrs. Fraser appeared very shy when they were with us for the Regatta last autumn, and no wonder, after a five years’ entire seclusion. Her winter at Peterboro, and a further acquaintance here, have quite removed the shyness, or at least only left what with her foreign accent and nice appearance makes her a very interesting little person.114 We hope to see them again at the Regatta. Mr. Fraser is very gentlemanly, and after seeing nothing but young men for so long, it is quite a treat to converse with a middle-aged one. We want decidedly an admixture of ages, as well as of sexes, to render our society what it should be. The pursuits and occupations, too, of all its members are too similar to afford much variety in the general run of conversation, and this defect I expect to be on the increase, as the varieties of our several younger years belong more and more to a remote past. [...] I fancy after four days’ trial I may be expected to mention my hopes and my fears respecting our new domestic. I am sorry to say the latter greatly predominate. The only source of the former is that she is young and willing, but the height of her ambition seems to extend to acting by dictation. I must keep out of the way entirely in order to put her upon thinking instead of asking, ‘Shall I set the potatoes on now?’ ‘Do you think there is fire enough on the bake kettle?’ So far she has been small relief, and I am somewhat downhearted on the subject. Possibly she may be less lost and bewildered in a little time. This is the peculiar and unavoidable trial of the back-

113 Recovered material (EP): ‘On Wednesday ... away from me at times.’ 114 ‘foreign accent’: Mrs Fraser was Dutch by birth (John Langton, Early Days, 50).

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 July–4 August 1839 251

woods, and it colours the stream and directs the current of all one’s ideas, and makes us very dull and stupid journal writers. [...] Saturday, August 3. Twice a week is quite sufficient for the record of such an uneventful life as ours, but I have let nearly a whole one elapse without writing, and now the month is out and the post-day at hand, so I must bring my fourth volume to a conclusion.115 We are once more in the midst of dirt and confusion, and surrounded by work-people. Happily, however, they are outside the house this time. We came to the decision of plastering the whole house, on account of the absolute necessity of doing something of that kind to the gable-ends to keep the cold out. We shall be much the better for this operation when it is over, but meanwhile the state of affairs is not the most comfortable, and the disagreeables attending it are on the increase. John was obliged to go down to Peterboro to provide nails and some other things for our proceedings. He set out at three o’clock in the morning on Tuesday, and breakfasted at home on Friday morning. Mrs. Hamilton returned and took our young visitor away again. She leaves Maxwell at Peterboro until the Regatta, and talks of her spending the winter there again. What will Mr. Dennistoun say to this arrangement?116 Mrs. Hamilton has had bad weather both going and coming – wet going down, cold coming up – so it was very well Aunt Alice had not joined her party. Moreover, Peterboro cannot at present supply the article she chiefly wanted, viz., crockery. Things will break here as elsewhere, and we want replenishing sadly. You have no idea of the extra value which glass, china, etc, acquire by removal to the wilderness. As for our candle lamp, it has become a perfect treasure, and we have as much care over it as if it were Aladdin’s own. We must, I think, be ordering another box of candles for it, which I should think had better make the winter than the summer journey, and if our parcel of seeds is not [already] sent off, it might accompany the box.117 As this is not a letter, but a journal, I must give you something of the doings of the week. In the early part of it we were preserving ourselves a good supply of raspberries. It is a fruit we have in plenty, and much cheaper 115 Recovered material (EP): ‘Twice a week ... a conclusion.’ 116 Mr Dennistoun and Miss Maxwell Hamilton were engaged to be married. 117 Recovered material (EP): ‘We must, I think ... the box.’ The ‘box’ was another package being assembled by William in England.

252 Journals and Letters, 1839

than in England. At the same time we looked over our last year’s stock of sweetmeats, and I am happy to say I found them, notwithstanding the extremes of heat and cold they have experienced, in very good order.118 This was a delightful occupation to Maggie, but it spoilt one or two dinners. Pickling has also been the order of the day. We consume more in the way of ketchups, sauces, curry-powder, etc., than we used to do at home, on account of the many months we are without fresh meat. The latter part of the week I was making the discovery that I am no mantua-maker when out of the beaten track. I perplexed myself a little in the manufacture of the black and white print you sent me out, but now, when it is complete, the performance is approved. It has, however, put it into my mind to ask you to send me occasionally, when there are changes, a bit of calico correctly shaped and properly plaited up into a sleeve. This is generally the most difficult and important part. It will prevent me from having to work à tatons, as on this occasion.119 One of the doings of next week ought to be candlemaking, at which I feel a little more au fait. As for domestic matters, I may tell you that the suspense is over. The new girl will not do. I never, I think, saw one so thoroughly useless. She is inconceivable and undescribable. We continue, however, to like Bridget and therefore must consider ourselves comparatively well off. Mrs. Hamilton cannot hear of a servant. She has only a temporary one, whose child she has also to accommodate. Mrs. Fortye was without one, the Dunsfords are without – all very encouraging! I hope we may succeed before the Regatta. I suppose Mary [Scarry] must again be our friend in need. Mr. Boyd and Mr. Hamilton are dining here to-day with John as acting officers of the club, making preliminary arrangements for the great affair.120 Their deliberations appear to have provided me with a little more work, for the club is to give a flag for one of the prizes, which I am to design, if not in part execute. You will be surprised to hear not a word of the bazaar.121 It is dormant at present, but not given up. In fact it was found impossible to accomplish anything for it during the summer months, but some of our winter evenings are to be devoted to it. I am sure the establishment of a school is an object worthy of our best exertions. 118 Recovered material (EP): ‘At the same ... two dinners.’ 119 Recovered material (EP): ‘It will prevent ... suspense is over’; ‘à tatons’: learning how to do something through the process of doing it. 120 The ‘club’: most likely the Fenelon Hunt Club. The ‘great affair’ is, of course, the second regatta. 121 Recovered material (EP): ‘You will be ... best exertions.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 July–4 August 1839 253

Aunt Alice said in a very melancholy tone the other day, ‘I did think and say when we were coming to Canada, “Well, there is one good thing in it, however, there will be no bazaars!”’ Poor Miss Currer! She finds us much further advanced in folly than she expected. We have not only bazaars, but regattas! By the bye, there was a bazaar in Canada the other day, at Kingston, which produced the large sum of forty pounds. Sunday, August 4. I will wish you, my dear Margaret, an ever joyful return of tomorrow. It will be your birthday and I welcome you to the top of the hill. John’s toast to me on the 24th of June was, ‘an easy descent down the hill.’122 I do not know how it is with you, but I begin to have many ancient feelings, and have found myself meditating on caps sometimes.123 No wonder I should feel old when I find several, considerably my juniors, always reckoning on themselves amongst the seniors of the community. It will also, tomorrow, be the anniversary of our reunion with John. How little we thought then of the trouble that was so near at hand! My dear father looking so well and so happy at that time. I can yet often scarcely realise the truth that the beloved parent is no more, and looking round, on the incomplete family circle, would feel that a member of it was absent. May my thoughts be oftener on that blessed land where that absent member is now gone to, and may the scattered family at length be there all reunited. Nothing is as yet decided about the clergyman that is to have our church. [...] There has been another great fire in Peterboro – Mr. Shaw’s distillery and saw-mill, uninsured. The rebuilding was commenced within a very few days, and all the backwoodsmen are going down next week to a raising ‘Bee.’ If you have not sent off the seeds will you enclose in the box a piece of coarse bobbin net for mosquito blinds? It answers better than any other material, being more transparent, and does not incline to split like muslin; but nothing lasts very well that is perpetually basking in the sun. We dare not attempt to wash them at all. At this moment one of the creatures comes as if to revenge itself for my plotting the exclusion of its race! Next to the biters, our greatest insect pests are crickets. They are every-

122 Anne Langton has just celebrated her thirty-fifth birthday (24 June 1839). John’s remarks refer to life expectancy as being seventy years. Anne has reached the ‘half-way’ point and therefore is on the down slope. 123 Recovered material (EP): ‘I do not know ... exclusion of its race!’ Caps were worn indoors by adult women.

254 Journals and Letters, 1839

where, and in such numbers that it is quite hopeless to attempt destroying them. Moreover they are very destructive. I find they have been feasting lately on my shoe leather. The noise of them at night is unceasing, but this we get quite accustomed to. There is a little beetle too, a great plague from its numbers, and a large kind of ant annoyed us a good deal last year in the sweetmeat cupboard. Beyond these we have nothing to complain of in the insect way. There are very few of the disgusting kinds which hot climates sometimes produce. I believe we omitted in our last [letter] to notify John’s acceptance of the trust you repose in him.124 I am afraid you will not allow him to adopt his god-child, and make Katharine Elizabeth heiress of Blythe.125 From the journal of Anne Langton, 1 December 1839–5 January 1840 126 Sunday, December 1. This is the day on which I have fixed with myself to begin one of my closely-written sheets to you, as you have been pleased to express yourselves interested with my former ones.127 I do not feel now that I have to enlighten you respecting our mode of life in these parts, for I think, as John used to say to us, you must know the backwoods as well as I do – not perhaps exactly so, but at least as well as you ever will until you see them. I scarcely feel a doubt that if life and health are prolonged one of you will see them at some future, though perhaps, distant day, but the other is of a less locomotive spirit, and I fear will never be seen on this side of the Atlantic. However, she may perhaps spare a daughter as your travelling companion. I could fancy Alice opening her eyes very wide at a few things. But you do not approve of castle-building, so I forbear, and return to matters of fact. December finds us enjoying very lovely weather. It has been mild and sunny some days, but if tempted out by the external brightness, one finds one’s expectations of a pleasant walk far from realized. This Fall has been very

124 Recovered material (EP): ‘I believe we ... heiress of Blythe.’ 125 Katharine Elizabeth was the newly arrived fourth daughter of William and Margaret Langton. 126 Langton’s fifth journal ‘instalment’ breaks the pattern of quarterly recording. She could not maintain both that strict schedule and fulfil her stated aim to let her audience ‘see’ the family in each month of the year. She has already covered October in 1838 and January, April, and July in 1839. Rather than record another ‘October’ journal, she opts to send a December one. 127 Recovered material (EP): ‘This is the day ... matters of fact.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 December 1839–5 January 1840 255

different from the last. We have had very few days of severe weather as yet. I know we mentioned the Indian summer in our last [letter], but I am sure we did not half enough expatiate on the beauties of it. It prevailed during the greatest part of October, and very frequently until the last of the month, we were entirely without fire, even at night. The lake has been frozen over about a week, at least our part of it. The ice came just one day too soon. We made an effort to get our packages out before the waters closed. John had two days’ journeying in miserable weather to make necessary arrangements. We had many changes of hopes and fears with the frosts and thaws during the period which must elapse before they would reach us. At length a beautiful thaw came, continuing a whole week, until the very day when we thought they might arrive. In fact they did come down the Scugog River, almost to the lake, when the ice became too strong, and they were taken back to Purdy’s, there to lie a month or so until sleighing time. We bear it with great philosophy, reconciling ourselves with the idea that the pleasures of anticipation are prolonged.128 I sometimes think patience is much strengthened by the exercise it meets with in this country, but perhaps it is only that our ideas of time alter with the circumstances of our case. A month here is hardly as much as a week at home. At any rate, John, who is a four years older settler than we are, does not give us much credit for our acquisition of the virtue in question. Let Margaret fancy herself with a sick child, waiting until you had gone five and twenty miles and back for a dose of physic for it. We had a man from that distance on such an errand the other day. John has been despatching a letter to you to-day. I do not know whether he has enlarged on the proceedings of the month that has elapsed since we last wrote, but I imagine that his matter will have been of more importance than the gossip of the day, so I shall not hesitate to give you a little of the past as well as of the present. Tuesday, December 3. I did not take up my pen last night – for why? John and I were deep in the Prophecies, to which some circumstances had called our attention, so you will not be surprised that we found enough to puzzle us till bed-time. There was nothing remarkable in the events of the day. I had my school today, but at present it consists only of my two eldest children. I do not regret it, as these get a start from receiving more of my attention, whilst those I hope will not forget much who are at present kept

128 Recovered material (EP): ‘We bear it ... events of the day.’

256 Journals and Letters, 1839

away by bad roads and want of shoes. Schooling has been very light work for some time. First the harvest came, during which I had a very small attendance. Then the Regatta, which was a holiday.129 Afterwards potatoraising interfered a good deal, and now the roads. One or two of my greatest dunces are staying away too at present in the hope that another year may find them brighter and more painstaking.130 [...] I have been ironing a gown this morning, an accomplishment I have not yet perfectly attained, owing to the colour of our attire since we came; but though not yet quite at home in the operation, the result is very superior to what issues from the hands of our washerwoman. Our neighbours, the Dunsfords, have been living without a servant most of the summer, and the ladies have done all their own washing. They gain great credit for their exertions, and are themselves not a little pleased with them. I take it that an English lady transported here is ordinarily a more useful character than a Canadian-bred one. This I gather from what I hear, for of course I know nothing of it myself. Our clergyman’s wife is a Canadian, however, so I shall at least know one specimen. Mr. Fidler [...], our pastor, I have just seen once.131 He has performed service in the church two Sundays, but unfortunately just when there was neither a lake, nor a road for ladies to travel on. He rode over here, however, one morning, accompanied by Mr. Wallis.132 He is tall, thin, middle-aged and gentlemanly. At present he has gone down to bring up his family. They have part of the tavern given up to them until a house is built which will be set about as soon as possible.133 There is another arrival at the Falls. The father and mother-in-law of Mr. Jamieson are come to live in the house he vacates.134 What changes! Until the 129 This second regatta was the last held for several years. A young settler, James Witherup, fell backwards out of John Langton’s boat (which had just won a race). A strong swimmer, Witherup was expected to resurface at once, but he was drowned and his body was not found until next morning. He left a pregnant wife and a young child. The Langtons were among those who contributed to and later administered a subscription fund to provide for the children’s education (Anne Langton, Story of Our Family, 83). 130 Recovered material (EP): ‘One or two ... painstaking.’ 131 Although the church at Fenelon Falls had been built three years earlier, Mr Fidler was its first incumbent. In the meantime, services had occasionally been conducted in the church by visiting clergy. 132 Recovered material (EP): ‘He has performed ... by Mr. Wallis.’ 133 Recovered material (EP): ‘ ... which will be ... he vacates.’ 134 Hugh Hornby Langton alters the sequence of several lines in this paragraph. At this point, he proceeds with: ‘At all these arrivals ... society.’ He follows with: ‘What changes! Until the autumn of our arrival ... Irishmen.’ I have given preference to the earlier sequence, as there does not seem to be any particular reason for this alteration and the earlier version is probably taken directly from Anne Langton’s original letters.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 December 1839–5 January 1840 257

autumn of our arrival, Mrs. Fraser had been the only lady in the settlement. Now there will be Mrs. Dennistoun, Mrs. Hamilton, Mrs. Fidler, Mrs. Hoare, ourselves, and all the Dunsfords in addition. [...] At all these arrivals of ladies I do not think I rejoice, as it would seem natural to do. I shall have to pay morning visits, etc, and I suppose I am growing savage, alias selfish, and unaccustomed to make sacrifices to society. I am glad there are children of Mr. Fidler’s family, for though they may be no immediate acquisition, it will be pleasant to see something growing up amongst us.135 My mother must wait until the waters open again before she can pay her respects to the new-comers. I do not think she could bear a sleigh. I used to think Aunt Alice would be able to undertake a drive to the Falls when the roads were pretty good, but she is not as stout [in health] as she was this time last year. Wednesday, December 4. John came back yesterday, but no letters and no Major.136 His business at the Falls regarded the parsonage, and he imagined he had left things pretty well settled, but Mr. Jamieson came over for him again this morning. A new idea [for the parsonage] had been started which had to be discussed.137 These journeys are not improving to a bad cold John has got, but I daresay until the erection is completed he will often be wanted at the scene of action. He was accompanied home to-day by Mr. M’Laren. What do you think I have been doing this evening? Taking a hand in a ‘rubber.’ I did so, I believe, that it might be apparent that my ignorance is real, and not feigned for the purpose of excusing me from making myself useful on other occasions. The Major is fond of a ‘rubber,’ but among us of the upper end [of the lake] he is not often indulged, Aunt Alice and John being, I think, the only other whist-players – the lower-endians138 are rather more in that line. The weather is still magnificent. You have nothing like it in England. Sunday, December 8. This sheet disclaims all pretensions to be a journal.139 Three days have passed without an entry in it. You have lost nothing except some beautiful

135 Recovered material (EP): ‘I am glad ... by Mr. M’Laren.’ 136 Mr McLaren from Fenelon Falls was referred to as ‘the Major’ by the other young male settlers, and is not to be confused with Major Hamilton. 137 The settlers and the parson were not always in agreement as to the financing and provisioning of the new parsonage, the settlers wishing to exercise economy in the costs. 138 The ‘lower-endians’: those Sturgeon Lake settlers whose properties were located below Sturgeon Point. 139 Recovered material (EP): ‘This sheet ... dry-rot.’

258 Journals and Letters, 1839

weather, which I sincerely wish you had been here to enjoy. Now we have a complete thaw, and the whole atmosphere smells as if the country had got the dry-rot. Notwithstanding the state of the roads, our congregation, which again assembles during Mr. Fidler’s absence, was an excellent one. We numbered twenty-one. John being away, I was parson, and took my text from Romans ch. xiv. v. 16.140 Whilst rejoicing in the advantages of a regular clergyman and place of public worship, I feel some regret that this little assembly of neighbours must cease. Some of our party will certainly not be able to get to church during the winter months, and even I, who have been somewhat too tenderly bred for a backwoods-woman, shall be a little dependent on weather. When once sleighing begins there is less to interfere with moving to and fro than in the summer season, when wind and water are the creatures we have to deal with. This evening we have been living in by-gone days, reading over some of my mother’s and aunt’s voluminous correspondence, which year by year is committed to the flames after a re-perusal.141 We are just getting to a period within my own recollection. It is curious to look back from new Blythe to old Blythe, and think of the blanket-coated Canadian farmer in his white frock. I wonder how our letters will read when Alice and her sisters are reaching middle age, and we, or the few of us who may be left, are reviewing some of the earlier variations of our existence. A great majority of the dramatis personae of my mother’s letters are no longer moving at all upon the scene now. [...] Looking back is very apt to make one look forward too, and if a little awe arises from the obscurity of the prospect, it is very comforting to know that amidst all the changes and chances of this our life, there is one who is ‘the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.’ Tuesday, December 10. John came home yesterday reporting that the house for our clergyman is begun. It is to look on to Camerons Lake, will be close to Mr. Wallis’s, very near to the village, but almost half a mile from the church. We are all mustering our forces to provide a comfortable dwelling for our pastor. The labouring classes give work, and the moneyed settlers cash. You will hear more on this interesting subject of our plans and means before I have done.142 We hear Mr. Dennistoun’s marriage is fixed for the 24th inst. We

140 This verse reads ‘Let not your good be evil spoken of.’ 141 Recovered material (EP): ‘This evening ... for ever.’ The Langtons had a New Year practice of rereading old letters before burning them. Researchers and writers of later generations can only regret this loss of invaluable documentation. 142 Recovered material (EP): ‘You will hear ... dinner.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 December 1839–5 January 1840 259

are likely to have early intelligence how the wedding goes off, as the groomsmen intend to be back for our Christmas Day dinner. I look upon the transactions of the neighbourhood which concern me not, still with something more of interest than I felt in the ordinary ones of any other neighbourhood I ever lived in. I never felt before that I was in the least likely to be permanently settled. Now, though I cannot estimate the probabilities of the case, I think it is very possible I may live and die where I am, and the thought sometimes crosses my mind in looking round on the younger part of the population, will there be anybody to care for the old woman at Blythe? If I would have it so, I must not encourage the halfsavage, half-selfish feelings I confessed to on another page.143 Again, when I contemplate the other possibility of my some time bidding farewell to the new world, I feel inclined to confine my interest within the smallest possible compass. It is a great deal wiser to think of the present than of the future, and sometimes perhaps a very little of the past is allowable. John is gone today to blaze a road through the forest to Mr. Boyd’s. It shortens the distance there by half, and brings all that part of the lake above five miles nearer to us.144 My mother is very busy at present preparing some red cloaks wherewith she intends to make all my school girls happy this Christmas. They will look most snug and comfortable. Good warm clothing is very dear in this country, and not easily attainable by the poor settlers.145 Yet notwithstanding this, I believe there is much more suffering from cold in England than here. The forest is always at hand, and those who have only one room can have little difficulty in keeping it warm here, though where they are multiplied by the necessities of civilisation, it is not only extremely expensive, but a great inconvenience to have to perpetually consider your stock of firewood, and almost impossible, as other things have to be attended to, ever to get sufficiently beforehand to feel at rest on the subject for any length of time. And so we have, as is quite right, to pay the price of our comforts and refinements.

143 Recovered material (EP): ‘If I would ... allowable.’ 144 John’s new trail also took in the Beehive, which later proved a great convenience in his courtship of Lydia Dunsford. 145 Although the provision of aid and support could cut across class and ethnic lines to some extent, bringing women together in informal networks of caring and sharing, Errington observes that, at other times, charitable work ‘accentuated differences between the various class divisions within society.’ (Wives and Mothers, 66, 182). Anne Langton later recalled how her mother became ‘in some measure the “lady bountiful” of the neighbourhood’ when she received some insurance funds following Thomas Langton’s death. To show that her mother acted from the purest intentions, however, Anne carefully added: ‘if this was some gratification, it does not imply either pride or worldliness’ (Story of Our Family, 75).

260 Journals and Letters, 1839

Thursday, December 12.146 John was only just in time with his ‘blazing,’ as a thick snow began to fall yesterday, and made us feel for a time somewhat anxious, as it was getting very dark before John made his appearance at home. It is so easy and so dangerous to stray in the forest, especially from a new untrodden road. We had the horn sounded, which he heard to a considerable distance, though I believe he was coming safe enough without such a guide. This snow falls upon very weak ice, and I am afraid lake travelling will be very bad, to the annoyance of many. Our goods may have to lie at Purdy’s even longer than was expected, and, which is almost as important, Mr. Dennistoun’s wedding may be delayed. [...] One of our occupations to-day was bottling some wine. We got into a dilemma owing to the badness of the tap, and were obliged to summon John to our assistance. He says the taps to be had in this country are very bad, as is the case with most things, and having more than once experienced inconvenience in consequence, the present circumstances suggest to me that it might be well to have three or four from England – so there is another commission for you. My more elegant occupation this evening has been commencing a little footstool as a wedding present for Mrs. Dennistoun. It will be no great piece of work, being only a border with a cloth top. I think it will be pretty, though I had small scope for my imagination in planning it, wools being at the lowest ebb. After this the residue will accomplish little more than a kettle holder, always excepting materials for the chair.147 I think I shall have to alter the date William put on his sketch of the ‘Arms’ from ’42 to ’52. I must not think of looking at it until the bazaar is off my hands. I have been doing a few drawings for it lately. They are all duplicates of what you already possess, so John’s performances will be more likely to tempt you to become a purchaser, and they will certainly be more generally attractive. Mr. Wallis has set his sister to work, and I know she can work, for I have an uncommonly pretty pair of slippers sent me by her in acknowledgment of a drawing of her brother’s house.148

146 Recovered material (EP): ‘Thursday ... of her brother’s house.’ 147 On embroidery and its effects on women’s roles, see Parker, The Subversive Stitch. ‘The chair’ – designed and worked as a gift for William’s family – becomes a recurring theme in Langton’s letters over a number of years. Original notation (EP): ‘The “chair” often mentioned consisted of two pieces of tapestry work, one the Langton coat-of-arms, for the seat, the other a fancy sketch – two girls, one holding a basket of roses, in a frame, with wreaths of flowers round.’ 148 Langton executed two drawings of Wallis’s home: Maryboro Lodge and Home of James Wallis.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 December 1839–5 January 1840 261

Friday, December 13. Nothing remarkable today, excepting that we hung our first bacon; six hams now in pickle will soon decorate our kitchen. It is John’s ambition to see it adorned by twenty flitches and twenty hams, but the pig department is not very flourishing at present, as we are killing off an indifferent breed. [...] Saturday, December 14. I woke this morning in a terrible fright thinking that I had got a cold.149 If anybody knew how much afraid I am of a cold, they would think me very soft indeed. On this occasion I half choked myself with flannel and fur in hopes of smothering the enemy in this early stage, and I am very much inclined to hope the remedy has proved effectual. Whilst keeping close to-day I have got on beautifully with my footstool, which will be ready for making up as soon as I can get sight of our carpenter, whom we expect in a day or two on his way to Mr. Wallis. We have been so accustomed to have a carpenter about us that I do not know how we shall do without one when we are once fairly finished off [the house building]. We have a great addition to the premises lately in the shape of a wood-shed. The cattle have also had a new building bestowed upon them this fall, which, until you get a new sketch of the farm, you must remember is situated half-way between the stable and barn. Wednesday, December 18. Sunday and Monday were perfectly uneventful. Yesterday brought us a little more variety, first in the shape of a note from Mr. Dennistoun, requesting John’s attendance on the 24th, so the important subject of the wardrobe had to be discussed, and the ways and means of travelling, etc. As regards the first of these subjects of consideration, a certain brown coat which appeared at Margaret Earle’s wedding, and at your own, is to come forth once more on the present occasion, and the other points of the equipment were satisfactorily arranged. But travelling, unless the roads greatly improve in the next week, will present many difficulties and inconveniences. There is but little snow, and no ice that can be trusted. In all probability the bride and bridegroom, who intend going to Toronto before they return, will have to perform part of their expedition in a waggon. A romantic excursion truly! and one would think very little fit for a delicate person to undertake. John is very sorry that his presence was asked for, and everybody thinks a most inconvenient season has been fixed upon.

149 Recovered material (EP): ‘I woke ... finished off.’

262 Journals and Letters, 1839

In the evening Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Alexander Dennistoun arrived before tea, and spent the evening with us. The envious young bachelors, who had no wedding prospects, were very much inclined to laugh at the happy man who has. They quizzed his great and active preparations for the event! It appears that he has as yet got scarcely anything into the house, and with these roads, Mrs. Hamilton must be quite cut off from rendering assistance in making things a little ready. The bride will find plenty of occupation and amusement when she comes herself in making all comfortable. Another subject of mirth was that there has been no wedding ring provided. Peterboro cannot furnish one, and they think one will have to be borrowed. We shall hear all particulars in course of time, but our Christmas dinner is not to take place until the 29th this year, to accommodate the travellers.150 The weather is something colder, and we might call it cold if we did not know that the thermometer has some 30 or 40 degrees to fall yet. We have sent our boy to the Falls this morning in hopes that there may be some letters for us. It is, I think, seven weeks since we had one from you. [...] I am rather surprised that in the middle of November you had not received our box by Mr. Kirkpatrick. He was to sail by steam from New York on either the 16th or the 18th of October, and therefore, should have landed early in November. I shall look with some anxiety about it for another letter from you, for though the contents were not of any value, they were rather precious in our own eyes, as all we had to send, and would be, I doubt not, in yours also. I find your opinion respecting our regatta coincides with some of the wiser heads here. The number of wise ones, too, seems very much increasing, so I expect you will hear of no more regattas. I believe the backwoodsmen were very glad of an occasion to ask their friends up here, and make some return for the civilities they receive at Peterboro, and for once or twice I have no doubt pleasure was afforded, but it would be too much to expect them to visit the back lakes again and again. [...] Thursday, December 19. This having been school day I will make it the occasion of thanking you for the little book you have for me. I have no doubt that were you, or your friend Dr. Kay,151 to visit my school you would find great occasion to reform

150 Recovered material (EP): ‘We shall hear ... in yours also.’ 151 Dr (later Sir) James Kay-Shuttleworth, a noted medical and educational reformer in Manchester, was among a group of noted Mancunian social reformers that

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 December 1839–5 January 1840 263

it. I go on in a hum-drum, old-fashioned way, teaching just reading and writing, and very little else. But do not imagine from this that I am a despiser of modern improvements; on the contrary, I shall be exceedingly glad to see some accounts of them, and if possible benefit a little by the hints that I receive.152 Moreover, I am quite sensible that the instruction I give goes a very small way indeed towards complete education, and I have felt a misgiving lest, in some cases, the fact of a child being sent to me for two or three hours twice a week affords an excuse for neglecting it at home. I endeavour to impress it upon their friends that I by no means charge myself with the whole education, but am willing to give a little assistance such as may be in my power. In one case, where they are very competent to teach at home, I very much question whether my assistance has not been worse than useless on this account. One individual has actually made it an excuse for not doing anything towards a schoolhouse, that he could send his child to me. In other cases, however, I must do some good, though the amount of it may be small. In one neither the father nor mother can either read or write, though evidently in many respects quite better sort of people, and their children show more complete cleanliness and propriety than any others. In another case, they are a very large and busy family, and have made some small effort towards instruction themselves, though they complain that the children lose in the summer what they can teach them during the winter months. They evidently value instruction, and rarely have kept their daughter at home, though she is at a very useful age. I have only to complain in one instance that the benefit afforded is not appreciated, at least that a very irregular attendance is obtained. But I should not talk of appreciating the benefit when I was just going to tell you how small it was after all. Most of my scholars have to begin from the a-b-c, and until a little reading is accomplished I scarcely think, with my limited days and hours, I can attempt anything beyond it. Writing I began with the elder ones, merely by way of occupying profitably the time in which the others were saying their lessons, but to very little profit did they use the pen until latterly when, from [having] a smaller number, I have been able to give more direct attention to it, and decided improvement begins to appear. With my readers I am at present pleased enough if they appear to take in the direct meaning of the words as they read them, without entering into included Richard Cobden (1804–65), Robert Owen (1771–1858), and William Langton. For further details of William Langton’s work as a social reformer, see Williams Deacon’s 1771–1970, ‘William Langton (1801–1881) Banker and Humanitarian,’ 114–20. 152 Recovered material (EP): ‘But do not ... I shall receive.’

264 Journals and Letters, 1839

any explanations or questionings that may help to open their understandings. I do not know what progress can be expected from children who say a lesson twice a week, and perhaps never look at a book at any other time. Sunday, December 22. Friday and Saturday were rather busy days, the extra work that made them so was fitting John out for his expedition, not exactly for the wedding, though my mother ironed his shirt for the morning, and wished she were beautifying him for his own wedding. We were also providing for his comfort during the journey, knitting gaiters to keep the snow out of his moccassins. With these roads he may expect to have to jump out of the sleigh some twenty times, and I hope our performance will prove useful. All sorts of defences against the weather are of great importance here. My mother accuses me of not wrapping up. What do you think? At the present moment I am wearing two pairs of stockings, a pair of socks, a pair of shoes, and a pair of moccassins. True, I do not take the same care of the upper extremity, I am often puzzled about a little covering for it as I do have sundry reasons for avoiding caps as long as I can, and I am not very fond of disfiguring myself altogether.153 Strange to say, vanity can exist in the backwoods, and it survives middle age. Now, too, that there will be a bride amongst us, we must look forward to some gaities [sic], rather different to be sure, from those you have had in honour of Mr. Escher. A large dinner party is not among my most agreeable reminiscences of the old world, and yet I should like very well to see some of the long tables that will be spread on Wednesday next. We, as it happens, shall be quite alone. John did not half like our being so squandered about on Christmas Day. We had several groans from him in contemplating this journey with bad roads, an old sleigh, and a new horse, and Mrs. Hamilton to bring up again, so that he cannot make the journey a useful one by getting up a load [of goods]. He may, perhaps, be able to bring back with him some things we have lying at Peterboro, which appear to have arrived from England in July, and to have been then announced to us in a letter which has miscarried. A second announcement of them reached us only just as the lakes were closing. We imagine these things to be the moreen for Aunt Alice, and a filter, supposed to have been lost. We are going to lose one of our neighbours in consequence of his wife not being satisfied with solitude. John’s comment on the matter is that a man runs a great risk when he marries in this country. I think

153 Recovered material (EP): ‘True, I do not ... have been lost.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 December 1839–5 January 1840 265

it is one thing that keeps our backwoodsmen so long unmarried. The risk is by no means obviated by taking a wife of the daughters of the land. Indeed, those who have been accustomed to the semi-civilisation of the more settled districts have a much greater horror of forest seclusion than such as have really lived in the world. I think the nuptials at present proceeding have brought the old topic more into my mind. I believe John begins to give himself up, so we may jog down the hill together, sympathizing with each other in our forlorn condition.154 We hear to-day that Mr. Fidler has again reached the Falls, accompanied by his family.155 I hope after John’s return I may soon have an opportunity of paying my respects to the lady, but I am afraid my mother will be very fearful of me this winter, though my symptoms of cold have entirely disappeared. I believe I am quite as much afraid for myself, though I do not look for safety from precisely the same course. The time may come when I shall not be worth a straw to anybody. It will be a great change, and one of which I cannot estimate the effect on me. As I sat at my knitting yesterday, a great many things came into my head that I thought I should say when I resumed the pen, but they appear to have escaped me. One circumstance has occurred today which I have no pleasure in recording. Our servant has given notice of her intention to return home. It is the same one whom we have had since May last. I had got accustomed to her, and liked her for many things, not for any astonishing capabilities as a servant, though her deficiencies were not more than average ones, differing in kind, but not in degree, from most other domestics in this uncultivated land.156 On the whole we have been more at liberty to follow our own devices, have been able to trust more things to her, and get more odd jobs performed by her than is usual, when we have had only one servant, though a certain ‘unhandiness’ – to use her own expression and ‘unsmartness’ – by way of softening down the word ‘personal untidiness’ – has somewhat interfered with our comfort. As for slowness, I will not say a word of it, for it was thoroughly counterbalanced by her meek and quiet spirit, and in this imperfect world of ours

154 Instances of sister and brother making their home together were not uncommon in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Such couples included Dorothy and William Wordsworth, Mary and Charles Lamb. In the Langtons’ case, such an arrangement would suit both parties: Anne would have the assurance of a roof over her head and living necessities; John would have his household in good order. Each would have an agreeable, like-minded companion. 155 Recovered material (EP): ‘We hear to-day ... escaped me.’ 156 Recovered material (EP): ‘ ... though her deficiencies ... she is going.’

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there are corresponding virtues and vices, and we cannot expect the good without evil. In short, I am sorry she is going. Our boy is clever, and at present his laziness does not interfere with our comfort, for if he does but keep the house supplied with wood, the pathways clear of snow, the poultry fed, and the plate and knives cleaned, we have nothing to complain of, though perhaps fuller occupation might be better for himself. It is on the strength of Margaret’s invitation to enter into domestic details that I have said so much. Candle-making, both moulds and dips, was the order of the day a little while ago. I wish I could have an hour’s conversation with a tallow-chandler. Can you procure me some hints concerning the business, as to the temperature of the room, temperature of the tallow, etc.; what can prevent a dip from being thicker at the bottom than at the top? Also look at one properly made and tell me how near the wick reaches to the bottom of the candle. Some of the information you might get would perhaps not be applicable to our small scale of operations.157 I have nothing at present but my own experience to guide me, and feel that some more knowledge of the matter is desirable – try to help me to it. Monday, December 23. Active preparations for Christmas commenced to-day – raisin-stoning, sugar-scraping, etc., had been accomplished before, but some of the good things were now put together, and we deal much more largely in them than we ever did before. Our carpenter arrived this evening and we held a consultation on the making up of my footstool. I hope he will make a good job of it. I was considerably perplexed in the manufacture of a cord for it. At last I accomplished a neat one, with appropriate coloured braids wound round a strong string. From Mr. Taylor (the carpenter) we have this information respecting our clergyman, that his family consists of a girl and three boys, the first appearing to be ten or twelve years old.158 There was a very small congregation yesterday, Mr. Fidler’s return being known to few, besides which many are away on the gay errand at Peterboro.159 I hear they had an impressive sermon on the text, ‘Ephraim is joined to idols, let him alone,’ – subject, the awfulness of being left to ourselves. We have lost a pig to-day – disease unknown, but a post-mortem exami-

157 Recovered material (EP): ‘Some of the ... help me to it.’ 158 Recovered material (EP): ‘From Mr. Taylor ... your ears to-day.’ 159 ‘the gay errand’: the Dennistoun–Hamilton wedding, to be held the next day.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 December 1839–5 January 1840 267

nation is to take place to-morrow. I wonder how Miss Hamilton feels tonight! Wednesday, December 25. Christmas Day. How are they spending it at Seedley has been the question we have put to each other – happily, I hope. We have spent ours happily but not merrily. Stillness has been quite the character of the day, and coming in the midst of a busy week is not unpleasant, but I wish it could have been broken in upon by some of the laughing voices that have doubtless been sounding in your ears to-day. Of course, without sleigh and sleigh-drivers we could not go to church, and the absence of the congregation which used to assemble here has made the day completely different from what it was before. It has become exceedingly mild again after somewhat severer frost for a day or two.160 I am afraid our winter will come in spring; certainly we have had very little of it. The sun shone very brightly here yesterday, and I hope it did so on the bride at Peterboro. A day’s work has accomplished an exceedingly pretty footstool. [...] I think I must contrive to send some specimen of our cleverness to the bazaar. I have accomplished with the pencil what with good high prices might bring in five pounds, but I have some more yet to do. I inspected a little portfolio of John’s the other day, containing some of my old sketches, and felt rather mortified to find them so pretty, for I cannot discover much increase of skill in my recent performances. With reference to your reading my journals to Uncle Zachary, I can imagine that the earlier ones possessed some interest for any who cared about us; but not so this second series, and I hope you will discriminate. Sunday, December 29. John and the other wedding guests got back just in time to assemble round our table on Friday. The meeting was not quite a full one, but went off pleasantly, and the viands, top, bottom, and corners, looked beautiful, and did honour to the mistress of the house.161 All had gone off very well at Peterboro, though the ring was really a borrowed one! The bride, simply dressed in a lavender silk, looked yet, John thinks, the most elegant creature he ever saw, and acquitted herself with such grace that he said she might have done honour to the Queen’s drawing-room.162 The ceremony, 160 Recovered material (EP): ‘It has become ... will discriminate.’ 161 Recovered material (EP): ‘The meeting ... of the house.’ 162 Recovered material (EP): ‘The bride ... on this occasion.’

268 Journals and Letters, 1839

according to Scottish custom, was performed in the house. The bridegroom is remarkably inelegant, and his wedding garment does not appear to have metamorphosed him for the occasion. The ladies in attendance and their dresses have been all duly described to us, also that of the gentlemen, from which it appears that very few of the latter wore their own clothes. This may surprise you, but not those who know to what extent the system of borrowing and lending is carried here. Wardrobes are often scantily furnished, and, moreover, the young men move about unencumbered with carpet bags, and trust to each other for the necessary changes. It not unfrequently happens that three or four of them dine here, all more or less equipped in John’s clothes. [...] I must [...] tell you that one of the bride’s-maids seems to have appeared very agreeable in John’s eyes, so that I had better introduce her to you.163 It is a Miss Forbes, the daughter of a naval officer, who has but recently come to this country, that is, since we did. The young lady, whom I have seen at our regatta, is very pleasing and lady-like in appearance, moreover, she has a fine voice, and sings well. One or two more weddings amongst his friends, some more lovely brides and happy bridegrooms, would soon bring John into a requisite state for taking matrimonial steps, so I hope that Mr. Wallis’s continued attention to Miss Fisher [in Kingston], and renewed rumours concerning Mr. Atthill, may mean something. I am sure I ought not to wish John married unless a suitable person turns up, and the number of these is so very small that the matter seems well nigh hopeless. However, it is a comfortable creed that marriages are made in heaven, and I am thankful to say it is mine. Winter seems setting in at last. We have high wind and deep snow to-day, and I fear there will be another very small congregation. John, however, is gone to church. After this, we may hope for good roads. The journey up from Peterboro was a very heavy one, and the young horse’s shoulders are so galled that he will not be serviceable for two or three weeks. Our patience, however, will not wait now much longer for our packages from Purdy’s, so we shall endeavour to hire a team, and send for them at once. Tuesday, December 31. We have a fine, under-zero frost to-day, and the advantages of plastering outside are fully proved. A propos of frost, it is said that milk comes to

163 Recovered material (EP): ‘I must […] tell you …bless you all.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 December 1839–5 January 1840 269

Montreal market in sacks. If the fact is to be doubted, the possibility of it is not. But I must give the small remaining space to business ...164 Jan. 5, 1840. I have only space left to say that our packages are arrived, and their contents are all safe – much approved and admired. I do not think any of our treasures were so long contemplated as dear Margaret’s picture, which all seem now inclined to think my best performance.165 I too feel a little proud of it. God bless you all.

164 Whatever the nature of the business alluded to, Philips did not judge it of sufficient relevance or interest to include. 165 This portrait (see fig. 7) is the one of Margaret (1831) on the occasion of either her engagement to William Langton or their marriage. It was donated, with several other of Anne’s miniatures, to the Archives of Ontario in 2002 by Patrick Garland, godson of the late Michael Langton of London, England.

Recto Running Head 270

Journals and Letters, 1840

From the journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 March 1840 Sunday, March 1. Time flies very fast, but I can scarcely believe that the period for commencing my quarterly journal has arrived.1 The first reflection that presents itself on a reviewal [sic] of the time that has elapsed since the termination of my last, is that no line from either of you has enlivened it. I am inclined to blame the winds and waves as much as you, however, several packets being, I understand, due, and another post will probably prove that you have been less remiss than appearances would lead us to believe. I hesitated to-day whether I should not postpone my journal until a more promising month, but I have resolved to let you take your chance, though I very much fear two-thirds of it will be filled with comments on the weather, at least if they bear the same proportion to it that the subject does to all our thoughts and conversation. It is really one of supreme importance, and I reconcile myself to satiating you with it from the idea that it is characteristic of the country, where both in summer and winter we depend so entirely upon it for our roads, etc. I recollect saying in my last that the horses were to be busy all February drawing in firewood, so little did I know about the matter. We have had throughout it nothing but a succession of thaws, so that scarcely any snow now remains on the ground, and the whole month it has been scarcely possible to accomplish anything. Still we have kept hoping for a return of winter, but begin now to give it up.2

1 Recovered material (EP): ‘Time flies ... to believe.’ 2 Recovered material (EP): ‘Still we ... doing so.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 March 1840 271

This morning, when I first looked out at a heavy cloud, hoping it was charged with snow, I was startled by a brilliant flash of lightning, and after a very decided thunderstorm we have had a complete spring day, every symptom of the winter having departed. There is generally the best sleighing weather in February, and doubtless the disappointment of it will be very generally felt. But in our case, you know, when the roads became practicable, first one horse, and then the other was laid up, and poor old ‘Rattler’ (now no more) had only just been replaced when these thaws set in, so that most of the winter work is yet unaccomplished, and has a good chance of remaining so. If we are kept any longer in suspense therefore, you will be called upon to sympathise in our hopes and fears, otherwise we will endeavour to turn our thoughts towards spring, and forget that the firewood lies nearly a mile off in the bush, and that the horses have not earned their keep. Since the thaw, lake travelling has been good; before it we had no passing at all on this part of the lake. Now there has been a little more intercourse with our neighbours of the lower end. Mr. Need was up for a day or two. Mr. and Mrs. Fraser came to see us yesterday, and the Dunsfords talk of doing so. John has employed his horses a little to bring up lumber from Bobcaygeon. [...] We are going to try to accomplish our call upon Mrs. Dennistoun tomorrow. [...] [As] she has been married upwards of two months this would seem rather extraordinary to those only accustomed to the facilities of the old country. I have only got three times to church as yet this year, which seemed unaccountable even to ourselves until we looked back, and observed how Sunday after Sunday some impediment arose. Monday, March 2. We have had a brilliant day for our expedition; it might have been May instead of March.3 There is nothing like winter left, excepting the ice and a little snow. We called at the Falls, and took up Mrs. Fidler, who wished likewise to pay her respects to the bride, and then proceeding across Camerons Lake, made our call, partook of the wedding cake, etc. We gave also our invitation, but the departing season did not permit of its being accepted, for Mr. Dennistoun has, like ourselves, been minus a horse for part of the winter, and has now work of more absolute importance for them than taking his lady to pay dinner visits. His new mansion looks a little rough yet, but perhaps not more so than ours did the first winter. One is so soon reconciled to what must be, that I thought very little about our own unfin-

3 Recovered material (EP): ‘ ... it might have ... unfinished state.’

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ished state. When the snow first departs it reveals many blemishes that one had almost forgotten, and I thought the village at the Falls looked almost more wild than ever today. In the clearing, sleighing is now very bad, but there is still some tolerable road in the bush. With all the shaking of bush travelling, I think it exceedingly pleasant, and infinitely preferable to skimming along the surface of the lake, which in the long-run would become exceedingly monotonous. There is a great deal of variety in the details of forest scenery, and I think it would be long before the peculiar beauties would cease to excite pleasurable sensations in me. In returning we called on Mr. and Mrs. Hoare. They are now in possession of Mr. Jameson’s house and farm [...] I am glad to have a few more elderly people amongst us; we want variety. But I wish it was less difficult for the old to move about. I am afraid this pair at the Falls and the pair here will scarcely meet until the lake opens. [...]4 Tuesday, March 3. John made an expedition to Bobcaygeon to-day for lumber. The ice was very good in the morning, but very soft at night. He invited some of the gentlemen from the lower end for Thursday, to help to eat up some of our provisions. We had very little fresh meat all winter until John’s last visit to Peterboro, when for the first time he had the means of bringing up a load, and accordingly stocked our larder with a quarter of beef and half a sheep. From that time the thaw set in, and it has required great contrivance not to lose much of the enjoyment of these luxuries. We had a pedlar here today, the first incident of the kind since we came into the country. His goods were all in the tin line, and we resolved to make a purchase by way of encouragement. I think he received such very effectually, for the shining metal proved very attractive, not to ourselves alone, but, luckily for him, to a neighbour who happened to be there. Wednesday, March 4. The chief incident of the day has been the departure of our servant Bridget. She had been with us between nine and ten months, something longer than any other we have had. Her deficiencies were many, but she had some good points for which I regret [the loss of] her. My mother thinks that I have led you to suppose that we have had a little more leisure this winter than the last. You must take a little to mean a very little, the whole amount at any

4 Recovered material (EP): ‘But I wish ... the lake opens.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 March 1840 273

time is but small. This is the inevitable result of the present state of the country, and a little too, perhaps, of a family habit of multiplying our undertakings.5 As to the first cause, there is no possibility of its diminishing, so far as I can see [...] Society and civilisation increase, but general facilities do not increase, therefore the more we advance, the more we must exert ourselves. However, as exertion is good for us all, there is no reason to complain of this. Our friend in need, Mary Scarry, is come to us to-day to see us over our party to-morrow, after which I suppose she will go back to the sugar-making, and we must get Sally Jordan as a help until we get a servant. Mary’s arrival does not give me the pleasure it used to do before my good opinion of her was shaken.6 Yet when I see her bright look, and hear her cheery voice, I can scarcely fancy there is the weight of evil conscience within. I begin to think that those lead the easiest lives who keep no servant, and can simplify their housekeeping arrangements accordingly. Mrs. Fraser and Mrs. Fidler are the enviable ones at present. The Dunsfords have been multiplying their cares, for they are keeping three servants now, and I am afraid are raising wages. John made another trip to Bobcaygeon today, but I think it will be his last, for the ice is getting baddish. There are some amusing love affairs going forward at the lower end, which give great entertainment to the two old bachelors (Mr. Need and John have lately acquired that character). [...] I have one grievance to record to-day – the post brings us no letter [from you]. Friday, March 6. [...] The day went off very well. The cooks performed well, the waiter performed well, and the guests performed well, doing justice to the entertainment, and laughing and talking very merrily. They were Mr. Need, Mr. Dunsford junior, Mr. Jones, Mr. Edward Atthill, Mr. M’Laren, and Mr. Unwin, a resident at present on Pigeon Lake, and a visitor here for the first time – a very grave, quiet personage. He rather contemplates settling on this lake, but I think not at our end. The large family of young people below [the Dunsfords], all full of gaiety and enjoyment, give a somewhat different character to the society there. We are much more sedate at this end, as may well be, for though pretty well evenly divided as to numbers, I daresay our united years are little short of double theirs. We are sometimes 5 Recovered material (EP): ‘This is the inevitable ... complain of this.’ 6 Recovered material (EP): ‘Mary’s arrival ... conscience within.’ A rumour against Mary Scarry’s trustworthiness had spread around the neighbourhood, but her reputation was restored at a later date.

