Family Life and Sociability in Upper and Lower Canada, 1780-1870: A View from Diaries and Family Correspondence 9780773570658

Table of contents :
Contents
Tables and Figures
Acknowledgments
Introduction
PART ONE: THE COUPLE
1 Courtship and Engagement
2 Marriage
3 Housekeeping and Household Production
4 Married Life
PART TWO: PARENTS AND CHILDREN
Introduction
5 Childbirth and Infancy
6 Childhood
7 Childhood Accidents, Illness, and Death
8 Parent-Child Relationships
PART THREE: KINSHIP AND COMMUNITY
Introduction
9 Domestic Rituals and Celebrations
10 Family Sociability
11 Mutual Assistance and Reciprocity
12 Family Correspondence
Conclusion
Appendix 1
Appendix 2
Notes
Bibliography
Index
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B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
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P
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Citation preview

Family Life and Sociability in Upper and Lower Canada, 1780-1870

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Family Life and Sociability in Upper and Lower Canada, 1780-1870 A View from Diaries and Family Correspondence FRANCOISE NOEL

McGill-Queen's University Press Montreal & Kingston * London • Ithaca

© McGill-Queen's University Press 2003 ISBN 0-7735-2445-2

Legal deposit first quarter 2003 Bibliotheque nationale du Quebec Printed in Canada on acid-free paper that is 100% ancient forest free (100% post-consumer recycled), processed chlorine free. This book has been published with the help of grants from the Humanities and Social Sciences Federation of Canada, using funds provided by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, and from Nipissing University. McGill-Queen's University Press acknowledges the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP) for its publishing activities. We also acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts for our publishing program.

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Noel, Fran9oise, 1952Family life and sociability in Upper and Lower Canada, 1780-1870 : a view from diaries and family correspondence / Francoise Noel. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-7735-2445-2 1. Family - Ontario - History - I9th century - Sources. 2. FamilyQuebec (Province) - History - 19th century - Sources. 3. FamilyOntario - History - 18th century - Sources. 4. Family - Quebec (Province)-History-18th century-Sources. 5. Ontario - Social life and customs — Sources. 6. Quebec (Province) - Social life and customs - Sources. I. Title. HQ559.N64 2003

3o6.8'o9713'09034

Typeset in 10/12 Sabon by True to Type

CZOO2-9O3OI5-3

Contents

Tables and Figures vi Acknowledgments

xi

Introduction

3

PART ONE

THE C O U P L E

1

Courtship and Engagement

19

2

Marriage

3

Housekeeping and Household Production

4

Married Life

102

PART T W O

PARENTS AND CHILDREN

60

Introduction

131

5

Childbirth and Infancy

6

Childhood

7

Childhood Accidents, Illness, and Death

8

Parent-Child Relationships

9

133

148

PART T H R E E Introduction

82

165

173

KINSHIP AND COMMUNITY 191

Domestic Rituals and Celebrations

10

Family Sociability

11

Mutual Assistance and Reciprocity

193

211 246

vi

CONTENTS

12

Family Correspondence Conclusion

273

Appendix 1 277 Appendix 2 Notes

281

Bibliography Index

280

363

347

259

Tables and Figures

TABLES

1 2 3

Food-related activities in Eliza Bellamy's diary 277 Entries in Eliza Bellamy's diary relating to household sewing Z79 Correspondence of Amedee Papineau in 1840 280 FIGURES

1.1 1.2, 1.3 1.4 1. 5 1.6 1.7 1.8 1.9 1.10 2.1 2.2 2.3 2.4 2.5 4.1 4.2,

Cornelius Krieghoff, Officier courtisant une jeune fille 21 Letter from Robert Hoyle to Eliza Nye proposing marriage 24 Letter from Eliza Nye to Col. Hoyle 25 Henry Joseph, silhouette portrait 30 Rachael Solomons Joseph 31 R.A. Sproule, Quebec/Lower Canada, Vue de I'Esplanade et des fortifications de Quebec, 1832 32 Rebekah Joseph, Montreal, 1869 37 A. Joseph, Montreal, 1873-74 4z Mrs Abraham Joseph, Montreal, 1866 43 The Westcott family 53 The family of John Ashworth and Julia Philips 64 Mrs George Shaw, Montreal, 1865 68 James Taylor's wedding group, Montreal, 1864 68 The Wilcox and Mead wedding party at Niagara Falls, 1867 69 Portrait of a young couple, ca. 1864-1897 69 Susanna and John Moodie and family, ca. 1866 118 Ludger Duvernay, Montreal, 1861 120

VIII

4.3 6.1 6.2 6.3 6.4 6.5 6.6 6.7 6.8 7.1 10. 1 10.2 10.3 10.4 10.5 10.6 10.7 10.8 10.9 10.10 10.11 10.12 10.13 10.14 10.15 10.16

TABLES AND F I G U R E S

Amedee Papineau and Mary Westcott Papineau, ca. 1851 124 Theophile Hamel, Madame Jean-Baptiste Renaud, 1853 152 Theophile Hamel, Dominick Daly O'Meara, ca. 1847 153 Theophile Hamel, Ernest Hamel, nephew of the artist, 1854 153 Theophile Hamel, Noemie, Eugenie, Antoinette, and Sephora Hamel, nieces of the artist, 1854 156 Master Prescott Esdaile, 1861 156 Master William McFarlane Notman, 1867 157 Miss Susannah Lyman, 1863 157 Theophile Hamel, Adolphe, Auguste, Eugene and Alphonse Hamel, nephews of the artist, 1847 158 Abraham Joseph, his wife Sophia (nee David) and ten of their children 167 Page from Abraham Joseph's diary showing the first day of his New Years' calls in 1850 214 George Heriot, Dance in the Chateau St Louis, 1801 2,18 Montreal Garrison Artillery Ball, 1869 218 Ball Toilettes, 1870 219 Joseph family members in fancy dress costumes, about 1875, album page 220 James Peachey, A Winter View of the Falls of Montmorency (Quebec), 12 April 1781 222 R.G.A. Levinge, The "43rd Light Infantry" As They "Turn Out" in Their Sleighs at the "Falls of Niagara," 1839 222 Mary Millicent Chaplin, Coasting down the Ice Cone, Quebec, 1842 223 James Duncan, Descente en luge a Montreal, 1868 223 Henry James Warre, Sleighing in the Country and Sleighing in the City of Montreal (My Sleigh) (Quebec.), March 1842 224 Hon. L.A. Dessaulles and family, Montreal, 1862 234 South side, Chateau de Montebello, Montebello, ca. 1890 239 Portrait of Louis Joseph Amedee Papineau and family, ca. 1860 240 Napoleon Bourassa, Napoleon Bourassa and his wife, nee Azelie Papineau, 1858 241 Napoleon Bourassa, Louis-Joseph Papineau, 1858 243 Alfred Boisseau, Julie Bruneau Papineau, 1872 243

TABLES AND FIGURES

IX

12.1 Louis Dulongpre, Joseph-Marie Cherrier, ca. 1795-98 261 12.2 Louis Dulongpre, Marie-Anne Cherrier, ca. 1795-98 261 12.3 Louis Dulongpre, Louis-Joseph Papineau, ten years old 261 12.4 Louis Dulongpre, Joseph Papineau, 1825 263 12.5 Louis Dulongpre, Rosalie Cherrier Papineau, ca. 1825 263 12.6 