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amused to see the youngest member of our family looked up to and made the confidante and adviser of so many juniors. The whole party were with us again at breakfast, after which a sleigh load descended the lake. The ice is very doubtful. John broke through on his last trip, and how his horses scrambled out he scarcely knows. Their hind legs were drawn in up to the rump, and he himself thrown upon their heels, but the sleigh never actually stopped. Its impetus, I suppose, materially assisted the horses in extricating themselves. The worst result was that John got very wet, and has a cold in consequence. I am glad to say he has nothing to take him on the ice again. To-day, after the house was restored to order, I made some preparations for a candle-making, that I may be ready to take advantage of the first cold day.7 As the operation takes place in the kitchen it must be really cold without to suit me [...] Sunday, March 8. Yesterday was a very uneventful day, and a very cold one. The wind blew through John’s house so much that he came to nurse his cold up here, and I am sorry to say it seems to require more of such treatment than his colds generally do. To-day, in consequence, we spent our Sunday at home. John and I have been looking over all our prints and drawings in search of something that will suit a lilliputian album, which has been handed to me for a contribution – the first thing of the kind that has reached this end of the world.8 This reminds me to tell you that I have just finished [embroidering] a pair of screens as a wedding present to Mr. Wallis.9 I think the performance very successful. They are on wood, in the old style, but a little more brilliant in colour than former ones. I have adopted turpentine and varnish instead of water-colour for my border, and the colouring-matter is no other than the powder blue you sent us out for less elegant purposes.10 When I have filled a leaf of the little album, I intend my industry to run in a more useful channel for the next six months. The bazaar will not now, I think, take place, in fact 7 Recovered material (EP): ‘To-day, after ... suit me.’ 8 Recovered material (EP): ‘John and I ... tell you that ... ’ Similar to autograph albums, keepsake/friendship albums were tokens of affection. Their contents included verses, drawings or prints. Natural flowers were sometimes pressed between pages to preserve them and the memories associated with them. See, for example, Langton Souvenir Mementos, which contains items contributed by their friends, mostly from the time of their European travels. JLFF, F 1077-12-0-1, AO. 9 Original notation (HHL): ‘He was married to Miss Janet Fisher at Kingston in the following May.’ 10 Blue powder was an agent for whitening laundry.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 March 1840 275

it has been all along too uncertain for anyone to prepare for it with any energy. [...]11 I believe our servant hunt is over for the present.12 Mary has intimated her desire to remain with us, for the two-fold purpose of earning something for her journey home [to Ireland], and of preparing her parents for her parting from her. The end to be accomplished is one that we shall be so glad to promote that I suppose we shall get over our other scruples, and if a good opportunity presented itself, I should be glad to help her towards her passage money, that she might at once join her husband at home, who is in too good employment to think of coming out. I can fancy it is a terrible struggle to leave her parents, but the sooner it is over the better.13 [...] Tuesday, March 10. There was a fall of snow last night that would have delighted us a fortnight ago. As it is, it can but partially restore the roads, for the old foundation was quite gone, and the sun has such power now that what is not well trodden down disappears most rapidly. However, we have been getting more firewood drawn in to-day, and may do so perhaps for a few days longer, which is a good thing. [...] I got my candle-making over to-day, and now I have only to fill the moulds a few times, and I shall have made up my half-cask of tallow. Ten dippings made very respectable candles to-day, whereas what I was obliged to make in summer after four-and-twenty were most miserable pig-tails. [...] Wednesday, March 11. The improved roads brought Mr. and Mrs. Dennistoun to return our call today. I rejoiced that they did not break in upon my candle-making yesterday. A small luncheon of cold ham, bread and butter, and a bun loaf was their entertainment. [...] This party was scarcely gone when Mr. Wallis arrived to engage John to go down with him to Peterboro, and possibly to Kingston, but that will not be known until they reach the former place. It appears that there has been a little playing at cross purposes.14 I cannot tell you the

11 Mr Wallis did not make his planned trip to Britain, so the bazaar never took place. However, Anne and John Langton and some other members of the community had already produced some of their intended offerings. 12 Recovered material (EP): ‘I believe ... a good thing [...] ‘ 13 Like H.H. Langton, I omit a brief entry for 9 March 1839. Mary Scarry did not, in fact, return to Ireland to rejoin her husband. 14 The ‘little playing at cross-purposes’ alludes to the forthcoming match of Mr. Wallis and Miss Fisher of Kingston.

276 Journals and Letters, 1840

whole story, but the conclusion I draw from it, and from the other romances of the neighbourhood, is that the gentlemen are not perfectly competent to manage the details of their ‘affairs’ without the assistance of female friends.15 Failing these, John is the confidant and adviser. A few preparations for John’s expedition succeeded the summons, and my mother’s skill as a laundress was put in requisition to make him presentable for the possible part he may have to play.16 The post brings no letters again, or English newspapers. Thursday, March 12. Mr. Wallis took an early breakfast with us, and the travellers were soon on their way, favoured by a beautiful morning. I presented my screens to Mr. Wallis, incomplete as yet for want of handles, which neither Toronto nor Kingston could furnish (what a country!), and the travellers were soon on their way. I have been again trying to drive a little intelligence into the untutored children of the forest. I have somewhat enlarged my system of tuition, and another branch of knowledge will be added to their extensive acquirements! I get assistance from my mother and Aunt Alice; the former has taken one little scribe entirely under her superintendence, and the latter often hears one or other of the reading lessons. Mr. Fidler has twentyeight pupils, some much more advanced in years and accomplishments than mine.17 My mother has been again supplying the deficiencies of our washerwoman, which oblige us to keep all the better table linen at home, and every other article whose smoothness is of much importance.18 Friday, March 13. [...] My mother has been writing to you a letter which will probably reach you before this journal. A visit to John’s house, a little candle-making, and an hour or two of steady sewing, have filled up the day. I am afraid the weather is getting mild again, which will be bad for the travellers. Sunday, March 15. Yesterday I scribbled a page or two in my mother’s letter instead of journalising. The bright sunshine took my mother down to John’s house, which 15 Recovered material (EP): ‘I cannot tell ... female friends.’ 16 Recovered material (EP): ‘A few ... beautiful morning.’ 17 Mr. Fidler established his school at Fenelon a year or so after Anne Langton began giving lessons at Blythe Farm. 18 Recovered material (EP): ‘My mother ... instead of journalising.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 March 1840 277

generally has a visit from us during his absence to receive a little extra dusting. Aunt Alice the most frequently walks down to it, being chief superintendent of his wardrobe. [...] The roads are very indifferent at present. Mr. Wallis got an upset the other morning coming down, in going through a mudhole. We cannot afford to spend much labour upon roadmaking in this country. The trees cannot be cut down close to the ground. When there is plenty of snow, the low stumps are covered, but as it disappears, more and more skill is required in keeping clear of them and of other hindrances. John is a very careful driver. The Sunday evening amusement of reading old letters is not yet exhausted. We perused a year’s correspondence to-day, dated Mount Pleasant,19 where such a tissue of domestic troubles was recorded as made one well satisfied to suffer here chiefly those arising from ignorance, and other deficiencies incident to a wild uncultured education. I say chiefly, for the human soil is full of all sorts of weeds here as elsewhere, but many are necessarily stunted in so rigid a clime which thrive most luxuriantly in the hot-bed of a large city.20 At home, there being a class regularly educated for service it gives good facilities on the one hand, but on the other that class forms a sort of party, constantly striving for its own interests in opposition to those of the party it serves. The very circumstance of difficulty in procuring servants, too, tends to make one more willing to endure trifling imperfections. You take them in a measure ‘for better for worse,’ and in some degree the happy results of an indissoluble connection may ensue. Our little damsel of last winter is now living with Mrs. Hamilton, and, I understand, in favour. She has no fellow-servant now, which will suit her peculiar disposition better, and powers she certainly possesses. [...] Monday, March 16. A busy day. We had scarcely got through the extra morning’s occupations when school assembled, and the children had scarcely got settled to their books when Mr. Fidler arrived.21 They and their books were dispersed in a second or two, for we had omitted to have a schoolroom fire to-day. Aunt Alice and I took it in turns to be with the children and our guest. [...]

19 Mount Pleasant: the Langtons’ first home after selling Blythe Hall was on Mount Pleasant in Liverpool, one of the finer residential areas in the city. 20 Langton’s comments are echoed by Mrs West, who warns of perniciousness influences in cities, which result in servants devoting ‘a larger portion of every week to idleness and intemperance’ (Letters to a Young Lady, vol. II, 487). 21 Recovered material (EP): ‘A busy day ... our guest.’

278 Journals and Letters, 1840

I was pleased to hear the following little circumstance from Mr. Fidler. Half a dozen of his elder scholars of their own accord brought their axes with them one day, and as soon as school was over betook themselves to the wood, borrowed a horse and sleigh, and before night brought in several loads of firewood, and piled them up at his door. The evening has been busy too, we are preparing for a great muslin wash, and shall have the pleasure of using our English starch. Tuesday, March 17. We had a misfortune this morning. A ham we had put to smoke down the chimney got somewhat over roasted, so that the meat slipped out of the skin and came tumbling down upon the fire, all broken to pieces, of course, but we got a little savoury picking out of it. We have been rather famous for our hams hitherto, but I am afraid we shall fail this year, both in quantity and quality. We got through our ironing to-day, and the starch performed very well except for chapping my hands a little. They have escaped altogether this winter, owing to my wearing mittens very constantly. [...] Tomorrow is once more post-day.22 Will the evening bring us our longexpected letter? I look forward with less expectation than I have done before, we have so often been disappointed in our hopes. It is now very nearly three months since we heard from you. Thursday, March 19. The post brought us no letter from you yesterday. Twelve newspapers and three letters were spread before us, and not one of the latter was from England. Our disappointment was great. Even if one letter is lost, it is high time to look for another. We may possibly get some interest from the letters that did arrive when they come to be opened. Nothing of any interest occurred either yesterday or to-day. We have been trying to concoct legs of pork from the pickle tub into hams. I manufactured a few sweet biscuits, and my mother rummaged over places that had got a little out of order. She is preparing for a grand scouring, of which you will probably hear tomorrow. We have been tantalised with a little snow both these days.23 This one was ushered in with thunder, then pretty thick snow, subsequently a little rain, and at last a very dense aguish-looking fog. The roads must be terrible for a bridal party. I went down to John’s, and almost stuck fast at

22 Recovered material (EP): ‘To-morrow is ... either yesterday or to-day.’ 23 Recovered material (EP): ‘We have been ... fog.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 March 1840 279

each step in a glutinous mud, with which also I had the pleasure of making a nearer acquaintance.24 Friday, March 20. The details of to-day were anything but pleasant; the result, however, is very satisfactory. We got Sally Jordan to come and give her assistance, and we ladies were as busy as the servants, rubbing furniture, etc. Not, however, busier than we have been on a like occasion at Bootle. Here, indeed, we may make a comparison in favour of this much-abused country. You lose no respect by such exertions. In Mount Pleasant, where our establishment was very small, we used occasionally at busy times to make our beds. On one occasion a house-maid, receiving her dismissal, was inclined to retaliate by a little insolence, and told us we certainly were no ladies, or we should not make beds. Here one of our domestics would be surprised, and perhaps think herself a little ill-used if, in any extra bustle, we should be sitting in our drawing-room. They are apt to think it quite right that we should be taking our due share, and are certainly our ‘helps,’ though we do not call them so, as in the States. I cannot perceive that anything like disrespect is engendered by this relative position of mistress and maid. Sunday, March 22. I was prevented taking out my journal last night by the arrival of our two travellers John and Wallis. There will be no bride, it appears, for two or three weeks longer. The gentlemen were at Coburg, undergoing together the agreeable operation of tooth-drawing. That there should have been an expedition at all in an uncertainty about the marriage must appear strange on your side of the water. But when you consider the state of the post in this country, where three weeks might easily elapse before an interchange of letters could take place, circumstances may be conceived to render it necessary. The Bishop’s letter from Toronto about the grant to the church arrived ten days after date; had it required an answer six more days must necessarily pass before one could be despatched, which might be two more on the road. Intercourse is slow and uncertain to a degree quite unknown in a land of mail-coaches and macadamised roads. [...] All the news the travellers brought home related to the present prevailing topic. If I were to give it to you I should get quite too gossiping. Even the public news is about marrying and giving in marriage, the Queen’s wedding being the latest arrived.25 24 H.H. Langton ends this sentence at ‘mud.’ 25 Queen Victoria married Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha in February 1840.

280 Journals and Letters, 1840

Wednesday, March 25.26 I have passed three days – they are easily narrated. Monday was only distinguished by the slaughtering of a pig (not by ourselves), and Tuesday the cutting up of the said animal. In the evening our carpenter arrived to commence preparations for the new building, and various preliminary discussions interfered with my usual plan of taking out my journal, and led us to talk until a very late hour. The plan has been slightly altered from the one we sent you, so when anything is definitely settled I will sketch you another. Thursday, March 26. If you would have any of my thoughts on a Thursday you must be content with reminiscences of school hours. I tried two of my scholars for the first time in writing from dictation. The results were about equal. Two of my least, who have just accomplished counting to one hundred, wrote me the figures up to that number very correctly, and one of them beautifully. Some of my very little ones begin evidently to have a pleasure in reading an easy book. It is rather unfortunate that my very biggest should also be my very dullest. In calculation I hear them very much all in a class, and where [when?] I can multiply my number of slates, I may be able to extend the system of simultaneous instruction a little further, but it is not in many things that children of fourteen and seven can go on together. Friday, March 27. Unpacking and repacking barrels of pork, and boiling pickle made this a busy day, and there is more of the same sort to do to-morrow. Not so, I am happy to say, with regard to what has been of late a daily occupation, for I have put the last tallow into the moulds. I begin to feel ashamed of recording these household occupations. You have had enough of them to form an idea of how we go on, so I think I shall drop these vulgar matters in future journals. We had a begging petition to-day, the second only since we came into this country. The former one was on the occasion of the death of a cow; this was on the levy of a fine with costs for selling whiskey without a license. Every one seemed disposed to open their purse-strings, for though the man, of course, was wrong, his case seemed hard, because the fining magistrate is a tavern-keeper. Law is rather curiously carried on in this irregular country. On one occasion damage had been awarded, and the jury gave

26 Recovered material (EP): ‘Wednesday ... go on together.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–31 March 1840 281

in some curious sum, ending with odd shillings, pence, and halfpence. It was proved that they had not been able to come to an agreement what the sum should be, so struck an average of the different amounts advocated. Saturday, March 28.27 Pickling, packing, and smoking went on at a great rate again to-day; stewing, etc., will have to come next week; but enough of house-keeping details. Rain has set in to-day, which seems to promise early opening of the waters. As John, however, must go down to Peterboro to attend a meeting on the seventh of April, we are hoping the ice may continue passable until then, as it scarcely can disappear before that time. All the frost we have had since the ground was uncovered will have killed, I suppose, half the wheat in the country. Sunday, March 29. [...] I omitted to tell you that the Bishop promises to advocate Mr. Fidler’s cause with the ‘Society for the Propagation of the Gospel,’ so I hope he may receive the full allowance of a hundred a year, which is their usual grant. Monday, March 30. We have to-day most particular cause to be thankful; John’s house has had a narrow escape of being burnt down. Yesterday afternoon John’s man, William Ellis, set out to walk with our carpenter to Jordan’s, but after going part of the way, changed his mind, and turned back, and also just stepped by chance into John’s house. The floor had taken fire, and one of the beams was quite burnt through. The fire was soon extinguished, but a very short time more might have made a very difficult case of it. When a log gets burnt through and breaks in the middle, the parts often fall asunder with some force, and scatter fragments far and wide. Such, most probably, had been the case now, and had not the man turned back, John would, in all probability, have returned this morning to find his little home a heap of ashes, and all his clothes, papers, and valuables of all sorts consumed. It frightens one to think of it only. In what consternation we should have been. There is something awful in these wooden habitations, especially after one has seen one ablaze. There was a very considerable fire a short time ago at Peterboro. To be burnt out is a very common occurrence here. May it never be our fate! … 28

27 Recovered material (EP): ‘Saturday, ... in the country.’ 28 Recovered material (EP): ‘May it ... any anxiety.’

282 Journals and Letters, 1840

Tuesday, March 31. The month leaves us in frost and snow. My feeling with regard to the post this week is that if ever we are to have another letter, it must come now. [Editorial note (EP): In a letter dated May 16 mention is made of the arrival of two letters, dated February 23 and March 11, both of which arrived in April, and had been an unusually long time on the way. [...] Wallis’s marriage took place during the month of May, an event in the Fenelon circle of friends and neighbours.] From the journal of Anne Langton, 1–27 June 1840 Monday, June 1. I believe it is a fortnight since our last letters went, during which time my cold and Aunt Alice’s leg have been improving, and both the one and the other have ceased to give any anxiety. A week ago, however, we were so little satisfied about Aunt Alice that we despatched our youth down to Peterboro for the doctor. But regardless of the ten dollars that would have been his, he has not attended our call, and happily, it appears we shall do without him. Early last week John went down to Peterboro to attend a meeting of magistrates, and on Friday he returned, rowing up Mr. and Mrs. Wallis, and accompanied by Mr. Atthill, who has at length made his reappearance among us. Yesterday I and the gentlemen went to church.29 My mother was not up to it, being less well than usual, I believe in consequence of some fly-bites, which swell and inflame with her greatly, when on her face and neck. I think we shall give up our rambles into the bush for the present. The bride and bridegroom [the Wallises] did not appear at church. I believe they intended it, but wishing to avoid coming in too early they put it off too long. There is something much more public in our little church than in your large ones at home. You can walk quietly into your pew, and, when the service is over, quietly out of it. Here everyone knows everybody, and when the clergyman has given his blessing you find yourself in a room, surrounded by your friends and acquaintances, and a general sort of greeting commences. Did we greet one another with a holy kiss it would be all very well, but we shake hands, say ‘How do you do,’ – ‘Very fine day,’ etc., just as we should do anywhere else, which is not altogether agreeable to one’s old feelings of propriety. Our friend Mr. Atthill gave us a sermon. I do not suppose I ever saw

29 Recovered material (EP): ‘Yesterday I and ... one at present.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–27 June 1840 283

him so long serious together before. His clerical profession has left him just what he was, and our risible muscles have been pretty well exercised within the last few days. [...] We have just been despatching an invitation to the Dennistouns for Thursday – I hope they will come. Tuesday, June 2. Our invitation was accepted, and just as we were pondering upon the best method of manufacturing a top, bottom, and four corners out of pork and poultry, arrived a present of veal from Mrs. Hoare. No hare or pheasant ever arrived more opportunely than did this rarity, unseen here for two years. It has set our minds at rest so completely that we have not again discussed the arrangement of our viands.30 John, I fancy, will have invited some other friends from the lower end, by way of giving a little variety.31 I begin to wish the day were over, and to lament that we have nothing more juvenile and attractive for the entertainment of the youthful bride. I must try to brighten up for the occasion, but I feel myself fast approaching six-andthirty, little less than double the age of Mrs. Dennistoun. [...] I daresay the voices of the Miss Dunsfords are again enchanting them this evening, and that bad weather for once has been rather welcome than otherwise. [...] Thursday, June 4. Yesterday presented nothing worthy of observation.32 A few preparations were made for the coming entertainment. The day was pretty fine, yet brought us no tidings of our gentlemen. My mother got a little fidgety towards night. However, they reached the landing, accompanied by Mr. Boyd, early in the morning. I perceived them as I stepped out of bed, and they arrived to breakfast. Having made our room ready for Mrs. Dennistoun, I slipped from under my mosquito curtains, and counted eleven bites upon my face only. I shall be a beauty to-night. They do not, however, swell and inflame at all like what they used to do.33 The first sting, however, remains as painful as ever, and how painful when there are scores upon you at once, you can scarcely imagine.

30 For a discussion of food as ‘the most bountiful expression of genteel housewifery,’ see Vickery, Gentleman’s Daughter, 151. 31 Recovered material (EP): ‘John, I fancy ... youthful bride.’ 32 H.H. Langton omits this sentence. I retain some of Langton’s comments about lack of noteworthy material to reflect both her ongoing frustration and her determination not to give up her journal writing project. 33 Recovered material (EP): ‘They do not ... to look aside.’

284 Journals and Letters, 1840

Friday, June 5. All hands were busy yesterday. John’s friends had induced him to stay another day by the promise to help him to paint a boat, so they were engaged upon the Fairy all the morning under the woodshed, just in front of the kitchen window, where many of our operations proceeded. I must say they had the consideration not to look aside [at us]. The dinner prepared was soup at the top, removed by a boiled fillet of veal, pork at bottom; corners, spring chickens, ham and veal steaks, and maccaroni. Second course, pudding, tart, trifle, and cheese cakes. It did not all appear upon the table, however, as we were disappointed of our principal guests.34 Mr. and Mrs. Dennistoun sent their excuses; the latter was not quite well, and the weather was rather doubtful. [...] Edward Atthill too, who was to have come, only arrived in the evening35 so we were quite a small party, and some of our luxuries were reserved for luncheon to-day, when we expect two boats-full of Dunsfords, coming up to pay their respects to the bride at the Falls.36 When we, who had worked in sight of each other all day, cast off our red shirts and our aprons, and dressed ourselves like ladies and gentlemen at home to sit down to our meal, I was reminded of children playing at a feast, the girls having prepared it, while the boys painted their little boat. [...] Saturday, June 6.37 This morning we were to go up to pay our visit to Mr. Wallis, but the weather did not promise to befriend us. However, we made our preparations so much the sooner in hopes of getting there and back before rain, and actually embarked in our canoe. The wind rose so rapidly, however, that we decided to desist from the undertaking. As the rain was not quite at hand we took a little sail into the middle of the lake, meeting all the big waves by way of getting a tossing, and being reminded a little of the ocean. I enjoyed it, being my first canoe expedition in a gale. There has been a small shower, but I very much fear the regular downfall is reserving itself for to-morrow. Our cat, who was the greatest pet imaginable, has mysteriously disappeared – we do not seem to keep our cats.

34 Recovered material (EP): ‘It did not ... were quite ... ’ 35 Edward Atthill: a visiting brother of Richard Atthill, see Langton’s journal entry of 9 June 1840. 36 Original notation (HHL): ‘Mrs. Wallis.’ 37 Recovered material (EP): ‘Saturday ... Mr. Atthill read prayers.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–27 June 1840 285

Tuesday, June 9. From Saturday to Tuesday is rather a long interval. Yesterday my pen was otherwise employed, namely, in writing to my dear little Alice, as I have changed my mind and sent her a letter by Mr. Atthill. I will return to where I left off and proceed regularly with the main narrative of our transactions. [...] Edward Atthill arrived again to dinner on Saturday, and shortly afterwards the storm burst in good earnest, and happily cleared the atmosphere for Sunday. However, the wind continued so high that my mother did not venture to church, as she wished to have done. We juniors did and Mr. Atthill read prayers. The bride was in church, and as she wore white gloves, I suppose it was considered a formal appearance, though most informal it appeared, as she sat on one bench and her husband several benches behind her. She was dressed in a rich drab silk, with fancy straw, or chip bonnet, and white ribbons. She is far from a nice-looking woman when in morning costume.38 After church we walked up with her, which visit she must accept as a call for the present.39 Mr. Wallis has got a verandah now put up, which is a great improvement to the house, and I hear with pleasure that he has commenced building a new kitchen. Rumour has been pleased to say that he was likely to leave the neighbourhood, but these improvements do not look as if he contemplated it himself.40 We returned [home] to dinner, and in the evening, Mr. Atthill took leave of us, and went down the lake with his brother. John has set out to join him, and to-morrow they proceed on their journey. On Sunday we sat up very late, listening to and talking over all the news John had picked up during his visit to Peterboro and since. Another love affair has been confided to him by one of our circle. It is to end in nothing, but there is one feature in the case so novel and so droll that I must tell it you. The lady, though afterwards more distinct in her refusal, at first replied to congratulations that she was engaged to her suitor until the first of October, and though she should certainly never marry the gentleman, yet that before that date she could not consider herself at liberty to form any other engagement. It was more than a week afterwards that the gentleman further ascer-

38 Recovered material (EP): ‘She is far ... their journey.’ 39 The Langtons had not yet made their first formal social call, complete with calling card, on the newcomer. In the Old World, such a formal initial visit was considered obligatory. It was the custom for the person(s) of lower social rank to make the first call, on the person(s) of higher rank. See Errington, Wives and Mothers, 161–2. 40 Wallis left the neighbourhood within the year to take up permanent residence in Peterborough, retaining his Fenelon residence as a summer home only.

286 Journals and Letters, 1840

tained her determination also not to marry himself. On Monday we received John’s instructions respecting garden, etc., and made preparation for the departure, making out a list of errands for him at Toronto, and writing letters for Mr. Atthill to take. [...]41 We had a visit from Mr. and Mrs. Dennistoun in the afternoon, one of apology, I suppose, for breaking their engagement. Mrs. Dennistoun looked very pretty. [...] Monday being one of my ordinary schooldays, I may as well tell you that I have declared holiday for a short time – perhaps a month. I began to feel the want of this additional liberty on sundry accounts. I intend to have another holiday during harvest, for at that time they come so irregularly that it is just as well not to have them at all. John started this afternoon in his canoe. When the time came, he looked as if he did not half like leaving his concerns here, but I hope they will go on smoothly. The chief business on hand at present is happily under Taylor’s inspection, being the drains and foundations of the new building, erecting the fence, preparing lime, etc. As for the rest, we shall surely manage amongst us to superintend it.42 I am captain of the Fairy during his absence. I shall only feel the charge a heavy one at the moment of steering her in to port, lest I should scrape a little of the bright green paint from her sides. The garden, I am afraid, will not do any of us credit this year, notwithstanding the pains bestowed upon it. The long spell of dry weather was much against it, and the late rains have not revived it much. We have a brood of ducklings out to-day – our first essay in this line. Ducks require great care in this country, the winter does not suit them, but we intend to make the experiment. Wednesday, June 10. This morning we thought we were going to have visitors to breakfast. A boat was at the landing with a parasol in it. It was Mr and Mrs. Hoare going a trip down the lake, and they left word that they would call as they came back, and take a cup of tea with us, which they accordingly did. This is the first time my mother has seen the lady, and she pronounces her a good sort of woman, which is just the description I should give of her. I am glad to see that she seems much more happy and cheerful than she used to be. We had many discussions on topics connected with women’s duties in this country – the management of a dairy, etc., I think it very likely that we may get a useful hint or two from her experience. She makes her butter in the

41 Recovered material (EP): ‘ ... and writing ... them at all.’ 42 Recovered material (EP): ‘[A]s for the rest ... the experiment.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–27 June 1840 287

Devonshire fashion, and I think in winter it may be an improvement upon our own way, for we are sadly plagued with the cream getting a bitter taste, which many consider is in consequence of cold. Perhaps the scalding may make it keep better. The various methods of making bread, cheese, candles, etc., were also commented upon, so you see what ladies talk about here. These useful topics are, however, not unmingled with a little general gossip. [...] Thursday, June 11. This day did not bring our expected visitors, Mr. and Mrs. Wallis, but another party – Mr. and Mrs. Fidler and their four young ones. All our visitors seem coming at once. These and those of yesterday, I fancy, have been waiting for the same event to set them at liberty – the launching of Mr. Hoare’s boat. This is a new craft on the lake. There used to be so few that there was little difficulty in naming any that passed, but it is very different now. Mr. and Mrs. Wallis went down the lake a little after eleven, and passed here on their return between eight and nine, so I think they have returned the Dunsfords’ visit fully – in length. We did a little weeding in the garden in the morning, and this afternoon, being in expectation of visitors, I sat down quietly to read, and took up Robinson Crusoe, which is about as new to me as if I had never read it.43 We are a little dismayed tonight by finding that Taylor, our carpenter, is going home again, and that the new building must pause for a week or ten days. He has a house to build for himself this summer, besides his crops to look after. Had we known this a little earlier, we could have offered the consolation of fellow-sufferers to Mr. Fidler, who is greatly annoyed at the slow progress of his house, and has evidently not yet acquired the portion of patience requisite for a resident in the woods.44 Friday, June 12. A cool, cloudy morning sent us all a-weeding into the garden. John would not have been well pleased to see some of us at work, but so long as anything wants doing it is very difficult, and for my mother perfectly impossible, to keep quiet, so there can be no quiet for her in this country. We tried to get some of the children to weed, but none can be spared, everybody is planting potatoes. Our kitchen garden being new ground requires a great

43 Recovered material (EP): ‘We did a little weeding... never read it.’ 44 Recovered material (EP): ‘Had we known ... in the woods.’

288 Journals and Letters, 1840

deal of attention in this respect. People can never increase their comforts without at the same time adding to their cares. The rain sent us in, and I got a little more work out of my needle than I often do. One ought to get all one’s sewing done in winter, for though gardening is by no means a regular occupation now, yet, one way or other, time slips away most sadly at this season. We have a subject of anxiety at present which, as peculiar to this country, I must relate. The horses are wandering somewhere in the bush, and day after day a man is employed in hunting for them, but they do not turn up. [...] When Mr. Toker went to England John agreed to take his horses during his absence, in order that he might keep two ploughs going, also providing himself with a new plough.45 This, on the first day’s using, broke, and though it could easily be repaired by the blacksmith, yet none other could do it, and our Vulcan had the day before met with a severe accident. So John’s plans were frustrated, yet he had his two pairs of horses to keep. He is not well off for pasture this year, and a little time since, as is a common practice here, he turned his own pair out into the bush, taking them by water to Sturgeon point, that they might not come straight home. Now that it is time to look after them the search seems more difficult than we expected, and though the men seem to think it impossible they can be lost, their prolonged absence makes one very uneasy. Saturday, June 13.46 There was a great clearance in the garden to-day. We got two weeders, and the rain had softened the ground for the operation. We continued to take a part ourselves, for it was cool, with a beautiful breeze from the lake. I had the Fairy put into the water, but she leaks quite too much for our use tomorrow. We have the promise of a boat, however, for Mr. and Mrs. Wallis called in the afternoon, and the former, hearing of our difficulty, proposed to send for us. They brought our letters and papers. [...] Sunday, June 14. The Calypso came for us, pulled by Mr. M’Laren and Mr. Hutchinson. It was a fine and cool morning, which was much in my mother’s favour, and we were in time to take the hill in a leisurely way. We had quite a gay congregation, there being no fewer than seven ladies. The bride looked much 45 Original notation (HHL): ‘Mr. Toker’s daughter married a son of Mr. Dunsford. He owned the land around Red Rock, according to his granddaughters, the Misses Dunsford of Lindsay.’ 46 Recovered material (EP): ‘Saturday ... seven ladies.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–27 June 1840 289

better than on the Sunday of her first appearance. Her dress was of another shade, richer than the former. I think it would have stood erect by itself. From John’s observations last Sunday, and my mother’s to-day, I find I look somewhat too simply dressed and unfashionable amongst them. I have no objection to improve in the latter respect as I wear out my present stock and get more knowledge of what ought to be. But if I can keep a resolution I will not improve in the former. If the follies and extravagances of the world are to be introduced upon Sturgeon Lake, we might as well, I think, move on to Galt Lake. But they are not only follies and absurdities, but terrible inconsistencies, which makes them tenfold more childish.47 The Major and I discussed the subject – not the ladies’ dress, but absurdities in general, and agreed in our apprehension concerning them. I am aware that it is very possible to carry rationality to an irrational extreme, but notwithstanding, I must confess myself to be still on the foolish side of the right medium. I am afraid women deteriorate in this country more than the other sex. As long as the lady is necessarily the most active member of her household, she keeps her ground from her utility; but when the state of semicivilisation arrives, and the delicacies of her table, and the elegancies of her person become her chief concern and pride, then she must fall, and must be contented to be looked upon as belonging merely to the decorative department of the establishment and valued accordingly. The gentlemen dined with us after bringing us home. We were glad to have the Major’s counsel respecting the stray horses. Though we had three men in the woods to-day (being the only day on which there was a chance of mustering so many), and their visible tracks were seen, yet these men came home at an early hour without them. [...] My mother is a little tired to-night, not altogether with her bodily exertions, but in part with talking and listening more than usual. She heard Mr. Fidler much better than she expected, and was much pleased with his sermon. [...] [T]hough an advocate of good dressing, she does not defend a wreath of tiny roses ornamenting the inside of Mrs. Fidler’s white-silk bonnet. She thought that I looked much more like the parson’s wife. Poor Miss Fidler was a contrast to her pretty step-mother, being very homely and forlorn in her appearance. I warned you I should write a womanish journal!

47 Recovered material (EP): ‘But they are not ... right medium.’

290 Journals and Letters, 1840

Monday, June 15.48 A windy, comfortless day; ‘nice and cool,’ said my mother – ‘very cold,’ said Aunt Alice and I. We have all enjoyed a fire, however. My mother and Aunt Alice were still busy in the garden; this time, however, amongst the flowers. I deserted, but was not idle within doors. Tuesday June, 16. [...] I had the Fairy put into the water again, it being now calm, in hopes that she may staunch in a few days, perhaps before next Sunday. In the afternoon we had the great satisfaction of seeing the men return each with a horse. I must say I had begun to be very despairing, and visions of falling trees and legs broken in swamps, wolves, etc., rose before me. Great was the general joy at this reappearance, but as it subsided, my mother observed that it was not proportioned to our concern at their absence. This reminded me of a sermon of Mr. Mayow’s on the unsatisfying nature of earthly possessions, when he illustrated part of his subject by this very circumstance – ‘a man that has two horses is not therefore a happy man, but if he comes to lose them he is immediately an unhappy man. [...]’ The flower that has been contemplated with most delight this season was a little daisy, which has unaccountably found its way on to our grass plot. We had none of us seen one for years, and it was greeted by all, in parlour and kitchen, as an old friend. [...] Thursday, June 18.49 I noted down in my other journal the various doings on the farm for John’s information to-day. The men were at a ‘Bee’ of Jordan’s, the result of which is the logging of five acres. Jordan is a very thriving man. His family are all come to working years, and he makes them work. His daughter Sally is a great ‘belle’ and much looked after by the young farmers about. I quite dread losing her from the neighbourhood, as she has often helped us in our needs. My mother and aunt spent a great part of the day in John’s house. I was more selfishly engaged with my dressmaking.

48 Recovered material (EP): ‘Monday ... next Sunday.’ 49 Recovered material (EP): ‘Thursday ... the offender.’ Vickery refers to the symbols of housewifery: keys and the lady’s memorandum book, the latter being ‘the means and the emblem of mastery of information, without which the upper hand was lost and prudent economy obliterated … They catalogue the regime of the mistress housekeeper’s vigilant administration’ (Gentleman’s Daughter, 133).

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–27 June 1840 291

Friday, June 19. My mother still lives out of doors. Winds, something like our Bootle winds, keep off the mosquitos. We have lost five out of our seven ducklings to-day, which some of us take much to heart. John’s cat is suspected to be the offender. Saturday, June 20. We had been wishing to go up to the Falls all this week for my mother to make her calls upon all the newcomers. Our boat was sufficiently staunch, but the winds were too high. This morning, after many deliberations, we decided to go. We took an early dinner, and started between two and three. We first walked up to Mr. Wallis’s and there had the pleasure of dropping our cards for the first time since we came to the backwoods. Mr. and Mrs. Wallis had gone down to Peterboro early this morning, to remain away about a fortnight. Painting, etc., appears to be going forward, so the bride means to polish up the bachelor’s mansion. When they return they will be accompanied by some of Mrs. Wallis’s Kingston friends. [...] After leaving Mr. Wallis’s we called on Mrs. Fidler and Mrs. Hoare, and accepted the offer of a cup of tea from the last-named lady. Mr. Hoare went for Mrs. Fidler to join us, and we spent a sociable afternoon, being in our boat again, I think, before six.50 Mr. Hoare took my mother into his garden, and Mrs. Hoare took me into her dairy, etc. We got a present of a cowslip. I mentioned our little daisy. Mrs. Fidler did not even know what a daisy was! [...] The two elder ladies are a little overdone to-night with their exertions. The weather is becoming hot again. [...]51 Monday, June 22. High wind again. We have been preserving near a quart of strawberries today, such fine strawberries! I do verily believe they are somewhat larger than the very largest pin-head you ever saw. I am glad to tell you that Taylor is come to resume his work again!

50 Original notation (HHL): ‘He was Mr. Jameson’s father-in-law and with Mrs. Hoare now occupied Jameson’s former house at Fenelon Falls.’ 51 Recovered material (EP): ‘The two elder … hence the invitation.’ H.H. Langton closes the entry for this day at ‘what a daisy was!’ He does not resume the narrative until Anne Langton’s letter of 14 August 1840.

292 Journals and Letters, 1840

Wednesday, June 24. [...] The breakfast table this morning was ornamented with flowers and a cake in honour of me! I number to-day one more year, and get on very fast towards the awful age of forty! I can scarcely fancy myself within four years of it. We had a visit from Mr. Boyd to-day, who was going round to collect men for a ‘Bee’ next week. These ‘Bees’ are far too frequent. John has never had but the one of last year, and I wish he had not had that one, so that I might be sweeping in my condemnation of them. We are in alarm about John’s beautiful cat, who has not been seen these two days. William will understand a little what the loss of a pet animal is. You cannot either of you, however, rightly know how John values his cat, the companion of his solitary home, for the dogs give preference to the [farm]house where there is a kitchen. Puss would follow him about like a dog, and was one of the oldest animals about the place. I cannot think what happens to cats. Saturday, June 27. I might have spared you this lament, for puss has turned up. However, such little troubles and alarms are characteristic, and the mention of them may help you to remember our peculiarities. On Thursday afternoon John got home, after the longest absence he has ever made from us. We were very glad to see him again, though we had been well pleased to see him depart. He seems to have seen some agreeable people, and extended his acquaintance a little. When once he has a good wife by his side, I shall not care about his seeing the world, any more than I care about myself seeing it. But whilst his choice is still unmade, I must say I wish for him a more extensive field of observation than our own circle affords. [...] I am sorry you have had any anxiety respecting the execution of our commissions – I have no misgivings about them. If you knew how difficult it is to get good things here, even in our metropolis! you would understand how thankful we are to you for undertaking to satisfy our wants from home. We are perhaps sometimes vague in our directions – often, I believe, purposely, in order to leave you at liberty to be guided by circumstances. I remembered mentioning in a former letter, but I ought to have repeated it in giving the order, that my mother wanted Dutch dolls, thinking she might dress a squaw, with her family about her, for which reason they were to be of different sizes. I am annoyed at my own carelessness in omitting to state the dimensions of the picture frame, so poor Rome must live in its dark home for another twelve months. I must tell you that I have finished my dress and that it fits very well. [...] We have ascertained that our goods are still up at Port Hope. A further effort to get them here has proved ineffectual. We have rain at last, which

Letter from Ellen Langton, 14 August 1840 293

will be very refreshing. I must close my journal for the post, although it is not yet the last day of the month.52 Extracts from a Letter from Ellen Langton to William Langton, 14 August 184053 I claim to be first on the sheet to congratulate you and dear Margaret, on the birth of your little boy, the intelligence of which reached us on August 2. ... Thank you for the intention of adding my family name [Currer], but it is now become extinct, and it is well to leave it forgotten. I was much interested with the account of how the little girls received the new arrival. I wonder Alice was not more delighted with the novelty of a brother, but I doubt not he will grow much in favour. Ellen’s ‘I love it!’ was very pretty, and came from the heart and feeling. I am busy with my flower beds, which are now gay – the early frosts we sometimes have, threaten the tomatos. ... I have ventured to church the last two Sundays, as the days were cooler. The boat tires me more than the hill up to the church. Your Aunt Alice surprised me this morning by preparing herself to accompany John to the Falls. We have felt the want of some common crockery ware, and she was determined to see what the Store contained. Her return reminded me of what your dear father used to say – that he knew when Miss Currer had been in town by the number of little parcels in the Boot (of the carriage). 52 Original notation (EP): ‘In a letter dated July 15, 1840, my grandmother laments the unfortunate change in the fortunes of the Stansfields (her niece married Mr. Stansfield), owing to Mr. Stansfield’s speculations. The family had apparently made a home in Jersey. The longexpected package had arrived from Port Hope, but another was due, and still not forthcoming. Some dahlias sent had, unfortunately, perished on the journey. The garden had done well during this year – beans were failures always, but French beans, tomatos [sic], vegetable marrow, carrots, turnips, asparagus, onions, etc., all flourished, and the newly-planted strawberries gave promise of well-doing. ‘Mary’ (Scarry) still talked of joining her husband in Ireland, and if she carried out her intention, would be a great loss. My grandmother did much house-maiding herself, brushing and dusting, and had been gratified by an exclamation of Mr. Atthill’s, ‘all looks so tidy!’ The visit of Mr. Bolton and his bride had gone off very well. Mrs. Bolton, was a handsome American lady, about thirty-eight or forty, and confided the story of her matrimonial affairs. Mr. Bolton had proposed to her during a seven-years’ engagement to her first husband, who died after three years of married life; and when Mr. Bolton’s first wife died opportunely ten years after, she accepted his second offer. It was hoped that Mr. Bolton might be of some service in using his influence, as a county member [of the Legislative Assembly of Upper Canada] with regard to a proposed road; hence the invitation.’ 53 Recovered material (EP): ‘Extracts ... next month’s diary.’ Original notation (EP): ‘Henry Currer Langton, born June 23, 1840; died Nov. 25, 1902.’ William and Margaret’s first son, Thomas, was born in 1834, but lived only a year.

294 Journals and Letters, 1840

Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 14 August 1840 [Editorial note (EP): After adding her congratulations on the birth of a nephew, and commenting on some family events [...], the letter records some additions to the journal of June.] The operations on the new room are suspended in consequence of our finding it desirable to lath and plaster the wash-house, with the rooms above it.54 This was a frame building, and the outer shell was at one time deemed sufficient, but on various accounts we have now judged otherwise. The outside of these buildings must also be painted, for their preservation. ... I have this week commenced the piece of worsted-work we brought out, and have finished the spread eagle. If I proceed diligently it will form quite a variety in my next month’s diary. To sit at an embroidery frame is a contrast to my frame of dip candles. Thank you for the information you got for me [on candle-making]. Part of it will be useful, but the plan of dipping by means of a pulley is scarcely applicable to my small scale of operations.55 More frequently I have a very small quantity of tallow, so that a box to admit six or seven candles is all I can well afford, as I have no means of keeping up the temperature but by replenishing from the fire. A small stick with six candles on it can be dipped by the hand as easily as any other way. What I have gained from your enquiries is that I ought to raise them from the tallow more slowly than I have been accustomed to do. ... I have sent a contribution to the nursery album (‘Puss asleep in Aunt Currer’s work-basket’).56 The original is often placed in the centre of our table to divert us with its gambols, and often takes possession of the little basket. It provokingly turned itself round and sought a new position just when I had made commencement of its portrait.

54 The new room referred to was to be added on the ground floor to accommodate overnight visitors. It was completed later that year. 55 John Langton later invented a candle-making machine as a labour-saving device so that Anne and the servants could manufacture candles in bulk. His inventiveness had also manifested itself earlier, in the manufacture of watch dials from old coins. In Anne Langton’s sketch of the candle-making machine there appears, after all, to be a pulley (see fig. 17). 56 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have sent ... its portrait.’ This sketch was printed in Langton Records.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–26 September 1840 295

From the journal of Anne Langton, 1–26 September 1840 Once more I have folded my large sheet to complete my series of journals. September opens with a busy household day, the details of which are commonplace and uninteresting, so I will devote the space allotted to it to telling you what we have recently been about. There have been two events since the departure of our last letter. The first an expedition to Balsam Lake, the party consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Wallis, Mr. Hamilton and his mother, John and I, and two Mr. Dundases, the one having a brother visiting him at present. We went in canoes, the rapid being practicable only for this craft. One of the objects of the expedition was a visit to Admiral Vansittart and his wife, now resident for the season on Balsam Lake,57 but this was unhappily frustrated by a thunderstorm, which occurred in the middle of the day, and detained us under cover of the woods until it was too late. The time, however, was not unpleasantly spent, the formation of a camp with canoes and blankets on poles, the fire-lighting and pot-boiling, all having novelty to recommend them. After consuming our prog very snugly, notwithstanding the storm, we were favoured with a beautiful afternoon, and enabled to ascend the rapids, and take a peep at the lake, though we could not proceed much further. The day was voted a very pleasant one, and we reached the Falls again about sunset, where John and I remained until the following morning. The second event was our having Mr. and Mrs. Wallis to dinner.58 We had them by themselves – not intentionally, however; the friends that should have met them disappointed us. There is a third circumstance worth recording too. We had, the other night, a very fine arch of the aurora borealis spanning the heavens, from about east and west, but something to the south of both points. It was very bright and very broad, and had all the appearance of being very near, being considerably narrower towards each horizon than in its zenith. [...] Wednesday, September 2. This day having been very like yesterday, I will pass over the present, and give you a little of the future. I do not know whether it was the pleasure of the day at Balsam Lake, or not, that put it into the heads of people to wish

57 Admiral Vansittart had originally been located near Woodstock (John Langton, Early Days, 156n). 58 Recovered material (EP): ‘The second event ... little future.’

296 Journals and Letters, 1840

for something similar again in another quarter, but a little picnic has been resolved upon for the tenth of this month to take place at Sturgeon point, and a couple of boat races are to form the excuse for a meeting. But it is on no account to bear the name of a regatta.59 There will be no company invited, no preparations made, excepting alone the pitching of the marquee, where we shall each take our little basket of provisions.60 I think I wish there were some other locality equally suitable. I feel as if the ghost of poor James Witherup would overshadow us. That fatal day and the opening of the railway company [in England] occupy the same place in my recollection, though certainly poor James and the member for Liverpool were two very different people.61 We must hope the weather will settle before that time. A storm of wind, reminding us of Bootle, now promises us a change, and I fully expect to see a fire on the hearth to-morrow. Thursday, September 3. The event of the day has been the receipt of English letters, your one of July 24, one from Mrs. J. Langton, and one from Rosalie.62 We rejoiced exceedingly at the good accounts of you all, and the prosperity of your nursery. A source of satisfaction in your letter was the ten pounds for Fenelon Falls church, which comes most opportunely for the advancing of the parsonage, to which we feel no hesitation in applying it. The building has caused some unpleasant feelings lately, and harmony seemed to be impaired. Mr. Wallis, as resident, was to have been the acting trustee, but he has given himself too little trouble concerning it, the consequence being that Mr. Fidler has assumed too much the direction of the work-people. Mr. Wallis, too, appears to have been not sufficiently firm and explicit as to what could and what could not be done, and Mr. Fidler has indulged in some whims and extravagances, which have made the expenses run up much faster than they should have done. Now consequently, when the 59 Out of respect for the memory of young James Witherup, who drowned at the regatta of 1839, the participants did not wish this event to take on too celebratory an atmosphere. 60 Recovered material (EP): ‘There will be ... hearth to-morrow.’ 61 Original notation (EP): ‘William Huskisson, M.P. for Liverpool from 1823 to 1830, was fatally injured by an accident on the occasion of the opening of the Manchester and Liverpool Railway, September 15, 1830 and expired in a few hours at the Vicarage, Eccles, to which place he was taken.’ It is likely that the Langtons attended the railway opening, one of the first in Britain. 62 Recovered material (EP) ‘ ... your one ... your nursery.’ Original notation (EP): ‘Rosalie Morel, A.L.’s early friend at Yverdun. The two friends continued to correspond into old age, but never met again.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–26 September 1840 297

funds are exhausted, the house is still extremely incomplete. As it is manifestly in a great measure Mr. Fidler’s fault that the sums subscribed and advanced have been insufficient to finish the building, it is only fair that he should bear the extra expense, especially as he enjoys from the Society and the trustees an income of £180 a year currency, and is as competent as almost any of his parishioners to disburse a little on the occasion. The ten pounds will be a great lift, and the unknown but suspected donor has our gratitude. Sunday, September 6. [...] We have now the pleasure of work-people both inside and outside the house. We have cleaned out a room or two for the plasterers. The painter is at work on our exterior, and we are greatly lamenting that we have not also our carpenter about us. The finishing of a house is an endless job in this country, where work goes on for a few days, and then sowing, or reaping, or logging, or some other farming operation puts a stop to it again for a time. [...] You may generally imagine me in an evening with my [embroidery] frame before me, as I am just now very straight with common making and mending. My needle being thus at liberty has induced me to commence my great undertaking.63 I give it occasionally an hour or two of daylight.64 I have two afternoons more than usual at my command in this week, the harvest having made my scholars so irregular that I dismissed them till it was over, and I think I shall prolong my holiday until after potato raising, when their attendance will be quite as bad. My present children are all sufficiently advanced not to fall back in the interval. I fancy I shall take on a few young ones in the winter, and recommence with A B C. [...] To-day we were all at church; the weather is most beautiful. I often wish in bad or doubtful weather that our church were nearer to us, but on such a morning as this I should regret the pleasant sail there and back. We had some Peterboro ladies at church (visitors of Mrs. Dennistoun’s), who made it look very gay, and exhibited to us some, I should fancy, very extreme fashions. The Major returned with us to dinner.

63 Original notation (EP; reproduced in HHL): ‘The seat and back of a chair.’ Langton’s ‘great undertaking’ was tapestry work for this chair, which was to be a gift for William and Margaret. 64 Recovered material (EP): ‘I give it ... there and back.’

298 Journals and Letters, 1840

Monday, September 7. As the garden formed a prominent topic of the last journal, you will like to hear it named again. There is little doing in it at present. The next operation, I suppose, will be the preparation of it for winter repose. Though it did not promise very well early in the year, it has afforded us an ample supply of some vegetables. We have a few most excellent melons, and one or two water-melons. Tomatos are just ripening, but the curiosity of the garden is a vegetable-marrow plant, which occupies a very large portion of it, and if its shoots had been trained to extend, instead of bending inwardly again, it might pretty nearly have stretched itself over the whole. The fruit upon it is abundant, but early frosts prevent much of it coming to perfection. What does reach perfection is of great size. One specimen, which we have been cutting at for nearly a week, weighed twenty pounds. It is, moreover, a very good kind, and one which will keep some time on into the winter. [...] Tuesday, September 8. This is the last day of the plasterers, and as usual the plot thickens as we advance. A hearthstone here, and a chimney there, requiring a touch of the trowel, have by degrees introduced them into nearly every room in the house. Wednesday, September 9. A busy day. Some cooking preparations for to-morrow, and, moreover, putting the house to rights after a pair of as dirty plasterers as ever mixed mortar. A strong south wind, continuing to blow for the third day, promises but very ill for the weather to-morrow, the day of our picnic. However, a thunderstorm this evening may be perhaps the crisis, and we may yet have a fine day. John and Mr. Dundas have been at Sturgeon point pitching the marquee, and we ladies have been doing our part by the following preparations: two roast fowls, two roast wild ducks, a chicken, a piece of ham, a cranberry tart, two moulds of boiled rice with cranberry jelly, a bun loaf, bread, melons, etc., all most beautifully packed in a tin box. The arrival of your first package at Whitby is announced to us to-day. We have also another piece of agreeable intelligence – postage is at length reduced to us poor colonists by Halifax, the price of a letter will be about elevenpence halfpenny, and we may send one that way for twopence halfpenny. Thursday, September 10. The sun shone very brightly upon us this morning [...] John started early, whilst I waited and was taken in by a boatful of ladies from Cameron’s Lake.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–26 September 1840 299

We went down, twelve of us, in a new six-oared boat of Mr. Wallis’s. He and his wife are away at Toronto. The Fidlers did not come because they are on the move to the parsonage, and the Frasers failed because the lake was too rough for a very small boat. The rest of the lake-dwellers assembled, twenty-eight in number. The day went off well but not exactly as was intended. The races, which, this year, were always secondary concerns, did not come off at all, some of the expected boats having failed to attend, and those attending not affording good matches. So the Alice performed a pas seul for our amusement, and beautifully she acquitted herself. Mr. Dundas’ brother, a sailor by profession, took the helm, Mr. Dundas and John being the crew.65 The Alice sported all her sails and all her flags, and the wind being very high at the time, she appeared to the greatest possible advantage as she shot across the lake before us, exciting general admiration. John only regrets that he was not on shore to see her. When this sport was over another very important occupation commenced, namely that of spreading and consuming our repast. I shall not give you the contents of the other prog baskets, as I did of our own, suffice it to say that there was a plentiful supply of all our backwoods delicacies, which were duly enjoyed. Meanwhile there had been two or three showers, and we thought of finishing with a dance under the marquee, John being equal to a set of quadrilles on the bugle; but the accumulation of thick clouds led Mrs. Hamilton to be anxious to return, so the party began to disperse, and I was housed long before sunset. I thought the day a very pleasant one. I knew every one, saving and excepting the two Peterboro ladies of Mrs. Dennistoun’s party, to whom neither, I believe, did any other lady speak.66 They must have annoyed their hostess considerably. They were self-invited guests, and conducted themselves so strangely that I am sure they will meet with no encouragement to repeat their visit to the Back Lakes, where we are an orderly, respectable set of people. John waited to collect our multifarious property, and reached home somewhat late. However, after comparing notes, and relating the adventures of the day, I have still had time to record them in the pages of my journal. Sunday, September 13. [...] Mr. Need called here on the former day on his road down from the Falls, where he had pulled up some of the ladies, and John accompanied

65 Recovered material (EP): ‘Mr. Dundas’ brother ... to see her.’ 66 Recovered material (EP): ‘I knew ... way of recovery.’

300 Journals and Letters, 1840

him down the lake to attend, first a party given by him [Need] to the gentry at his end, and afterwards to proceed to Peterboro.67 Soon after he had gone we were made to feel very anxious by rather an alarming account of John Menzies, who had been the man in attendance on the marquee on Thursday, and then apparently quite well. Castor-oil, barley-water, sago, gruel, and chicken broth were the doses prescribed by the learned physician at Blythe, and I am happy to say this treatment has proved successful, or rather, I am thankful to say he is in fair way of recovery. [...]68 Mary went over the lake to see her friends, so we were quite without domestics. She has just come home, and the result of her visit appears to be that she gives up going to Ireland until next spring.69 I thought as much, for the opposition made by her father and mother to her return is very strong, and I think very selfish. However, we shall, in consequence, not have a change of servant for another six months, I suppose, which is very well, for though she may not be everything we would wish, we know each other. The former rumours which reflected upon her appear to have died away, and I would hope there was less ground for them than was imagined. Whilst managing the kitchen fire I had a meditation on the perversity of human nature. In England the servants are always crying out for [wood] chips. Here they accumulate in the wood-yard to a most inconvenient extent, and you cannot get the servants to make use of them. They are good solid chips that are made in chopping, and they make a most beautiful fire. Though they do burn away fast, yet a large boxful may be gathered in five minutes from the little mountain of them that rises under the axe. But as long as there is a pile of cut wood they burn it by armfulls, without any help from the beautiful store of chips, which have to be carted away from time to time. Last year we burnt it where it stood, but the fire was scarcely quite extinguished in a month’s time, and required constant watchfulness. Often, if there was a little wind, a bucket of water had to be carried out at night to prevent the embers kindling up again. An unusual incident has occurred this evening, which I must record. An enclosure with notes of invitation has been delivered to us. The Dunsfords ask us for the twentythird, and to stay a few days. Part of the family will accept, and for part of the time.

67 Recovered material (EP): ‘[...] Mr. Need ... way of recovery [...] ’ 68 ‘the learned physician at Blythe’: Langton is likely referring, jocularly, to either her mother or herself. 69 Recovered material (EP) ‘She has just ... was imagined.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–26 September 1840 301

Friday, September 18. I did not like to waste paper upon very uninteresting days, especially as I recollect in my last journal the sheet was full before the month was out, so I wrote nothing in the earlier part of this week.70 My mother was chiefly occupied in tying up her vines, and restoring order after the painter’s operations, though he is quite one of the tidier sort of workmen. I have looked over my wardrobe and fashionised [sic] a dinner-dress – the first time I have wanted one since I wore colours ...71 We had another wedding announced to us yesterday – our neighbour Sally Jordan has given all her old lovers the slip, and is to be united on Monday to a young man who only came out this summer. We shall miss her very much. There is no other person near us who can come and lend us a helping hand on every occasion, so I cannot but lament the circumstance on our own account, and I have a good excuse for not rejoicing, as people say this match is made by her father and not by herself. This will be the second wedding at Fenelon Falls. There is a great assemblage of company at that celebrated place at present. The Wallises have a party in the house, the Fidlers likewise, and the people on Cameron’s Lake have also company. I expect the church will scarcely hold us all on Sunday. [...] I have just been in the kitchen, where I hear that Jordan had a six-months’ old calf worried by wolves last night. I hope they will not fall in love with John’s beautiful little bull, now about three months old. Sunday, September 20. [...] Yesterday we received the magnificent present of two hind-quarters of mutton from Jordan, and to-day came a few apples from Mr. Fidler. Last year we had a present of half a dozen from the same quarter. Things vary in value in different situations. These six were the only ones we saw during the season. [...] This is quite the coldest September of the four we have seen in this land.72 We have had fires pretty constantly, and we have small chance now of anything warm and pleasant for at least six months. However, it may be cold and pleasant. We have been again our own domestics to-day, having spared Mary to go and see her mother, who is unwell. Whilst the wind continues as it is she will not be able to cross the lake, so 70 Recovered material (EP): ‘I did not ... sort of workmen.’ 71 ‘since I wore colours’: presumably Langton here refers to her resumption of wearing garments other than black at the end of the customary period (usually a year) of formal mourning following her father’s death. 72 Recovered material (EP): ‘This is quite ... for a change.’

302 Journals and Letters, 1840

we have good reason to wish for a change. We have an ague patient in the neighbourhood, the first since we came. It is to be doubted whether the rising of the water, owing to the works at Bobcaygeon, will not render our lake less healthy. It spoils its beauty in many parts. The trees dying on the low ground near its margin, the pretty point which terminates our bay is greatly injured, and the landing for part of the year is very bad. Our talked-of dock has not been accomplished this season, and when it will be, it is impossible to guess.73 The work is impossible until about June, when the waters have subsided; but then comes hay time, and harvest, and by the time the last is well over the water is rising again. Monday, September 21. [...] Mary was five hours in getting over the lake to us. She brought a boy with her, whom, at any rate for a time, we shall engage. He is about the right age, and has a pleasant countenance, so perhaps he may suit us, which will be very well, as it is high time we should be provided with a woodchopper ... The day has been a busy one. We have cleared out the drawingroom for the painter, having resolved to finish off this one room. The bookcases and other wood-work are to be light oak, which will have very much the same hue that we have been accustomed to, as pine after two or three winters’ smoke is not very white. We have purchased a quarter of beef today, so there is work cut out for to-morrow. Tuesday, September 22. Another busy day. Besides the disposal of our beef there was tomato ketchup to make, and melons to preserve, by way of making the most of the last fruits of this year’s gardening. We weighed up vegetable marrow from one plant to 207 lbs., besides some that were left and spoiled, and another plant has produced upwards of 100 lbs. weight. John is busy collecting flower seeds.74 Almost every kind will have ripened sufficiently to give us a successor of its bounties for next year. The weather is again very fine, and no longer cold. I hope it may continue favourable for our journey down the lake to-morrow. Friday, September 25. We had a beautiful day on Wednesday, and a pleasant sail down the lake to Mr. Dunsford’s. This was the first time I had been to the house. It is a very 73 Recovered material (EP): ‘Our talked-of ... rising again.’ 74 Recovered material (EP): ‘John is busy ... for to-morrow.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–26 September 1840 303

good one, proportioned in all its dimensions to the size of the family, and the situation of it is about the best on the lake. A slight sketch I have taken, which you will get some day or another, will give you some idea of that end of the lake, which is decidedly superior to ours.75 Our party was to have been more numerous, but they had had disappointments, and it consisted only of our two selves, and three or four of the gentlemen of that end of the lake. However, the family party alone is so large that with only these few additions to it we mustered a very good dance in the evening. The quadrilles were varied by songs, duets on the harp and piano, etc. I am sorry to say on reaching home this afternoon we found my mother an invalid, threatened with a bilious attack.76 However, she is comfortably asleep now, and I hope to find her better in the morning. I have perhaps not been very wise in letting Mary go home again immediately on my return, but they were exceedingly anxious to have her assistance at a ‘Bee,’ and I did not wish to be selfish and deprive them of it. Thursday was a brilliant day, and it was proposed that we should go down to Bobcaygeon of which I was very glad. It is decidedly the most picturesque spot on the lakes, but its wood and water are not easily represented. They should have more skilful treatment than mine. However, I made one or two slight attempts. Mr. Need gave us a little luncheon on the rocks. He has been building himself a house this summer, which has been named by someone or other the Lady-trap, greatly to Mrs. Dunsford’s horror, who cannot see it as a joke, but thinks it quite shocking! The Dunsfords were all very civil and attentive, and seemed very anxious that I should enjoy my visit, which I did, though not grievously lamenting that such days will be few and far between.77 The second evening passed much as the first – a little more music, and a little less dancing – and we departed after breakfast this morning. John had to see Mr. Boyd on our way up, so I walked there with him, thus having an opportunity of seeing a backwoods bachelor’s house.78 We also called on the Frasers. Mr. Fraser secludes his nice little wife far too much. They rarely accept an invitation and if they do, they never keep their engagement. We

75 Langton sketched a panorama of the lower end of the lake and the small islands, taken from behind The Beehive. As with the panorama of Fenelon Falls (see fig. 22), she faintly pencils in local landmarks along the top edge. In the Beehive sketch, one of the Dunsford daughters sits reading on a grassy knoll, shaded by her parasol. 76 Recovered material (EP): ‘I am sorry ... deprive them of it.’ 77 Recovered material (EP): ‘The Dunsfords were ... far between.’ 78 Recovered material (EP): ‘John had to see ... may improve.’

304 Journals and Letters, 1840

ought to consider ourselves flattered by the exception made in our favour on the occasion of the two regattas. [...] Saturday, September 26. I am going to bring my sheet to a conclusion to-day, that my journal may be despatched by to-morrow’s post. I am happy to report that my mother is something better. To-morrow, I hope, we shall be favoured with her company downstairs again. Mary’s absence has made me better acquainted with our new boy, and more able to form an estimate of his capabilities. He seems very willing and obliging, but not half so bright as his predecessor. However, he may improve. [...] Letter from Ellen Langton, dated 24 October 1840 [Editorial note (EP, HHL): In a letter dated October 24 the arrival of the package number two early in the month is announced, but there were still no tidings of package number one.79 The contents of the number two were not damaged, but the paper bags containing sago had burst, and the sago had to be collected from among the other goods. The presents of carpets, hearthrugs, cord and twine are mentioned as specially acceptable. The writer says:] The wood fires make sad work with hearth-rugs, and indeed the burning goes beyond them, notwithstanding our fenders. Mr. Wallis said last winter that he found all his table cloths were full of holes from the wood flying. Our dinner-table has not quite escaped, though I fancy placed more distant from the fire than his had been. The servants here are reckless about wood. They are accustomed in their own shanties to one large room, with a chimney of immense dimensions, which they fill with logs. Our carpenter described his usual fire in winter to consist of the back log, a foot in diameter, and one upon that little less in size, and three others in front, with some split pieces. The quantity of wood we consume is ruinous, and it is often inconvenient to John to spare the men to bring it up. We shall now be very soon making up our winter pile ... The new room is finished, all but putting in the furniture. It will be very useful to us for visitors, and for John sometimes. It will be a relief to Anne and myself not to have to vacate our rooms for our guests.

79 Recovered material (EP): ‘ ... but there were ... other goods.’

Letter from Ellen Langton, 24 October 1840 305

[Editorial note (EP): A letter dated November 15 announces the arrival at last of package number ‘one,’ which had been unaccountably delayed on the way. The contents had not been very successfully packed, and the pots of preserves, which had only paper on the top, had damaged some of the reviews, magazines, and books. Some of the other things, handkerchiefs and stuffs [fabrics] had also come in for a share of the moisture. The amount of rough usage on the voyage and land journey was not realised by the senders. The candles were especially welcome. [...] A new road was in process of making, which would render communication with Bobcaygeon and the lower end of the lake much easier. The writer continues:] We are not quite ready for winter yet. Some of our fences are yet incomplete, and John is putting up a new building – a workshop, a most desirable addition to the premises. Our present joiner’s shop would not do for that purpose, as it would prevent our claiming the benefit of the insurance in case of any accident. Such a building must be, according to regulation, at least 66 ft. from the house and out-buildings. Ours will be about 80 ft. It is immediately behind the house, but unfortunately, from the great rise in the ground, must be conspicuous. It is to be of dimensions that will allow of boats, carts, etc., being manufactured or repaired in it, and will enable men to be profitably occupied in wet weather. Our new room is finished, but we have had so many hindrances lately that it is not yet furnished. I do not know whether we told you that these townships have been recently embodied into a militia regiment, of which Mr. Fraser is Colonel and Mr. Wallis, Major. John is one of the Captains.80 He mustered his Company the other day for the first time, but only to collect their subscriptions towards the re-erection of General Brock’s monument at Queenston.81 A rate according to rank was to be asked, but not required, of all militia men. John’s party came forward very readily – I think they are thirty-six in number. Mr. Hamilton is his lieutenant, and he has some old soldiers for his subordinate officers. Some of John’s commissions [to you] will concern his costume à la militaire, as the officers are expected to have the undress uniform. We shall send our orders early, that the things may come by the first spring ships – otherwise they are thrown too late in the season. 80 Johnson points out that holding public office and/or rank in the militia were routes to prominence and possible preferment. Becoming Prominent, 4, 70, 80. 81 Original notation (EP): ‘Major-General Sir Isaac Brock, a distinguished officer in the British army. His services in the war of 1812 in America were recognised by his country.’

306 Journals and Letters, 1840

Extract from letter from John Langton to William Langton, dated 30 November 1840 82 Your packages, I have no doubt the ladies will have told you, have arrived with no great damage, but I have some doubts whether they have told you anything of what damage has occurred, for my mother seems to think it an offence little short of high treason to find fault with anything you do. Now I am prepared to allow that you may be a good Christian, son, brother, husband, father, and banker to boot, without being quite faultless as a packer; and therefore I will humbly suggest a few rules for your future guidance in that particular. First, packages intended to be shifted about from one conveyance to another, and to be transported in boats especially, should not exceed a hundredweight each, which those two nearly doubled. Smaller packages are more handy to move about, and the contents likewise receive less damage. Secondly, when there are a multitude of things to be put into several boxes they should be classed; thus heavy articles should be kept as much together as possible and not be mixed with fragile ones; articles which, if injured by carriage, are likely to injure other things, should be kept separate likewise, and the light and easily damaged articles should have their separate place. This should be observed not only in the arrangement of the larger packages but also in the smaller ones which compose the larger. Thus the barrel is a heavy affair and should not have formed part of the miscellaneous cargo, both because from its weight it must have grievously crushed the sago etc., when in the many turns and reverses of this world it happened to be uppermost, and likewise because it might have leaked and steeped the said sago prematurely. Thus also the preserves might have gone very well with the flower-pots and bottles, neither could have much damaged the other and in weight they were pretty much on a par. But books and merino gowns should have been kept apart from such dangerous neighbours. Thus also a lamp glass delicately packed in paper shavings should not have been accompanied by two ponderous rouleaus of shillings, which to judge from appearances must, like the bull in the china shop, have had fine times of it on the passage! Thirdly, as to the materials in which

82 Philips does not include this letter in her edition. It gives a clear indication of John Langton’s ‘voice,’ character, and personality. His attributes are clearly evident: integrity, meticulous attention to detail, and a philosophical attitude to life’s vicissitudes that enables him to maintain a balanced perspective in times of conflict; his wry wit, well illustrated here, also contributes to his composure in the face of any challenge. These characteristics will later prove invaluable during his years in public life.

Letter from John Langton, 30 November 1840 307

things are packed, I beg to submit that brown paper, though, when close pressed between two other substances as between the side of a vessel and the copper sheeting, it turns water very well, is not per se waterproof, and that if a jar of preserves with a paper cover is turned upside down, the paper allows the syrup to escape, leaving a residue of black currants which would make, I daresay, an excellent addition to a bun loaf. Moreover, when wet it is a very fragile article through which the currants themselves even can escape. The consequence of this has been that the Reviews will be very hard reading, though sweet, for the leaves are most obstinately glued together with black currant syrup: fortunately, however, the damage among the books is exclusively confined to Reviews and magazines, though a strong smell of mixed syrup and vinegar pervades the whole contents of the box. From the same fragility of brown paper, the sago was evenly and most intimately distributed throughout the whole substance of box no.1, with the exception perhaps of the interior of the barrel. Sir Sam Romilly alone upon inspection was found to contain at least a teacupful of sago83 and, for a fortnight after, I kept finding grains of sago in my pockets and shoes and in everything about the house; some of the flower-pots had parted with their earth and in its place we found sago. Paper will do very well for solid or for light things like tea, but sago is too heavy for it. I must observe however one thing in favour of brown paper which I have so much calumniated, viz. that books, merino and sundry other things wrapped in paper were perfectly uninjured, though rather damp, even when the paper was so completely soaked with syrup that one could not unwrap the parcel without the paper coming to pieces in one’s hands. Preserves should have bladder over the top, or, what I have found more perfect still, should be put in jars narrow enough in the neck to be closed with a cork. I should also recommend that, if it is necessary to put an article like preserves, which damage other things, together with articles susceptible of damage, the preserves might be put in a tin case or a box surrounded with four or five folds of brown paper whereby their leakage, if any, might be kept to themselves. Do not imagine from this dissertation that there has been much injury; little else has suffered except the lamp-glass and the Reviews and preserves, the one by absorption, the other by depletion. As for the sago it is a clean article and its disjecta membra have been collected without much loss. Only

83 Sir Sam Romilly (1757–1818) was an English legal reformer. John Langton is, presumably, referring to one of Romilly’s publications, or to a book about him.

308 Journals and Letters, 1840

one of the bottles (vinegar) was broken. I have dissertated so far principally because more damage may occur again from the same causes. Anne Langton writes84: I have left myself but a few minutes to finish the sheet, but the week will soon be recorded. John made as expeditious a journey to Peterboro as he could, any day might have closed the water communication. He had most miserable weather but was none the worse for it. Since his return we had a visit of a couple of days from Edward Atthill previous to [his] departure. The new workshop raised its lofty head yesterday; it will not be an embellishment to the place but I hope will make up for that in usefulness. I am sorry to say that we have got Mary an invalid again. She is a most melancholy patient and I begin to think will scarcely be able to keep her place this winter. At present Mrs. Woods (Sally Jordan that was) is again our help in need. She lives at her father’s this winter but the future plans of the young couple are not decided. My mother thinks John has been rather too strong on the subject of packing but some of his hints will be useful ones. We certainly never think we have said enough to give you an idea how much pleasure these packages afford, and how much we feel your debtors for the execution of our numerous commissions and for the presents you add to them. The hearth-rugs are quite beautiful and the carpet will make our new room perfect.

84 Philips does not include this extract in her edition.

Recto Running Head 309

Journals and Letters, 1841

Extracts from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 1 January 1841 We have been putting the finishing stroke to our new room, getting all its furniture into it, and setting it out in complete order.1 I assure you we bestow no little admiration upon it. It is spacious, commodious and cheerful-looking. My mother has sometimes contemplated occupying this new room herself.2 It is most conveniently situated for the mistress of the family, and in rather too close contact with the kitchen department for the visitors to the house, but still there are a few reasons that will prevent our making the change at present. We should not like to occupy a different floor from Aunt Alice, as she is occasionally unwell. [...] The house is certainly now a very warm one; our room is a totally different thing to what it was before the house was plastered. [...] On Christmas Eve the mercury of our thermometer had disappeared into the ball, or rather it was on Christmas Day in the morning.3 However, it was bright and calm, and, well cloaked up, I found the drive to church quite pleasant. John, who could not put his fingers within a muff, had to keep thumping first one hand and then the other all the way. Our Christmas Day party is now greatly reduced. The married men, of course, no longer belong to it, and Mr. Dennistoun entertains his own clan, which includes all Camerons Lake. Mr. Need, Mr. Boyd, Mr. Jones, and Mr. M’Laren were our guests. The Wallises are gone away, I believe, for two or three months, and indeed almost all the families are making a trip about this time to the Front. 1 Recovered material (EP): ‘… getting all its furniture ... admiration upon it.’ 2 Recovered material (EP): ‘My mother ... occasionally unwell.’ 3 Recovered material (EP): ‘On Christmas eve ... all the way.’

310 Journals and Letters, 1841

John and I dined with the Wallises a few days before they left.4 Mrs. Hamilton and her son were there also, and Mrs. Hoare came in the evening. We formed two whist tables, one of good players and one of bad. My experience in the game is a little increasing. Mr. Need and Mr. M’Laren are both fond of a rubber, and when either of them dine with us I am generally called upon to take a hand, as my mother declines, and I am complimented on my improvement. On Christmas Day we had a card table, a backgammon table, and a chess table, the first time I have played chess since I came out. There are a few things still to do for the house. The chief one is the manufacture of an icehouse, a most desirable thing in this country, as it is the only chance of having occasionally fresh meat in summer-time. At this season we are well supplied, and we have lately been laying in summer supplies. Besides pork barrels we have now six sides of bacon and thirteen hams decorating our kitchen ceiling. It is an easy transition from the housekeeping to the household, and that most important of all topics here – the domestics. We have at present a young woman who has lived with two or three different families in this neighbourhood, and has the character of being an ‘excellent servant,’ which means, here, one that will do your bidding. [...] Our other servant is a boy of about thirteen, decidedly very clever. He has learnt his house duties very well, and at present always waits at table. He keeps us very well supplied with wood too, and looks very properly after his pigs and poultry. Moreover, he is very civil and obliging in manner, and therefore suits us very well. I hope he may continue to do so. The new workshop at the top of the hill is now finished, and, contrary to our expectation, is no eye-sore, but rather the contrary, as it is a most respectable building, and adds importance to the appearance of the place. The flag-staff now surmounts it instead of decorating the house. The old joiner’s shop we purpose [propose?] converting into a room for John, and making the room above it his bed-room. His old house is getting very crazy and cold, and he will be glad to make the change before next winter. His bachelor visitors will be as easily accommodated there as in his present dwelling. A.L.5

4 Recovered material (EP): ‘John and I ... my improvement.’ 5 H.H. Langton does not include Anne Langton’s sign-off initials. Philips’s inclusion of them suggests that the last few lines of this extract (‘The new workshop ... dwelling’) were taken from a postscript to the letter.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–28 February 1841 311

From the journal of Anne Langton, 1–28 February 1841 Monday, February 1. I see but a poor prospect of anything interesting in the pages of this journal.6 As you will have received letters lately, I will omit the retrospective sketch with which I have generally commenced my journals, but I cannot spare you my accustomed introductory chapter on the weather. The month opened rather sharply, at least so a zero frost is felt after the uncommonly mild weather we have had during almost the whole of January. Yesterday we drove up to church in bright sunshine and no frost, and at night we sat the fire out, so that the mercury made a most rapid descent in the course of the night. I hope it will now remain down a little for, on the whole, it suits everything much better than the soft weather we have lately had. John is to be a traveller to-morrow. He and his lieutenant are going into Eldon to make up their Company. I have not the least doubt that in John’s letter you will have had some particulars of his present military movements. I do not much like the idea of these warlike preparations, whether they end in something or nothing. If I begin to tell you any of the day’s transactions, I shall weary you with repetition, their very counterparts having often been recorded before, all I think but the ruling of account books this evening, for the use of the present year. I was rather weary of adding, subtracting, and multiplying this morning. Being just about to lose three of my eldest scholars, I am trying to drive as much into them as I can. When they are gone I shall take my other big one only once a week, leaving one day for infant schooling. I have one or two who stick fast at their letters, and will be the better for some more particular drilling. Tuesday, February 2.7 Below zero again, and poor fires to come down to, made me feel very cross for about half an hour this morning. I boasted rather too soon in one of my letters of our stock of seasoned firewood, for very shortly after we came to an end of it [...] One feels the change a good deal at first, for the management of a fire is so different with seasoned and unseasoned wood. There is a delightful glow from the embers after the wood is consumed, but if you let the fire get into that state, which after using dry wood one is very apt to do,

6 Recovered material (EP): ‘I see but ... something or nothing.’ 7 Recovered material (EP): ‘Below zero ... this morning.’

312 Journals and Letters, 1841

a wet log or two, probably also caked with frozen snow, will put the embers out before they have time to kindle. You ought to replenish just when the fire is at its hottest, and the habit of doing so is, I fancy, what has caused such ruinous extravagance in the use of our dry wood. We must study a little economy this year, and burn always a portion of green wood, or we shall never get beforehand.8 I think we shall scarcely be able to have our supply drawn in, for one of the horses has lameness, and the oxen are at present chiefly employed in drawing saw logs down to the lake shore, which in the summer will be formed into a raft and be floated to the saw-mill. It seems rather laborious work for the poor beasts. I spent some time this morning in patching a gown. I record the commonplace employment, because I think it characteristic of the country, or at least of hearth fires and bake pans. When you stoop to do anything over the fire, you have probably a couple of bake pans between you and it, with cinders above and below, and, of course, more or less scattered over the hearth, with the perpetual renewing of them to keep your oven at the baking point. The consequence is that, with the utmost caution, there is many a jagged petticoat bottom among the under officers of the kitchen, whilst the more particular superiors have often the needles put into requisition. [...] Wednesday, February 3. Capital fire to come down to this morning, to make up for yesterday and there was some need of it for the wind was high and the thermometer low [...] It reminded me a little of a day recorded in my journal of January 1839. That, however, remains unequalled in our Canadian experience. This day’s post brought us your letter of December 23, and thankful we are for another good account of you all [...] My small school effort here flourishes, whereas Mr. Fidler’s school at Fenelon fell off gradually in numbers, and now is no more. Thursday, February 4. Margaret kindly offers to choose a bonnet for me. I fashionised a little the green velvet one I had in England, which is quite good, and made it look, I think, very nice, but I have only once put it on, for my little fur cap is so much warmer and, my mother saying it is becoming also, I have overcome the reluctance I felt at first to sit at church without the shade of a bonnet.

8 Recovered material (EP): ‘We must study ... in January 1839.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–28 February 1841 313

My summer headgear does not sound well in the description, as my choice lay between a bonnet of my mother’s and one of my aunt’s, the latter taking one of my mother’s in exchange. My mother’s drawn brown-silk bonnet, somewhat altered to suit me, really is very pretty, and Aunt Alice’s large poke leghorn very snug and shady for a boat, and they are both in excellent preservation.9 There is this difference between our dress here and at home, that though a good and handsome thing is as becoming and appropriate at times here as with you, the occasions for wearing them are so very much fewer that they last for ever, and it is quite vain to attempt, without the most wasteful extravagance, to be always just in the fashion. Nothing wears out fast of the visible garments but shoes, stockings, and the printed gowns we wear in a morning, and which I always make in a fashion that allows me to dispense with collars. This enables me to be neat with much less time and trouble. These dresses get pretty hard usage, as recorded in a previous page, but I always consider myself perfectly presentable in them during any of the morning hours, and in summer until tea-time. Mr. Wallis’ marriage has been an acquisition to us indirectly, by setting his married housekeeper at liberty, who was a dressmaker by profession. I am trying her skill at present. I must not expect that she will fit me as well as I have learnt to fit myself, but it is a relief not to have a dress to make in short and busy days. [...] Sunday, February 7. [...] To give you an idea of the brightness of our snow-clad world, I may tell you that last night, although it was so much overcast that I could not distinguish where the moon was, yet did I see without a light that the thermometer was at 27. I have one very interesting circumstance to mention – I put the finishing stitch to the centre-piece of my chair, namely, the coat-of-arms. As my [needle]work sometimes stands still for a week or two and sometimes for a month or two, I think it is pretty well to have advanced thus far in six months.10 And now that all requiring the artist is finished, it is immaterial whether the remainder is completed by myself or by my heirs and executors. I do not know how far you will think that I have been happy in the composition. The only part that meets with much criticism here is the ribbon. I have deviated somewhat from the sketch you gave me, in order to make it

9 ‘Leghorn’: fine plaited straw (OED). 10 Recovered material (EP): ‘As my [needle] work ... my while.’

314 Journals and Letters, 1841

simpler, and cannot well alter it now. I shall wait, at any rate, until I see that the perfection of the remainder of the work makes it worth my while. I did not accompany John to church this morning. He took a large packet of despatches for the post. The Eldon men of his militia Company seem to have excited his admiration. They are all Highlanders and, he says, ‘a magnificent set of fellows.’ We had an excellent apple-tart to-day, made of dried apples, quartered and strung on threads, as we used to see them in Italy. When used, you soak them well first, then boil them in the same water, and crush them in their own juice, sweeten and put into your tart. A bag of these is a most convenient winter store. Monday, February 8.11 I had a short school to-day, as we dined an hour earlier to enable John to walk down to Mr. Boyd’s. He has to see his Colonel to-morrow morning and intends hearing a few more chapters of Mr. Dunsford’s novel this evening. If present plans are executed he is to be back in time to-morrow to take grist to the mill, and bring the letters from the Falls. [...] We are in alarm to-night lest we have lost our pigeon. It is absent from its accustomed haunts. I think I told you we were reduced to one. It has been a great pet all winter, living almost entirely on the staircase window, where it receives its meals. Some day or other when there is nothing else to say, I will give you a chapter on the animals about the place, which are not quite strangers to you. My mother is but very indifferent this evening. Tuesday, February 9. My mother is somewhat better this morning, and Dovey at its accustomed post. [...] Mr. Fidler [...] called here this morning. He engaged John and me to dine with them on Saturday, whereby we shall find ourselves ready for church on Sunday morning. John was back in time this morning, but he has gone down again this evening. His arrival last night just prevented Mr. Boyd from coming here as the bearer of an invitation to him to join a party at Mr. Dunsford’s this evening. Mr. Boyd, it is suspected, will one day be an aspirer to the hand of Miss Caroline Dunsford. Wednesday, February 10. [...] My mother and aunt have been baking gingerbread, whilst I made a slight alteration in my new dress. I am happy to say that the dressmaker has

11 Recovered material (EP): ‘Monday … this evening.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–28 February 1841 315

performed admirably, and I shall have no hesitation in trusting her another time. Mending affords plenty of employment; patching again to-night. Thursday, February 11. I took leave of three scholars to-day. What a snug little party we shall be on Monday! I understand that Mr. Fidler intends to recommence schooling in his own house. He did teach in the church, and I can fancy that having to meet his scholars there, and to have a fire lighted, would make an irregular attendance much more annoying. [...] We have another letter to thank you for to-night.12 Your anecdotes of the children are very interesting to us. I often try to represent them to myself, striving to add the proper number of years to what they numbered when we left; but my picture is a very imperfect one. How does Alice wear her hair? and have her sisters succeeded to her long plaited tails? What do they measure? I mean the girls, not the tails. Friday, February 12. We had a great biscuit-making to-day, and the very unusual interruption of a party of callers, Mr. and Mrs. Dunsford, with their eldest son and daughter, about the first time that Mr. Dunsford had been out of doors this winter, and a very cold day they selected for their drive.13 They came along the new road, which, for want of more travelling upon it, is indifferent, but it promises to be a good one in time. It is curious that, seldom as we see this family, a visit either to or from them should happen to figure in most of my journals. Mr. Dunsford says his novel is the most delightful amusement to him.14 He is very ready to talk about it, so that the fact of there being one in progress is spoken of, I hear, at a great distance from Sturgeon lake. A party of callers being quite an event to us, I felt as though I had got an incident for my journal. But the details of such a visit are just as dry and commonplace as when it is a circumstance of everyday occurrence, and I am afraid it will not have made the 12th of February a bit more interesting to you than any other day of the month. To-morrow night, instead of writing my journal, I shall be making myself agreeable to Mr. and Mrs. Fidler.

12 Recovered material (EP): ‘We have another letter ... tails.’ 13 Recovered material (EP): ‘A party of callers ... not experienced.’ 14 Original notation (HHL): ‘The novel eventually appeared in the Peterborough newspaper and was entitled The King’s Messengers. Mr. Dunsford owned the Peterborough Examiner.’

316 Journals and Letters, 1841

Monday, February 15. I have the transactions of three days to record to-night. Saturday was an exceedingly cold day. We had much more ice in the house than any other day this winter. It made me feel very idle respecting our visit, and certainly a colder drive I think I have not experienced. Mr. Dundas, his brother, and Mr. M’Laren were the only other guests, and the evening was a quiet and pleasant one. The parsonage felt warm and comfortable. They patronise stoves altogether, and the method of warming the upper rooms is by carrying the stove-pipes from below through them, having one or two turnings in them to increase the effect. This plan must answer very well, for the previous cold night was the first on which any ice had been seen in a room so warmed. The upper story of the parsonage is not nicely planned, having been divided into too many small apartments, but below the rooms are good. Mr. Fidler, moreover, intends to lay out a little more upon it, and has planned sundry improvements for next summer.15 We drove home after church yesterday. [...] Mr. Dundas’ brother is starting for home this week. John takes him to Peterboro, and we think of entrusting our little box to him. We shall be glad to hear if it reaches you in safety. We had planned going over to Camerons Lake to call on Mrs. Dennistoun on Saturday, but the severe cold deterred us. It is now pretty nearly a year since I paid my first visit to that lady, and I am somewhat ashamed to think that I have never repeated it. We have often talked of it and indeed have set out to do so, but were prevented. [...] John is very busy manufacturing a [watch] dial for Mr Fidler out of the slates you sent out.16 Mr. Fidler complains that now one [member of the congregation] and then another takes him to task, sometimes for beginning the service too soon, and sometimes too late. Each one would have its own watch regulate the parish. Tuesday, February 16. We have the enjoyment of warm weather to-day, the thermometer having risen to twenty, at which degree I suppose you are perished at home.17 Snow, however, accompanies the change, of which we have more than enough already. We have not had so much snow any winter as this one. I daresay here in the woods we shall have sleighing till the lakes open. [...]

15 Recovered material (EP): ‘Mr. Fidler, moreover ... you sent out.’ 16 H.H. Langton uses this sentence as the last one in this entry. I follow Philips’s version here as the subsequent sentences flow more naturally from it. 17 Recovered material (EP): ‘We have ... the lakes open.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–28 February 1841 317

A large party of young men have assembled at John’s cottage to-night to start together for Peterboro in the morning, but they have declined joining us at tea, being, I suppose, in travelling costume. I daresay that John’s expedition will warm him a little on the subject of the coming election, the universal topic, I understand, everywhere, but here we are mighty indifferent. [...] One of the candidates bears a most despicable character, and yet, though admitted by all to be everything that is bad, little short of, if not actually a murderer, many suppose that he will get in. I hope, for the honour of the Province, not; but, unfortunately, a vast number of the small farmers are in his debt, and he threatens to sue them unless they give him their votes, and influence their relatives to do the same. Wednesday, February 17. [...] We have had an exceedingly dirty job this afternoon. We lighted the stove in our spare room in order to thaw the snow out of the pipe, but it would not draw at all, and after sundry experiments with the damper, we were obliged to take the fire out, the pipe down, disjoint it, and, what was far more difficult, put it together again and in its place. However, our perseverance was rewarded, for we discovered and remedied the evil. Our boy, Timothy, is a clever little lad, with twice the head that most of them have. Thursday, February 18. I have been disappointed today. I had intended having only a small school for a time, and promised myself great improvement in some of my little dull ones, when they would have more exclusive attention bestowed upon them. But I have a message of application already from the successors to Daniel’s farm, who have a family of children, and I suppose next week I shall receive all those who are above six years old and know their letters. Friday, February 19. There will have been another disappointment today, I am afraid, not to us, but to a poor man and woman who have heard in Ops reports of my mother’s medical skill, and had come to consult her. The woman, for a disease of two years’ standing, got a few rhubarb pills; and the man, for a complaint in his leg, a bit of flannel. They brought likewise the case of a third person before us, for whom they got nothing, for we dare not prescribe. [...] Mrs. Russell asks leave to go and see her children again, and gives a most exceedingly broad hint that she wants something good to take with her, so she is to go to-morrow, and have a cake for them.

318 Journals and Letters, 1841

Saturday, February 20. [...] A dire calamity to-day (don’t be frightened).18 We have lost our pigeon. Really it is gone at last. After living a solitary life with us all winter, we were to have got it a mate next week. No use lamenting, as you observe touching Dickey’s death. I may as well make this the bird and beast chapter that I promised you. There have been a few changes in this portion of the establishment. To begin with the first-born, ‘Rock,’ broke his leg this last summer, and hurt the same twice again, when it was just getting well, which has established him as a limper for the rest of his days. Still, he can run after the sleigh pretty well, and enjoys an excursion as much as ever. ‘Mowbray’ is no more. It had been predicted to him, I fancy, that he should die on a hunting expedition, for a day or two before John was going to hunt, for the first time since he came out, ‘Mowbray’ disappeared from about the place. It was found that he had gone of his own accord to Mr. Boyd’s, where he never would remain an hour if he was wished to do so. However, he could not avoid his destiny. Mr. Boyd lent him to a person who was going to hunt in Ops, and whilst there he found an entrance into a storehouse, and before his depredations were discovered he had demolished a great portion of a barrel of pork. Either from indigestion or thirst, he went into convulsions, so bad, that it was deemed best to shoot him. ‘Nettle,’ ‘Juno,’ and the cats are quite well, but ‘Nettle’ has had one or two narrow escapes, and therefore is a greater pet than ever.19 Our ducks did not do well this winter. We lost them both. They bear cold very ill. The other birds are well and fat, and we have had a few eggs from time to time all winter. ‘Robin,’ the horse, is pronounced well again, but he has had a long confinement, and I am afraid will not have earned his oats this winter. Sunday, February 21. A thaw day and a bright sun brought torrents of water down where the new and old roofs join. John thinks it will be difficult to make it secure, but Taylor expects that he can manage it, though he has not succeeded yet. It must be thoroughly clear of ice and snow, however, before anything can be done.20 The sun now has great power in the middle of the day, and in due time the roof will be clear, though it should continue to freeze. A good lump of ice, however, has great power of resistance too. I have seen a piece

18 Recovered material (EP): ‘A dire calamity ... pet than ever.’ 19 Nettle and Juno were two of the family’s dogs. 20 Recovered material (EP): ‘It must be ... on the other.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–28 February 1841 319

of wood lie on the fire upwards of half-an-hour, and actually consuming on one side, whilst it remained encrusted with ice on the other. Hard frost is very inconvenient in one’s larder. You cannot lay by a little broth or gravy without its becoming as hard as a stone, sometimes breaking the vessel that contains it, and not available on short notice. Just now we are specially inconvenienced, for we cannot get into our larder by any means. I do not say that this is exactly from the frost, but it is owing to variations in the atmosphere, acting upon imperfectly seasoned wood, now shrinking it, now swelling it, and destroying the perpendicularity of the door-posts, so that the doors not unfrequently will refuse to shut or open. In the present case, I suppose we shall have to use force at last. Monday, February 22. [...] I am to have two new scholars on Thursday, a boy of Powell’s, our new neighbour, and one of Jordan’s, the latter I daresay fourteen or fifteen years old. My mother is going to superintend the sewing department. Aunt Alice thinks that I have been very negligent to give so little attention to this important branch of education; but really, without undervaluing it, I have found since I had so many scholars that I had no time to fix [sewing] work. Two days a week is not sufficient for everything, and I consider that the mothers will teach a little sewing because they derive immediate advantage from it, but with book learning it is otherwise. [...] Wednesday, February 24. Eight little pigs have come into the world this morning, to our sorrow, remembering the annoyance of a winter litter last winter.21 However, this is later, and nearer to a warm season. Taylor came up this evening for the remainder of the cash due him, which he declined receiving at Christmas. His arrival was opportune for the opening of the larder door. It seems that it is the frost heaving up the ground that occasions many difficulties of this kind. Taylor has just been establishing a Sunday School at Bobcaygeon. He had been accustomed to teach in one at home, and, being a bit of a musician too, he can teach the children to sing hymns. Mr. Need also gives his assistance. Thursday, February 25.22 I took a walk down to see the little pigs this morning. I hope [the litter] may thrive better than that of last winter. I am afraid there will be a second 21 Recovered material (EP): ‘Thursday ... season.’ 22 Recovered material (EP): ‘I took ... Kingston [ ... ]’

320 Journals and Letters, 1841

litter shortly. Aunt Alice’s pet pig is still a member of the establishment. I have had my two new scholars to-day. The stranger is a fine intelligentlooking lad of eight years old. Sunday, February 28. Friday was marked only by the arrival of seven more little pigs and yesterday, by John’s return in the evening, accompanied by Mr. Dundas. They fell in with a little gaiety at Peterboro. They had two balls and a picnic, that is an assemblage of almost all the sleighs in the place, filled with ladies, and a drive of six or eight miles out of town altogether. There were some agreeable strangers in the place also, so that a week was more pleasantly spent at Peterboro than usual. The ladies appear to have made John exceedingly useful, and in return they have made much of him. How will he settle down to our humdrum life? John had business on the road to Port Hope, which induced him to proceed to that place, and visit a nursery-garden, where he ordered a few shrubs and flower-seeds against spring. [...] One especially nice woman he has made acquaintance with, unfortunately a married one, or I think his fate might have been decided. As it is, I do not know that it will be influenced by the expedition. He had an opportunity, however, of assisting a damsel in distress, so he might get up a little romance out of the adventure. The Wallises, I believe, are on their way home again. I am afraid her home will appear doubly dull to her after playing the bride so long at Kingston [...] Mr. and Mrs. Fidler called yesterday, and Mr. Fidler took away with him a very neat dial that John had manufactured. Speaking of time, my little watch has performed very well since it came out again. Before that I wore the one you sent John (a most excellent one), when I was the great authority in the country, and my character for accuracy became quite established. The old timepiece, against all expectations, goes very well, and it is of great consequence to my mother. Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 9 March 1841 I am promised three or four scholars this week, one of my present children having made that announcement to me, but I have received no formal application, and I suspect that that ceremony is not thought at all requisite. Another family of children will be fixed near us in the course of the summer, and we shall presently have a pretty population within three miles of us. There is just now the incident of a wedding. A brother of John’s man, William Ellis, had a young girl recommended to him the other day. He went down to see her, approved, proposed, and returned an engaged man.

Letter from Anne Langton, 8 April 1841 321

Last week he became a married man. There is expedition for you! He is a good steady workman, and if his choice is as good as prompt, there will be another pair of respectable neighbours for us. Our stock of firewood is being drawn in by oxen, and a comfortablelooking pile of it is already in view of the kitchen window. Just now John has got a dial mania, and is manufacturing a miniature one to go upon a magnetic needle, the face of which will be silver, if a piece of money can be beaten out and carved light enough to turn. We selected one from the old coin collection, which I had not seen for many a day. [...] Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 8 April 1841 I have still only to report the continuance of winter, such a one has not occurred since the settlers came on Sturgeon lake.23 A few days ago we were in hopes that the snow was disappearing, and a few patches of earth were visible, but all again is covered with a considerable fall of snow during the night [...]. The people are in great fear about their cattle, the fodder beginning to fall short. Many, we are told, have died from starvation, and many more will be lost. As yet all John’s stock is in, being but, I fear, somewhat poor, which our small supply of milk indicates. Unfortunately, three lambs have made their appearance within the last day or two, all too soon, I fear, to be reared. We have been more fortunate with our poultry than any one of our neighbours. At the Falls weasels have been most destructive. We have seen none here except one, a beautiful white one, which I hope has left no progeny. This winter we have fed our poultry on grain. It may be rather expensive keep, but we had eggs during the winter, and now abundance of them. The election for the county has taken place, but the candidate for whom all our young men voted did not succeed in obtaining his election. John had to walk seventy or eighty miles to give his vote, sleeping where he could, and returned half famished and very much fatigued. After a day of rest he was no worse, and soon, began sugar-making, which is cold work this weather. From the journal of Anne Langton, 1–29 May 1841 Saturday, May 1.24 I am reserving my retrospective glance at recent events, which forms my usual preface, until to-morrow. The weather, too, that interesting topic, will 23 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have still ... to be reared.’ 24 Recovered material (EP): ‘Saturday ... kitchen garden.’

322 Journals and Letters, 1841

then be discussed [...]. All hands have been busy to-day completing some netting, which is to guard some of our flower borders from the dogs and cats, who are very much failing in respect to these rival pets. Painted green, I think this little fence will not be unornamental. We have not sown any seeds yet, but made preparation for them. John has been working most of the week at the kitchen garden. Sunday, May 2. [...] We accomplished our long-talked-of visit to Mr. Dennistoun on April 12, Easter Monday, ice travelling being beautiful, and, indeed, the sleighing was still pretty good on much of the road, though the mud-holes were deepening and widening. John, who has had an annual upset hitherto, thought to escape this season, but he was mistaken. In rising out of one of these same mud-holes, we went over; hovering for a few seconds over the black place, we just cleared it in time to have a more comfortable tumble. The day after, we drove down the lake to call on the Frasers and Dunsfords. The ice was beautiful – the cutter almost went of itself. At this time there was small prospect of the lake opening soon. It was generally expected that May would be far advanced before we should have water communication. However, the last week of April, part of which was very hot, and part very windy, removed the ice from our prospect ... When the snow at last disappeared there was no frost on the ground, and in consequence of that, I suppose, and its being able to absorb moisture, the succeeding sloppy state of things has been of short continuance.25 We can walk about our garden now with perfect comfort, and but for the cold winds of the last few days would have got our seeds in. To-day has been very blustery, with snow and hail. Last Sunday we were sitting without fire, and mosquito bitten. It has been a terrible season for the cattle. Many in the country have died – none of John’s, I am happy to say, but after having, some weeks ago, churned about three pounds of butter a week, we could for a time scarcely allow ourselves milk for our tea [...] Monday, May 3. Our spring cleaning commenced to-day, so a remarkably agreeable week must not be anticipated.26 I do not intend, as in late journals, to avoid domestic details. It does not answer. If I omit all that does not tell well, I

25 Recovered material (EP): ‘When the snow ... mosquito bitten.’ 26 Recovered material (EP): ‘Our spring cleaning ... say to her..’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–29 May 1841 323

feel it a sort of injustice to relate what does tell well, and my pages become very meagre, excepting on those days when the imagination is a little bright. We have summoned our late servant, Mrs. Russell, to assist in the busy week, or maybe longer, for we shall both do it thoroughly and take it quietly. Neither my mother nor my aunt are quite in trim for exertion. Our present servant does very well, considering that she has never been in service before, and that it is not worth while [sic] to teach her very thoroughly, as she only remains until July, when she intends, I believe, to join some brothers in the States. Mary [Scarry] was over the other day, looking extremely delicate. I begin to be afraid that she has trifled with her husband too long, and that now she had made up her mind to go home, he will have nothing to say to her. We had a numerous school this afternoon – ten. I have had a very poor attendance for some weeks, often only two dreadfully stupid ones, and one little one. This sudden increase has called for my mother’s assistance in the sewing department, and also Aunt Alice’s in hearing A B C, but I think I shall now be able to form something like a class. This can only be if they are pretty regular in their attendance, however. There are too many beginners now, with whom regularity is of importance, for me to indulge in a summer holiday, as last year. Some of my pupils, I doubt not, receive good religious instruction at home, but I fear others do not. [...] Wednesday, May 5.27 I wrote no journal yesterday, for we had a visitor in the evening – Alexander Dennistoun – who came to enquire when John was going down to Peterboro, and also to beg some flower-seeds. Afterwards we had to read our dispatches by the post [...] We have had a beautiful day, at last, and contrived to get a few seeds into the ground, though the indoors bustle was just at its height. All the kitchen end of the house has been turned inside out. I expect this will have been quite our worst day. A little plastering has been done too, and I am happy to say that it is now raining on our work [in the garden]. Thursday, May 6. It has been raining and snowing alternately all day, and blowing continuously. Such weather would have done ill for us yesterday, when half our possessions were turned out of doors. We have been all very busy to-day, but I have

27 Recovered material (EP): ‘Wednesday ... mother of a family.’

324 Journals and Letters, 1841

nothing particular to record. I am reminded, however, of a circumstance connected with a former cleaning which made me smile. The dining-room was to be scoured, and we, as usual, had been making most of the preparations for it, such as taking up the carpet, removing furniture, etc.. We had left table and chairs that we might take our dinner there before the operation. Whilst seated at this meal, Mary (Scarry) waiting upon us, I saw her eyes wandering over the room, and at length she broke forth, ‘Miss Langton, you have not brushed down the walls.’ It would be rather strange if a servant with you were to make such an accusation against one of the ladies at the dinner-table. Perhaps this might be as much an observation as an accusation; however, she has taken me to task on other occasions. Our present servant has more of the spirit and capacity that Mary had than any other we have had, and I cannot help feeling sorry that she is the mother of a family. [...] Monday, May 10. [...] Our housecleaning operations are interrupted. Our servant has had a letter requiring her presence about her own place. Mrs. Russell, our late servant, has been summoned to our assistance during her absence, and meanwhile, we have transferred our labours to John’s house. My mother and I were very busy there all this morning, dismantling it, that the walls may be washed with scalding lye, a most desirable thing occasionally in sunbaked log-houses, to keep them clear of insects. We have had the first nice spring rain to-day, which makes us look forward to a better supply of milk and butter. Of my ten scholars, half were absent this afternoon. Tuesday, May 11.28 Again I was a great part of the morning at John’s, replacing things, and left it a very comfortable-looking house. [...] We have almost a Bootle wind to-day. I think the lake has done rising, and I am looking forward to getting to church on Sunday. Not but that the landing is worse when the waters are falling than before, but the main obstacle at this time is the very strong current in the river. When it is at the worst, I do not suppose that John would take charge of me on any account. He once upset himself, and had a hard scramble out. [...] Thursday, May 13. Last night, just as we were preparing to retire, we were startled by a rap at the parlour door. It was John’s man, announcing his return, accompanied by

28 Recovered material (EP): ‘Tuesday ... scramble out.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–29 May 1841 325

five or six other gentlemen, and some bread and meat were wanted. We despatched the requisite, and a pile of blankets to meet so large a demand on a cold night. The gentlemen departed again before our breakfast hour. After John had told us the Peterboro news, he unpacked a collection of shrubs and plants that he had ordered in the winter when at Port Hope, and very busy we were getting them all into the ground, disregarding wind and rain.29 If they do well, and they look promising, we shall be very much beautified. Though not much of a gardener myself by nature, I am quite an advocate for fostering and indulging the taste where it does exist. The constant care and attention that our vegetable friends require make them a sort of children to us, and very much tend to endear home. Interior decorations have little effect of this sort. I do not believe that the most elegant and tasty furniture ever really adds an attraction to the fireside. I can scarcely fancy that it is but just a month since our drive down the lake, when we were still completely covered with snow, and had ice in perfection. Spring seems now quite advanced, and though we have had very little warm weather, we have led our summer life for some time. Our gardens are dug up and sown, the hot-beds are flourishing, and we spending as much time out of doors as the house duties will allow. John was very busy whilst in Peterboro, taking measures to promote a public meeting on the subject of opening the navigation of these lakes and rivers. It is to be hoped that private animosity will be suspended on the 29th of this month, when unanimity will be essential to the furtherance of the cause in hand. It is thought that the Governor-General is not favourable to us.30 Friday, May 14. Cleaning was resumed to-day, Margaret [our servant] having got back, so we were very busy, but contrived nevertheless to rake a border.31 My mother is better than she was at the commencement of our bustle, so it has done her no harm, and Aunt Alice submits to take less part in it than she used to do. She does more with her needle than my mother and I do. We have had a soap-boiling, amongst other things, but I do not take the same interest in it that I do in candle-making. I wish you could just take a view of another operation going forward at present, the clearing away of the accumulation of chips in the woodyard. If that were not done occasionally,

29 Recovered material (EP): ‘After John ... will allow.’ 30 Lord Sydenham, governor general from 1839 to 1841. 31 Recovered material (EP): ‘Cleaning was ... and I do.’

326 Journals and Letters, 1841

we should soon have our house standing at the foot, instead of on the top, of a hill [...] Sunday, May 16. [...] [Yesterday] we rubbed, white-washed, plastered and gardened, and finally unpacked a cargo of goods from Peterboro. It was high time our stores should be replenished. [...] John recommends me to order a sidesaddle and habit, that he may mount me on Robin’s back when the state of our navigation is not favourable. It certainly might be convenient at times; for instance, I should have gone to church to-day, which I did not. The lake looked black and rough, and our shipping is not yet in perfect order. John was wishing to-day that he could be split into two or three, there are so many things to attend to just at this season, things that cannot be committed to other hands. You must know there are a great many more hands than heads in this country, perhaps in every country. [...] Tuesday, May 18. [...] The wind must be winding itself up towards a crisis, I think, but no symptom of the wished-for rain.32 Perhaps these storms are a great deal better for us, blowing away ague, which we have rather dreaded since the risen waters. John walked down to Bobcaygeon to-day, to concoct with Mr. Need resolutions for the meeting of the 29th. Not that this duty devolved upon them, but they thought it quite necessary that something of the sort should be prepared in case the committee appointed had never been able to agree. I daresay he will contrive to combine a visit to the Beehive with this important business. The readings of the novel are concluded, and I rather think music and flirtation will be quite as agreeable.33 I have been invited to come when a fair copy is written out, and peruse it, which I hope to be able to do.34 The gentlemen were all gone before breakfast this morning, and we were at liberty to recommence upon the old occupation. You must be surprised at the duration of our house-cleaning. We have certainly had a good spell of it, though with sundry interruptions. Another year we must try to get the business done before gardening time. We have had a present of a weeping32 Recovered material (EP): ‘The wind must ... risen waters.’ 33 John Langton’s visits to the Beehive were increasing in frequency, presumably because of the growng attraction between him and Lydia Dunsford. 34 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have been ... pull to pieces.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–29 May 1841 327

willow this evening from Mr. Fidler, so we are coming a little nearer to what old Blythe was. Wednesday, May 19. My mother has been ‘fad-fadding,’ as she says, all the day. My own occupations were various, but all connected with the business in hand, excepting a visit to the woods to get up a few flowers. There are two or three very pretty ones, and valuable in a garden, because they flower early, when there is little else to be seen. There is not a leaf expanded as yet in the woods, but it has felt much more like spring to-day. Still the sky is cloudless. John says he never saw the ground dryer, [even] in August. As the plough goes, the dust flies behind it like smoke – sad weather for plants and little chickens. Aunt Alice has had great mortality in her nursery, notwithstanding various resuscitations by means of pepper, whiskey, and hot blankets. We have now a pair of pigeons, but not our old friends of the staircase window. The particulars of our pet pigeon’s end I do not like to think about – it was a tragedy. We have dismissed our assistant to-day, though there is still one more apartment to pull to pieces. Thursday, May 20. John was at home this morning before we were down to breakfast. He brought with him some wild vines and other additions to our beauties and a few minutes afterwards, came Taylor, the carpenter, with a bundle of young cedar trees, so planting again became the order of the morning. [...]35 He has a fence to the new part of the garden to make, and to-morrow a neatly raked border will be strewn with chips and shavings. [...] [John] is at this moment making up packets of flower-seeds for the Dunsfords. He has got a reinforcement in Mr. Dunsford to the University Club.36 If they increase in numbers there may be some satisfaction in such a society, but at present it consists only of five or six. I had an application to-day to take another scholar, but I find it quite impossible to increase my numbers. I shall however make room for the applicant soon by dismissing one who has had the benefit of more than two years’ teaching, and, I am sorry to say, to but little purpose. I begin to wish

35 Recovered material (EP): ‘ ... and a few minutes ... and shavings ... ’ 36 Original notation (EP; reproduced in HHL): ‘A club of young men who had graduated at one of the two Universities, Oxford or Cambridge, soon abandoned.’ John Langton had noted that the presence of such educated men on Sturgeon Lake was an influential factor in his decision to settle in the area (Early Days, 12, 22).

328 Journals and Letters, 1841

we had, or could have, something more regular in the way of a school. The number of children is increasing, and my cares are much more likely to increase than to decrease. Aunt Alice teaches a little every evening; our boy, Timothy, is her pupil – not a remarkably bright one, I am afraid. Friday, May 21.37 This has been a regular gardening day. My mother made an expedition into the woods in quest of flowers, and succeeded in tiring herself so completely that she never was able to sit down the remainder of the day, but was on her feet from breakfast till dark, not at all an uncommon experience!! It is beginning to be very warm, and a tinge of green has spread itself over the woods this last day or two. I rather dread the discovery of dead trees in the neighbourhood of the lake that a state of full foliage will make. Saturday, May 22. To-day has been quite the counterpart of yesterday – raking, digging, and sowing, etc., went on most actively. We have been tantalised with a prospect of rain these last two days, but it does not come yet. You must think that our grounds are really much more extensive than they really are to afford us so much occupation. A narrow flower-border runs along the front of the house, and at the end we have rather a wider one, with shrubs at the back. This is all. The grass plat and gravel walk, however, have to come in for a share of our attention. The mosquitos keep off delightfully, but we cannot expect much longer respite. I have been sitting pen in hand for some time, though I have written so few lines to-night. The fact is, I have been assisting at the planning of the garden-house all the time.38 As one never does two things at once well, I will take leave of you for to-night, especially as I have a great inclination to do a third thing – sleep [...] Sunday, May 23. [...] We performed our journey to and from Fenelon Falls by canoe. There have been several changes since I have been at church. The churchyard is fenced round, it takes in all the hill, the road changed, and the church fitted up with pews. This was decided upon by a majority at the Easter meeting. John formed the minority. Whether the advantages or disadvantages will be more remains to be seen. The pews are left without doors, to 37 Recovered material (EP): ‘Friday ... per canoe.’ 38 ‘garden-house’: a gazebo, perhaps. There is no further allusion to this project, however, in the letters and journals.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–29 May 1841 329

obviate exclusiveness, but as some of them are paid for by individuals, there will be some appropriation of them, and this in so small a place is undesirable. [...] I am sorry to say that Aunt Alice is very far from well to-day.39 She has a bad pain in her side, and is feverish likewise. Monday, May 24. As I write the date it occurs to me that four years have elapsed since we left England, and all the dear ones it contains. How much is brought to my mind by the recollection. But I will not look back. This was a bustling day. Poor Aunt Alice was quiet enough in her bed, but the rest of the house was in great confusion. As circumstances before obliged us to postpone taking our room to pieces, so now they required that it should be done at the present time, convenient or not convenient. I had to take advantage of Taylor’s presence to have my wardrobe taken down for repairs, so presently all my possessions were scattered about. Our boy had obtained permission to go for a day to Ops, so some of his duties were on our hands. Add to this that it was school day, and suffocatingly hot. My scholars left as a thunderstorm was coming on, with a notion that they would get home before it began to rain. I hear they had a sad journey – trees falling about them, etc.. [...] Since it abated I have just peeped at the devastation in the flowerborders, and I find that there will be good exercise for one’s patience tomorrow. I am happy to say that Aunt Alice is somewhat better to-night. Tuesday, May 25. This was another very busy day, so busy that we were never able to go into the garden, much as we knew it called for our attention to repair the damages of yesterday’s storm. I am afraid our flower-seeds will have been all mingled together in one mess. Streams of soil are carried down in every direction and the gravel ploughed up in channels. We have had abundance of rain again this evening, and now we are quite satisfied. Aunt Alice continues better, but far from convalescence. It is not easy to give you details of the business of to-day. A note-book at one’s girdle to record each occupation would alone give you a notion of our industry. John has been busy transplanting out of his hot-beds, now that there is a chance of vegetation progressing. A beautiful fresh green has spread itself over everything; the air is quite cool again – nay, even approaching to cold to-night, and there will doubtless be votes in favour of a fire to-morrow.

39 Recovered material (EP) ‘I am sorry ... four younger ones.’

330 Journals and Letters, 1841

I have been this evening commencing, under Taylor’s inspection, the needlework of some venetian blinds, and as the lazy pendulum in the fable calculated how many times it would have to beat in the course of a year, so I began reckoning that there would be 204 small pieces to measure and stitch with the greatest exactness. Taylor departs again to-morrow morning. Wednesday, May 26. The first thing that greeted us this morning was your letter of April 17. The five little heads were contemplated with great interest, not once, but again and again, and will be, I daresay, again and again to-morrow. They help me to form a more distinct image of the four younger ones. We had a letter from a firm in Montreal, announcing the arrival of a barrel of biscuits, which, in consequence of its not being accompanied by an invoice, could not be forwarded. John doubts whether any invoice sent out after the knowledge of this omission is made known to you would be in time to prevent its being disposed of by auction, as the duty upon it cannot be determined; however, it might be as well to attempt to save it. We returned to something like our usual mode of life to-day.40 Sundry odd duties occupied me until dinner, after which I rigged up a mosquito blind, and then gardened till sunset. It is perhaps well that the flies will soon put a stop to this, for my mother does more than her strength is at all equal to. She is too anxious that everything should be in a state of perfection, and the smooth lawns and trim borders of old England haunt her recollection. Aunt Alice is only so-so. [...] Thursday, May 27. The avocations of the morning, as I do not carry the note-book I talked of, cannot be detailed. Since school I have been getting more blinds and curtains ready in preparation for the enemy [mosquitoes], and my mother succeeded in bringing her front border into order. John paddled up to the Falls this afternoon, and after tea set out for a moonlight walk down to Mr. Boyd’s, from whence he joins a party in Mr. Dunsford’s boat to proceed tomorrow to Peterboro. Of course most of the gentlemen on these lakes attend the meeting. I trust it will have a prosperous issue. Lord Sydenham, I understand, does not patronise water communication, expecting railways to supersede everything; and of course our particular claim to be the line of road only rests in our beautiful string of lakes and rivers. [...]

40 Recovered material (EP): ‘We returned ... into order.’

Letter from Anne Langton, 15 June 1841 331

Saturday, May 29. [...] To-day I intend taking all the hams and the bacon down, and inspecting their condition. This is an operation that must be very frequently performed. There is a little beetle in this country that I had rather get rid of than even mosquitoes or black flies. It infests all our provisions. We intend putting up a smoke-house soon, which is the best way of keeping hung meat – about once a fortnight smothering the little creatures. Tomorrow, I shall probably read, ramble over the garden and give Timothy a long lesson to make up for his week’s holiday.41 I shall send you a small sketch of our addition and improvements. Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, 15 June 1841 42 [...] The meeting concerning the opening of navigation at Peterboro went off very well, somewhat against expectation, and some good result appears to be hoped for, at least by the sanguine. John was accompanied on his return by a Mr. Forbes, who is making acquaintance with the backwoods. He remained here a few days, and was entertained in backwoods fashion by being set to work. John and he got the boats painted, which are now again at their anchorage, enlivening the bay. [...] 43 [Editorial note (EP, HHL): In a letter dated 30 July 1841, Anne Langton mentions her final decision to use a small legacy in the purchase of some land upon which to put up a small building for a schoolhouse, the requisite number of children being there to qualify them for the Government grant of ten pounds per annum. The number of children in the immediate neighbourhood made it important to provide some regular instruction. Two applications had been already received for the post of master, and the neighbours volunteered to give their services for the [raising of the] building. [...]] From the journal of Anne Langton, 1–27 August 1841 Sunday, August 1.44 Being Sunday, and a beautiful morning, not very hot, we all embarked in the Fairy for church. Our congregation looked small, both Wallises and 41 Recovered material (EP): ‘Tomorrow I shall ... week’s holiday.’ 42 H.H. Langton has this extract as being from a letter of 21 June 1841; Philips dates it 15 June 1841. 43 ‘enlivening’ the bay: Langton here uses the Gilpinesque term as though the boats had been judiciously placed to add picturesque effect to the scene. 44 Recovered material (EP): ‘Sunday ... exceedingly good.’

332 Journals and Letters, 1841

Hamiltons being away. When we reached the landing on our return we were met by Mr. George Dunsford, who had come up intending to go to church with us, but, arriving about ten minutes too late, had the pleasure of spending the morning by himself. After dinner a sail in the Alice was proposed, and the weather being very inviting, I made one of the party. Before leaving the anchorage John had rather a ludicrous adventure. He had swung himself upon a rope, in order to reach over to the other boat for something, when part of his support gave way, and he came plump into the water. In a second or two he had scrambled up the side of the boat, but, being thoroughly drenched, he swam on shore, and, after the necessary change of apparel, came off to us in a canoe. He said that, in the very instant of falling his hand went to his watch pocket, but fortunately it was empty. After this little detention we had a very pleasant sail. Blythe looks prettier from some of the points we viewed it from than it does from the one I am most accustomed to, namely, the road from Fenelon Falls. When more distant, you see better the various heights of the ground, and when the white house just appears above the belt of trees, the effect is exceedingly good. Monday, August 2. [...] John’s harvest would have begun to-day, I suppose, but William Ellis had a ‘Bee.’ This will, I fancy, be the last of the ‘Bees’ until I call for one to build a schoolhouse. John’s man, William Ellis, is going to live at his own place, and in his room will be one Henry Brandon, who has also a wife and child.45 We have our new little man to-day and shall have a new maiden to-morrow.46 [...] Tuesday, August 3. Superintending my new boy, and preparing for my new girl have been the most engrossing occupations of the day. [...] And now I am not going to name the domestics again for a week! Mrs. Menzies came with her six chil-

45 William Ellis was living on the east half of Lot 17, Concession 1, Verulam. In 1844, he formally purchased that land from John Langton (Junkin Families, 411–12). 46 Original notation (EP): ‘In this letter, is mentioned the dismissal of the servant boy – Timothy, who, though clever and useful, had become more and more idle and independent.’ This was not an unusual occurrence as young men came to an awareness of their value in a developing economy. In her notation to the letter dated 30 July, Philips ends thus: ‘Another boy had been engaged in place of “Timothy,” and a second woman-servant was necessary, to save the exertions of the old ladies.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–27 August 1841 333

dren to take leave this afternoon – as fine a family as I ever saw. John Menzies had called by himself a day or two before, having expressed great fears that he should cry. He just held out during the short interview, but was overtaken by a regular break-down at John’s house. I felt strongly inclined to weep a little too, when I kissed his eldest little girl, who had been quite one of my favourite scholars. The children looked all quite happy, with their new clothes, their cake, their little presents, and the world before them, and were no doubt full of bright anticipation. I believe John Menzies is bound for Kingston, as the focus of everything, but without any distinct plan of what he is to do. The cause of his leaving here is that he could not make his farming answer. In fact, his wife has been little of a help to him, and I fear that elsewhere he will find his difficulties as great. As his family grow up, I hope these will lessen, but I am afraid that they may be yet worse off before they are better. This family has been so long connected with Blythe and its master that we feel much interested about them. [...] Wednesday, August 4. Our breakfast table was spread over with letters and papers this morning, yours of July 1 was most welcome.47 Among the others was one from Mr. Johnson of New York, informing me of his wife’s death which took place a few months since. It sent my thoughts back to that portion of my life when the Independence was my home. Mr. Johnson’s letter brought his wife strongly before me as a singular, but interesting person. The newspapers have been very engrossing this evening. John set out after dinner. He had a great disappointment in finding a mistake in the shaping of his sail. He has generally been a very successful sail-maker, and this is an unaccountable and very provoking blunder. My mother and I spent all the afternoon in the garden, transplanting lettuces, tying up vines, etc. Thursday, August 5.48 Your birthday, my dear Margaret, descending to the same step upon which I lighted six few weeks ago. With your children springing up fast about you, growing old must seem appropriate. As the only daughter of the house I should find youth still very convenient, if it would but stay with me. At times I am much inclined to forget its departure. Aunt Alice is wonderfully young. We had a walk together to-day, and she tripped away most lightly. 47 Recovered material (EP): ‘Our breakfast-table ... after dinner.’ 48 Recovered material (EP): ‘Thursday ... while he stays.’

334 Journals and Letters, 1841

She had been longing for a walk, and fortunately a little business turned up for us at Allen’s. Meanwhile, my mother busied herself in the garden just as long as she could. We had a miserable school to-day, only two. I suppose it was on account of harvest-time, but I gave no holiday, thinking that so many of the children were too little to be of much use in the field. Taylor came up for a week, to-day, to proceed with some of this work, for we have not quite done with him yet. I have been working diligently at my venetian blinds, that we may hang another while he stays. [...] Saturday, August 7. [...] There have been many departures from Peterboro; among the rest, Mr. Kirkpatrick who is moving to Kingston, and we hear that Mr. Wallis is to occupy his house at Peterboro this winter. Whether this means a final departure from the Falls we do not know. [...] Monday, August 9. [...] To-day not being very fine, my school was more numerous – seven attended. We had a party from across the lake this evening to consult us respecting a cut finger. A poor little lad of about five years of age had been handling an axe, and had almost severed the finger at the joint. Two days ago we were asked for sticking-plaster for a cut three inches long. This sort of accident is pretty frequent, and our store of court-plaster is dwindling very much. A further supply on the next opportunity will be very acceptable. Tuesday, August 10. I am afraid bad weather is setting in for harvest.49 It has been very wet to-day. John got a little wheat in last week, but the main part of his crop is only just ripe. It makes one feel a little anxious, not only for pecuniary considerations, but for the possibility of having to bake with unsound flour all the year round. However, it is quite too soon to croak. Venetian blind-making, sailmaking, and stay-making have been my occupations this wet day, and my mother has been shoe-making, or rather covering a favourite pair of shoes the second time. I am not quite so economical, and shall have to increase my usual allowance of shoes, for they wear out very fast in summer. We are always on our feet, and our ways are rough. [...]

49 Recovered material (EP): ‘I am afraid ... to croak.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–27 August 1841 335

Wednesday, August 11. [...] Servants here are, on the whole, not badly paid, but there is no scale of remuneration according to merit. You give a girl less than a woman but when they consider themselves women they must have four dollars a month. More than this you could not give them without exciting the wrath of all the housekeepers in the neighbourhood for raising wages.50 I believe it is the same as regards men, unless they have a trade. Knowledge and experience as farmers does not acquire for them additional recompense for their labour. The whole concatenation of circumstances that makes servants what they are in this country seems so natural to its present state that I am inclined to make the best of them, and expect nothing more. If there were skill to be had at a greater cost, there are so few that could afford to employ it that the supply would not be kept up. Girls never expect to remain long in service, and seldom do so long enough to gain much experience. They are too uncertain to be worth much teaching, at least it seems quite customary to leave them untaught. John visited in Port Hope last winter, where the dinner and wines were of the best, and the horses and sleighs of the handsomest, yet the lady of the house always laid the table herself. My mother said to one of our servants, ‘I shall iron that best tablecloth myself; I always do.’ ‘Indeed, ma’am,’ said the girl, ‘I think every lady irons her own best table linen.’ I am not more disposed to wonder at the deficiencies of our domestics than I am greatly to commend the honesty of the backwoods, where there are so few temptations, and fewer opportunities for dishonesty. [...] Saturday, August 14. The three last days have been beautiful for the harvest, and they have been leading in wheat all to-day. John thinks his crops are pretty fair. The wheat is good, but somewhat scanty. The dry season created great fears among the farmers. There was one most astonishing crop this year, that of dandelions. You can scarcely conceive how thick they came up. The whole ground in parts was one mass of them, and it was quite melancholy to see the seed blowing about over the newly-ploughed ground; you might take it up by handfuls. [...]

50 Errington – whose book covers the period 1790–1840 – cites $3.00–4.00 per month as the usual wage for female domestic workers but states that women’s wages were lower than men’s (Wives and Mothers, 113, 129). She also notes that, ‘whether mistress or maid, the farmer’s wife and the girl were both working women. They shared a workplace and they shared the work’ (129), an observation consistent with Anne Langton’s reports.

336 Journals and Letters, 1841

Sunday, August 15. It is four years today since we landed at this place. There have been many changes and one grievous one since that time, but when I dwell upon any former period sufficiently long to bring it vividly before me with all its trials and anxieties, I generally find some cause for thankfulness, and so it is now. We have had a beautiful day [...] After dinner, as John and I were in the garden, I had a better view of a humming-bird than at any time before.51 Tuesday, August 17. [...] To-day has been very hot again, and we have had a hot employment – ironing our muslin things. I was much amused to-day with watching ‘Rock’ and the cat. Puss had kittened this morning, and ‘Rock’ takes the greatest interest in her young family. I found them by themselves in John’s house, he sitting beside her, watching, and licking the kittens, and turning them over with his nose with the greatest delight and fondness, while she seemed highly pleased with his attentions. [...] Friday, August 20. I have been busy with my accounts, and neglected my journal for two days. Keeping accounts is a somewhat perplexing affair in this country of no cash. John, for instance, must keep an account open with almost half the population. He never goes to Peterboro without three or four neighbours coming with their little commissions, some bringing the money, and some not, some part of it, and so forth. Yesterday John and I went over Camerons Lake to pay a visit to the Dennistouns, and fetch Margaret Hamilton. We had a beautiful day, and a pleasant breeze, and the Fairy performed admirably with her new sail. [...] We got home to tea, just before dark. You will not easily guess what had been my mother’s occupation during our absence – manufacturing a pair of trousers for her new boy out of an old bed-tick. Nowhere but in this country would a lad have been sent out to service with such a scanty supply of rags. I am afraid that this second Timothy is too much of a child for us, requiring too much looking after. John has had a loss of four little pigs, carried away two successive nights by some wild beast, most probably a bear. The bears are very fond of pork. He intends to sit up and watch to-night. Jordan had a three-months’ old calf eaten by the wolves within his own clearing the other night.

51 Recovered material (EP): ‘After dinner ... muslin things.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–27 August 1841 337

Saturday, August 21. John kept watch all night, but saw nothing of the beast. However, two more pigs are missing, and these went in the daytime, and, moreover, were not very little ones. [...] Maggie and I took a walk this afternoon to the harvestfield.52 We found John cradling oats in one of my fields, he having taken John Menzies’ crops in payment of debts due to him. We talked over the situation of the proposed school building. If we put it in the township of Fenelon, as desired, there will be required some chopping and burning before anything could be done, and as people are always pressed for time in this country, that may be a consideration. My mother is finishing the trousers to-night, and I am stitching away at my corsets.53 Hers has been a wearying piece of work, I am sure, and mine will be a tedious one. We had another application for sticking-plaster to-day, and two for medicine. Sunday, August 22.54 My mother was not quite well enough to go to church this morning; the rest of the party went. Aunt Alice walks as actively up the church hill as I do. I have no doubt that she feels the exertion more, but I believe for a short distance, she would yet outwalk most ladies. Mr. Wallis is come up for a few days to his old home, which I fancy he regrets. Mr. M’Laren volunteered to come down and hunt the bear to-morrow. Whilst we were at church a very respectably dressed man came here and sent in a sixpence to my mother, asking if she would give him some refreshment for himself and his companion, and very unwillingly took the sixpence back, when she gave him some bread and cheese and a jug of milk. The companion proved to be Admiral Vansittart’s brother-in-law, quite a young lad. Monday, August 23. Mr. M’Laren came up, but his zeal on our behalf or our defence was vented upon a few innocent pigeons and partridges, upon which we shall luxuriate for a few days.

52 Recovered material (EP): ‘Maggie and I ... due to him.’ ‘one of my fields’: Anne Langton was given two fields on John’s property as her own. She named this parcel of land ‘Farfield’ for her birthplace in Yorkshire. 53 Recovered material (EP): ‘My mother is finishing ... tedious one.’ 54 Recovered material (EP): ‘Sunday ... as pork [ ... ].’

338 Journals and Letters, 1841

Tuesday, August 24. I am afraid that we shall luxuriate upon mutton, for John thinks one of his sheep has received a mortal wound [...]. The pigs are now housed away at night, and I hope the bear will forget that there is such a thing as pork. [...] We have had applications for medicine again both yesterday and to-day, and our medicines are quickly disappearing. I am sorry to say that there is ague on the other side of the lake. We have yet seen nothing of it here. Our boy took it last spring, but it was after going for a day or two into Ops, which is a dreadfully unhealthy township. Wednesday, August 25. To-day the sheep that John decided to kill had to be cut up, an occupation which I need not dilate upon. Thursday, August 26. I daresay that Alice and Ellen would like to know how I go on with my young visitor [Maggie Hamilton]. She has so much liberty at home that it is quite a trouble to her to find amusement here, and it often puzzles me how to keep her employed without occupying too much of my own time. She does not care much for reading. I have been teaching her how to make little pincushions, which she has found very interesting. She is an affectionate little girl, though I do believe she kisses me many times in a day just for want of something better to do. I was looking very grave this morning, and she whispered to Uncle John, ‘I can make her smile whenever I like.’ ‘How is that?’ asked Uncle John. ‘Oh, by calling her Aunt Anne.’ She is very fond of ‘Uncle John,’ and he of her, and he plays games with her in an evening, and sometimes they have a romp together. She has no playmates at home, as all her brothers and sisters are a great deal older than herself. Friday, August 27. We have a change of weather to-day, but we had warning of it from yesterday morning. An east wind is here our most infallible sign of rain in summer and of snow in winter. John employed the wet day in completing a catalogue of the books, preparatory to the increase they are to have when the packages arrive. We muster amongst us about 1200 volumes [...] [T]omorrow night ... I may be entertaining visitors instead of writing a journal, so this day ends the month. [Editorial note (EP): The letters of September and October were entirely concerned with accounts of our grandmother, who was taken alarmingly ill early in September, with pain and sickness. The treatment resorted to seems

The New Room and Improvements 339

to us these days very severe and dangerous, especially the large amount of calomel given, causing the mouth and throat to be in a most painful state, and rendering either swallowing or speaking almost impossible. It also brought on a painful eruption down the spine. Her mind remained remarkably clear throughout the illness, which continued, with occasional slight improvements, followed by relapses, until early November. She made a wonderful recovery, but her strength and general powers were much enfeebled. In one of the letters an acknowledgment is sent of the arrival of the marble bust of our grandfather, which now belongs to our cousin, Hugh Hornby Langton.] [Editorial note (EP, HHL): The new School Act came into force for Verulam in November. The condition of the grant was the regular attendance of fifteen children, and the adoption of what was called the Irish system. Three trustees had to be appointed by the parents.] The New Room and Improvements55 Extracts from a letter You will observe that the new room imitates the verandah, has a window opening to the ground in the centre of intercolumns, and a door on to the verandah corresponding with the house door going into the porch.56 The wash-house and new workshop are slightly indicated behind the garden wall, which is boarded, and very neat. Under it runs the border with shrubs. The grass plot goes quite up to the verandahs, but between the gravel walk and the house runs a narrow flower border. We have vines planted at every column, which will soon be mingled with roses. The trellis-work for two honeysuckles on either side of the new room window is marked to assist the description, and vines are training round the parlour and porch windows in front [...] and, further still, you may observe the garden rails and gate, leading to John’s house.

55 Recovered material (EP): ‘The New Room ... to John’s house.’ This excerpt appears to be from a letter written by Anne Langton. 56 This is one of the few occasions when Anne Langton gives a detailed verbal description of the subject of one of her extant visual sketches. Fortunately, in this instance, the sketch also survives. The two can be ‘read’ together, thus giving her audience a guided ‘tour’ of the exterior of the house and grounds. The pen and ink sketch is now so faint, however, that the wash-house and workshop – only ‘slightly indicated’ in the original – can no longer be discerned by the naked eye.

Recto Running Head 340

Journals and Letters, 1842

From a letter dated January 9, 1842.1 The English mails are not in yet; travelling must be very slow just now from the perpetual heavy snows we have. Every one is looking anxiously for the January thaw to disencumber the ground of some of its burden. Scarcely any chopping will be done this year in the country; to get out as much firewood as is necessary is just what each house can accomplish ... John had another fit of ague about a fortnight since, and was very invalidish for about ten days, but it departed just in time to allow him to partake of the amusements at Christmas, and enjoy them. He seems all the better, too, for his gaiety. The bridal party was up at Mr. Dunsford’s, and he went down and stayed three days, and afterwards as many on Cameron’s Lake, coming home to do the honours here to the little party we entertained for the bride.2 She herself was the only lady, though we asked one of the Miss Dunsfords to accompany her ... Mr. and Mrs. Fraser dined with us on Christmas Day, and Mrs. Hamilton and her daughter Margaret are come to spend two or three days with us, so that we shall have made for ourselves more variety than usual. John, I am afraid, will have to be a great deal away again this month. He is obliged to be in Peterboro on the 15th, again on the 23rd, and again early in February, so that it scarcely allows him to come home at all between these several days.

1 Recovered material (EP): ‘The English mails ... several days.’ 2 As there are no records from the end of August 1841 until this letter, we do not know the identity of the bridal couple mentioned here.

Letter from Anne Langton, 3 February 1842 341

[Editorial note (EP, HHL): dated January 10, 1842, mention is made of John Langton having been appointed district councillor for Fenelon, under a new arrangement of Lord Sydenham’s, whereby the interior business of each district was to be conducted within its own boundaries. Mention is also made in the letter of January 9 that Mr. Need was returning to England, having inherited the fortune of an aunt. His departure was much regretted, as from his education and general information he was a most agreeable companion. The arrival in the colony is also noticed of Mr. Wickham, who afterwards became the husband of the eldest Miss Dunsford.] Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 3 February 1842 Our weather continues most variable, a slight covering of snow, with a little frost for a day or two, and then a thaw, which nearly clears the ground, and renders the roads almost impassable.3 It is very bad for drawing up cordwood from where the land will be wanted for cultivation. Cord-wood is so called to distinguish it from logs or trees drawn in, often to be cut up at the door. A ‘cord’ is a pile of pieces cut and split, four feet long, and the pile itself must be eight feet long and four feet high. These are cut again according to the length of the fireplaces, and often further split. [...] We have had Mr. Boyd with us for nearly a week, to keep quiet and nurse a cut foot. Since John left us he has come up to dine with us sometimes. He is a favourite of mine; he is not brilliant or animated, but has much goodness and kindness, and simplicity of character, and is an example to all our young men for industry, attention to business, and study of economy. He is about five- or six-and-twenty, and came out the year after John did. [...] The Fidlers have been with their friends at the Front. Poor Mrs. Fidler will have made sad complaints of the dulness [sic] of the backwoods; the situation is not in repute at present, and it is said that only English ladies can make themselves comfortable in such solitude. The Wallises are at Kingston now, and we had a call from Mr. Wallis a little time ago, when he came to look at his deserted place. He gave us an account of the splendours of the seat of government, the sledges and horses’ trappings all new, to impress the mind of the newly-appointed governor, who, Mr. Wallis reports, is a finelooking man, carrying his years with dignity.4 His ministers, on the contrary, seem to be a set of the shabbiest looking creatures, but many may have good heads for all that. 3 Recovered material (EP): ‘Our weather ... for cultivation.’ 4 The new governor is Sir Charles Bagot.

342 Journals and Letters, 1842

Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 3 March 1842 We have latterly had more snow than during the previous part of winter, accompanied by high winds, so that the drifts are, or rather were, very deep.5 For the last five days it has been thawing most furiously. I have often looked at the piles of snow other winters, and wondered how they were to disappear without inundating us, but the warm suns of February and March generally produced so much gradual evaporation that we experienced little inconvenience in the spring, never less than last year, when the snow was most abundant, but the ground in consequence had little frost in it, and imbibed the moisture very quickly. This year it is just the reverse, for our zero days found the ground quite bare, so that now the water streams over the surface down the side of the hill, threatening to flood us. Timothy is busy making channels for it, and I am just going out to superintend him ... John set out this morning for Peterboro to bring up some packages, which he was not able to do when he returned from Kingston, being brought up by Mr. Dunsford’s sledge. The horse with which he left for Kingston was left at Peterboro, having become lame, but is now right again. John does not go alone, as one of the Dunsfords is going down with him, which is very satisfactory to me, for these lakes make me nervous. Yesterday John attended the funeral of Henry Dunsford, who has been a great invalid both before and since arriving in this country. He was interred in their own grounds – a spot which Mr. Dunsford had selected soon after coming out for themselves and their family. Mr. Dunsford read the service. He had been watching his [son’s] decline and suffering for many weeks, and had composure to commit his body to the earth, in sure and certain hope of a blessed resurrection. Mr. Need, Mr. Boyd, Mr. Fraser, and John were all who attended; they were all known to him since his arrival ... John left Kingston with a cold, and was very ill with fever during the journey, on which, from the state of the roads, he spent three days and three nights in reaching Peterboro. He took only one cup of tea during that time, and by total abstinence he thinks cured himself; but he became very thin. [Editorial note (EP): My aunt mentions the great amount of illness at that time – ague, fever, and other results of the sudden changes in the weather – and the unusual late cold.]

5 Recovered material (EP): ‘We have latterly ... makes me nervous.’

Letter from Ellen Langton, 22 April 1842 343

[Editorial note: (EP, HHL): The colony was at that time in an unsettled state with regard to Education. The Act which had been passed by the Government had not given satisfaction, and the School Commissioners of the Fenelon district had come to no decision as to what course to pursue. Anne Langton was in doubt whether, in case there was no school established, she should resume her old labours, try to establish a small school herself, or leave the young people to run wild for a time.] Extract from a letter from Ellen Langton, dated 22 April 1842 6 Our lake is now open. John went in his canoe to church on Sunday; Anne did not accompany him, as the current in the river is very strong on the first breaking up of the ice. For the last few days it has been quite summer weather, all fires have disappeared, double windows removed, and the garden the most engrossing occupation with Anne and John. I can give no further assistance than advice where to plant or sow in my flower garden. The kitchen garden looks very nice from my window, all of John’s doing except a little digging now and then from our boy. A little more planting has been done to-day about the house, which will be an improvement. Last year we put in nothing but what Anne and I selected in the woods, and got bitten by the black flies in doing it. Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 16 May 1842 We are just now enjoying the Canadian luxury of being without servant – Margaret left us a week ago; the article servant is scarce at present. Our neighbours are suffering in the same way. We are not quite so badly off when thus situated, for John’s man’s wife is at hand to apply to on emergencies.7 She comes up every evening to wash up, and on Saturday afternoon gives the kitchen a scrubbing. Our boy is rather much of a child, but perhaps all the better for that in the present state of the household, as he is not too proud yet to do a little woman’s work when required, so that I hope we shall do pretty well until our enquiries are successful. No efforts of mine can keep my mother from making greater exertions than I can approve of. John is at Peterboro at present, attending the second meeting of the District Council. We partly expect him home this evening, but not certainly,

6 Recovered, material (E): ‘Extract from a letter from Ellen … in doing it.’ 7 Presumably, Angel, wife of Henry Brandon.

344 Journals and Letters, 1842

for the Council sat much longer last time. I mentioned in a former letter that the gentlemen of our district had declined to act as magistrates. The reason and motive of this action of theirs was to testify their disapprobation of the new appointments, make Government sensible of its blunder, and so lead to a speedy readjustment of things. The newly appointed magistrates were men of almost the lowest degree, some unable to sign their own names correctly, and utterly incompetent to perform the duties of their office. When John went recently to Ops about the robbery of the contents of our boxes, he had himself to draw out the warrant for the magistrate to sign, and to dictate in every particular what steps were to be taken, having in the first place lost time in seeking for another magistrate, because the one at hand, sensible of his own incompetency, had expressed reluctance to act. A district councillor is not more exalted.8 John and Mr. Need are the only members of their Council who rank as gentlemen, but they muster some shrewd, sensible men amongst them, and I hear no complaints of their companionship. [Editorial note (EP): It was at this date that the ‘family group’ was drawn which forms the frontispiece for The Story of Our Family. The artist thinks it may serve as a ‘lesson card’ to teach the babes to point to grandmother, Aunt Currer, Aunt Anne, and Uncle John, not forgetting the equally important members of the family, ‘Nettle,’ ‘Rock,’ and the pussy-cat.9]

Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 29 June 1842 Our young men have decided to hold a ploughing-match this year with their horses and men. A field belonging to John is fixed upon for this trial of skill, and as the gentlemen will assemble, we ask the ladies for the evening. After the labours of the day the men, and those in our immediate neighbourhood with their wives, are to have an entertainment in the barn,

8 Recovered material (EP): ‘A district ... companionship.’ 9 In this sketch, a cat and dog are close to the fire between Anne Langton and Alice Currer. Two other pets – a cat lying along John’s leg and a dog lying on the floor beside him – are barely distinguishable now as the sketch, executed in graphite (with some ink and a light wash), has faded over time. The sketch shows the tasteful interior that the Langtons have created for themselves over the previous five years. They are comfortably and cosily engaged in evening activities around the fire. This is their oasis, where they refresh themselves after long, strenuous days.

Letter from Anne Langton, 29 June 1842 345

where music will be provided, and plenty of bun loaves, good rice-puddings, ginger-bread, and tea and coffee.10 I wish I could say no whiskey, but that cannot be omitted, as no temperance society is yet formed in this remote, uncultivated district.11 Our party mean to look in at them, and John will open the dance. It is the first agricultural meeting in this district. I am prepared with some beautiful pink ribbon to mark the winner. The gentlemen connected with the match will have the tent fixed on the hill for a cold dinner – and we shall entertain the ladies [at the house]. Our flower borders will not be in full beauty when our visitors come, as all is so late this year, and the seeds slow of growth, but the roses and vines will soon be beautiful.12 The house is now nearly covered to the top with the latter. [...] After Margaret left us we had the pleasure of remaining nearly five weeks without a servant at all – little Timothy excepted. [...] Servants are very scarce just now. The people are becoming more independent of us, whilst we do not become more independent of them. None of the Peterboro servants will come so far back, so that beyond what the neighbouring townships offer, there is small chance. How scarce girls are in these townships you may imagine when, among about fifty that we reckoned up of the neighbours to attend our entertainment next week, there will be only one unmarried girl, namely, our late servant, Sarah, about seventeen. However, we have at length succeeded in hearing of two servants, both new arrivals in the country, one the daughter of an Irish weaver, six-and-twenty, who has never been in service before. She is large and clumsy, very plain, and, I am afraid, rather stupid, but, as far as I can see, willing, so we must hope to make something of her. The other I know nothing of but that she is English, which sounds most promising in my mother’s ears. Considering that we have the milk of eight cows to manage, and shall wash at home, I do not think the increase in our establishment too much. We do require more cleanliness and comfort in our internal arrangements than is customary in this country. 10 Langton makes a clear social (i.e., class) distinction between ‘men,’ and their ‘wives,’ on one hand, and ‘gentlemen’ with their ‘ladies’ on the other. 11 Temperance movements were growing in significance at this time in the U.S. and Canada in attempts to curb outbreaks of disorderly and/or drunken behaviour that often characterized frontier settlements. Father Theobald Matthew (1790–1856) was a leading temperance campaigner. See Fitzpatrick, Oceans of Consolation, 273; Craig, Upper Canada, 208–9. Reference to Father Matthew’s temperance cause is also found in a letter written by Richard Birley in which he assures his sponsoring uncles that he has signed the pledge of abstinence. Letter from Richard Birley to Joseph and Hugh Hornby Birley, 9 April 1845 (currently on loan to the present editor). 12 Recovered material (EP): ‘Our flower borders ... the latter.’

346 Journals and Letters, 1842

[Editorial note (EP, HHL): As regards the school question, an Act had been passed by the Government in 1816 to establish and assist common schools in Upper Canada, and Commissioners appointed to enquire into the educational needs of the various districts. The Commissioners had decided against a school in Fenelon and Verulam, but as the inhabitants desired that their district should be made into a school district, they would have to pay a tax whether they had a school or not. A donation from the family at Blythe, who were anxious to have a school, and whose donation depended upon the establishment of one, turned the scale, and a school was started. The school had at first to be held in a barn temporarily, the small building used before in connection with the church not being available. [...]] Extracts from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 23 July 1842 This sketch shows the scene of the ploughing-match, held on July 7.13 Right in the centre of the piece you see the roof of the barn in which the entertainment was held in the evening. A little to the left stands a beautiful marquee, surmounted by the British flag, and near it a group of ladies and gentlemen assembled to witness the spectacle. The dotted lines mark the land that was ploughed, and scattered up and down it you may perceive the four teams that contended for the prize. The one nearest this way, and now approaching the brow of the hill over which the barn is seen, is the one that will win the day. Beyond are seen the beautiful waters of Sturgeon lake, and the woods and hills that surround it, and in the left corner you may observe another British flag floating over the residence of the Langton family. The whole thing went off very well, and occasioned less hurry and bustle than many a minor affair. We began in good time, and were baking every day for nearly a fortnight before, so that on the day itself, though we had to receive many of the gentlemen at breakfast and dinner, I felt perfectly at liberty to attend our lady guests when they began to arrive about three o’clock.14 Our party numbered twenty-six, and when after tea we joined those assembled in the barn, I believe we were altogether about a hundred.

13 This sketch has not been located. 14 The amount of work involved in such an undertaking was obviously extensive, even with help, although Anne Langton was comfortable baking. In her memoirs, commenting on the family’s declining fortunes in the 1820s and early 1830s, she notes that she might support herself by her confectionery-making skills: ‘I had already set down confectionery as one of the arts by which I might gain my bread if need be’ (Story, 87).

Letter from Anne Langton, 23 July 1842 347

The ball was opened by a country dance, in which the gentry joined, and such of the people as were not too shy.15 These came out more in the jigs that succeeded, after which we gave them a quadrille, and then retired. We attempted no more dancing at the house, being scarce of young ladies, but had a very pretty supper, and when the ladies retired for the night some of the young men went down and had another fling in the barn, where the fun was kept up till after daylight. I am proud to say there was not a drunken man, except one of the musicians, who, although a temperance character, wet his lips too frequently with beer. An abundant supply of coffee and tea, and the milk of all the cows, preserved us from the disgrace which I had rather apprehended. Some of the young men departed early, and we sat down only two-andtwenty to breakfast. Nine of the party we accommodated with beds in the house, the remainder rolled themselves in blankets, in the old backwoods style.16 The entertainment in the barn being of far more importance than that here, I will tell you of what it consisted, in addition to the ‘Ram,’ an animal that was celebrated in the township, having in his day knocked down pretty nearly every man, woman, and child in it. There were twelve very large, cold rice-puddings, with abundance of currants in them; the same number of bun loaves, with eight or nine dozen of both ginger-bread cakes and of currant cakes, and plenty of bread and butter. In the meat line there was lamb and poultry, the garden and dairy furnishing a variety of accompaniments. We have estimated the expenses of this treat, and judge them to have amounted to £7:10s., which I think it was well worth, from the great satisfaction it appears to have given in the neighbourhood. Perhaps that sum might not quite cover the wine and other extras here, but then we must have company sometimes [...] Among the new arrivals [in the district] is a medical man in Ops, who was summoned on occasion of a poor man’s illness, and spent the evening with us. He appears a decent sort of person, and being within a few hours’ call, may be a great acquisition in the neighbourhood, if he remains. The question is, whether he will be able to live upon our ailments. Our summer at last fairly set in about a fortnight ago, and some tremendously hot weather.17 The garden has taken a great start, and we begin to

15 Although Anne Langton has always been conscious of the family’s relatively superior social position in the New World context, this is the only time that she actually ‘names’ them and their peers as ‘gentry.’ 16 Original notation (H.H. Langton): ‘Note by John Langton – “Not one of us ever went to bed at all.” ’ The ‘us’ were the young bachelor gentlemen. 17 Recovered material (EP): ‘Our summer ... its purpose.’

348 Journals and Letters, 1842

look very gay; but the change is all too late to afford us our usual supply of vegetables. We have still ice in the ice-house, but it dwindles very fast. Our ice-house has only been lately made, and I hear that they never do answer well the first year. Ours, too, is not perfectly tight and complete yet, and we are going to add a chimney to open in cool weather, and let out the damp air. This, I hear, is considered a great advantage, so on the whole I think it promises to answer its purpose. [...] John has to be very busy at present, for his man Henry is ill, and almost every day there is a ‘Bee’ which takes every other hand away. These ‘Bees’ are getting a perfect nuisance, the period between seed-time and harvest is almost filled up with them. Some of the gentlemen talk of forming a logging association, cutting ‘Bees’ generally altogether, and helping each other with men and cattle for two or three days at a time. I do not know whether they will find this less inconvenient, but something of the kind is requisite where people have much land to log up, for it requires numbers to get on well and profitably. I am sorry to tell you that we have another great bustle in prospect, nothing less than the taking down of both chimneys. We have been threatened with this necessity for some time, owing to their sinking [...]. Still, we kept hoping there would be an end of it, but it was finally determined that the thing was inevitable, and must be done next year. As my mother has a great objection to packing up and leaving the house whilst the operation is performed, we have resolved upon taking one down this year, and the other next year. This makes two messes, but renders it possible [for us] to continue occupants of a part of the house. The builders up here were more inexperienced five years ago than they are now. The foundations were not well managed, and the chimneys themselves most enormous ones. Some of the rooms will be greatly improved by the alteration. One chimney we shall not rebuild, but have stoves. The horizontal lines of the building have been greatly unsettled by these weighty masses of stonework ... John’s present work [...] is about as unpleasant as any that can devolve upon the Canadian settler. It is termed ‘branding,’ and consists in going about among the burning log heaps, and putting together the fragments as they scatter in burning down, so that all may be consumed. The heat, you may suppose, is just as much as is endurable. The smoke is most distressing to the eyes, and the dirt beyond description. John has but a small piece of ground to burn himself, having given [out] a job of clearing this year, but he has been ‘branding’ the last three days, and it will take him at least another to get through. At night he goes to the lake to purify, but we admit him to

Letter from Anne Langton, 26 August 1842 349

the dinner-table in costume, the shades of which are somewhere between the smith and the chimney-sweeper. [...] Postscript by Ellen Langton18 The dahlia roots, which seemed to be dead, are many of them flourishing, promising to be very ornamental in a few weeks, if early frost does not make their beauty short-lived. The beautiful pansies come up thinly, except those I kept in the house in a box, which look remarkably healthy, but not yet in flower. Our chickens have been a sad failure this year, and we have no turkeys. My pigeons always sat in the poultry-house, but since that was pulled down and removed, they wander about and sit on the roof. [...] I look with pleasure and admiration at our verandah when I take my morning walk in it.19 The vines are up to the ceiling, and one of the rosetrees (a wild one) is nearly as high, and is quite a picture, so covered with flowers, and giving a sweet perfume, the want of which I have felt in the flowers in general here. When I think of what we were four years ago, our progress about the premises is wonderful, and repays us for all our care and painstaking. E.L. Extracts from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 26 August 1842 [...] I think, notwithstanding all the kind presents that are added [to your packages], our first thanks are due for the trouble you annually take in executing so many commissions for us.20 We are all much indebted to you, and John, in particular, who has already enough to do to provide the house with all its necessities, without having his taste and judgment further taxed to suit the ladies out of the paucity of a Canadian store. Can you fancy the interest and curiosity with which the little miniature cases were successively opened? The representation of the one face we all perfectly know [Alice] taught us in what respect we might, and in what we might not, trust to the correctness of the others. It was for the sake of the likenesses that we first

18 Recovered material (EP): ‘Postscript ... on the roof.’ 19 H.H. Langton does not attribute this paragraph to Ellen Langton. Instead, he places it as the last paragraph of Anne Langton’s letter of 23 July. 20 Recovered material (EP): ‘I think ... Canadian store.’ I have removed the first sentence in Philips’s edition, which was probably intended as an annotation, although she sets it as the first sentence of Anne Langton’s letter: ‘The two expected packages are reported as having safely arrived and the contents as being greatly appreciated.’

350 Journals and Letters, 1842

contemplated them, and only subsequently as curious specimens of a new art.21 Nothing of the kind has been before seen up here, and by some who do not read newspapers as we do, not even heard of. Newspapers certainly do help to keep one a little au fait of what is going on in the world ... The books you send for my lending library are very welcome.22 Those for our own perusal are more certain of being speedily useful when our reading months come [i.e., in winter]. They have already set John upon rearranging the shelves of the bookcase, and planning a new one for the dining-room .... The last few weeks have been quite uneventful.23 John attended to his duties at Peterboro as Councillor, and came home very disheartened about public business and the men he had to deal with. You must expect him to become very Tory-ish in his ideas [...]. By a foolish Act, and a more foolish repeal of the same Act, they have thrown school matters again into confusion. However, I trust there may be no interruption to the progress of ours, which so far, apparently, prospers.24 The attendance has been pretty good and regular, I understand, and the children are said to improve. [...] Our chief subject of interest lately has been a case of sickness and distress in the neighbourhood. A man just come into the country died of fever. About a fortnight later, three other members of the family fell ill and narrowly escaped the same fate. This occasioned a panic, and ended all but the most necessary intercourse with the shanties where the families lived. We had caused one of the two families living together to be removed to a shanty on my piece of land, which I honour with the name of ‘Farfield.’25 One courageous woman has been invaluable in both places. She said that she smoked and before going into the house took a little brandy and wormwood and considered herself proof against infection. [...] As soon as harvest is over we are to commence pulling down a chimney, and shall be in confusion.26 We have had very fine harvest weather so far, but a storm seems now impending. The garden is just now in great beauty.

21 Original notation (EP; reproduced in HHL): ‘Daguerreotypes.’ These were among the earliest types of photographic images. 22 Recovered material: ‘The books ... dining-room ... ’ 23 H.H. Langton has this paragraph as the beginning of a new entry, dated 16 September 1842. But it appears more likely to belong with extracts from the letter of 26 August 1842, where Philips places it. 24 Recovered material (EP): ‘However ... to improve ... ’ 25 H.H. Langton has ‘our piece of land’ and omits the following ‘which I honour with the name of “Farfield.’’’ 26 Recovered material (EP): ‘As soon ... is advancing.’

Letter from Anne Langton, 16 September 1842 351

Both useful and ornamental gardens are giving satisfaction at present. We are feasting upon vegetables, and a large and excellent melon graces the tea-table each evening. Extracts from a letter, dated Blythe, September 16 1842 We had hoped to have begun our chimney business by this time, but hindrances have arisen. Our right hand, Taylor, has been laid up, and has now part of his harvest to get in before he can come, whilst the weather reminds us of how the season is advancing. [...] Frost, however, ought to be welcome this Fall as it will probably prove a check to ague, which prevails still very generally, and there are still some other cases of fever in the neighbourhood.27 The Thornhill family [who had been removed to our shanty] are now all convalescent, and as no further fatal cases have occurred, I hope there is not so much danger in the present prevailing complaint as, from some of its violent symptoms, anxious friends are led to apprehend. We so often hear that people are not expected to live through the night that we begin to disbelieve the seriousness of the reports. They are very unknowing about medicines. Some take double doses, and our poor widow gave all the physic we sent to the one child who patiently took it, whilst the other who declined it went without. [...] Amongst the other invalids has been our dog ‘Nettle,’ in consequence, we believe, of meddling with a dead porcupine.28 The quills have entered a tender part, and are not all out yet, I am afraid. We killed a porcupine here the other day, and ate it. It is said to resemble sucking-pig, but I thought it more like lamb. We took good care to make away with its covering, for, alive or dead, they are very dangerous to the dogs. The motions of the animal are very like those of a bear, so much so that Aunt Alice, seeing one at a little distance, thought it was a young bear.29 The bears have let us alone this year more than last, but the foxes and the hawks are as destructive as ever. A hawk got hold of one of our pigeons the other day but, being pursued, let it drop. The poor creature was almost dead with terror, but otherwise no worse. [Editorial note (EP): In a letter dated October 9, 1842, mention is made of a great deal of fever and ague, and the family at Blythe had not escaped [...]]

27 From this point, the number of ague cases in the district increases each year. 28 Recovered material (EP): ‘Amongst the other ... am afraid.’ 29 Recovered material (EP): ‘The motions ... one it makes.’

352 Journals and Letters, 1842

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 November–3 December 1842 Tuesday, November 1.30 November of last year I passed over, as no pattern for that of other years. What this will turn out remains to be seen, but it opens favourably, namely, with weather that would do credit to any month, much more so to this much calumniated one. [...] I will tell you a little of our past and our present, that you may better follow the narrative of our future. We are restored to the comfort of our own parlour and bedrooms, but the partition between the dining-room and the hall is still not up, so we have converted the last built lodging-room into a dining-room for the present, and an excellent one it makes. Our carpenter had to leave us in an unfinished state to go and get in his potatoes, but I am happy to say he is at work again now.31 The hall and dining-room will be heated by one stove, and the partition will be made to open with large doors if occasion requires it. A stove here is a perfectly movable piece of furniture, so that it may be placed elsewhere or taken altogether away, if in summer we were to desire to avail ourselves of the folding doors, and make a large room of the two. We are not contemplating giving a ball, but were pleased with the spacious, airy appearance, and the thing is easily done. The partition will be of butternut, and the dining-room will be lined with the same, but the hall will exhibit its bare logs for some time longer.32 I hope before I close this journal I may be able to give you a better account of my mother than I could do now. She has been suffering from headaches very much the last week, and I do not think she mended the matter by going up to the Falls last Sunday. She wished very much to go to church once more before winter, but was disappointed, as Mr. Fidler was too unwell to perform the service. It is clearly an unhealthy season, and many of these ailments, which do not assume the distinctive marks of the ague, are yet, no doubt, attributable to the same cause. There are a few cases of scarlet fever at the Falls now; I hope that will not spread too.

30 November is the only month of the calendar year that Langton has not yet covered in her monthly records. Although she finds it one of the least interesting months, she cannot avoid covering it if she is to hold to her original plan. 31 At this point, H.H. Langton places the following sentence: ‘The partition between the hall and dining-room is not yet up.’ He takes this sentence from a passage that was in Philips’s edition but that he has omitted from his own until this point. 32 The butternut panelling was later presented to Fenelon Falls Museum by a member of the Langton family. It is still on view there.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 November–3 December 1842 353

Thursday, November 3. I did not take out my journal last night, Mr. Boyd having walked in just before tea.33 The chief event of the day was the arrival of your letter, which appeared with John at the breakfast table. He had arrived home before the lights were extinguished in this house, but reserved our treat for the morning. [...] I can well imagine how we may have omitted to mention Aunt Alice, perhaps for several letters in succession, for the even tenor of her way affords but little room for observation. However, we will bear in mind that it is difficult to realise the truth that no news is good news, and in future you shall hear more particularly of her welfare. The most effectual way would be her occasionally taking a portion of the sheet, but, like John, she does not patronise the system of joint epistles. [...] The weather still continues most splendid. It is quite melancholy in such beautiful sunshine to be making preparations against frost and snow, and almost all our occupations just now have these in view, getting everything into the house or into the cellar that can be possibly injured by the sudden appearance of the enemy. [...] The news of to-day is not very pleasant. The mill at the Falls is broken. However, as the accident by which it suffered might easily have proved fatal to two men, their escape should make us think more lightly of the minor evil. Nevertheless, the prospect of having to take every gram of wheat down to Bobcaygeon is dismal enough for the whole neighbourhood. We must eat less bread and more meat, which last is dreadfully cheap, so much so that nobody likes to kill anything that they can keep alive, and to make fat does not pay at all. Pork is something less than a penny a pound, and beef about a penny farthing. [...] Friday, November 4. John was at the Falls this morning and brought down the comfortable intelligence that the story about the mill is a great exaggeration, and that we may hope to have our corn ground as usual there this winter. His errand, in which he did not succeed, was to get a rafting-chain, having sent men to cut building logs a little lower down the lake, where they abound, and the woods around here have been well picked through. ... I have been manufacturing a pattern body, that I may send down an order for a riding-dress.34 I long to see myself thoroughly equipped as an equestrian, though I daresay I shall not mount very often. The last time I

33 Recovered material (EP): ‘I did not ... the enemy.’ 34 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have been ... of the woods.’

354 Journals and Letters, 1842

was on horseback was in your company, Margaret, on the first of June 1831. If you do not remember the ride, I have no doubt that you remember the day, for it was a much more important one in your life than mine.35 We have some idea of having a third horse; the reason for which, if you remember the history of the previous winters, and the frequency with which all work has been interrupted, will be apparent. John intends to dispose of his favourite – Robin. He is a nice horse, and a great beauty, but rather too fine a gentleman for the rough ways of the woods. My mother’s head continues very bad. John and I would persuade her that it is aguish. Everybody agrees that the headache which accompanies the prevalent complaint is very peculiar, and very bad; indeed it is attended with more, and more serious, aches and pains than I had conceived of it and such as often occasion alarm until their connection with ague is clearly proved. I am strongly inclined to the opinion that ague was mingling itself with the late symptoms of my mother’s illness last year. It is by no means necessary that a person must shake in the ague. When they do, the complaint is more treatable; the dumb ague often lasts for months. [...]36 Sunday, November 6. John decided to start this afternoon, and get as far as Bobcaygeon to-night.37 The lake was like a looking-glass as we went up to church this morning, but I fear that a change in the weather is impending, and our travellers will have rain for the latter part of their journey. They started soon after dinner, and pretty busy we were, giving John our list of commissions for Peterboro. It is a pretty long one for he has not been down since the beginning of August, and will not go again, in all probability, during this year. Moreover, the Store at the Falls is now entirely given up, so that we have to send to Peterboro for every individual thing, down to a bit of pepper. I believe that Mr. Sawers intends to have a store at Bobcaygeon, but I do not anticipate much from it, nor can it be a great convenience to us. [...] Monday, November 7. My mother put a blister on her head last night, not, however, with any perceptible good effect.38 It may tell more to-morrow, perhaps. This headache increases her deafness very much, but I hope that will mend again when the 35 36 37 38

William and Margaret Langton became engaged in June 1831. The ‘dumb ague’ did not produce the shivering characteristic of full-blown ague. Recovered material (EP): ‘John decided ... after dinner, and ... ’ Recovered material (EP): ‘My mother put ... anywhere else.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 November–3 December 1842 355

pain departs. I was stirring all morning, but my labours make no show, nor can I contrive to make them illustrate any peculiarities of our backwoods’ life. They were such as might have occupied the superintendent of a household anywhere else. I had a long confab with our school commissioner, Taylor, about the school. They are just beginning to build a house for it in a permanent situation, nearly three miles from here. I think I shall talk to Taylor about the library, as he is interested in all such things, and is the only active man in the Bobcaygeon library. I find that the quarterly sixpence is a hindrance to the circulation of the books. Some ‘intend’ to subscribe and never do, whilst others, who are really thriving, say they have never found themselves rich enough. This must be more from the scarcity of cash than from the actual value of the sum. John says there seems no difficulty in producing sixpence for a glass of grog! I think I shall be obliged to accept a pound of butter or a few eggs in payment, and put the sixpence into the bag myself. I am afraid that I shall have to be perpetually dunning one subscriber or another. I talk as if I had a great many, but I have but four to my own library, and three to that of Bobcaygeon, some of them being the same. However, reading time [winter] has not come yet. [...] Tuesday, November 8. I spent a great part of the morning in my store-room. Its contents had been removed for some of our arrangements this summer, and have now been restored to their winter quarters.39 It would have been a job just in my mother’s line had she been equal to it. It requires very neat packing now to get things neatly stowed away. You have no idea how things accumulate here. In the first place, there is the necessity of having stores of everything. Then there is the habit, that grows upon one, of having a good stock beforehand of consumables, and reserves of articles that are liable to decay, and lastly, the duty of carefully putting away anything that may by any chance ever become useful for any purpose again. If we send an order to the tailor we have to send thread, buttons, lining, etc., and sometimes the tailor will come to us to beg a bit of lining for another person’s coat. [...] Wednesday, November 9. [...] To-night I have been stitching very diligently at a gingham gown of my mother’s that I am altering for myself, and when I have done it I must

39 Recovered material (EP): ‘It contents ... stowed away.’

356 Journals and Letters, 1842

attack a silk one, which I consider a very important affair, for a better gown here lasts for years. The muslin one you got for me will last for ever, unless I degrade it. It has acted the part of a better gown a year and a half, that is, it has lain in my drawer ready for use, and has never been put on. This durability does not extend to common gowns, and I find my wardrobe suddenly getting low. If you see anything pretty for a morning gown I shall be glad if you will get it for me. When I say for morning I do not mean the rough garment I have described myself as wearing, but one in which I shall feel neatly dressed. I must tell you I grow more and more averse to light colours, and do not patronise thin muslins, because they look neat for so short a time. This will prove a very extravagant year, to make up for the last, when, beyond my English shoes, I spent nothing in dress, my mother having made me a present of the muslin, which she could well afford to do, as the sum total of her own expenditure had been eight shillings. There are certainly some advantages in living in the backwoods. I am still more inclined to think that my mother’s headaches are allied to ague, and could I disguise the bitter, I should be apt to put a dose of quinine in her coffee to-morrow morning. We were obliged to send for a collection of little phials of quinine, which are still in great circulation, and seldom a day passes that one does not appear to be replenished. I wonder how many doses of medicine I have weighed up in the last four months! I think almost as many as some village apothecaries. I have altogether written of myself on this last page, but you shall now hear what the other ladies have been doing.40 My mother has had a nice invalid employment in re-lining a workbox, and replenishing her own and everybody’s needle-book. Aunt Alice has been mending and altering a pair of John’s old trousers for our boy, whose parents get all his money, and send him no clothes, expecting, I suppose, as has often been the case, that we shall take compassion upon him and give him some. [...] Friday, November 11. We have been busy in the kitchen to-day, and if you could have looked in upon us the sight would have appeared rather strange in your eyes. It has ceased to seem strange to me. I regard preparing hams and pigs’ heads as the natural care of the mistress or daughter of the house. I have begun my list of commissions for next year. If you have purchased any more stockings for me they will be welcome, as I care not how large is my stock of so useful an

40 Recovered material (EP): ‘I have altogether ... for next year.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 November–3 December 1842 357

article. I intend to wear every one of those I have myself, they are very comfortable, now that I am accustomed to them. I believe I criticised the texture as well as the size, but I had been comparing them with some particularly soft ones of my mother’s, of long ago, that I had been wearing. We had a fire in the hall stove for the first time to-day, when the dumb stove in my room was proved to give out a great deal of heat, and produced a most comfortable temperature. It is merely a sort of enlargement of the stove-pipe of sheet-iron, looks neat in the room, and will be a great addition to the comfort of the house. We are sadly spoiled in these cold winters with our heated halls and staircases, and fires in lodging-rooms from morning till night. Sunday, November 13.41 Yesterday produced nothing important. It snowed all day, as if we were going to be finally covered up, but the snow has been melting again to-day under a hot sun. It was beautifully fine but much too dirty to go to church. We have probably made our last water expedition to the Falls. I think I never ascend the river without building a castle about taking you, William, up. I fancy to myself what impressions would be made upon you, and recall my own first ones, and such are generally some of my musings at the helm. I am sorry to say that our servant, Margaret, had another ague fit to-day, and spent the greater part of the time in bed. The mention of her name reminds me that when you last heard of our arrangements she was our temporary servant, but she has become our regular one again, so that the establishment is precisely what it was last winter [...] Mr. Boyd was good enough to come and look after us to-day, which we thought very kind and civil. He brought no particular news, but the agreeable intelligence reached us through another channel that John may be home to-morrow. I should not perhaps call it agreeable, for I wished the Cobourg journey to come off now, instead of continuing to impend. It relates to settlement of accounts with the Newcastle District, from which ours has been set apart, and the difficulty of providing an arbitrator, satisfactory to both parties, has been a main cause of delay. Monday, November 14. John is not arrived, but some of his packages are, by the passage boat. We have got an addition to our livestock – four beautiful hens, and a little

41 Recovered material (EP): ‘Sunday ... an arrow.’

358 Journals and Letters, 1842

Newfoundland puppy dog. How naturally boys take to dogs. The little animal was taken to Henry’s, and when I informed Timothy we could have it up here, and that he might go for it, he scarcely waited to hear me out, but with an exclamation of delight, darted off like an arrow. [...] My mother, who was comfortable yesterday, has been very poorly to-day with new and additional pains, so she has been amusing herself with making a warm petticoat for one of the family of the poor widow, whose case was mentioned in former letters. Excepting for ague, which occasionally visits her [the widow], the family is quite recovered from sickness. We have had the old shanty made tight for her, so that she is as comfortably housed as many of her neighbours. A subscription list is now going the round. Some put down their names for a bushel of wheat, some for a small sum of money, or to such a value in provisions, and amongst us there will be no immediate prospect of starvation for her.42 Unfortunately the eldest girl, the only one old enough to be useful is exceedingly deaf, which will be a great hindrance to getting her into service. My mother talks of taking pains to make her a neat needlewoman which might compensate in part for her deafness. Tuesday, November 15. Between writing this date and proceeding to journalise upon it, I have produced some wine and ginger-bread to celebrate your wedding day, and now I will go on with this its eleventh anniversary.43 I hope it will have produced something brighter with you than with us. I am afraid we have an accession to the number of our ague patients in the person of Miss Currer, at least she has most of the symptoms which generally attend its commencement. My mother’s head has been better to-day, but some of her other pains so great that we do not venture upon administering quinine. Margaret was also, of course, invalidish to-day, but she is wonderfully well, on the alternate days, so that we regulate household arrangements accordingly, and alter the work, etc., so as to fall upon the ‘well’ days. My mother finds out that our life is dull now that she is not well, and as we have no prospect of visitors to enliven us it has been projected that I should go up to the Falls for our letters to-morrow, and try to bring home a little news, or variety of some kind, but there are many chances against my accomplishing the journey. 42 The Langtons often took charge of organizing subscriptions in the neighbourhood to raise funds for less fortunate settlers on such occasions as the death of the head of a household, or when some other severe misfortunes threatened a family’s survival. 43 Recovered material (EP): ‘Between writing ... “well” days.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 November–3 December 1842 359

John’s non-appearance inclines me to believe that our information was erroneous, and that he has either gone to Cobourg, or has been otherwise detained on official business. He is in great hopes that he may be balloted out of the Council now. He neither likes the time it costs him nor the expense. [...] Thursday, November 17. [...] I have been trying to manufacture myself a winter bonnet to-day, for I am getting tired of my cap. It is rather guess-work, as I am ignorant concerning shapes. However, I do not feel that it would be wise to send any order for a bonnet, as it is by no means every one that would suit my physiognomy. I wish that I could procure a Persian lady’s headdress, so as to conceal it altogether. [...] Friday, November 18. Real winter at last, thermometer about 12, and a high wind. Many is the sigh that has been given to John to-day, wondering where he is, and wishing he were at home. But we in the house are not always good judges how endurable it may be outside. I remember feeling very anxious one day last winter, when he was to ride down to Peterboro, after staying the night at the Beehive, and consoling myself with thinking that he certainly never would set out, for it was as many degrees below zero as it is now above it, and blowing most fiercely, but he did set out, and, moreover, declared that he had never felt cold all day. I have completed my bonnet, and very pretty and snug it looks, that is, it would be pretty on any other head. I shall not want it till about Christmas, but I am getting all these little jobs done that I may with a good conscience make an attack upon my chair; it has been about nine months untouched. My mother has begun a letter to you today.44 Both she and Aunt Alice keep better. This frost will answer the end of quinine, I hope. This little settlement has not been quite so severely dealt with by ague as another populous district behind Mr. Fraser’s, where three individuals only have escaped, whole families being ill at once. Sunday, November 20. [...] I hope the wind will not rise again to-night, for the sake of a basket of delicacies, which is doomed to pass it perched on the top of a high stump, if happily it does not lie at the bottom of it. My mother was sending an offer-

44 Recovered material (EP): ‘My mother has begun ... at once.’

360 Journals and Letters, 1842

ing to Mr. Boyd, and Timothy, our boy, finding no one at home and the door locked, took this method of ensuring the safety of his cargo until Mr. Boyd’s return; but it is scarcely likely that arriving at, or after, dark, the unexpected basket will attract his immediate attention. If it escapes the beasts of the field, there are the fowls of the air that might scent out the dainties. The thought of the feast they will have reminds me of one we saw devoured on the ice last spring. John had been observing the motions of an eagle, and, taking the telescope, saw it with its beak break through the ice, which must have been pretty thick, though softish, and afterwards with its talons hook on to a large muskinonge. We watched it for a long time enjoying its meal, whilst another eagle waited patiently to seize upon the remainder, when its companion should be satisfied, the smaller birds hovering round at a more respectful distance. The weather has been so moderate to-day that I think John may have set out, if his business was finished, but the character of the Cobourg discussion has been that of tedious delay all along. Moreover, he had another affair on hand besides the Council work, having been appointed an arbitrator in another dispute, the merits of which, nay, even the subject of it, he was unacquainted with when he went down. I dreamt of my journal last night, but somehow or other matters were reversed, and we had all the children here, of whom I had many things to record, but I only remember one prank distinctly.45 One of the party had taken a bundle of best drawing pencils, all pointed ready for use, and began throwing them one by one as javelins into the fireplace, where, however, there was no fire. But when the missles [sic] were nearly expended, the lost point of one of them, hitting the dog-iron, struck fire, when the valuable fagot all kindled up, and with great difficulty I extricated one or two from the burning mass. As this was dreamt especially for your entertainment, I could not withhold it! The dear little ones! they are often in my thoughts, though their names have not yet found their way into this sheet. I have

45 Recovered material (EP): ‘I dreamt ... smother them.’ This passage is a rare instance of Langton’s revealing intimate details of her interior life. Perhaps the fact that the material arises from and is presented within the context of a dream releases her from her usual inhibitions. Interestingly, the substance of her dream shows a conflict (albeit it in the realm of children’s ‘play’) in which the children’s spontaneous ‘creative’ dramatic urges – which she admires – collide with the need to protect the means by which she creates her own art. Her two most precious loves pull her in opposing directions. H.H. Langton’s omission of this passage possibly indicates that he viewed such personal, ‘emotional’ material as of minor significance to anyone beyond the family.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 November–3 December 1842 361

some misgivings that I never directly thanked Alice and Ellen for their presents and letters. The fact was, I intended to write them, or rather did actually write them each a letter, which were to have gone by Mr. Wallis, but it was decreed that [not] being a sworn postmaster, I could not ask him to take charge of them. We are now very scrupulous about putting even a note into a box going by private hand. Give them now their aunt’s kind love, and just as many kisses as will not quite smother them. Thursday, November 24. I am rejoiced to have to say that John is once more at home again. [...] A bad cold had been the first cause of his detention, then unexpected public business, and these things, together with the inclemency of the weather and the dreadful state of the roads, combined to prolong his absence. He would scarcely have attempted the journey now had he not thought that we should begin to be anxious, and so we all had been, though we said little of our fears to one another.46 We are become more liable to take alarm, so many fatal accidents have been brought under our notice, occurring either to those we knew or to their immediate connections. I am sorry to say that I have another to record, whereby poor Mr. Jamieson is mourner. A younger brother had just arrived out, and the two, along with another gentleman, were in a sailing boat near Kingston, when it upset. Mr. Jamieson, as the best swimmer, made for the shore, two or three hundred yards distant, whilst the others remained on the keel of the boat until he should bring assistance. But he lost his way in the woods, and after wandering about for two hours in the dark, reached the spot from which he started, to find his companions still on the boat. They called to him that they were getting quite numb and stiff, and again he started to get help. This time he succeeded, but too late, his companions had disappeared. Their bodies were found the next morning. What an agonising time for Mr. Jamieson, whilst in vain endeavouring to recover his way. He himself was perfectly exhausted by his efforts. On this lake he has had as narrow an escape as man could have, and but for Mr. M’Andrew would have perished. Such a catastrophe makes one feel doubly thankful, when all that is most dear to us is safely housed around us, but the mercy we are experiencing is still more brought home to us by another unhappy occurrence. John was strongly recommended and urged to come by Mud Lake and cross the ice. He entirely declined doing so; the same day a man was

46 Recovered material (EP): ‘He would scarcely ... unhappy occurrence.’

362 Journals and Letters, 1842

drowned in attempting it. May we show forth our thankfulness, ‘not only with our lips, but in our lives’!47 I must now return to yesterday. My mother says she is tired of seeing the snow, which is early in the day. We certainly have a prospect of soon sleighing this winter. Mr. Boyd, who was always a favourite, has completely won our hearts by paying us another visit. He brought back our empty basket, and alas! empty it had been when he found it the same morning. [...] Mr. Boyd and I had a game at chess together.48 He professes to know very little of the game, but he beat me. I have played occasionally lately with John, he having a board before him, but no men, whilst I play his men at his dictation. Strange to say, I have never won a game, even with this advantage over him. [...] Friday, November 25. I had so much to write yesterday that I forgot to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of October 16, and Mrs. Weld’s, with the long recipe for currant wine, which at first sight quite frightened me, but I find it has acquired its magnitude from the character of the writer [...]. The lake is now completely frozen over, and the snow keeps falling.49 Never was there so much [snow] remembered in November before. As usual in unseasonable seasons, many are put out of their way. Few people have done their under-brushing, and unless the brush is cut away before snow, they cannot get clear. [...] Saturday, November 26. I shall send off my letter to-morrow to ensure its sailing the middle of next month. I will conclude it with a bulletin of health. My mother is much better than she was at the commencement, though still not in her average health, but very busy with her needle in the service of others. Aunt Alice knitting away diligently, and pretty well again. John’s cold not improved by his tramp through the snow, but he says it is only taking its natural course, myself à merveille. Monday, November 28. The weather was so cold yesterday that no one went to church, and my letter in consequence did not get to the post. I may therefore give you the

47 Recovered material (EP): ‘May we ... this winter.’ 48 Recovered material (EP): ‘Mr. Boyd and I ... write yesterday that ... ’ 49 Recovered material (EP): ‘The lake ... remainder of the month.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 November–3 December 1842 363

remainder of the month. Mr. Boyd arrived again yesterday to pay his visit of welcome to John as he had of charity to us, and we have succeeded in keeping him today. Such a thing in ordinary times is a perfect impossibility, for he is one of the most industrious home-keeping settlers we have. But the snow has left him nothing to do, and I think if it does not go away, and make chopping practicable, we may have more of his company this winter than usual. The mercury has been dropping below zero, I suspect, though it was a trifle above it when I looked out this morning, and the putting in of double windows, and stuffing with cotton-wool, has been a good part of my occupation today. One of the things that were not accomplished before winter set in was the erection of a new poultry-house. You know the cause of the evacuation of the old one. Their temporary habitation is found quite insufficient to shield them against the cold; one or two have had their feet frozen already, so we have sent them down to the farm-yard to sleep with the cattle. It is a very common thing for poultry to lose some of their toes in winter [...]. Tuesday, November 29. It is dear little Ellen’s birthday.50 Many returns of it to her! I shall produce some cake and wine to-night to do her honour. I generally remember all the birthdays in your family, but they are getting rather numerous to make holidays of. Still very cold. The weather makes Mr. Boyd more persuadable, and he is still here, but, in order not to lose time, manufacturing a pair of snowboots of John’s kersey.51 John only waits the result to make a pair too. He has cut out a great deal of work for himself. A cap, a waistcoat, a pair of gaiters, and these snow-boots. His comfort ought to be complete before the New Year as he will be away, I am afraid, for some weeks after the New Year. One arbitration comes on the beginning of January, the other towards the end of that month, and the District Council again early in February. Mr. Need was balloted out; John was not so fortunate. Mr. Need’s deafness, which is much increased, makes him very unfit for the post of Council man. Wednesday, November 30. Mr. Boyd left us this morning, and I do not think that John would have enjoyed his society much had he remained another day, for he [John] is suffering to-night from rheumatism in his head, alias ague. I slipped away,

50 Recovered material (EP): ‘It is dear ... after the New Year.’ 51 Kersey: ‘coarse narrow cloth woven from short staple wool, usu. ribbed’ (OED).

364 Journals and Letters, 1842

unknown to John, after tea, and down to his house to put up his winter canopy, for the winds find such ready entrance into his house that such a shelter is quite necessary. I wished it had been fixed up sooner. When he is not well it is very dismal turning him out at nights, but he is very averse to leaving his own house, even for a time. We have had more snow, and the wind drifting it, so that the pathway was quite invisible, and I have seldom floundered through deeper drifts than to-night. John is better this morning.52 Two applications for quinine convince us that ague is still stirring, notwithstanding the frost. This is unusual, and Canadians say that the species of ague we have had this year is much worse than ordinary ague. Some attribute it to the raising of our waters, and say we shall always have it; others assure us that everywhere it has been more prevalent than usual this year, so we hope to fare better another year. My mother’s headaches continue, though not so severe, at least not so incessant. Aunt Alice is but middling. I think it is high time that I should more particularly introduce you to Master ‘Bruin,’ our Newfoundland dog, for he is beginning to be a decided character, and at any rate seems to intend to make a great noise in the world, treating us to as many howlings and yellings as little ‘Fury’ used to do.53 Nevertheless, he is gaining great favour amongst us, and runs no small chance of being a little bit spoiled. He has had a narrow escape, the whole weight of John’s piece of kersey having come down upon him. At first he appeared seriously hurt, but I think now he will be no worse. The name he has received is very appropriate, his shaggy coat and broad paw quite entitling him to the appellation. Friday, December 2.54 There is a pile of hams and bacon ready for salting to-morrow, which looks like anything but a famine, but the larder presents a very different spectacle to what it did last year. There is neither beef nor mutton, the remains only of one solitary haunch of venison; nor have the woods furnished us with either pigeons or partridges this year, but there is plenty of pork! [...]

52 Philips makes this paragraph a new entry and mistakenly dates it 31 November. Logically, it should be 1 December. 53 Recovered material, (EP): ‘I think ... appellation.’ 54 Philips has ‘Friday, December 1’; H.H. Langton has ‘Friday, December 2.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1 November–3 December 1842 365

Saturday, December 3.55 Once more I must take my leave of you, having now completed the twelfth journal. I can scarcely believe that I have given you the record of a whole year – at different times. You will see that times are somewhat changed since I commenced these scribblings. Many things are more complete and comfortable around us, and though some things are taken off our hands by the increase of our establishment, yet there remain an abundance of cares and occupation. The details I have entered less into than formerly, for there is much sameness in them, and when there is no novelty to recommend them, they are certainly not generally ornamental to my page. [...]56 I must not forget to tell you that the anemones are beginning to come up. They inhabit my apartment, whose temperature with its dumb stove is delightful. We are inclined to think that we have run into a contrary extreme with our dahlia roots this year, and let them dry too much. We have them packed in sand; I shall be anxious to see the result. John’s ague still hangs about him, but not so as to make him an invalid. Aunt Alice looks ill, and has lost her appetite. My mother is very deaf, and myself with a little cold, but not of any consequence. I often consider how thankful I ought to be for the health that I enjoy. My mother is feeling very anxious on your account, lest the agitation that seems to exist in the commercial world should have added to your anxieties, now that Sir Benjamin’s indifferent health leaves you even more than your usual weight of responsibility.57 [Editorial note (EP): In a letter dated November 19, 1842, our grandmother mentions her own state of health, her headaches, sometimes violent, resulting in a feeling of internal soreness, her deafness increasing, and her physical powers failing. She describes herself as sitting in her chair much more than formerly, with her little table before her, with a little work, and a little reading. She mentions their pleasure on the arrival of newspapers of various kinds from England, and also local [ones]. And she follows, as she always had done, English politics with keen interest. [...]]

55 Philips has ‘Saturday, December 2.’ 56 Recovered material (EP): ‘and when there is no novelty … weight of responsibility.’ 57 Sir Benjamin Heywood was William Langton’s mentor in the banking field.

Recto Running Head 366

Letters, 1843

Extracts from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 11 February 1843 We have had a stirring time since our last letter left a week ago. On Sunday a party of Dunsfords, three gentlemen and Miss Dunsford, went up to church to take their guest, Miss Clarke, to Mr. Fidler’s, and after leaving her there drove down with us to dinner before going home.1 Such a peppering storm of wind and snow had overtaken us that we did not let them proceed, and the weather continued so bad that they all remained with us until Tuesday. On that day John went down to meet and bring up Mr. Need, who had promised us a visit, and shortly after they had appeared, two other gentlemen arrived, strangers, one personally, the other entirely. Of this last we should yet have known nothing but the name, Keeting, had not Mr. Need whispered that he was an Indian Chief. He was a thorough Englishman, nevertheless, but he had married a Chief’s daughter, was adopted by him, and was now himself Chief of the tribe, and at present on an expedition amongst the Indians. We soon found that he was intimately acquainted with the Indians and their language, but so he was also with other peoples and their languages, being evidently a traveller, and a man of the world.2 His conversation was very amusing, and you may suppose in quite a differ-

1 Original notation (EP): ‘The Miss Clarke alluded to had been a neighbour of the Dunsford family in Gloucestershire. My Aunt Anne kept up a friendship with her after they were both in England [i.e., during Anne Langton’s extended visits to England later in her life].’ 2 Original notation (EP): ‘Some good hints in cookery appear to have been obtained from the Indian Chief, who professed himself “a capital cook.’’’

Letter from Anne Langton, 14 April 1843 367

ent style from what proceeds from the Canadian farmer, engrafted upon the schoolboy, and of this last class are most of our young men. All these remained with us until Friday, when John accompanied them down, as he had to go to Cobourg again before the meeting of the Council. [...] Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 14 April 1843 Ten days since we had experienced no interruption to the rigours of our winter.3 It had continued to freeze, to snow, and especially to blow, almost without intermission, until the fourth of this month, since which the accumulations of drift have been disappearing so rapidly under a hot sun that we promise ourselves in another ten days to be busily employed in our gardens. This sudden change has not suited my mother, and the constant succession of guests that we had during March was tiring for her. We had the Dennistouns and others for a night on their way to or from Peterboro, besides several strangers at different times. We have rather a large list of invalids for such a small number of families. We do not hear much of ague as yet, only a few cases, and mostly those who were suffering from it last year. The long continuance of severe weather and dry food, even when there is no scarcity of it, has been very unfavourable to the cattle in some places – not so here, but the little lambs have been dying almost as fast as they came into the world. The roads have been good for sleighing, and I made my début in driving the other day. John had more grist for the mill than he could take at once, so I volunteered to drive one load, whilst he drove the other. Our journey was performed very prosperously. A strange, luminous appearance in the heavens has been seen by many at different times lately. John saw it twice while on his travels – a streak of light following the sun, neither resembling a comet nor zodiacal light. We have no wise men here to interpret it. Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 25 May 1843 We have had a beautiful spring. The enormous quantity of snow which remained undiminished until after April had begun, disappeared rapidly by evaporation with much less inconvenience than it usually does, and since

3 Recovered material (EP): ‘Ten days ... into the world.’

368 Letters, 1843

its departure there has scarcely been a day when the business of the garden has been interrupted by weather. I am sorry to say that the ague prevails again, and the applications for quinine are as numerous as ever. John has an occasional touch of it, but only slight, and such as rarely interferes with his avocations. Our household, once unsettled, continues so at present. Neither Margaret’s successor nor Timothy’s are likely to remain. We intend to do without a boy this summer, and share with John in a man who is already somewhat known to us, and who may accomplish the little work we have about the house at this season without greatly interfering with his farm duties. Margaret was married in March, and since her husband took Mr. Boyd’s farm he has lost twenty-one head of cattle, counting lambs, so they have not begun their married life prosperously. John’s ewes, though never pinched for food, had scarcely any sustenance for their offspring, so the lambs have fared badly. We took one little lamb to rear, which has been a source of interest and amusement the last month, and is now a wonderful pet. Aunt Alice is mourning over the disappearance of our cat, who, I fancy, has taken to the woods, as cats often do here. Mr. Boyd has had one nine years, which goes away every summer, and never shows itself until the approach of winter, when it returns as tame as ever, and takes to all its old habits again. [...] [Editorial note (EP, HHL): The visit of the Bishop was this year one of the principal events – for a confirmation. The little church at Fenelon Falls was not yet consecrated, owing to some difficulty about funds. The church at Peterboro was likewise in difficulties, and there was a possibility that it might be shut up.4 Canada was at this time a very poor country, and public concerns were not well-managed.] Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 18 November 1843 We had some visitors during October – three of the Miss Dunsfords among the number.5 Now winter has taken us rather by surprise. Of Indian summer

4 St John’s Anglican Church in Peterborough still thrives. 5 Here Anne Langton gives no details of this visit or any indication of how she regards the new guests. In The Story of Our Family, written some thirty-five years later, Langton describes the visit thus: ‘A portion of the family at The Beehive had been suffering from whooping cough, and we asked the convalescent to come to Blythe for change of air. Four of them came, and remained with us three weeks – a period which is always known amongst us as the three weeks, and no doubt they were sufficiently important, as tending greatly to ripen what finally united the two families; but this not being a love story, I pass over details’ (Story, 95).

Letter from John Langton, December 1843 369

we have not had a day this year, and very little fine weather since the first departure of summer. The frost has been continuous until these last two days, when the lake has opened again, with wind and rain.6 I fancy a little open weather will be very acceptable, and enable people to get a little more of their autumn work done. My garden was never put by for the winter with so little order in it, partly on account of weather, partly the visitors, and partly the bad colds, which we all had together. The Falls is rather a melancholy-looking place at present, so many families that had settled there gone. Wolves are very numerous this winter. They have visited our flock twice, and our neighbours do not fare better. We had a daylight exhibition of them the other day. We observed five or six, and watched them through the telescope, sporting most composedly in the meadow for at least half-anhour. [Editorial note (EP, HHL): In December the principal event was the cutting of a new road to Bobcaygeon, which would greatly facilitate the necessary journeys to Peterboro, and make travellers independent of the condition of the lake.] Letter from John Langton to William Langton, December 18437 They have handed over to me this letter which I will begin with a continuation of a conversation I have just been holding with Anne, the subject of which will no doubt rather surprise you, being no less than an idea of my going into Parliament.8 I have for two years heard rumours of such a thing and have been frequently sounded upon the subject by people from various townships, but I have never distinctly as yet said yes or no upon the subject. But I must soon, and probably even before I can hear from you, come to some decision upon the subject as the present Government is about expiring and during the winter probably the candidates will be in the field. We are here rather curiously situated with respect to our representation. We formerly belonged to the County of Durham in the Newcastle District and the other half of that district was comprised in the County 6 Recovered material (EP): ‘The frost ... had together.’ 7 Philips omits this letter. 8 John Langton served on the District Council for several years, including a term as warden. He ultimately decided not to stand for Parliament at this time, but the episode foreshadows the dramatic turn that his life will take in the 1850s, when he will become member of the Legislative Assembly for Peterborough and District and relinquish farming.

370 Letters, 1843

of Northumberland. At the Union [of the two Canadas] when the representation was altered and curtailed, we had not as yet been erected into a new District and Durham returned one member while Northumberland was divided into two ridings, the northern of which was identical with the eastern half of our new District of Colborne, so that when the new Act came into operation instead of the Colborne District being represented by one member, half of it returned one and our half was still part of the County of Durham for election purposes. This state of affairs being favourable to the Radicals they have been in no hurry to change it, but I understand we are likely to be now taken away from Durham and added to the north riding which will then be identical with the county of Peterborough and District of Colborne. It is only on this supposition that I should in any case come forward, but if such is the case I probably may. There certainly is no resident in our part of the District who would have nearly as good a chance as I should, and we form nearly one-half of the County and nine-tenths or more are Conservatives. In the north riding where the Radicals are of some force I am not so much known, but in two or three of the most influential townships I am, and it is from them principally that I have received requests to come forward. Besides myself, I hear of no less than five persons mentioned on the Conservative interest and one on the Radical, and if all the five come to the poll no doubt the Radical will get in and the Conservatives here are not wise enough to see this. My own opinion is that not one of the five will ever succeed even if they do not divide the interest, for not one of them has many active friends and many have on personal grounds most bitter enemies. I, on the contrary, have no enemy that I know of, except our present Radical member, and I entertain very little doubt that if I come forward I shall be elected. Against one Conservative candidate the Radicals would not have a chance, and I certainly should not allow myself to be named unless the Conservatives are somewhat united. The principal question is as to the policy of going into Parliament at all, and here I am a good deal at a loss. As to expense, that is not much, for the new election laws have rendered it almost impossible to spend money on the occasion. The polls are held in the several townships and are to be kept open one day, and there are such stringent regulations to prevent treating, conveying electors to the poll, and even flags and music, that it will require a few years’ experience before means of evading them are devised. The principal and almost only expense will be travelling about canvassing and that cannot be much where people put up at private houses oftener than at taverns. As to the expense of attending Parliament that is paid by a wage of

Letter from John Langton, December 1843 371

$3.00 per day. The neglect of one’s own business too will not be much, for our Parliaments do not sit long, and that in a vacant time of year. But what advantage is to be obtained by it? I am not gifted with any particular eloquence or genius for statesmanship so as to be either very useful or ornamental to the country, or to be likely to gain any important worldly advantage by becoming a public character, and it is hard to say what gain I might make by it. I put out of the question entirely the benefit which the public might receive from my presence in the legislature, as I suppose that would not be of any great moment. I am now only looking upon it from a personal point of view, and though I cannot see any great good to follow, I see no harm, and unless a man has some chance of mixing more in the world than I do, of knowing and being known, of hearing and being heard of, he may remain all his life in that most unpromising situation – a gentleman farming in Canada. I should like to hear your opinion upon the subject even should I have acted before receiving it, and when you do write you may spare yourself the trouble of giving me a lecture upon want of patriotism and interested motives etc., as I can easily conceive all that. I am not asking your advice as to the public advantage of going into Parliament but consulting you whether in my circumstances it would be personally advisable. I have political and local reasons for wishing to have a say in the affairs of the Province, and I think that I should make as useful a member as some and certainly a better one than others of the candidates, but I should hardly be patriotic enough to entail upon myself the trouble, expense, and anxiety of public business unless I saw a probability at any rate of not injuring my own personal interests. As to political matters in the Province they are in the very worst possible situation and must end, I think, in a separation of the Canadas or in another rebellion. Lord Sydenham was a real governor, and contrived to manage all parties and have his own way in spite of them all, and this is, I believe, the only way to keep matters smooth here. As long as we are a Province we must accommodate ourselves to the policy of the Home Government of which the Governor is the organ. If a few leading demagogues, backed by a temporary majority, are to lead the Governor by the nose, and he is to be allowed no resistance, we cease to be a Province and become an independent State, which God forbid! Lord Durham’s system of Responsible Government takes all power away from the Governor to place it in the ministry, and for any good he might, as far as I can see, as well have remained in Downing Street. Lord Sydenham put his own interpretation upon the matter, which agreed also with Lord John

372 Letters, 1843

Russell’s,9 and he was by no means a cipher, but oddly enough the Tories have allowed, or at least tacitly allowed, the full democratic extent of responsibility, and their Governors have done neither good nor bad, simply nothing. I cannot help thinking that this apparent supineness on the part of the Government at home is a deep policy after all. They perhaps mean to let the Radical party have their full swing until by their overbearing triumph, their reckless tampering with all our old institutions, their favouring of the French rebels, and their undisguised democratic policy, they have disgusted all the moderate and British population, and then perhaps they hope to be better supported in re-establishing something like a constitutional form of government. If such is their meaning I doubt its wisdom, though the present ministry have already excited plenty of that disgust; but things were, to begin with, in a very satisfactory state when they sent out that old woman Bagot. If they mean things to continue as they have gone on for the last year or two they may as well give up Canada at once. However, we will hope for the best. The Governor and his ministry have at last split, though upon what point we do not as yet know in this remote corner of the world, and as the elections will soon be coming on I hope and believe that the people, of Upper Canada at least, will show them that they mean to be governed on British principles. I must stop to catch the post.

9 At this time, Lord Russell was secretary for the colonies. He served as Prime Minister of Great Britain from 1846 to 1852.

Recto Running Head 373

Notes and Letters, 1844–1845

Notes on Letters Written during 1844 [Editorial note (EP, HHL): In February Anne Langton paid a visit to the Beehive to officiate as bridesmaid at Caroline Dunsford’s marriage to Mr. Boyd, and remained there a couple of days after it, her mother and aunt, she says, rather enjoying the novelty of being left to themselves. Some efforts were made to get rid of the wolves which haunted the clearings this winter. [...] There were many changes among the old original settlers at this time, either by their abandoning their farms in despair of making them lucrative, and taking to other occupations, or by leaving the country altogether. The immediate neighbourhood of Blythe was somewhat deserted this year. The Wallises and Dennistouns were living at Peterboro, Mr. Dundas had obtained an appointment from the Hudson’s Bay Company, and others were on the move. Mr. Need went to England at last, after much indecision, and was the bearer of [Anne Langton’s] chair.1 There was much complaint about the mismanagement of the post-office department. Letters had been frequently lost owing to incapable and unreliable postmasters. This state of things was particularly felt at Blythe, owing to the anxiety about the health of the brother in England, who had gone early in the year to Italy for a few months. The letters from the Continent were especially interesting to Anne recalling, as they did, recollections of their sojourn there in their young days, when her brother John, now ‘careworn and bald,’ was Jean le petit espiègle.2]

1 H.H. Langton ends this sentence at ‘much indecision.’ ‘The chair’ is the same one that Anne Langton had been working on for several years for William and Margaret. 2 EP adds from ‘when her brother … espiègle.’

374 Notes and Letters, 1844–1845

[Editorial note (EP): The arrival of the marble bust of my grandfather was acknowledged.] [Editorial note (EP, HHL): Towards the end of the year ague attacks were frequent, and more or less acute. A sufferer describes the mysterious illness as sudden and unaccountable. One day he would be perfectly delirious, with fever, acute headache, pain in the back and in all the limbs, the next, going about his work apparently quite well, after an attack of violent perspiration. The next day again, he would be almost unconscious of what was passing around him. Recovery was usually quick, and the symptoms of ‘shaking,’ supposed to be an invariable accompaniment, by no means so.] [Editorial note (EP): The following gives a vivid picture of backwoods’ life, and for this reason [is] worth notice. Apologising for the trouble given to his brother in forwarding money to intending emigrants from their relations, already in the colony, my uncle writes:] I am afraid that our neighbours are a great plague to you. I know they are to me. When it is known that I am going to Peterboro you would be astonished at the levées which I hold. One wants a pound of tea, another two yards of flannel, a third a pair of shoes, with some incomprehensible peculiarity about the instep. The tea is not to be of the same kind as one of the two dozen different parcels which I brought out five months ago. I am to get a reduction on the flannel, because the calico I brought last spring was of bad quality. One man wants a slate pencil, for which he duly deposits a halfpenny, and another gives seven-pence halfpenny on account of his pound of tobacco; but the shoes, the flannel, the axe, and the sugar-kettle are sure to be on ‘tick.’ [...] [Editorial note (EP): My uncle was applied to on all occasions as the handy man, who could do anything, from making a boat to piecing on successfully a chopped-off finger.] Extract from a letter from Anne Langton, Peterboro, 10 January 1845 I came down to stand godmother to Mr. Wallis’s little boy, Henry Alexander. The ceremony took place yesterday. We had a sleigh-drive in the afternoon. The day was beautiful, and I scarcely think that in Madeira you

Notes on Letters, 1845 375

would be enjoying a milder air, and certainly not a brighter sun.3 My time has been fully occupied with shopping and driving – very pleasantly, but I shall be very happy to get home again. I am amused by the needless pity bestowed upon us by the people here, who evidently think the seclusion of the woods something very dreadful. We had a gay and busy Christmas – contrary to expectations – and a large party on Christmas Day. Mr. Need brought a young friend. I went with some of the party to the Beehive, where the New Year was brought in with singing and dancing.4 The old ladies have kept very well during my absence, and I am no worse for the unusual excitement, except that I take back a little cold, which will make my dear mother shake her head as if I had done something very wrong indeed, and was not fit to be trusted out of her sight. Notes on Letters written during 1845 [Editorial note (EP, HHL): In a letter of February 17, John announces his engagement to Miss Lydia Dunsford.] [Editorial note (EP): Early in the year, in March, my grandmother had another very serious attack of illness, of the same nature as the previous one, with much fever and prostration of strength.5 The amount of calomel ordered by the Peterboro doctor alarmed her faithful attendants. A less [sic] quantity was thought desirable, and she did not suffer from the effects in the same way. In April my grandmother began to mend, and throughout the illness her mind was quite clear, but the amendment was broken by relapses. Aunt Alice was also more or less of an invalid.] [Editorial note (EP, HHL): The marriage [of John Langton and Lydia Dunsford] took place on May 8 – a quiet family wedding – the brothers of the bride rowing the newly-married couple from the Beehive up to Blythe. Aunt Alice had been hoping that the wedding would be fixed for the 27th – the anniversary of the marriage of her father and mother, just one hundred years before, in 1745, but it was not found convenient. Mr. and Mrs. Dunsford had 3 Original notation (EP, reproduced in HHL): ‘William Langton was, with his wife and a daughter, spending the winter in Madeira for his health.’ 4 Recovered material (EP): ‘I went with ... her sight.’ 5 Original editorial note, recovered material (EP): ‘Early in the year ... an invalid.’

376 Notes and Letters, 1844–1845

lately moved to Peterboro, leaving the eldest son, James, in possession of the Beehive, with a sister. The society on Sturgeon Lake was at the time greatly reduced – Mr. James Dunsford and Mr. Boyd alone remaining. The Hamiltons and others were all dispersed.] [Editorial note (EP): My uncle and his wife, however, had no intention of deserting the place.6 Lumberers were at this time moving further back, and their neighbourhood promised to be good for the sale of farm produce. In July the cold, unkindly weather is remarked, which was a disadvantage for garden and farm, but spared them the mosquitos. The weather was hot again in August, but all through the summer was variable. The family entertained a few visitors during the summer, but the health of the two old ladies necessitated quiet, and caused my Aunt Anne much anxiety. The domestic difficulties were still pressing, and their old servant, Mary Scarry, was called in to help towards the end of the year. […]]

6 Recovered material (EP): ‘My uncle and ... only water to drink.’

Recto Running Head 377

Journals, Letters, and Notes, 1846–1847

From the journal of Anne Langton, 1–30 April 1846 I am perhaps going to give you another journal after the fashion of the old ones. I say perhaps, because, though actual making a commencement, I have strong misgivings as to the events of the month furnishing a satisfactory result. I stopped my journals before because they were becoming commonplace, and I have little expectation that these will be otherwise. To begin then. Thursday, April 2. There is certainly no novelty in the opening of the month, for it has found me at the old employment of candle-making. The increased facility of John’s machine made me think that it would be profitable to manufacture on a larger scale instead of merely using up our own tallow, or an occasional cake purchased from a neighbour. So John brought me up 54 lbs. of tallow, and I was pleased this morning after two days’ work to weigh up 49 lbs. of candles, having 5¼ lbs. of tallow left. This business may account for my beginning my journal on the second, instead of the first, of the month. This morning I made my first round of the garden to see what signs of life appeared there. Tulips and hyacinths are above ground in most places, and if this weather continues, the garden will be ready for me before I am ready for the garden. Friday, April 3. Rather an unsettled and busy day. Both the servants went to the Falls, and what with helping them on in the morning, and supplying their place in the afternoon, I was pretty well occupied. I could not help thinking how soon one unlearns a good lesson. Considering how often we have been

378 Journals, Letters, and Notes, 1846–1847

without servants, as much as for five weeks at once, I thought a wondrous deal about baking bread and getting tea ready. It is to be hoped one would learn the good lesson again pretty easily if occasion required. My mother is very indifferent this evening.1 She has had a bad cough these last few days, and to-night is gone to bed very feverish. The cough sounds almost like whooping-cough, and shakes her sadly. Aunt Alice has a cold, at least her breathing is very indifferent. Saturday, April 4. My mother still very poorly, and under the effects of calomel. Aunt Alice pretty well again, I quietly proceeding with my needlework upstairs. The work [for another bazaar] progresses, and I think I have nearly completed the share I intend to take, for spring brings a multitude of other cares with it. John’s favourite cat is ill, and I have been afraid that she is going to die, as misfortunes never come alone, and last week we lost both our pet dogs. It was a day of great lamentation when poor little ‘Nettle’s’ existence was terminated, but it was best that it should be so. A mad dog had chosen to come and die at our door one night. Both the dogs had at least had the opportunity of coming in contact with it, so they were closely watched, and suspicious symptoms showing themselves in one, John thought it best to destroy both. It cost him a sore struggle to part with his devoted little favourite, and he spared us the pain of sharing it, only telling us when the deed was done. The other dog was a beautiful terrier, but a commoner character among dogs, and not such an old established friend of the house as poor old ‘Nettle.’ Old she was getting, and this is one comfort. Hitherto she had had as happy a life as any little dog could have, and death came upon her unawares in the midst of happiness and enjoyment. Sunday, April 5. An anxious day, my mother still feverish, very weak, and languid, and at night has difficulty in expressing herself, and occasional rambling of the mind, denoting still increasing fever. Mr. James Dunsford came in the evening, and stayed the night. Monday, April 6. My mother a little better to-day, being relieved by sleep and perspiration, and well enough to take an interest in the day, and be anxious for rather a better

1 Recovered material (EP): ‘My mother ... stayed the night.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–30 April 1846 379

dinner in honour of John’s birthday. I did my best, therefore, on very small materials. The usual party on this day falls through for lack of numbers, for it is really no compliment to ask people to come over very bad roads, without either good company or a good dinner to offer, and this is the very worst season of the year to provide the latter. At present provisions are at their lowest ebb. We are without fresh meat, the pork is done, for as we overstocked ourselves last year, of course we rather understocked ourselves this year. We have no bacon but what is two years old, and this year’s hams are most indifferent, owing either to impure salt or impure molasses, or some other unknown cause. In general we shine in this article, and we have a small reserve of better ones, which, being the only good thing in the house, we use carefully. Milk and butter will not be plentiful for a month to come, eggs are our chief luxury, and with these we make as much variety as we can. After all, I suppose the scarcity of the season is not regarded so much by anybody except the housekeeper, whose ingenuity is tasked to spread a decent table before the family. Sometimes, on the contrary, we are oppressed by plenty, as, for instance, when we had six sheep killed at once. You will wonder why they are not killed off more by degrees. The fact was that the sheep were fat, and fodder much too scarce to keep them so, and I must say that the last joint of mutton was as good as the first. We had beef, veal, and poultry to dispose of at the same time. I must tell you that Mary weighed up 52 lbs. of nice fresh soap with as much pride as I counted over my candles, and indeed it is a much more satisfactory operation altogether. Soap-boiling approaches nearer to creating than anything I know. You put into your pot the veriest dirt and rubbish, and take out the most useful article. Tuesday, April 7. I need not say more than that this was washing day, a word of most comprehensive meaning, well understood by all householders. My cares belowstairs divided my attention with my cares above-stairs, and these did not diminish.2 My mother is still very feverish, and the expectation and the receipt of the English letters were too exciting for her. We had given her calomel again to-day, though we always do it with fear and trembling. Wednesday and Thursday, April 8 and 9. We gave my mother a little quinine both these days with good effect as to the fever, which no longer returned with the same force; but she is very

2 Recovered material (EP): ‘My cares ... its vitality.’

380 Journals, Letters, and Notes, 1846–1847

weak and uncomfortable, and very weary, and worn out at night. The cough is most harassing at times. She has been very much interested with the proceedings in India, but she is not able to amuse herself with reading the papers, as her eyes partake of the general weakness of her frame.3 She has now pain in her face and head, which I fear we must attribute to the two doses of calomel, but I do not apprehend anything approaching to salivation. Friday, April 10 (Good Friday). A black, raw day, sometimes snowing, sometimes raining. The early part of the week was almost like summer. On John’s birthday we dined with open windows, but we have had severe frost since. I am watching with anxiety a plant of lavender, my only remaining one. Last winter those out of doors died, so I took all into the house but one this winter. They had done well within doors before, but now they have sickened and died in the house. The one left is my sole hope, and I can say but little for its vitality. We sometimes attempt to keep more plants in the house than we have good light for, nor can we secure for them an even temperature. My mother’s rose-trees flourish better than anything else. I counted twenty-five buds and flowers in the drawing-room windows this morning. Saturday, April 11. My mother had another feverish night, but appears nevertheless somewhat better this evening.4 Her cough is bad, and the weather very cold, snowing, and blowing cruelly to-night. Mr. Wickham arrived in the evening, having been three days in travelling up from Peterboro. Yesterday he was nearer home than he is now, but, finding bad ice where he had hoped to cross the lake, he was compelled to go all round by the Falls. As he stays the night here it will be the fourth day before he reaches home. This is just the season when we are the most perfectly quiet, as everybody stays at home that can do so. [...] Sunday, April 12 (Easter Sunday).5 My mother had a better night but is weak and languid. We must not expect her at eighty to rally as quickly as a younger person. She is just now asleep on a small sofa which we got carpenter Taylor to manufacture a little time

3 A war was being waged between the colonial British forces in India and the Sikhs. 4 Recovered material (EP): ‘My mother ... cruelly to-night.’ 5 Recovered material (EP): ‘Sunday ... back in England.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–30 April 1846 381

since, and which she finds a great comfort in her own room. The cover for it she made, with a little assistance from Aunt Alice, entirely herself, and it would do credit to any upholsterer. Monday, April 13. My mother, I think, more decidedly improves, though she has abundant sources of discomfort from cold and weakness. The weather continues severe, and she is very sensitive to the cold, and thought she had never been so thoroughly starved as to-day. This little return to winter in some respects suits me, for as I could neither attack the garden or the spring cleaning at present, it is as well not to have the temptation. I pity the poor hyacinths, which must wish themselves back in England. Tuesday, April 14. The people are beginning to come round with their [maple] sugar to sell, all wanting to get fivepence a pound for it, whereas fourpence has been the regular price the last year or two. I bought some today for fourpence halfpenny, and was amused with the gracious, flattering manner in which the man came down in his price, saying, ‘Well, I would not for a halfpenny give the sugar to anybody else if you wanted it.’ The sugar-making season generally brings us in some of our smaller debts. At present we have more than £80 owing to us, from loans and other things. Amongst these debts is the fortune of the little girl whose father was drowned in the regatta, and which has hitherto all come out of our pocket. This requires explanation, and the circumstances are illustrative of the state of things in this country. The collection was set on foot by Mr. Rubridge, and he in the first place received the money and the contents of the prize purse. A year or more passing without anything being heard of it, John, feeling that he had no more business than any other person to make an enquiry, told Jordan, the grandfather of the child, to write him a note requesting him to enquire about it, which note became his authority for doing so. Mr. Rubridge, on being asked, thought he had paid the money to Mr. Langton, but on further tasking his memory discovered that it was to Mr. Kirkpatrick. The lawyer present on the occasion, on application to this gentleman, found that at first he remembered nothing at all about it, but finally it was distinctly recalled to his recollection that he had received the money, but how much neither he nor anybody else could tell. To find out the sum was difficult; the subscription list was forthcoming, but everybody knew that it was quite common for names of persons to be put down who never paid. This was

382 Journals, Letters, and Notes, 1846–1847

therefore no guide. Finally, Mr. Kirkpatrick agreed to consider it twenty-five pounds, and paid it by making over to John and Mr. Wallis, as trustees, two debts due to himself. Meanwhile John met with a single bank share, which is not often to be obtained, and he purchased it for the child, and we remained the creditors. How long we shall continue creditors remains to be seen. John succeeded in screwing ten dollars the other day out of one of the people, which is the first we have seen of the money owing. Wednesday, April 15.6 Greetings to Anna Margaret on the entrance into her tenth year! How time flies! It seems but the other day since I held her, a wee little baby, in my arms at church. It is to-day more like Christmas than Easter. Thursday, April 16. My mother complains of an acute pain in one side, connected with her breathing, the consequence probably of this very severe cold. I am very busy upstairs [caring for the invalids], and John and Lydia may almost fancy they have the house to themselves. John put a young horse into harness for the first time, and he went to work as if he had been at it the whole of his life. We watched him dragging alongside the old one, and there was not a bit of difference. All the domestic animals seem tamer in this country than at home. It may be on account of the long winters when they are kept close about the place. Friday, April 17. You [William] have been duly thought of and talked of already, and there are some little cakes in readiness to accompany the glass of wine to-night in which your health will be drunk.7 I daresay, with your family growing up around you, you feel much older than I do. I observed that it seemed only the other day since Anna Margaret was born; but there are other periods in my life which seem even more remote than they really are, and when I look back at all the various stages of my existence I wonder that I am not more of an old woman than I am. We had Mr. Fidler here to-day to give us the Sacrament, and my mother came down for the first time. The weather has changed again, and it is almost like summer. My mother likewise honoured us with her company at

6 Recovered material (EP): ‘Wednesday ... part of the lake.’ 7 April 17: William Langton’s birthday.

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–30 April 1846 383

dinner. The pain in her side is better again. We had the luxury of a partridge pie. Mr. Hamilton, who is hunting on the other side of the lake, took advantage of the first open water to bring us a few birds across. Though the water is open here, or rather a little above us, I suppose it will be some days yet before the ice disappears on the main part of the lake. I have been just called down to a little girl, who had brought back some sewing she had done for us, and for whom we feel much interested. Her mother died in her confinement last year, leaving this poor girl of ten years of age with several younger brothers and sisters to take care of. My mother paid for a six months’ nursing-out of the little delicate baby, and it is now a thriving, healthy child. Another woman died under the same circumstances, literally of cold, and the baby was, while in the charge of another woman, found one morning outside the family group in bed, and frozen to death. This was on one of our coldest nights this winter. Mr. William Hamilton and Mr. Beresford came in the afternoon, stayed the night, and assisted in drinking your health.8 Wednesday, April 22. On Saturday I wrote to you and also to Jane Birley, and had no time left for my journal. On Sunday Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Beresford spent the day with us. The ice has all vanished from this part of the lake, and the weather is very beautiful. My mother improves very much, and the energy, the lack of which she complained, has only returned in too great force, for she does more than her strength allows. Yesterday she made preparations for potting and transplanting rose-trees, but tired herself sadly. She has begun to dine with us again. To-day I commenced gardening in good earnest; planted my dahlia roots in boxes, which we must keep about another month in the house for fear of frosts, though such a sweet summer day as this has been makes it hard to believe that any need be apprehended. My dahlia roots remind me of poor little ‘Nettle,’ who, one year when they were all shooting up beautifully, spent a delightfully happy night in rooting them all up and tearing them to pieces! Mr. Hamilton brought us a little fish, a luxury we do not often see, though living amongst lakes. My mother had a visit from her little protegée, the baby before mentioned. It is the first time that she has seen it; the sister, poor child, looked pleased and proud of it.

8 Recovered material (EP): ‘Mr. William Hamilton ... proud of it.’

384 Journals, Letters, and Notes, 1846–1847

Thursday, April 23. I suppose there is a certain pleasure in communicating ill news (which may account for its flying so fast). I could be amused at the eager haste with which our maiden, Susan, reports any calamity to me, coming to my bedside, and rousing me to hear her news. This morning my awakening senses were greeted with, ‘Miss Langton, you know old Lansfield, well! he is drowned.’ Old Lansfield has a young wife and family. At present these tidings are mere report. It was once reported at Peterboro that John was drowned, and when he walked into the town he was stared at as if he had been a ghost. He had left Bobcaygeon in his canoe for Peterboro on a very stormy day, and had been met [by the storm] on his way thither. The wind at length became so strong that he was obliged to put his canoe to shore, in a part of it which made access to Peterboro not easy; so he crossed the woods to another township, where he had an acquaintance, and had to wait there two days before the storm subsided and he could pursue his journey. Meanwhile Mr. Need had gone down to Peterboro, and as John had not been seen or heard of, little doubt of a fatal catastrophe remained in the minds of any of his friends, who were accordingly preparing to seek for his body when he made his appearance. Friday, April 24.9 This morning we had the poor man here who, as I related, had lost both his wife and child from cold. Since his wife died one of the boys had a bad cut with his axe, taking off one toe, and very nearly another. Then a tree fell upon a cow and killed it, and now the eldest child, a girl, has scalded her foot with boiling sap. We had a little bundle of old and new clothing for the family, and the way in which the old man tendered his thanks, such a contrast to the vociferous humbug of the Irish, was touching. He paused, as if at a loss what to say, and then silently held out his hand to each of us. Saturday and Sunday, April 25 and 26. Two perfectly uneventful days, occupations not detailable. My mother is much as usual again, but complains of want of strength and fatigue after any slight exertion. Monday, April 27. The only interesting event today for me was the sight of an old pupil, grown into a man.

9 Recovered material (EP): ‘Friday ... slight exertion.’

Journal of Anne Langton, 1–30 April 1846 385

Wednesday, April 29. Yesterday I spent a good part of the day in gardening, and had to lament the demise of the lavender plant. To-day being wet, we devoted our energies to cutting out work, of which there is plenty of one sort or another before us.10 There is bedding to be overhauled, pillows to fill, mattresses to take to pieces and remake, and a new one to manufacture. I well remember the last time we had this work to do. We were in the midst of hair and wool when our only servant fell ill, and besides the business on hand, and no assistance except that of a little girl, who was helping to pull the wool, we had the invalid to nurse and sit up with. It was a right busy time. Thursday, April 30. You would have been surprised to see my mother this morning, lately so ill and so weak, and complaining of want of energy. I had set about some storeroom tidying, and she was determined to give me her assistance. Literally she never sat down from breakfast till dinner. Aunt Alice shakes her head at me when she does [things] in this way, but I have it not in my power to prevent her, and can only hope she will not suffer. This day brings the somewhat uninteresting month to an end. [Editorial note (EP): In May John took his wife to Peterborough, where her parents were now living, and where, early in July, their first child, a daughter, was born.11 The child only survived a fortnight. During their absence began the terrible visitation of ague and fever, which was long remembered in the Lake district. New forest settlements are all subject to such visitations at a certain period of their history. The miasma is generated from decaying vegetation. When the forest is cleared to a certain extent, and sunshine is let in upon a sufficiently large tract of country, then the evaporation, which is comparatively harmless while under the shadow of its own woods, becomes baneful. Time only, with the increase of the area of cultivation, bringing purer air, can remedy the evil, and render the country again healthy. In the case of the district round Sturgeon Lake, the evil was made worse by the fact that the waters of the lake had been raised by the construction of a dam and locks at Bobcaygeon. A great deal of land near the lake shores was submerged,

10 H.H. Langton has turned around the awkward sentence construction found in Philips. The latter has: ‘Being wet to-day, we devoted ... ’ 11 Recovered material (EP): ‘ ... where her parents ... a fortnight.’

386 Journals, Letters, and Notes, 1846–1847

so that in dry seasons, when the water was low, there was an immense amount of new decaying matter exposed to the sun. Two seasons of this state of things resulted in a visitation of ague intensified into fever. Of the Blythe party, Anne was first taken ill, then her mother on her eightieth birthday, July 25th. Already in feeble health, she succumbed to the fever, and died on August 1. Their old servant, Mary Scarry, who was then with them, was sent for across the lake to her mother, who died after a few days illness.12 They were left with only a girl of sixteen to help them, and she was off and on ill with ague. John had, of course, returned to Blythe on hearing of his mother’s illness. The harvest was coming on, and two friends came from Camerons Lake to assist him in getting it in, but before long all farm work had to be abandoned, all the men and their families being prostrated with either ague or fever. The following letter, dated September 17 and 19, gives a vivid picture of that time of trial and difficulty.] Extracts from a letter from Anne Langton, dated 17 September 1846 I am sorry to report that both Aunt Alice and I have the ague. My aunt has been very weak and ill the last few days, and I have apprehended something of this sort. It will be very trying to her, with the small amount of strength she has wherewith to combat disease. Yesterday we were both in our beds in a miserable state, and as we neither of us have thrown off the fever sufficiently to venture upon quinine, we must anticipate a repetition of the suffering to-morrow. It is more genuine ague with me this time than last.13 On my well days I can go about my accustomed duties, but between times can do nothing. It is bad for us to fall ill together, but it would have been still more unfortunate had it happened last week, for our little maiden had the ague then. Mr. Hamilton was here, too, and we had Mr. Dennistoun and a gentleman from Cobourg staying the night.14 We have still many new cases, and another death in our neighbourhood, that of an elderly person, whose illness in its nature and duration seemed very similar to that of my dear mother. John’s man Henry’s case was pretty severe, but he is now mending very nicely. The people generally look something like the poor wretches that thronged about us at Paestum – William will remember them, and I daresay you saw something of it in the fever districts in Italy. They say that there

12 Recovered material (EP): ‘Their old ... with ague.’ 13 Recovered material (EP): ‘Yesterday we were ... can do nothing.’ 14 Recovered material (EP): ‘Mr. Hamilton ... dear mother.’

Letter from Anne Langton, 17 September 1846 387

has not been such a year as this since the year 1827, when it was still worse. There have been more deaths on the other side of the lake. In some respects we are better off from having four families habitually provided with some medicines. In some settlements there is nobody near to apply to, and the poor creatures have nothing to do but to lie down, and let the fever take its course. One widow woman, living alone, was found to have been dead two or three days by the neighbours. There is no end to melancholy details.15 We have another fever case just now. A man that John engaged just two days since, when Henry fell ill. The other man working here took himself off for fear of infection. John had engaged this man to do his ploughing, and the first thing he had to do was to take the horses a two days’ journey to get shod, one blacksmith being laid up. Now he has just come home with the ague. Whole families are down with ague or fever, and perhaps no one to look after them but a neighbour, a mile away, herself in a state of ague. One great lamentation among the sick has been the difficulty of getting any washing done. John was called upon last week to read the funeral service, as Mr. Fidler had gone away for change of air. A great part of this month we have had extremely hot weather. However, I am thankful to say that the mosquitoes are all over. They have been a dreadful plague this summer. I never knew them so numerous. Fleas have now taken their place, which abound in the same extraordinary degree.16 Complaints of this inelegant misery come from other parts of the country. It is misery likely to be much increased where people are too sick to do any scrubbing and cleaning. Up to this time we have not fallen into arrears in this essential comfort, but I dread it every day, for the house has too many conveniences not to have one great inconvenience – of requiring a great deal of cleaning. Saturday, September 19. Yesterday was just such a day as we had to expect – John convalescent, Aunt Alice a case of fever. She was in a distressing state of restless uneasiness the whole day, but she is decidedly better to-day, and her strength keeps up much better than I expected, considering her general debility. John went down to try to get our former servant, Margaret, but she had all her children ill. There is not a person anywhere around whom it is possible to get. I took quinine to-day, but fear that it will not prevent to-morrow’s 15 Recovered material (EP): ‘There is ... fell ill.’ 16 Recovered material (EP): ‘Fleas ... general debility.’

388 Journals, Letters, and Notes, 1846–1847

visitation. As long as I am up I can look after Aunt Alice, and our young servant manages some way or other, but when I am down it is difficult for a girl of sixteen to do the churning, baking, washing, etc., and make tea and gruel every hour of the day. [...] John’s new man is a decided case of fever, so here we have him to nurse for five or six weeks, I daresay. But what is worse Henry’s wife, Angel Brandon, is beginning to be ill herself. She thinks it will only prove to be ague. All her children are ill, Henry but just out of fever, as weak as possible, and a sister of his also ill in the house.17 The boy Billy keeps well so far. Every hour brings something fresh, now my girl is ill again. John had intended to go over the lake to try to get Mary Scarry, but we hear that she is in the fever. Now the last woman about the place is on the sick list, and it is much more difficult to let women’s work stand still than men’s work. John had made up his mind that nothing could be done on the farm, but no bread! no butter! no clean clothes! – this is another matter. [Editorial note (EP): My uncle adds:] Although all this sounds very dreadful, it is astonishing how we keep our spirits. There is something absurd in the very inconveniences which we are exposed to. The idea of Billy and me having to cook, milk the cows, etc., and attend upon two men, five women, and three children, all more or less ill of ague and fever, has a good deal of the ludicrous in it.18 The thing that 17 Recovered material (EP): ‘All her children ... in the fever.’ 18 Writing during this crisis, John Langton appears less despairing than his sister. Thirty-three years later he gives a more realistic account in a footnote to Anne’s narrative of these events in her memoir: Note by J.L.: With regard to the fever year, my sister has naturally spoken of our own family losses and our internal arrangements, but it was a terrible time for the whole neighbourhood. I think that Colclough, Bill Hamilton and I were the only people in the two townships [Fenelon and Verulam] who escaped the fever when it was at its worst ... We had a terrible time of it, not only visiting the sick, but helping the poor debilitated creatures to get in their harvests. The whole of my establishment was laid up, and when I had with some difficulty hired a young man from a little distance to help, after a day or two, he was laid up also. In Henry Brandon’s house they brought the beds and laid them in a row on the floor, so as to be better able to help each other, and there the whole family lay, with one of the young children, who was not quite so bad as the others, going round handing them glasses of water, etc.. Angel Brandon was especially distressed about the cows, as she had no confidence in my milking, but when she got better she complimented me on my success. We had a great many deaths, principally the very old and the very young, and sometimes we had some difficulty in finding men strong enough to carry the coffins up to the churchyard. (Story, 103)

Note, 1847 389

now most alarms me is that I only know in this neighbourhood three men who would be able to take a boat down to Peterboro, and if I get ill, and Lydia has to be sent for to nurse us all, what am I to do if those three last hopes fall ill too! We will hope for better times. September to November 1846 [Editorial note (EP): Times did mend finally, but the troubles were not over.] [Editorial note (EP, HHL): The day after this letter was concluded – on September 20 – Miss Currer’s strength gave way suddenly, and she died, just six [seven] weeks after her sister. She was laid to rest in Fenelon churchyard, on September 22,19 and a few days later, Anne left Blythe for the very necessary change of air and scene. She went to Peterboro, where, until the middle of October, she was the guest of her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Wallis. My uncle followed her later, when the invalids about the place were sufficiently recovered to allow of his leaving them, and in October they all returned to Blythe.] Note, 1847 [Editorial note (EP, HHL): In June, 1847 [John, Lydia and Anne] all sailed for England, John and his wife to return after a short stay of three weeks, my aunt to remain for nearly three years.] [Editorial note (EP): The readers of this narrative will remember that my Aunt Anne then returned to make her home with her brother John in Canada, but undertook frequent voyages to England for visits of varying length. Her last visit was in June [May 20] 1880, returning [to Canada] the following September. My aunt Anne Langton died at Toronto on May 10, 1893.21

19 John Langton read the service at his aunt’s funeral, the minister being ill. 20 H.H. Langton, notes for 1880, in ‘Diary,’ vol. 1, 1895–1904 [sic], unpag Langton (John) Family, B 65-0014/001 (05), UTARMS. 21 H.H. Langton retains only the first sentence of Philips’s notation, but adds an epilogue to his edition.

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Recto Running Head 391

Afterword

Following her return to Canada in 1850, Anne Langton spent the second half of her life as a much-valued member of her brother John’s household. She devoted herself to helping Lydia and John raise their growing family. Meanwhile, in an urgent effort to increase the family’s income, John Langton embarked on an entrepreneurial venture with Mossom Boyd and James Dunsford of Bobcaygeon: the trio established a lumbering company, harvesting trees in the Sturgeon Lake area and rafting them down, via the connecting string of lakes and rivers, for sale at Quebec.1 At this time, John Langton continued his participation in local politics, including a term as reeve of Verulam Township in 1850.2 The heavy workload of farming, political work, and lumbering business interests, as well as increasing family responsibilities, took their toll, and John fell seriously ill with persistent throat infections, eventually seeking medical attention in New York. Lydia accompanied him, so Anne took full charge of the household and children during their prolonged absence, thus beginning a new phase in her life pattern, one that would be repeated on many occasions over decades. During the busiest of these times, she appears to have produced little art, but when times were less hectic, she returned to her sketchbooks to indulge her passion. Once John’s physical recovery was achieved, he left business. Soon afterwards, he was approached to enter politics on a wider scale. This time he allowed his name to go forward, and in 1851 was elected to the Legislative Assembly of the province as member for Peterborough and District.3 In 1852 the family moved to Peterborough. There, John purchased flour mills in the town, naming them Blythe Mills – the last property to which the family gave the name Blythe.4 At Peterborough, two more children were born; there were now three sons and two daughters. Undaunted by increased domestic com-

392 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

mitments, Anne Langton actively pursued community involvement. She became organist at St John’s Anglican Church for a while, led the church choir, and, with assistance from an emigré German professor, got up a series of ‘Patriotic Concerts’ to aid relief efforts for Crimean War victims half a world away. Meanwhile, the family home acted as an informal birthing centre for genteel friends from the backwoods area who wished to be near medical assistance during and immediately after childbirth. Lydia and Anne acted as midwives and cared for the mothers and newborns. Despite these responsibilities, Anne continued to find time to produce her art. When her young niece, Ellen Josephine Langton, William Langton’s second daughter, arrived for a Canadian visit, she and Anne embarked on a tour of sights, including Niagara. There Anne worked a remarkably fresh and lively set of watercolour views of the falls, in marked contrast to her hesitant early ones of 1837.5 While living in Peterborough, Anne produced a series of sketches of that area. Her art work of this period reflects a new development: having executed landscape sketches mostly in graphite, pen and ink, or monochromatic watercolour during her years in the Fenelon/Bobcaygeon area, she now broadened her palette to tonal variations in blues, browns, greys, and creams and began to use a scraping-out technique to emphasize varying textures/effects, as in rough tree bark, or shimmering reflections in water. In the mid-1850s, when economic decline resulted from the Crimean Wars, John gave up his mills endeavour. In a sense, family history was repeating itself: like Blythe Hall in 1815, Blythe Farm had been rented out so that the family could eventually return there to live. But, as with Blythe Hall, the Langtons never did return to live at their much-loved farm, nor anywhere else in the Fenelon area. Instead, fate intervened in the form of a letter from the Hon. John A. Macdonald (then attorney-general for Canada West, later the first prime minister of the Dominion of Canada).6 Having observed John Langton’s financial acumen in debates in the assembly, Macdonald, in February 1855, wrote inviting him to accept the position of auditor general, reporting independently to the government.7 So John’s short political career came to an end, and his long, distinguished career as a dedicated, reform-minded public servant began. Though her brother’s role widened in scope and public significance, Anne’s circle of influence remained domestic and local. Nevertheless, her work enabled her brother to advance in his career and devote himself more fully to matters of provincial and, later, national import. The seat of government moved quadrennially, and the Langtons moved with it. In 1856, they settled in Toronto, where John took on another significant role, that of vice-chancellor of the newly created University of Toronto.

Afterword 393

He worked assiduously on the building committee for the design and erection of University College.8 His portrait as vice-chancellor of the university (by Sir Edmund Wyly Grier) still hangs in Croft Chapter House at the college today. Anne, of course, was occupied mostly with family concerns – a sixth child (a son) arrived in 1858 – but she, John, and Lydia found time to enjoy the ‘very agreeable society’ of academics, politicians, and civil servants.9 In 1859, anticipating another government relocation, the Langtons moved to Quebec City, where they found more new scenes for the painter’s eye and more public activities for John. Late in 1860, Anne pursued a new interest: she left for an extended visit to Britain, chaperoning her Canadian niece Ellen, who was to attend Miss Lowe’s School for Young Ladies near London, at the expense of her Uncle William. Anne’s home base during these years was William’s elegant country estate, Litchford Hall, some five miles outside Manchester, reflective of her earlier childhood home.10 She resumed her preemigration way of life, adopting a pattern she would repeat on later extended visits: visiting relatives and friends in various parts of the British Isles, sketching as she went. Her artwork took on another new dimension as she executed country and lakeside views in full watercolour in renowned areas such as the Lake District – made famous by poets and artists such as Gray, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Girtin, Constable, and Turner – and in picturesque areas of Wales, Ireland, and Yorkshire, as well as views in, or near, coastal tourist venues such as Torquay. She filled up sketchbook after sketchbook during her tours of 1860–2, 1868–70, and 1873–5, and her final visit in 1880.11 Her 1860 visit to the Lake District seems to have been the initial catalyst for this late flowering. She stayed with her cousin Skinner Langton, who resided in the heart of the district on the shores of Derwentwater. Langton’s palette widens further in these years, as does her style: her handling of paint becomes looser, less conventional, even gestural on occasion (as in Gordale), and her overall presentation is fresher, being less tied to the earlier, strict interpretation of picturesque and/or topographical tradition. She never entirely relinquishes the earlier mode, but its traditional hues of duller browns, greys, and monochromatic watercolour tones largely gives way to lighter, brighter shades and more saturated hues. No doubt her viewing of art exhibitions in major centres, particularly Manchester and London, increased her exposure to new painting theories, styles, and practices. On her return to Canada in 1862, she took her elder nieces and nephews to Dalhousie, New Brunswick, for a two-month vacation and there painted a delightful series of watercolour landscapes on a miniature scale.12 Another son (and last child), Hugh Hornby Langton, was born to Lydia and John that

394 A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada

same year. Quebec City was still home base for Anne. There, at some point over the next two years, she executed her most ambitious work, a panoramic view of Quebec City and its environs, viewed from Point Lévis (across the St Lawrence River), where the family rented a cottage each summer. Worked in sections, this piece measures 18.4 centimetres in height by some 223 centimetres in width. Langton worked several versions of it.13 Still faithful, in this instance, to the topographical tradition (one in which she was by now superbly confident), it is, however, worked in a fuller watercolour tonal range than most of her previous picturesque Canadian scenes. In 1865, after a year of construction delays, the government finally moved into the permanent Parliament Buildings at Ottawa. The Langtons uprooted themselves yet again, and Anne tellingly wrote, ‘We bought a piece of land for a garden and hoped we were settled for good.’14 In 1867, with political confederation, John Langton was appointed the first auditor-general for the Dominion of Canada. He and Lydia were in the party that accompanied Macdonald and other politicians to London to complete formal negotiations for Confederation. In 1868 Anne accompanied her younger Canadian niece, Agnes, to England so that she, too, could attend Miss Lowe’s School. They returned to Canada in 1870, Anne having followed her usual pattern of travels, viewing more exhibitions in London with William and sketching some of her most accomplished views yet, in Wales, England, and Ireland.15 While residing in Ottawa, Anne executed several series of a companion set of views in and around the capital. Surprisingly, while she chose to execute her sketchbook renderings in full watercolour, she returned to monochromatic watercolour for the most fully polished, single-sheet versions.16 The set was quite possibly intended as souvenir pieces for the family to carry with them when they left the capital to retire permanently in Toronto. For it was in Toronto that they chose to reside during their final years, following John’s retirement from office in 1878 after decades of dedicated service to his country. 17 Hugh Hornby Langton later penned a tribute to his aunt’s later life, writing in the final lines of the epilogue to his edition of A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada: ‘But the real purpose of her later life was to be useful to her brother’s family and her success was marked, for to all of them she seemed a second mother, ever interested, helpful, and devoted.’18 Sometime in early 1873 Anne, then nearly sixty-nine years old, became gravely ill. She was gently nursed back to health by those whom she had tended so well over many years. A few months later, Frances, William and Margaret’s youngest daughter, arrived for a Canadian visit, and she and Anne eagerly set off on a tour. Anne

Afterword 395

was well-versed in the roles of guide and chaperone. A pair of lively and magnificent, though small scale, full watercolour renderings of Niagara Falls appears to date from this tour.19 Tragically, Frances was taken seriously ill in Montreal and, despite her aunt’s tireless nursing, died there at twenty-five years of age.20 For respite, Anne set off for another trip to England. Her base was again William and Margaret’s home, this time at Hopefield, their smaller, though still impressive, country residence at Eccles, near Manchester, of which Anne executed fine portraits.21 In 1874 Jack, the sixth child of John and Lydia, joined her in England, and Anne took him to London and other areas of interest. Seventy years old, she was as indefatigable and eager a traveller as ever, thirsty to renew acquaintance with favourite haunts but also willing to take in new destinations, all the while continuing to sketch – and duly keeping track of expenses.22 Noting how many places they had visited in one particularly crammed week, she remarked, ‘Blessings on the railways! what magic this would appear to our grandfathers!!!’ She added, with economy in mind as usual, ‘I was never afraid of going second class.23 In Toronto by the late 1870s, the Langtons settled in Yorkville, at 23 Prince Arthur Avenue, which, coincidentally, is now the headquarters of the Women’s Art Association of Canada. There, Anne typically devoted her first year of retirement to ‘work’ – writing a family memoir at the request of both her Canadian and English nieces and nephews. She completed the manuscript within a year and took a copy of it to her family in England in 1880 on her final visit to her homeland, accompanied this time by her youngest Canadian nephew, Hugh Hornby Langton. This trip was a short one by her standards, lasting only six months. The following year, her English nieces and nephews surprised her by producing a printed version of the memoir, prepared privately for circulation to family and close friends. More candid in some of her remarks in this narrative than in her journals and letters of the pioneering years, she nevertheless mostly remains a diffident ‘female’ author, mindful of the effect of her writing on her audience and of her and her family’s reputation, remaining ‘Loyal au Mort’ in her steadfast allegiance to the honour of her family and both her countries.24 Anne’s last years were passed, as to be expected, in quiet retreat. She spent little time socializing, as her deafness had become pronounced.25 She continued to write letters and sketch. John wrote to Thomas Need in 1881: ‘My sister stands her years wonderfully and is always at work upon something – drawing, fancy work and innumerable letters.’26 A month later, he writes, again to Need: ‘[My own family] are all very well, including my sister who now in her 82nd. Year is as industrious as ever, painting from morning to

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night.’27 In December 1885 he still writes of his sister as ‘constantly at work – painting or embroidery.’28 Her rambles took her to various parts of Toronto and she worked some fine later views, including University College and the Rosedale ravine.29 For most of her last decade, Langton appears to have given up her sketching forays. Indefatigable as ever in her urge to create, she focused on hand painting delicate pieces of porcelain, often from the renowned Limoges company. Fortunately, a handwritten inventory of her decorative china is extant.30 This item lists the kinds of pieces that she decorated – cups, plates, wall plaques. It also lists their recipients – family members, friends, charitable causes, including church bazaars at Fenelon Falls, Bobcaygeon, Lindsay, Peterborough, and Toronto. Another column indicates the subjects that she worked on china, which ranged from decorative patterns and landscape scenes (including some of her earlier original views) to religious/mythological figures. The list, in her by-then spidery handwriting, ends abruptly six months prior to her death. In 1885, the Langtons relocated for a final time. Their last home, at 123 Beverley Street, was situated, appropriately enough, on what is now part of the grounds of the Art Gallery of Ontario. There, on 10 May 1893, Langton passed away, just six weeks short of her eighty-ninth birthday. On the surface, her life might appear quite ordinary, even constricted, but from its threads, she wove an enduring tapestry of rich fulfilment and meaning.

NOTES 1 See John Langton, Early Days, 201–9. 2 T.H. Martin, Pioneer Gleanings from Verulam, 1887–1867, 11. 3 For details of John Langton’s life, see Wendy Cameron, ‘Langton, John,’ DCB 12: 527–9. He was re-elected in 1854. 4 For details of John Langton’s proprietorship of Blythe Mills, Peterborough, see Anne Langton, Story, 153, 156. 5 See Langton’s sketchbook, Canada, England, Ireland, Jersey, JLff, F 1077-8-1-2, AO. 6 See J.K. Johnson and P.B. Waite, ‘Macdonald, Sir John Alexander,’ DCB 12: 591–612. 7 See John Langton, Early Days, 213–17. 8 On the establishment of the University of Toronto and design and erection of University College, see among others, John Langton, Early Days, 277–97, and Douglas Richardson et al., A Not Unsightly Building, 52–69.

Afterword 397 9 Anne Langton, Story, 161. 10 Ibid. 11 See, especially, Langton’s sketchbooks, JLff, F 1077-8-1-1, -2, -3, -5, -6, -7, -8, -9, AO. 12 See Langton’s loose drawings, JLff, F 1077-9-1-7, -8, -9, -10, AO. 13 Versions of this watercolour are extant in several collections, both public and private. The single complete version located to date is in Ottawa, at Library and Archives Canada. It was presented to the institution by John Langton’s heirs in 1930, LAC, 1990-108x. It is the only version on which landmarks have been indicated – vertically across the top of the work. 14 Anne Langton, Story, 180. 15 See the sketchbooks listed in note 11, above. 16 For the sketchbook versions of this matching set of Ottawa views, see Langton’s sketchbook, Ottawa and England, JLff, F 1077-8-1-9, AO; for the four single sheet versions, see JLff, F 1077-9-1-25, AO. 17 Anne Langton, Story, 202–3. 18 H.H. Langton, ‘Epilogue,’ in Anne Langton, Gentlewoman, 246. The earlier reference, to ‘dear aunt Anne,’ is found on a small piece of paper enclosed with an exquisite miniature landscape (mounted on card) of a coastal scene in North Wales. The inscription reads: ‘Llandudno, from just above Plas Mawr & Penmaenmawr by dear Aunt Anne.’ It is one of Anne Langton’s later pieces, and one of her best, JLff, F 1077-9-1-27, AO. 19 See loose drawings, JLff, F 1077-9-1-9-23, AO. 20 Anne Langton, Story, 190–2. 21 See, for example, JLff, F 1077-9-1-15, AO. William and Margaret had sold Litchford Hall as most of their grown children had moved away. 22 See, for example, the inside front cover of her sketchbook, England, JLff, F 1077-8-1-6, AO. 23 Anne Langton, Story, 193–4. 24 ‘Loyal au Mort’ was the motto on the Langton family coat-of-arms. 25 Anne Langton, Story, 162–3. 26 John Langton, letter to Thomas Need, 6 July 1881, Thomas Need Papers, MS, B, Loose Correspondence, F 258, MU 2186, AO. 27 John Langton, letter to Thomas Need, 25 August 1881, ibid. 28 John Langton, letter to Thomas Need, 3 December 1885, ibid. 29 This late view of University College (1884) hangs in the office of the archivist, University of Toronto Archives. For the view of the Rosedale ravine, see JLff, F 1077-9-1-30, AO. 30 ‘List of Anne Langton’s china,’ 5, Miscellaneous, env. 13, 2, JLff, F 1077, MU 1691, AO.

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Works Cited 409 Nussbaum, Felicity A. The Autobiographical Subject: Gender and Ideology in Eighteenth-Century England. Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989 Nygren, Edward J. James Ward’s Gordale Scar: An Essay in the Sublime. London: Tate Gallery, 1982 O’Brien, Mary. The Journals of Mary O’Brien, 1828–1838. Edited by Audrey Saunders Miller. Toronto: Macmillan, 1968 Olney, James, ‘Autobiography and the Cultural Moment: A Thematic, Historical, and Bibliographical Introduction.’ In Autobiography: Essays Theoretical and Critical, ed. James Olney, 3–27. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1980 – Studies in Autobiography. New York: Oxford University Press, 1988 Pacey, Desmond, with additions by Judith St John. ‘Gatty, Juliana Horatia (Ewing).’ DCB 11 (1982): 333–4 Parker, Rozsika. The Subversive Stitch: Embroidery and the Making of the Feminine. London: Women’s Press, 1984 Parker, Rozsika, and Griselda Pollock. Old Mistresses: Women, Art, and Ideology. New York: Pantheon Books, 1981 Pascal, Roy. Design and Truth in Autobiography. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1960 Patmore, Coventry. Poems by Coventry Patmore. London: G. Bell and Sons, 1921 Peterman, Michael A. ‘Strickland, Catharine Parr (Traill).’ DCB 12 (1990): 995–9 Peters, Diane E. Women in the Visual Arts. Waterloo, ON: Library, Wilfrid Laurier University, 1990 Pettyes, Chris, with the assistance of Hazel Gustow, Ferris Olin, Verna Ritchie. Dictionary of Women Artists: An International Dictionary of Women Artists Born before 1900. Boston: G.K. Hall, 1985 Pickering, Joseph, Emigrant’s Guide: Inquiries of an emigrant: being the narrative of an English farmer, from the year 1824 to 1830; during which he traversed the United States of America and the British province of Canada, with a view to settle as an emigrant ... London: E. Wilson, 1831 Pollock, Griselda. Vision and Difference: Femininity, Feminism and Histories of Art. London: Routledge, 1988 Pollock, Griselda, and Rozsika Parker, eds. Framing Feminism: Art and the Women’s Movements, 1970–85. London and New York: Pandora, 1987 Poovey, Mary. The Proper Lady and the Woman Writer: Ideology as Style in the Works of Mary Wollstonecraft, Mary Shelley, and Jane Austen. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984 Pratt, Mary. Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturalism. London and New York: Routledge, 1992 Price, Sir Uvedale. An Essay on the Picturesque as Compared with the Sublime and the

410 Works Cited Beautiful; and on the use of Studying Pictures, for the Purpose of Improving Real Landscape. London: Printed for J. Robson, 1794; authorized facsimile Ann Arbor, MI, and London: Microfilm International, 1979 – Sir Uvedale Price on the Picturesque: with an essay on the origin of Taste and much original matter by Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, Bart. [including] A Dialogue on the Distinct Characters of the Picturesque and the Beautiful. Edinburgh: Caldwell, Lloyd, and Co.; London: Wm. S. Orr and Co., 1842 Public Archives of Canada. Images of Canada: Documentary Watercolours and Drawings from the Permanent Collection of the Public Archives of Canada. Ottawa: Information Canada, 1972 Raven, Arlene, Cassandra L. Langer, and Joanne Frueh, eds. Feminist Art Criticism: An Anthology New York: Harper Collins, 1988; Ann Arbor, MI, and London: U.M.I. Research Press, 1991 Read, Colin. The Uprising in Western Upper Canada, 1837-8. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1982 Redgrave, Samuel. A Dictionary of Artists of the English School. 1866. Bath: Kingsmead Reprints, 1970 Reid, Dennis. A Concise History of Canadian Painting. 2nd ed. Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1988 – Our Own Country Canada, Being an Account of the Aspirations of the Principal Landscape Artists in Montreal and Toronto, 1860–90. Ottawa: National Gallery of Canada, 1979 Reid, Dennis, and Joan Murray. From the Four Quarters: Native and European Art in Ontario 5000 BC to 1867 AD. Toronto: Art Gallery of Ontario, 1984 Reiter, Peter. ‘Climate Change and Mosquito-Borne Disease.’ Environmental Health Perspectives 109 (March 2001): 141–61 Repton, Humphry. The Art of Landscape Gardening, including His Sketches and Hints on Landscape Gardening Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening. Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, 1907 – The Landscape Gardening and Landscape Architecture of the late Humphry Repton, Esq., Being His Entire Works on the Subject. New Edition by J.C. Loudon, FLS. London: Loudon, Longman and Co.; Edinburgh: A. and C. Black, 1840 – Observations on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening. London: Printed by T. Bensley for J. Taylor at the Architectural Library, 1803 Richardson, Douglas, with J.M. Careless, G.M. Craig, and Peter Heyworth. A Not Unsightly Building: University College and Its History. Oakville, ON: Mosaic Press, 1990 Robinson, Jane, ed. Parrot Pie for Breakfast: An Anthology of Women Pioneers. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999

Works Cited 411 Rogers, Katharine M. The Troublesome Helpmate: A History of Misogyny in Literature. Seattle and London: University of Washington Press, 1966 Roget, J.L. A History of the ‘Old Water-Colour’ Society, Now the Royal Society of Painters in Water-Colours. 2 volumes. London and New York: Longmans, Green and Ward, 1891 Rossi, Filippo. Art Treasures of the Uffizi and Pitti. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1956 Ruskin, John. Modern Painters. 5 volumes. 1843–60. London: André Deutsch, 1989 Ryerson, Egerton. Dr. Ryerson’s Reply to the Recent Pamphlet of Mr. Langton and Dr. Wilson on the University Question. Toronto: ‘Guardian’ Office, 1861 Shackleton, Philip. ‘Beechey, Frances Ann (Hopkins). DCB 14 (1998) 49–50 – The Furniture of Old Ontario. Toronto: Macmillan, 1973 Shadbolt, Doris. The Art of Emily Carr. Toronto: Clarke, Irwin; Vancouver: Douglas and McIntyre, 1979 Shirreff, Patrick. A Tour through North America: Together with a comprehensive view of Canada and the United States. As adapted for agricultural emigration. Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1835 Simcoe, Elizabeth. Mrs. Simcoe’s Diary. Edited by Mary Quayle Innis. Toronto: Macmillan, 1965 Simon, Robin. The Portrait in Britain and America, with a Biographical Dictionary of Portrait Painters, 1680–1914. Boston: G.K. Hall, 1987 Smith, Helen E., and Lisa M. Sullivan. ‘“Now that I know how to manage”: Work and Identity in the Journals of Anne Langton.’ Ontario History 87, no. 3 (1995): 253–69 Smith, Valene. Hosts and Guests: The Anthropology of Tourism. 2nd ed. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1989 Smyth, Richard John Coke. Sketches in the Canadas. London: n.p. [ca 1840] Stacey, Robert. The Hand Holding the Brush: Self-portraits by Canadian Artists. London: London Regional Art Gallery, 1983 – Sir Daniel Wilson (1816–1892): Ambidextrous Polymath. Toronto: University of Toronto Art Centre, 2001 Stainton, Lindsay. British Landscape Watercolours, 1600–1860. London: Published for the Trustees of the British Museum by British Museum Publications, 1985 Starke, Mariana. Information and Directions for Travellers on the Continent. 6th ed. London: John Murray, 1828 – Travels on the Continent. 4th ed. London: John Murray, 1820 Steele, Volney. Bleed, Blister and Purge: A History of Medicine on the American Frontier. Missoula, MT. Mountain Press Publishing, 2005 Stewart, Frances. Our Forest Home, Being Extracts from the Correspondence of the Late

412 Works Cited Frances Stewart. Edited by E.S. Dunlop. Toronto: Presbyterian Printing and Publishers Company, 1889 Strickland, Samuel. Twenty-Seven Years in Canada West. Reprinted, with an introduction by Carl F. Klinck. Edmonton: Hurtig, 1970 Sutton, C.W. ‘William Langton.’ DNB 32 (1892): 132–3 Thomas, Clara. ‘Brownell Murphy, Anna (Jameson).’ DCB 8 (1985): 649–51 – ‘Journeys to Freedom.’ Canadian Literature 51 (Winter 1972): 11–19 – Love and Work Enough: The Life of Anna Jameson. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1978 Thorn, Jordan, C. Handbook of Old Pottery and Porcelain Marks. New York: Tudor Publishing, 1947 Tippett, Maria. By a Lady: Celebrating Three Centuries of Art by Canadian Women. Toronto: Viking Penguin, 1992 Traill, Catharine Parr. The Backwoods of Canada. Reprint, with an introduction by Clara Thomas. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1971 – The Canadian Settler’s Guide. Toronto: Old Countryman Office, 1855, Reprint, with an introduction by Clara Thomas. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1969 Trigger, Bruce, ed. Handbook of North American Indians. Volume 15. Northeast. Washington: Smithsonian Institute, 1978 Urry, John. The Tourist Gaze. 2nd ed. London and Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 2002 Van Kirk, Sylvia. ‘Many Tender Ties’: Women in Fur Trade Society in Western Canada, 1670–1870. Winnipeg: Watson and Dwyer, 1980 Vicinus, Martha. Independent Women: Work and Community for Single Women, 1850–1920. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985 Vickery, Amanda. The Gentleman’s Daughter: Women’s Lives in Georgian England. New Haven, CT, and London: Yale University Press, 1998 Wallis, Hugh M. ‘James Wallis, Founder of Fenelon Falls and Pioneer in the Early Development of Peterborough.’ Ontario History 53, no. 4 (1961): 257–71 Watson Rouslin, Virginia. ‘The Intelligent Woman’s Guide to Pioneering in Canada.’ Dalhousie Review 50 (1976): 319–34 Wehle, Harry B. American Miniatures, 1730–1850. New York: Kennedy Galleries and Da Capo Press, 1970 Weld, Isaac. Travels through the States of North America and the Provinces of Upper and Lower Canada during the years 1795, 1796 and 1797. London: Printed for John Stockdale, 1799 Welter, Barbara. ‘The Cult of True Womanhood: 1820–1860.’ American Quarterly 18 (1966): 151–74 West, Mrs. [Jane]. Letters to a Young Lady, in which the Duties and Character of Women are Considered, Chiefly with a Reference to Prevailing Opinions. 3 vols. London: Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, 1806

Works Cited 413 Williams, Barbara. ‘Anne Langton.’ DCB 12 (1990): 523–7 – Anne Langton: Gentlewoman, Pioneer Settler, and Artist. Online exhibition curated for the Archives of Ontario, Toronto, 2003. Available at www.archives.gov.on.ca – Anne Langton: Pioneer Woman and Artist. Peterborough, ON: Peterborough Historical Society, 1986 – Sketches by Anne Langton: Fenelon Falls, Bobcaygeon and Peterborough, 1837–1852. Catalogue for an exhibition at the Lindsay Gallery, City of Kawartha Lakes, 2–16 July 2004. Williams Deacon’s 1771–1970. Manchester: Printed by McCorquodale and Company, 1971 Williamson, George Charles. Portrait Miniatures. London: ‘The Studio’ Limited, 1910 Willis, N.P. Canadian Scenery. 2 volumes. London: George Virtue, 1842 – Pencillings by the Way. London: George Virtue, 1844 Wilson [Williams], Barbara. ‘Anne Langton.’ In Portraits: Peterborough Area Women Past and Present, edited by Gail Corbett, 54–64. Peterborough, ON: Portraits Group, 1975 – ‘“Strangers in a Strange Land”: Literary Use of Canadian Landscape by Five Genteel Settlers.’ MA thesis, University of Guelph, 1973 Wilson, Mary. A European Journal: Two Sisters Abroad in 1847. Illustrations by Anne Wilson. Edited by Jennifer Simpson. London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 1987 Wilton, Andrew. British Watercolours, 1750–1850. Oxford: Phaidon Press, 1977 Winter, C. ‘The British School of Miniature Portrait Painters.’ Annual lecture on Aspects of Art, Henrietta Hertz Trust of the British Academy, reprinted from the Proceedings of the British Academy (London) vol. 34. Oxford: Published for the British Academy by Geoffrey Cumberledge, Oxford University Press, 1948 Wollstonecraft, Mary. Mary and the Wrongs of Woman. Edited by James Kinsley and Gary Kelly. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980 Woolf, Virginia. A Room of One’s Own. Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books, 1973 – Three Guineas. Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books, 1982 – A Writer’s Diary. Edited by Leonard Woolf. New York: Harcourt, 1973 Wright, Janet. Architecture of the Picturesque in Canada. Ottawa: National Historic Parks and Sites Branch, Parks Canada, Environment Canada, 1984 Wurtele, D.J. ‘Mossom Boyd: Lumber King of the Trent Valley.’ Ontario History 50, no. 4 (1958): 177-89 Yeldham, Charlotte. Women Artists in Nineteenth-Century France and England. 4 volumes. New York and London: Garland Publishing, 1984 Zaremba, Eve. Privilege of Sex. Toronto: Anansi, 1975

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Illustration Credits

Archives of Ontario, John Langton family fonds: Front Cover: Anne Langton, 1833, JLff, F 1077-7-1-0-2; [frontispiece]: Anne Langton, 1840, JLff, F 1077-7-1-0-17; John Langton, ‘Diagram of Part of the Newcastle District’ 1833, Notebook, copied by Thomas Langton, JLff, fonds F 1077-2, MU 1690, env. 9, between pp. 38 & 39; Miss Currer, 1835, JLff, F 1077-7-1-0-1; Mrs. Thomas Langton, c. 1833, JLff, F 10777-1-0-9; Gordale, c. 1875, JLff, F 1077-8-1-8; My Father and John ?1836, JLff, F 10777-1-0-8; William Langton, 1831 (/1833?), JLff, F 1077-7-1-0-10; ‘My Sister-in-law before She Was Married’ 1831, JLff, F 1077-7-1-0-16; John Langton, 1845, JLff, F 1077-7-1-0-4; Mrs. John Langton, 1845, JLff, F 1077-7-1-0-5; Interior of John’s House Looking North, 1837, JLff, F1077-8-1-4-20; Interior, John’s House Looking South, 1837, JLff, F 1077-8-1-4-22 City of Kawartha Lakes Records & Archives Facility, Anne Langton Collection: Back Cover: Landing, Fenelon Falls, c. 1838, 846; Fenelon Falls, c. 1839, 844; Niagara from the Canadian Side, 1837, 874; Near Brin Ganno, c. 1834, 894; Landing at Blythe, 1837, 819; Indian Encampment near Blythe, c. 1839, 812; Candle-Making machine, 1846, 849; Blythe, 1837 or 1838, 825; Blythe [after the addition], 1841, 858-1; Family Party at Blythe, 1842, 809; Church, Fenelon Falls, c. 1839, 845; From the Church, Northwards, Fenelon Falls, 1838/9, 862-1, -2, -3; Backwoodsman in his winter costume, c. 1838, 884; At Peterboro, 1837, 868; Sturgeon Lake from Blythe, c. 1839, 854 Collection of Mrs Thelma Legge: Anne Langton, 1826

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Index

Act of Union, 37 Agnew, Thomas, 89n44 ague, 41, 95n126, 302, 326, 338, 340, 342, 351, 352, 354, 354n36, 356, 357, 358, 359, 363, 364, 365, 367, 368, 374, 385–9 Albany, New York, 129, 130, 131 Albion (newspaper, England), 158 Albion (newspaper, New York), 207 ‘Alice,’ the (boat), 148, 149, 151, 176, 184, 223, 227, 236, 239, 299, 332 Allen, William, xxvii, 168, 191, 334 Americans/Yankees, 114, 115, 118–19, 120, 171, 172 Anguissola, Sofonisba, 15 architecture: domestic (Upper Canada), 70; ferme ornée, 71, 102n205 Arctic, (second) voyage of Sir John Franklin, 18 art, xiv; anecdotal/genre/narrative painting, 56; china painting, 56, 68, 102n198; equipment and materials, 56; exhibitions, 16; ‘feminine’ genres, 56; ‘feminine’ themes, 56; galleries, 16, 57; ‘high art’ genres, 57; iconography (Canadian), 65, 77;

figure drawing, 57; ‘male’ genres, 57; ‘male’ themes, 57; media, 56, 57; representation of women in art, 57; self-representation of women in art, 15–16; scale, 56; supports, 56; topographical, 18, 61, 393, 394 art associations (and exhibition venues): Associated Artists in Water-Colours, 88n42; British Institution, 88n42; Liverpool Academy of Arts, 88n42; Manchester Institution and Associated Artists, 88n42; New Society of Painters in WaterColours, 88n42; ‘Old Water-Colour Society’ (/Society of Painters in Water-Colours/Royal Society of Painters in Water-Colours), 88n42; Royal Academy of Arts, 88n42; Royal Institution (Liverpool), 88n42; Society of Artists and Amateurs (Toronto, Upper Canada), 60–1; Society of British Artists, 88n42; Society of Female Artists (England), 56, 57; Toronto Society of Arts (1847), 61, 101n185; and female artists, 57 Art Gallery of Ontario, 396

418 Index artists, female, 15–16, 51, 53, 56, 57, 71, 77, 89n43, 98n159, 98n160, 99n169, 101n184 artists, male, 15, 56, 57, 61, 77, 99n171 Art Journal (Art Union), 56 Atlantic crossing, 82 Atthill, Edward, 273, 284, 285, 286, 308 Atthill, Rev. Richard, xxviii, 146, 146n70, 148, 185, 189, 194, 210, 268, 282–3, 285 aurora borealis, 175, 209, 211, 295 Austen, Jane, 86n8 Austria, 7 autobiography/autobiographical writing, 45, 47, 48, 50, 95n131, 96n141 ‘back lakes,’ 37 backwoods, xiii, 3, 38, 41, 73, 77, 79, 80, 108, 143n61, 148, 153, 155, 170, 175, 176, 186, 191, 229, 230n71, 239, 247, 254, 264, 291, 299, 303, 331, 341, 355, 356, 374 backwoodsmen, 73, 76–7, 141, 149, 189, 206, 230, 239–40, 253, 262, 265 backwoodswoman, 258 Bagot, Sir Charles, 341, 341n4 baking/cooking, 38, 163–4, 179–80, 200, 206, 215, 230, 232, 234, 247, 266, 314, 314n14, 315, 346. See also menus Balsam Lake, 4, 158, 295 Bath, 12 bazaar(s), 63, 64, 68, 101n191, 230, 252, 253, 260, 267, 274–5, 378, 396 Beaufort, Harriet, 145n68 beautiful, the, 58, 59, 70, 100n178, 173 Beehive, The (home of the Dunsfords),

73, 247, 259n145, 302–3, 303n76, 326, 375, 376 Behn, Aphra, 15 Belgium, 7 Beverley Street, 123 (Toronto), 396 ‘big house, the,’ 31, 32, 149. See also Blythe Farm Billy (servant), 388 biography, 45, 97n147 Birley, Hugh Hornby, 122n15 Birley, Joseph, 125n24 Birley, Margaret, 126n26 Birley, Richard, 109–110, 109n4, 345n11 Birley family, 107n2 blister (medical), 124, 124n19, 128, 131, 164, 354 Blodgett, Harriet, Centuries of Female Days, 13, 41, 43, 44, 87n20, 87, 28, 152n83, 182n31 Bloor, Mrs, 136, 136n50 Blythe Farm (building, landscaping, maintenance, décor), 3, 5, 31, 69–71, 85n1, 93n87, 147, 149, 155, 159, 160, 175n16, 180, 187–8, 190, 192, 197, 225, 229, 231, 232, 234, 251, 258, 280, 286, 287, 288, 293, 294n55, 297, 298, 302, 304, 308, 309, 310, 323, 328, 339, 346, 348, 350, 352, 392. See also ‘big house, the’; gardens/gardening Blythe Hall (Lancashire), 5, 6, 9, 85n1, 232, 258, 327, 392 Blythe Mills (Peterborough), 391, 392 Bobcaygeon/Bobcayjwin, 4, 35, 38, 73, 146n70, 158, 181, 272, 273, 302, 303, 305, 319, 326, 354, 355, 369, 385, 391, 392, 396 Bobcaygeon River, 148 Bologna, 7

Index 419 Bonnycastle, Captain Richard Henry, 61 Bootle, 15, 20, 23, 207, 207n21, 279 Bourgeois, Mademoiselle, 6 Boyd, Mossom, xxviii, 73, 103n209, 211, 212, 252, 259, 303, 309, 314, 330, 341, 342, 353, 357, 360, 362, 363, 368, 373, 376, 391 Bradstreet, Anne, 15 Brandon, Angel(ine), xxviii, 332, 343, 343n7, 388, 388n19 Brandon, Henry, xxviii, 332, 386, 388, 388n19 Bridget (servant), xxxi, 252, 272 Briggs, Ellen, 112, 126 Britain, xv, xvi, 16, 24, 27, 32, 33, 34, 38, 40, 43, 58, 61, 62, 69, 393 British Association, 217, 217n42 British Mother’s Journal, 32 Broadway (New York), 124, 129 Brock, General Sir Isaac, 305, 305n82 Brontë, Charlotte, and Currer family, 86n3 Brontë sisters, 86n8 Brown, Lancelot (‘Capability’), 70, 71 Brownlow, Emma, The Foundling Restored to its Mother, 57 Brussels, 7 Bryn Ganno (North Wales), 61, 157, 157n91 Buckingham Palace, 181 Burke, Edmund, 58 burnings (of woods/underbrush), 173–4, 173–4n13, 176, 348 butchery, 187, 191, 207, 214, 215, 218, 261, 280, 338 Cambridge (University), xxix, 20 Cameron(/’s) Falls (later Fenelon Falls), 4

Cameron(/’s) Lake, 4, 152, 158, 204n15, 243, 258, 271, 301, 309, 336 Canada, 238, 250 Canada East, 37. See also Lower Canada; Quebec (province) Canada West, 37, 39. See also Ontario; Upper Canada candles/candle-making, 67–8, 153, 192, 202–3, 226, 238, 252, 266, 274, 275, 276, 280, 287, 294, 294n56, 305, 325, 377, 379 canoe, 49, 63, 156, 174, 176, 194, 225, 226, 228, 230n71, 236, 246, 284 Cardwell, Mrs, 126n26 Caroline, the (U.S. shipping vessel), 172, 172n11 Carracci, Annibale (?), 17 Carriera, Rosalba, 15 Cattermole, William, Emigration ... to Canada, 27 Cayuga First Nation, 92n74 Cedar Point, 194 Champitet (/Champ-Pittet, near Neuchâtel, Switzerland), 6, 86n5, 239, 239n92 Chaplin, Millicent Mary, 53 charity, 38, 68. See also Langton, Anne; Langton, Ellen; Langton family Chemong Lake, 4, 29, 30. See also Mud Lake Chicago, Judy, The Dinner Party, 68 childbirth, 40, 392 Christian/Christianity, 12, 31, 189 church (Anglican) in Upper Canada, 144n64, 279, 368 church(es)/church-going, 38, 64, 249, 256, 285, 288–9, 293, 297, 309, 328, 331, 337, 354; Sunday services at Blythe Farm, 184, 189, 244, 258

420 Index Clarke, Miss, 366, 366n1 class/classism, xiv, xvi, xxn19, 31–2, 182n31, 183, 259n146 Claude Lorrain(e), 58; Claudian ‘repoussoirs,’ 63, 65, 101n188 climate/weather, 107–396, passim Coach, the (Anne Langton’s canoe), 176, 177 Cobden, Richard, 263n152 Cobourg/Coburg, 27, 193, 212, 279, 359, 367 Cockburn, James Pattison, 61 Colborne, District of, 370 Colborne, Sir John, 27, 35 Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 393 Colonial Advocate, 36 colonialism, 8 Colonial Office (England), 36 conduct/courtesy books, 11 Constable, John, 58, 393 Corbaux sisters, 16 Correggio, Antonio, 17 Cosway, Maria, 15 Cosway, Richard, Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, 55 Cozens, Alexander, 58 Cozens, Robert, 58 Croft Chapter House (University of Toronto), 393 Currer, Alice, 3, 7, 9, 15, 20, (fig. 4) 21, 40, 55, 69, 72, 83, 228, 248, 253, 257, 290, 293, 333, 337, 353; death of, 41, 389; grave, 169n6, 389; gentlewoman, 7; health of, 41, 329, 330, 358, 365, 375, 376, 378, 386, 387; poultry tender, 71, 109, 226, 234, 244–5, 327; role model for Anne Langton, 7, 23; school assistant, 276, 319, 323, 328; seamstress, 109, 211,

221, 226–7, 235, 277, 325, 356, 381; spinster, 7, 20, 34 Currer, Ellen, 5. See also Langton, Ellen daguerrotypes, 349–50, 350n21 Dalhousie (New Brunswick), 393 Daniel, Alexander, xxviii, 168 Daniel, Mrs, xxviii, 168, 191 Daniel family, 191, 209, 228 Davies, Thomas, 61 Dennistoun, Mr Alexander (brother of Robert), 262, 323 Dennistoun, Mrs (née Maxwell Hamilton), xxviii, 257, 260, 271, 275, 283, 284, 286, 297, 299, 336, 367, 373 Dennistoun, Robert, xxviii, 37, 145, 145n69, 147, 148, 149, 165, 173, 189, 192, 198, 204, 227, 231, 251, 258, 260, 266n160, 268, 271, 275, 283, 284, 286, 309, 336, 367, 373, 386 Derwentwater, 393 Detroit, 172 diaries, xixn13, 41, 43, 44, 45, 47, 48, 50, 56, 92n80, 95n131, 97n157, 128, 175, 176n20, 177n22, 216, 294, 389n21. See also journals; life writing Dick, George, xxvii, 199, 202, 214 Dick, William, xxvii, 168, 181, 191, 199 Diehl, Dr (/his land), xxviii, 177, 177n21, 190, 223, 223n59f diet, 108, 154. See also menus Dobbs, Captain Francis and Mrs, xxviii, 151, 151n79, 176, 189, 227, 229 Duchess of Devonshire, Georgiana, 55 Dufferin, Lady, xiii, xixn11, xixn13 Dughet, Gaspar, 17

Index 421 Duke, Ferguson, xxviii, 169 Duke, Mrs, xxviii, 191 Duke family, 205 Duncombe, Dr Charles, 171, 171n9 Dundas, Hamilton, xxviii, 145, 146, 148, 149, 189, 295, 298, 299, 316, 320, 373 Dunlop, E.S., Our Forest Home, 145n68 Dunsford, Caroline, 314, 373 Dunsford, George, 332 Dunsford, Henry, 342 Dunsford, James, 376, 378, 391 Dunsford, Lydia, 43, 259, 326n33, 375. See also Langton, Lydia Dunsford, Mrs, xxviii, 212, 247, 303, 315, 375–6 Dunsford, Rev. James Hartley, xxviii, 203, 212, 245, 247, 302, 314, 315, 315n13, 327, 330, 340, 342, 375–6 Dunsford family, xxviii, 31, 73, 181, 181n29, 189, 194, 198, 201, 202, 210, 212, 216, 227, 228, 245, 246, 247, 252, 256, 257, 271, 273, 283, 287, 300, 303, 315, 327, 340, 341, 366, 368, 368n5 Durham, County of, 369–70 Durham, Lady, xiii, xixn11, xixn13 Durham, Lord, 37, 371 Dyck, Sir Anthony van, 55 Edgeworth, Maria, 15, 145n68 Edgeworth, Thomas, 145n68 education, xv, 39–40, 201, 252, 262–3, 262–3n152, 263, 328, 331, 337, 339, 343, 346, 350, 355. See also Langton, Anne, teacher Egremont, Lord, 27, 140 Eliot, George, 15

Ellice, (Katherine) Jane, xiii, xixn11, xixn13, 53 Elliot, Stephen, 29 Ellis, William, xxix, 281, 320, 332, 332n45 embroidery (/fancy work), xii, 68, 69, 116, 260, 260n148, 294, 297, 297n64, 313, 396. See also Langton, Anne: embroidery; sewing emigration, xv, 23–4, 27, 90n63 England, 19, 43, 51, 53, 62, 126, 172, 186, 186n39, 249, 300, 329, 330, 389, 394, 395 entertaining/entertainment, 38, 156, 165, 188–9, 200, 211, 222, 227, 240, 241, 273–4, 283, 284, 295, 303, 310, 346–7, 375 Erie, Lake, 166 Errington, E. Jane, 32, 33, 131n37, 245n106, 259n146, 285n39, 335n50 Europe, 78 Ewing, Juliana Horatia, xiii, xixn11, xixn13, 53 Executive Legislative Council, 36 exhibitions, 101n184, 124. See also Society of Artists and Amateurs of Toronto exhibition venues: England: Liverpool Academy of Arts, 88n42; Royal Institution (Liverpool), 88n42; London: Associated Artists in Water-Colours, 88n42; British Institution, 88n42; New Society of Painters in Water-Colours, 88n42; Royal Academy of Arts, 88n42; (‘Old’) Water-Colour Society (/Society of Painters in WaterColours/Royal Society of Painters in Water-Colours), 88n42; Society of

422 Index Female Artists, 56–7, 88n42; Manchester: Manchester Institution and Associated Artists, 59, 88n42; New York: National Academy of Design, 59, 101n180, 124; Toronto: Society of Artists and Amateurs of Toronto, The (1834), 60; Toronto Society of Arts (1847), 61 Family Compact, 36 Farfield Hall, Yorkshire, 5, 337n52 fashion/dress, 42, 224, 239, 244, 245, 252, 285, 289, 292, 297, 312, 355–6, 359 femininity, 10, 32, 47, 48, 56–7, 68, 99n165, 182–3 feminism, xxn18 feminist criticism, xiv, 68, 85 Fenelon Falls (/‘The Falls,’ village/township; formerly Cameron Lake), xi, 3, 35, 37, 38, 40, 64, 73, 94n105, 151, 158, 271, 272, 293, 301, 328, 337, 341, 343, 346, 353, 369, 392, 396 Fenelon Falls Museum, 151n78, 352n32 Fenelon Falls Public School, 95n122 Fenelon Township, 28, 91n69 ferme ornée, 71, 102n205 Fidler, Mrs, xxix, 38, 42, 256, 257, 271, 273, 291, 301, 315, 320, 341 Fidler, Rev. Mr, xxix, 38, 39, 256, 256n132, 258, 265, 266, 276, 276n17, 277, 278, 281, 289, 296–7, 301, 314, 315, 316, 320, 327, 352, 366, 382, 387 Fidler family, 38, 256, 258, 265, 266, 287, 289, 299, 341 Fielden, Sir William, 89n44 fires, 159n95, 163, 173–4n13, 176,

177, 178, 199–200, 200n7, 245, 253, 281 First Nations/Native Peoples, xv, 63–4, 65, 91–2n72. See also Five Nations; Iroquois; Mohawk; Ojibwa; Oneida; Onondaga; Seneca; Six Nations; Tuscorora Fisher, Janet (afterwards Mrs Wallis), 268, 274n9, 275n14 Five Nations, 92n74 flax trade, 5, 24 Florence, 7, 16, 99n165 Fontana, Lavinia, 15, 88n35 food preservation, 191, 194, 204, 205, 207, 218, 232, 238, 239, 251–2, 261, 272, 278, 280, 281, 291, 302, 310, 314, 331, 356, 364 Forbes, Miss, 268 Forbes, Mr, 331 Ford Bank (near Manchester; home of Joseph Birley), 125n24, 191 Fortun, Mr T., 238, 243 Fortye, Mr and Mrs, xxix, 146, 146n71, 148, 152n82, 215, 215n36, 252 Fortye, Tom, 241 Fothergill, Charles, 61 France, 7, 12 Frankfurt, 7 Franklin, Sir John, 18 Fraser, Mr, xxix, 198, 247, 250, 271, 299, 303, 305, 340, 342, 359 Fraser, Mrs, xxix, 233n15, 247, 250, 250n115, 257, 271, 273, 299, 303, 340 Front, the (older settled regions along the Great Lakes), 38, 170, 194, 309, 341 furnishings, furniture, 154, 155, 159, 159n96, 162, 189, 197, 304, 308. See also material cultural possessions

Index 423 Galt Lake, 289 gardens/gardening, 58, 69–71, 174, 231, 287, 288, 320, 322, 323, 325, 326–7, 327, 328, 329, 333, 339, 342, 345, 347, 349, 350–1, 365, 369, 377, 383, 394. See also Blythe Farm gender ideology, xiv, xv, xxn19; and female roles, xv, 48–9, 84; and male roles, xv Geneva, 7 Gentileschi, Artemisia, 15, 88n 35 gentility, code of, xv, xxn19, 10, 11, 12, 13, 18, 32 gentlemen, xv, 10, 11, 38, 185n37, 186n39, 230, 268, 284, 344, 345, 345n10, 346, 371. See also masculinity Gentlewoman in Upper Canada, A: first edition (ed. H.H. Langton, 1950), xi, xii, xiii, xiv, xxv, 53, 78–9, 83, 103n215, 394; second edition (ed. Barbara Williams, 2008), xi, xii, xiii, xxv–vi, 80, 82, 83. See also Langton, Hugh Hornby; Langton Records gentlewoman/women, xii, xiii, xv, xviii, 10, 11, 12, 13, 33, 41, 47, 56, 57, 64, 68, 84, 85n8 gentry, 10, 38, 347, 347n15 Germany, 7 Gillies sisters, 16 Gilpin, Rev. William, 58, 63, 70, 100n174, 100n179, 182 Girtin, Thomas, 58, 393 Glasgow, 64, 221 Gordale (Scar, Yorkshire), 17, 18, 90n48–50, 393 gossip, 46, 189, 210, 287, 384 Government House (Toronto), 137, 154 government of Upper Canada, 165,

166, 195–6, 341, 369. See also House of Assembly; Langton, John; Langton, Thomas Grand Tour, the, 6, 7, 8, 9 Gray, Thomas, 393 Grier, Sir Edmund Wyly, 393 Guercino, Il (Giovanni), 17 Haldimand, Frédéric, 86n5 Hale, Elizabeth, 53 Hamilton, Gavin/Gawin, xxix, 147, 147n75, 149, 152n82, 164, 189, 204, 222, 252, 262, 295, 305, 310, 383, 386 Hamilton, Maggie (Margaret), 152n82, 219, 219n49, 220, 248, 252, 336, 337, 338 Hamilton, Major, xxix, 144n66, 146n69, 152n82, 204n15, 215n36 Hamilton, Miss Maxwell (afterwards Mrs Dennistoun), xxviii, 144, 152, 152n82, 189, 198, 198n3, 248, 251n117, 266n160, 267 Hamilton, Mrs, xxix, 152, 152n82, 156, 182, 198, 248, 250, 251, 252, 257, 262, 264, 277, 295, 299, 310, 340 Hamilton family, 144n66, 152, 152n82, 332, 376 Hargreaves, Thomas, 17, 89n44, 99n163 Head, Sir Francis, 140, 141n59, 171, 172 Herculaneum, 8 Heriot, George, Travels Through the Canadas, 61 Herz, Mrs, 9 Heywood, Ben Arthur, 89n44 Heywood, Sir Benjamin, 89n44; bank of, 39, 89n44

424 Index Hoare, Mr and Mrs (parents-in-law of Mr Jameson), xxix, 176, 257, 272, 283, 286, 287, 291, 291n50 Hopkins, Frances Anne, xiii, 53 Hornby, 107, 107n2 Hornby, Margaret, 23, 26, 55, 90n59. See also Langton, Margaret Hornby, Mrs Thomas (Cicely, née Langton; sister of Thomas Langton), xiii household management, 38, 109, 184, 322, 324, 326, 336, 347, 355, 379, 387 House of Assembly (government of Upper Canada), 171. See also Legislative Assembly Hudson River and valley, 59, 101n183, 129, 130 Hudson’s Bay Company, 373 Hume, Joseph, 171, 171n10 Huron, Lake, 137, 158 Hutchinson, Mr, 212, 288 Hutchison, Dr John (Peterborough), 40, 95n63, 144n63 Hutchison House (Peterborough), 144n63 ice house, 310, 348 imperialism, 8 Independence, the (ship), 28, 112n2, 123, 125, 136, 179, 210, 333 Indians, 30, 65, 86n11, 91–2n72, 102n193, 134, 134n45, 136, 146, 154, 173, 174, 194, 210, 221, 237, 239, 366, 366n2. See also First Nations; Five Nations; Iroquois; Iroquois Confederacy; Mohawk; Ojibwa; Oneida; Onondaga; Seneca; Tuscorora Indian Village, 4, 146

Ingram family, 219, 220 Innsbruck, 7 Ireland, 16, 19, 24, 35, 62, 151n78, 275, 393, 394 Iroquois Confederacy, 29, 92n74 Iroquois First Nation, 29. See also Mohawk; Ojibwa Isabey, Jean-Baptiste, 17, 55 Italy, 7 Jameson, Anna Brownell, xii, xviiin7, xviiin9–10, xviiin12–13, xviiin15, xviiin16, xviii–xixn17, 45, 53, 136n48 Jameson, Robert (settler), xxix, 35, 193, 241, 272, 361 Jameson, Robert Sympson, AttorneyGeneral, xiii Jasen, Patricia, xxn19, 86n9, 87n12, 92n77 Johnson, Mr, 126, 333 Jordan, Mrs, xxx, 191 Jordan, Sally (later Mrs Woods), xxx, 199, 200, 273, 279, 290, 301, 308 Jordan, William, xxx, 169, 191, 290, 301, 336, 381 Jordan family, 169, 211, 219, 319 journals, 45, 47, 48, 50, 51. See also diaries; letters; life writing journal writers, genteel female Canadian (other than Anne Langton), xixn11–12 Kauffmann, Angelica, 15, 16, 56, 99n165, 100n172 Kawartha Lakes, 4, 27, 29, 35, 37, 73, 197n1 Kay, Dr James [Kay-Shuttleworth], 262, 262–3n152 Keeting, Mr, 366–7

Index 425 Kingsmill, Captain George, 141, 141n59, 142 Kingston, 148, 158, 216, 253, 268, 274n9, 275, 276, 291, 320, 333, 334, 341, 342, 361 Kirkpatrick, 262, 334, 381, 382 Kitty (servant), xxxi, 201, 214, 225, 227 Knight, Richard Payne, 58, 70, 100n174 ladies, 113, 119, 121, 143, 156, 159, 182, 182n3, 297, 299, 320, 335, 337, 344, 345, 345n10, 346, 347; (Canadian-born) 256; (English/European), 12, 38, 44, 56, 152n83, 256, 186n39, 189, 198, 212, 214, 216, 227, 245–6, 247, 256, 257, 268, 279, 284, 287, 288, 289, 297, 298, 299, 320, 324, 341, 349; (American/‘transatlantic’), 115, 120, 155 Lake District (England), 393 Lake Neufchâtel, 6 lake/road communication, 46, 164, 166, 174n14, 202, 203, 215, 219, 220, 233, 257, 259, 260, 264, 268, 271, 272, 275, 277, 278, 305, 315, 322, 330, 361, 367, 369. See also transportation Lancashire, 5, 12, 23, 89n44, 209n23 Lancaster, 12 land journey (New York to Fenelon Falls), 28, 82, 128–48. See also Langton, Anne; Langton, Ellen; Langton, Thomas landscape. See Burke, Gilpin; Knight, Richard Payne; Langton, Anne; Langton, Ellen; Langton, John; Langton, Thomas landscape, ideal 58 landscape design, general, 69–70. See

also Blythe Farm; Brown, Lancelot; Price, Sir Uvedale; Knight, Richard Payne; Repton, Humphry landscape painting, 62, 63 Langton, Agnes (third daughter of John Langton), 394 Langton, Alice (niece; eldest daughter of William Langton), xxvii, 128, 128n31, 168, 211, 223–4, 250, 254, 293, 315, 338 Langton, Anna Margaret (third daughter of William Langton), 211, 211n29, 228, 382 Langton, Anne, Preface, passim, 3, 5, 9, 10, 12, 15, 109, 129, 134, 156, 156n90, 190, 193–4, 389, Afterword, passim; and aging, 42, 81, 253, 253n123, 259, 265n155, 292; childhood and education, 5, 6–7, 78; death of, 396; and gender differences, 48–9, 182–3, 186, 186n39, 284; as gentlewoman, xi, xiii, xv, 38, 84; and gentlewomen/gentlewomanly conduct, xi, xiii, xv, 10, 15, 32, 48, 182–3, 186, 284, 289; and gentlewomen’s/women’s roles, xv, 12–13, 33, 43, 44, 48–9; health of, 143, 375, 386; household manager, 9, 13, 43, 211, 214, 218, 286, 329; land journey, 122–3, 138–9; later years, 78, 391–7, passim; and marriage, 13, 42, 43, 185, 265, 268; and Native Peoples, 30, 64, 65, 139, 139n56; philosophical attitude, 3, 208, 259; politics, 317, 321; and spinsterhood, 10, 34, 185; and social status, 5, 9–10; on women and ‘usefulness,’ 12, 13, 43, 85 –, art/artwork: 19–20, 55, 56, 60, 61, 64, 81, 84–5, 392, 393; and aesthetic

426 Index conflict, 59, 62–3, 65, 230; aim, 46, 85; as artist, xi, 15–16, 18–19, 23, 43, 53, 56, 58, 59–65, 69, 71, 77, 81, 346n14; as book illustrations, xii, xiii, 53, 55; china painting, xii, 53, 396; china painting inventory, 68, 396, 397n30; earning income from her art, 19–20; embroidery, xii, 68, 69, 217, 260, 260n148, 274, 313, 396; equipment, 56, 59, 127; genres, 56; and gentlewoman’s artistic dichotomy, 56; Hudson River views, 59, 101n183; and identity, xv, 16, 85; landscape, 128, 138, 150, 221, 223, 247, 272; landscape painting/ sketching, xii, 53, 62, 63, 73, 77, 129; media, 56; miniature portrait painting, xii, 9, 19, 23, 42, 53, 55–6, 77, 84; oeuvre, xii, xiv, xvi, 53, 85; original artwork, locations of, xix, 19–20n17; practice, 19, 55, 56; scale, 56; self-portraiture, xii, 15, 16, 42, 55–56, 84, 99n165; sketchbooks, 17, 90n51, 90n55, 96n147, 101n183, 101n187, 102n204, 131, 393, 394, 396n5, 397n11–12, 397n16, 397n19, 397n22; sketches/sketching, 63–8, 135, 150, 151, 181–2, 184, 191, 193, 221, 223, 230, 232, 239–40, 260, 261, 267, 274, 294, 303, 346, 346n13, 394, 395, 396; sketching tours, 19, 62, 393; Studio Journals, 19, 55, 56, 89n45; style, 62, 63, 392, 393; subject matter, 53, 56, 65, 67, 72, 73, 77, 230; supports, 56; techniques, 55, 59, 182, 274, 392, 393; topographical art, 61, 393, 394; touring, 6–9, 60, 62, 86n11, 392, 393, 394, 395; training, 9, 17, 56,

89n44; viewing exhibitions, 16, 59, 101n180, 393, 394 –, as community resource person: chronicler/cultural creator, 84, 85; and church/charity, 39, 40, 205; as host, 38, 344–5, 346–7; as librarian, 39, 40, 350, 355; as nurse/apothecary, 40, 41, 205, 219, 356; as surrogate parson, 258; as teacher, 39–40, 44, 95n122, 201, 214, 221, 241–2, 244, 252, 255–6, 262–4, 277, 280, 286, 311, 312, 314, 315, 317, 319, 320, 323, 327–8, 329, 330, 331, 332, 334, 337, 343, 350, 355. See also education; medicine –, journal/life writing: 5, 78, 81, 195, 200, 249–50, 251, 280, 295, 297, 300, 311, 321, 322, 377; aim, 44, 46, 85, 96n135, 175, 198, 200, 235, 236, 254, 254n127, 257, 270, 360, 360n45, 395; audience, 44, 83, 85, 195, 236, 289; characteristics, 48; conventions, 44, 216, 217–18; diary, 175–6, 216; and gentlewoman’s writing dilemma, 47; journal(s), xxv, 46, 126, 218, 219, 242; journal letters, xxv; journal ‘notes’ (1821–37), 56, 78, 235n79; journal ‘notes’ (1881–91), 78, 235n79; letters, xi–xvii, passim, xxv, xxvi, 46; literary skills/techniques, 46, 50–1; literary value of, 50; memoir, xiii, xv, xixn14, 15, 19, 20, 44, 78, 97n147, 213n33, 235n79, 346n14, 388n19, 395; methodology, 45, 81, 198, 200, 352, 365; private journal, 235, 235n79, 290; subject matter, 322–3; thematic dullness/monotony, 45, 49–50, 187, 190, 229, 235, 251, 377;

Index 427 themes, 5, 44, 46, 50–1, 298; voyage, 82, 111–22, passim –, self-appraisal: as artist, 55, 64, 67, 138, 221, 267, 269, 303; as embroiderer, 217, 260; as journal writer, 45–6, 96n135, 194, 289; and selfimage, 41, 42, 264, 283; and selfdevelopment, 45, 46; and selfinscription/representation, 45, 51, 81, 95n131; as woman, 41–2, 182–3, 194 –, works, art: Anne Langton [self-portrait as an artist] (1826), (fig. 2) 14, 15; Anne Langton [self-portrait] (1833), cover; Anne Langton [self-portrait] (1840), ii, 42; At Peterboro (1837), (fig. 24) 142; Backwoodsman in Winter Costume, 73, (fig. 23) 76; Blythe, (fig. 18) 70; Blythe, (fig. 19) 71; Blythe from the Point, 193n50; Candle-making Machine, (fig. 17) 67, 68; Church, Fenelon Falls, (fig. 21) 73, 151; Family Party at Blythe, (fig. 20) 72, 344, 344n9; Fenelon Falls, xxxvi, 73; From the Church, Northwards, Fenelon Falls, 73, (fig. 22a,b,c,d) 74–5, 303n76; Gordale [Scar], 17, (fig. 3) 18; Indian Encampment near Blythe, 63–4, (fig. 14) 64, 65; Interior, John Langton’s Cabin, Looking North, 65, (fig. 15) 66; Interior, John Langton’s Cabin, Looking South, 65, (fig. 16) 66; John Langton (1845), (fig. 9) 52, 77; Landing at Blythe, (fig. 13) 62, 62–3; Landing, Fenelon Falls, 73, back cover; Maryboro’ Lodge, 73, 151n78, 260, 260n149; Miss [Alice] Currer, 20, (fig. 4) 21; My Father and John, 23,

(fig. 6) 24; My Sister-in-Law before She Was Married, 23, (fig. 8) 26, 55, 269, 269n166; Mrs John Langton, (fig. 10) 54, 77; Mrs Thomas Langton (1833), 20, (fig. 5) 22; Near Brin [Bryn] Ganno [North Wales], (fig. 12) 61, 62; Niagara (1837), (fig. 11) 60; Sturgeon Lake from Blythe, (fig. 25) 182; William Langton, 23, (fig. 7) 25; locations of, in public institutions, xix–xxn17 –, works, writing: A Gentlewoman in Upper Canada (first edition), xi, xii, xiii, xiv; Langton Records, xi, xii; The Story of Our Family, xiii, xix Langton, Ellen Josephine (second daughter of William Langton), 168, 338, 363, 392. See also nieces and nephews; Philips, Ellen Langton, Ellen (mother of Anne Langton), 3, 7, 20, (fig. 5) 22, 28, 35, 40, 42, 55, 69, 72, 82, 108–9, 213, 237, 289, 317, 385; and charity, 205, 259, 259n146, 358, 383; death of, 41, 386; grave of, 169n6; and garden, 70, 237, 290, 293, 328, 349; health of, 41, 83, 128–9, 130, 131, 205, 214, 303, 338–9, 352, 354, 358, 365, 375, 376, 378, 379–80, 382, 383; journal, 82, 83, 128–48; journal audience, 83, 128; on landscape, 129, 130, 131, 132, 134, 141, 143, 147; religious faith, 137, 148; seamstress, 22, 226–7, 235, 356, 358; school assistant, 276, 319, 323; on travel, 83 Langton, Ellen (second daughter of John Langton), 393 Langton, Frances (fifth daughter of William Langton), 394–5

428 Index Langton, Henry Currer (second son of William Langton), 87n27, 293, 293n54 Langton, Hugh Hornby (fifth son of John Langton), xviin1, 80, 393, 395; audience, 80, 81–2, 83; comparisons between his and Philips’s editions of A Gentlewoman, xi, 79–81; as editor of A Gentlewoman, xi, xii, xxv–xvi, 78–80, 82, 96n135, 394; omissions, xxv, 80, 81, 96n135. See also Gentlewoman in Upper Canada Langton, Jack (fourth son of John Langton), 395 Langton, John (brother), xiv, xixn17, 3, 5, 6, 9, 20, 23, 24, 27, 31, 34, 35, 36, 37, 39, 40, 42, 43, 44, 55, 64, 65, 69, 72, 77, 78, 82, 85, 91n69, 103–4n219, 107–10, 137, 139, 141, 142–3, 147, 148, 149, 152, 155, 156, 158, 160, 161, 163n103, 165, 166, 168, 169–73, 178, 185, 188, 192, 195–6, 197, 201–2, 206, 207, 208, 209, 212, 215, 222, 226, 228, 233n74, 246, 249, 251, 252, 254, 255, 257, 259, 261, 264, 265n155, 267, 268, 272, 273, 274, 275, 276, 279, 284, 285, 292, 298, 299, 306–8, 306n83, 310, 314, 317, 320, 321, 325, 326, 326n33, 327, 327n36, 329, 332, 333, 336, 337, 338, 340, 342, 348, 353, 373, 374, 375, 378, 381, 382, 385, 387, 388–9, 388n19, 389n20, 392, 393, 394, 395, 396n4; as activist/local politician, 180, 281, 282, 325, 326, 330, 340, 341, 343–4, 350, 354, 357, 359, 360, 361, 363, 369–72, 369n8, 391; and aesthetic conflict, 230; craftsman/inventor, 64, 67–8, 221, 230, 260, 294n56, 316,

321, 377; ‘diagram of part of the Newcastle district,’ 3, 4; and design, building, landscaping of Blythe Farm, 31, 93n87, 70–1, 163n103, 166, 234, 235, 286, 305; Early Days in Upper Canada, xiii, 78, 396n8; on economic/financial situation in Upper Canada, 82, 170; farming at Blythe, 170; on farming in Upper Canada, 109–10; first auditor, Dominion of Canada, 104n219, 394; first auditor for Upper and Lower Canada, xiii, 104n219, 392; health of, 340, 342, 391; land purchases, 28; Member of Parliament for Peterborough and District, 104n219, 369n8, 391; on politics in Upper Canada, 94n113, 171–3, 195–6, 197, 369–72; partnership with Mossom Boyd and James Dunsford, 391; and rebellion of 1837, 37, 94n113, 165, 171–3; and rebellion of 1838, 195–6, 197; relations with First Nations, 29–30; as vice-chancellor, University of Toronto (1856–60), 103–4n219, 392–3 Langton, Katharine Elizabeth (fourth daughter of William Langton), 254 Langton, Lydia (wife of John), 23, 43, 44, 54, 55, 85, 259n145, 326n33, 375, 382, 385, 389, 391, 393 Langton, Margaret (née Hornby, wife of William Langton), 3, (fig. 8) 26, 28, 46, 55, 83, 128, 244, 253, 255, 293, 333, 354, 354n35, 375n3 Langton, Skinner (cousin), 393 Langton, Thomas (father), 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 15, 23, (fig. 6) 24, 27, 28, 30, 55, 59, 82, 89n42, 107–8, 111, 117, 118–19, 119–21, 129, 134, 146, 157, 166,

Index 429 167, 233n74, 253, 339; as cultural and political office holder (in England), 12, 88–9n42; death of, 157n92, 169, 169n5–6; grave of, 169n6; health of, 157, 167, 168–9; on economic/financial situation: in Britain, 125; in North America, 119, 125, 140–1, 158; on farming in Upper Canada, 166; and gentility, 12, 18–19; politics in Upper Canada, 164–5; and rebellion of 1837, 37, 164–5, 166; on settlers, 168–9; on travel/touring, 8; voyage/land journey journal, 82, 111–25, passim. See also Letters of Thomas Langton Langton, William A. (son of John Langton), xiii, xixn16 Langton, William (brother), xi, xii, 6, 9, 23, (fig.7) 25, 28, 39, 40, 43, 44, 46, 55, 72, 79, 81, 83, 89n44, 126n27, 128, 229, 233n74, 260, 262–3n152, 293, 306–8, 353n35, 373, 375n3, 386, 393, 394, 395 Langton, Zachary (brother of Thomas Langton), 20, 125n23, 267 Langton family, 6, 9, 15, 71, 143n64, 233, 233n74, 234; charity/church, 39, 94n117, 256n130, 346, 350, 351, 358, 358n42, 381, 384, 396; coat-ofarms, 69, 222, 260, 260n148, 313, 397n24; emigration, 28, 107–9; encounters with First Nations, 29, 30; European travels, 6–9, 78; motto, 397n24; sojourn in Toronto; social status, 31. See also land journey Langton family business, 5, 24; nearcollapse (1821), 9; and national financial crisis (1826), 9; sale of, 15 Langton family pets, 72, 124, 153, 153n86, 184, 203, 223, 224, 224n61,

227, 284, 292, 294, 314, 318, 336, 344, 358, 368, 378 Langton Public School (Fenelon Falls), 40 Langton Records (ed. E.J. Philips, 1904), xii, 78. See also Gentlewoman in Upper Canada; Philips, Ellen Josephine Langton women, 33, 34 laundry, 102n202, 179, 220, 229, 276, 278, 336, 379 Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 17 Ledger, Miss (later Mrs Johnson), 113, 115, 116, 122, 123, 126, 178, 333 Leeches (and bloodletting), 124, 124n19 Legislative Assembly/Parliament, 369, 369n8, 391. See also House of Assembly letters, xvi, xxv, 47, 50. See also life writing Letters of Thomas Langton, xiii, 53, 78 library, 39, 40, 350 life writing, xiv, 44–51, passim; critical studies in, 47, 96n144, 97n150; genre, 96n135; reading strategies in, 47–8, 96–7n147. See also diaries; journals; letters Lindsay, 68, 174n14, 396; Art Gallery, xii. See also Purdy’s Mills Literary and Historical Society, Quebec, 233n74 Literary and Philosophical Society, Liverpool, 233n74; Manchester, 233n74 Liverpool, 9, 15, 16, 17; Liverpool– New York shipping route, 28, 91n71 log houses/shanties, 5, 64, 65, 110, 138, 147, 149, 155, 191, 221, 304, 350 London, England, 9, 12, 16, 17, 36, 44,

430 Index 57, 88n42, 90n49, 100n172, 125n23, 393, 394, 395 London, Upper Canada (Ontario), 27, 172 Long Island, 127, 128 Lowe, Miss Eliza, 44, 393 Lower Canada, xiii, 32, 36, 37, 93n93, 104n219, 165, 173. See also Canada East; Quebec lower class, 32–3, 93n96, 97n147, 182n31 lumbering, xxviii, 376, 391 MacAlpine, Mrs C.D.H. (Lena), 79, 102n205, 103n212 Macdonald, John A. (later Sir), 392, 394 Mackenzie, William Lyon, 36, 37, 165, 170n8, 172, 173 MacNab, Captain Allan, 172n11 Macredie, William, 241n95 Madeira, 374 mail communications, xvi–xvii, 46, 158, 206, 279, 340, 373 Manchester, 3, 16, 23, 124, 393, 395 Margaret (servant), xxxi, 325, 343, 345, 357, 358, 368, 387 marriage, 12, 13, 42, 43, 264–5, 279 Martineau, Harriet, 15 Martineau, sisters, 10, 16 masculinity, 47. See also gentlemen material cultural possessions, 31, 155n89, 181, 197, 217, 251, 338. See also furniture/furnishings Matthew, Father Theobald, 345n11 McAndrew, Alexander, xxx, 4, 35, 152, 152n82, 241n95, 361 McCall, Mr [John?], xxx, 238, 240, 241, 241n95

McKenna, Katherine, A Life of Propriety, 34, 88n33, 182n31, 183n32 McLaren (M’Laren), Major James, xxx, 151, 151n80, 189, 212, 241, 257, 257n137, 273, 288, 289, 297, 309, 310, 316, 337 medical matters, xv, 40–1, 124n19, 168, 184, 300, 334, 338, 341, 347, 350, 351, 375, 386–7. See also Langton, Anne, nurse-apothecary memoir, xiii, xv, 10, 15, 19, 44, 50, 78, 156, 213, 235n79, 388n19, 395. See also Langton, Anne, memoir; Story of Our Family menus, 189, 210, 212, 238, 241, 275, 278, 283, 284, 298, 347. See also diet; entertaining Menzies, daughters, 39, 201 Menzies, John, xxx, 169, 300, 333, 337 Menzies, Mrs, 332–3 Menzies family, 169n4, 184, 200, 332–3 Michigan, Lake, 158 middle class, 10, 11, 28, 33, 38, 51, 88n36 Milan, 7 militia, xiii, 35, 37, 165, 172, 305, 314 Mississauga, 29, 30. See also Ojibwa Mohawk First Nation, 29, 30, 92n74. See also Iroquois Mohawk River, 131, 138 Montgomery’s tavern, 37 Montpellier, 12 Montreal, 53, 158, 395 Moodie, Susanna, xii, xviiin7, xixn13, 32, 45, 53, 93n96, 200n7 More, Hannah, 10, 15 Morel, Rosalie, 226, 226n65, 296, 296n63

Index 431 Moser, Mary, 100n172 mosquitoes, 41, 77, 95n126, 153, 221, 228, 231, 237, 240, 244, 246, 291, 322, 387 Mount Pleasant (Liverpool), 277, 277n19, 279 Mud Lake, 146, 146n72, 148, 158, 361. See also Chemong Lake Murphy, Dennis Brownell, 17 Murray, Lord Henry, 139 Murray and Baedeker, 9 music, 6, 7, 242–3, 247, 249, 303, 345, 375, 392 Naples, 9, 123, 207 Napoleon, 123n17; Napoleonic wars, 24 National Academy of Design (New York), 59, 101n180. See also art, exhibition venues; exhibitions Navy Island, 172, 172n11 Need, Thomas, xxx, 146, 146n70, 148, 154, 198, 212, 212n31, 216, 240, 271, 273, 299, 300, 303, 309, 310, 319, 326, 341, 342, 344, 363, 366, 373, 375, 395 Neufchâtel, Lake, 6 New Brunswick, 53, 393 Newcastle District (Upper Canada), 3, 4, 27, 28, 357, 369 New Jersey, 128 Newmarket (Ontario), 194 New World, xv, 24, 29, 32, 33, 49, 58, 76, 77, 82, 123, 126, 129, 132, 347n15 New York, 27, 28, 59, 82, 91n71, 112n2, 120, 121, 123, 127, 128, 129, 391 Niagara, 35, 53, 60, 86n11, 138, 151

Niagara Falls, 53, 58, 60, 86n9, 86n11, 100n176, 134, 134n43–4, 135, 138, 151, 392, 395 Niagara River, 172n11 nieces/and nephews (of Anne Langton), 28, 46, 72, 81, 85, 103n207, 153, 210, 230n71, 258, 315, 360–1, 393, 395 Ninniwish (boat), 239, 242, 246 Nochlin, Linda, 77 Northumberland County, 369–70 Norway, 205 Nye, Captain (of the Independence), 116, 117, 120, 122, 123, 127 O’Brien, Mary, xiii, xixn12–13, 95n120 O’Flynn, Dan (also O’Flynn; brother of Mary Scarry), xxx, 160, 161n99 Ogdensburg, New York, 195, 196 Ojibwa First Nation, 29. See also Iroquois First Nation; Mississauga Old Edward (servant), 214, 215 Old Masters (art), 17, 56 Old World, 32, 49, 76, 183, 219, 237, 264, 285 Oneida First Nation, 92n74 Onondaga First Nation, 92n74 Ontario, xi, 27, 32, 53. See also Canada West; Upper Canada Ops Township, 160, 193, 227, 317, 338, 344, 347 Ormskirk, 5 Ormstead, Miss, 113, 116, 178 Ormstead, Mr, 113, 116, 118, 119, 122, 123, 124 Ormstead, Mrs, 113 Oswego, 27 Other, the, 65 Otonabee River (Peterborough), 143

432 Index Ottawa, 53, 394, 397n16 Owen, Robert, 262–3n152 Paestum (Italy), 125, 386 panoramic views: The Beehive and islands in Sturgeon Lake, 303, 303n76; Fenelon Falls, 73, 74–5; Quebec City, 394, 397n13 Papineau, Louis-Joseph, 36 Paris, 7, 9 Parliament Buildings (Ottawa), 53, 394 Parmigianino, Girolamo, 17 parsonage (Fenelon Falls), 39, 257, 258, 296, 299, 316 Pascal, Roy, 45 Patriotes, 36 Peel, Lucy, xiii, xixn12–13, 32 Pestalozzi, Johannes, 6, 86n6 Peterboro/Peterborough, 27, 29, 35, 40, 53, 68, 141, 142, 143, 143n61, 148, 152, 154, 156, 158, 160, 194, 204, 206–7, 212, 215, 238, 243, 248, 250, 251, 253, 262, 267, 275, 281, 282, 285, 291, 297, 299, 308, 315n13, 317, 320, 325, 330, 331, 334, 340, 342, 343, 354, 368, 369, 370, 372, 374, 375–6, 380, 384, 385, 389, 391, 392, 396 Peterborough, County of, 370 Peterborough Examiner, the, 315n13 Petworth (Sussex), emigration scheme, 27, 28, 140, 140n58 Peyrou, Mme de, 6, 7 Philips, Ellen Josephine (née Langton; second daughter of William Langton), xi, xii, xiii, xxv–vi, 69, 78, 79, 103n217; audience, 80, 81–2, 83; comparisons between her and H.H. Langton’s editions of Anne Langton’s original journals and

letters, 79–81; as editor of Langton Records, xi, xii, xxv–vi, 78, 82; visit to Canada (1854), 80. See also Langton, Ellen; Langton Records Pickering, Joseph, Emigrant’s Guide, 27 picturesque, the, 18, 19, 58, 59, 61, 62, 63, 65, 70, 82, 100–1n174, 101n179, 147, 150, 173, 173n13, 184, 303, 393, 394 Pigeon Lake, 4, 158, 273 ploughing match, 38, 50, 344–5, 346–7 Point Lévis, 394 politics (Britain), Lower Canada, 36–7, 82; Upper Canada, xv, 36, 37, 164–5, 171–3, 195–6, 369–72 Pompeii, 8 Poor Law Commission, 27 Port Hope, 139, 141, 292, 320, 325 Portsmouth, 28, 91n71 postcolonial era, xiv postpartum care, 40, 392 Poussin, Nicolas, 58 Powell, Anne, 13, 34 Prescott, 37, 195, 195n55, 196 Preston (Lancashire), Assembly Rooms and Guild, 12 Price, Sir Uvedale, 70, 100n174 Prince Arthur Avenue, 23 (Toronto), 395 Princess (later Queen) Victoria, 28. See also Queen Victoria Purdy’s (Mills) [Lindsay], Ontario, 174n14, 175n17, 255, 260, 268. See also Lindsay Quebec City, 74, 80, 233n74, 391, 393, 394 Quebec (province), 28, 37, 53, 80, 86n5. See also Canada East; Lower Canada

Index 433 Queenston, 36, 135, 305 Queen Victoria, 80, 181, 279. See also Princess Victoria quinine, 41, 356, 358, 359, 364, 368, 379, 386, 387 race, xiv ‘Radicals’/Reformers, 36, 37, 171, 370 Rebellion, Lower Canada (1837), 36–7, 164–5 Rebellion, Upper Canada (1837), 36, 37, 165, 171–3; (1838), 194–5 recovered material, xxv, 79; Journals and Letters, passim regatta(s), 38, 94n115, 180, 180n27, 182, 206, 220, 243, 244, 250, 252, 252n121, 253, 256, 256n130, 262, 381 Repton, Humphry, 70, 71, 100n174, 102n205 Rice Lake, 4, 141 Riga, Latvia, 5 Robinson, Peter, 27 Roman Campagna, the, 58 Rome, 7, 8, 16, 89n44, 94n117, 122n16, 207, 392 root house, 71, 236 Rosa, Salvator, 58 Rosedale ravine (Toronto), 396, 397n29 Rothschild Bank, Liverpool, 23 Royal Academy of Art (London), 17, 88n42, 100n172 Royal Canadian Institute, 233n74 Rubens, Sir Peter Paul, 17 Rubridge, 381 Ruskin, John, 16 Russell, Lord John, 371–2, 372n9 Russell, Mrs (servant), xxx, 317, 323, 324

Ryerson, Rev. Egerton, 39 Sand, George, 15 Sandby, Paul, 58 Savage, 147, 149, 151, 186 Sawers, Captain, xxx, 149, 354 Scarry, Mary (née O’Flynn), xxx–xxxi, 161, 161n100, 163, 164, 206, 225, 226, 227, 237, 252, 273, 275, 275n13, 300, 301, 302, 303, 308, 323, 324, 376, 379, 388 Schermerhorn, Mr, 119 School for Young Ladies (Miss Lowe’s), 44, 393 schools, 39–40, 64, 95n122, 346. See also Langton, Anne, as teacher Schreiber, Charlotte, The Lost Playmate, 57 Scotland, 62, 63 Scott, Mr, 136–7, 139 Scugog Lake, 158 Scugog River, 155, 158, 174n14, 175n1, 255 Seedley, 126, 126n27, 157, 250, 267 Seneca First Nation, 92n74 Seringapatam, 204, 204n15, 209, 210 servants, 15, 32–3, 80, 109, 131, 131n37, 156, 157, 160, 161, 161n100, 168, 169, 181, 182n31, 186, 186n38, 193n47, 198, 199, 201, 205, 225, 227, 228, 231, 237, 240, 243, 247, 249, 250–1, 252, 265–6, 272, 273, 275, 277, 277n20, 278, 279, 300, 302, 304, 310, 323, 324, 325, 327, 332, 335, 343, 345, 357, 376, 377–8, 385, 386, 387, 388 settler society, 31, 35, 37–8, 108, 156, 344–5, 345n10, 346–7, 373, 376 sewing (plain), 68–9, 185, 187, 221, 223, 225, 232, 233, 242, 245,

434 Index 245n107, 246, 288, 297, 312, 315, 319, 323, 330, 334, 337, 353, 355–6, 359, 385. See also embroidery Shaw, Mr, 148, 253 Shirreff, Patrick, A Tour through North America, 27 Simcoe, John Graves, Governor, xiii Simcoe, Lake, 158, 204 Simcoe, Mrs Elizabeth, xiii, xixn11, xixn13, 53, 173–4n13 Six Nations, 92n74 Smith, Valene E., xxn19, 7 soap making, 192, 325, 379 social status, xv, 10, 11, 30–1, 32, 33, 34, 43, 49, 96n135 Society of Artists and Amateurs of Toronto, The, 60, 101n184. See also art associations Society of Female Artists (England), 56, 57. See also art associations Sockett, Rev. Thomas, 27 Sorrento, 207 Southgate (near London, England), 44 Sowbridge, Mr and Mrs, 135 Spectator, the (newspaper, England), 158, 171, 195, 196 Speller, Randall, 94n105 Starke, Mrs Mariana, 9, 16 stewards/stewardesses, 116–7, 132 Stewart, Frances, xiii, xixn12–13, 145, 145n68 Stewart, Thomas Alexander, 145, 145n68 St James’s Church, Fenelon Falls, 38–9, 73, 169n6, 248, 296, 368 St John’s Church, Peterborough, 143, 368, 392 St Lawrence River, 394 stores (/shops), 35, 127, 131, 144, 153, 156, 293, 349, 354

Story of Our Family, The, xiii, xixn14, 53, 86n11, 96–7n147, 135n47, 143n61, 180n27, 186n39, 213n33, 235n79, 256n130, 259n146. See also Langton, Anne, memoir; memoir St Peter’s Basilica, Rome, 138 Street, Rev. George Charles, 248, 248n112 Strickland, Samuel, Twenty Years in Canada West, Or the Experience of an Early Settler, 93n93 Studio Journals, 19, 55, 56 Sturgeon Lake, xi, 3, 4, 23, 28, 29, 30, 31, 35, 41, 42, 82, 110, 143, 145, 146n70, 147, 149, 158, 182, 190, 247, 289, 321, 327n26, 376, 385, 391 Sturgeon Point, 4, 38, 93n115, 147, 180, 182, 190, 194, 208, 226, 241, 246, 257n139, 288, 296, 298 sublime, the, 17, 18, 58, 59, 70 supplies (from England), 152, 174n14, 175n17, 193, 193n48, 212, 216–17, 251, 251n118, 260, 264, 269, 298, 304, 305, 306–8, 330, 338, 342, 349 supplies (in Upper Canada), 153, 192, 197, 251, 268, 293 survival, mental, 47, 51, 82, 85 survival, physical, 82, 85 Swinton (Manchester; home of Hugh Birley), 122, 125 Switzerland, 6, 7 Sydenham, Lord, 325, 325n30, 330, 341, 371 Synnot, Lord and Lady, 89n44 Taylor, William (carpenter), xxxi, 175n16, 266, 286, 291, 318, 319, 327, 330, 334, 351, 352, 355, 380

Index 435 temperance movement/societies, 345, 345n11 Thornhill family, 351 Timothy (1) (servant), xxxi, 317, 328, 329, 331, 332n46 Timothy (2) (servant), xxxi, 332, 332n46, 336, 342, 356, 358, 360 Toker, Mr, 210, 288, 288n45 Tories, 36 Toronto, 35, 37, 60, 80, 135, 136n48, 154, 166, 173, 197, 298, 392, 394, 395, 396 Toronto Society of Arts, 60 Torquay, 393 tourism, xv, 7–9, 58, 86n9, 86n11, 87n12. See also Langton family, European travels; travel tourist sights/sites, 8 Traill, Catharine Parr, xii, xviiin7, xixn13, 45 transportation, 128–49, passim, 155, 158, 166, 174n14, 175n17, 202, 204, 205, 215, 220, 257, 258, 260, 261, 264, 271, 272, 330. See also lake/road transportation travel, xv, 6, 7–9, 28, 59, 82–3, 86n9, 261, 322, 340. See also Langton family, European travels; tourism travel writing, by Langton family members, 82; by other writers, 8, 9 Trent River, 35, 158 Trent-Severn Waterway, 93–4n104, 158, 197n1, 331 True Womanhood, Cult of, 11, 34 Turner, J.M.W., 58, 393 Tuscorora First Nation, 92n74, 134n45, 146n73 Uffizi gallery, 16, 99n165 United Empire Lots, 28, 91n69

United States, 37, 165, 172 United States Congress, 172 University Club (Sturgeon Lake area), 327, 327n36 University College (University of Toronto), 393, 396, 396n8, 397n29 University of Toronto, xvii, 80, 392 Upper Canada, xi, xiii, xvi, Introduction, passim, 104n219, 170n8, 171n9, 186n38, 346, 372. See also Canada West; Ontario Upper Canada College, 80 upper class, 8, 10, 11, 13, 33 Uraguadire, 30 usefulness, 12–13, 43, 87n28. See also Langton, Anne, on usefulness utility (in objects, buildings), 65, 67, 68, 69, 71, 102n205 Vansittart, Admiral and Mrs, 295, 295n58 Vasari, Giorgio, 16, 88n35 Venice, 7 Verulam and Fenelon Hunt (Club), 185, 185n37, 252, 252n121 Verulam/Verulam Township, 28, 35, 37, 345, 391 Vesuvius, 8 Vicinus, Martha, xxn19, 34, 86n8 Vigée-LeBrun, Elisabeth, 15, 16 Wakefield, Edward Gibbon, 34 Wales, 62, 393, 394 Wallis, Caroline, 151n78, 160 Wallis, James, xxxi, 35, 37, 39, 64, 68, 72, 73, 94n105, 103n208, 147, 147n74, 149, 151, 151n78, 151n80, 156, 158, 164, 192, 197, 198, 206, 227, 228, 231, 241, 261, 268, 274, 274n9, 275, 276, 282, 284, 285,

436 Index 285n40, 287, 288, 291, 295, 296, 299, 301, 304, 305, 309, 320, 331, 334, 337, 341, 361, 373, 374, 382, 389 Wallis, Mrs, 42, 282, 285, 287, 288, 295, 301, 309, 320, 331, 341, 373, 389 Ward, James, 17, 18, 90n47–8, 90n50 Waterford, Lady Louisa, 51, 53 Weld, Isaac, 9, 122 Weld, Mrs, 362 Weld family, 89n44 Wellington, Duke of, 123 West, Mrs (Jane), Letters to a Young Lady, 11, 68, 87n23, 87n28, 277n20 West Point (military academy), 129–30 Whitby (formerly Windsor), 152, 193, 298 Wickham, 341, 380 wilderness, 3, 63, 138–9, 150

William IV, 28 Windmill, Battle of the, 37, 195n55 Windsor. See Whitby Witherup, James, 256n130, 296, 296n60 Wollstonecraft, Mary, 15 Women’s Art Association of Canada, 395 women’s studies, 79, 96n135 Woods, Mrs (née Sally Jordan), 308 Wool, General, 195, 196 Wordsworth, Dorothy, 42 Wordsworth, William, 42, 393 Yonge Street (Toronto), 37 York (Toronto), 27–8 Yorkshire, 5, 393 Yorkshire Dales, 5, 17 Yorkville, 136n50, 395 Yverdon (Yverdun), Switzerland, 6, 226, 226n65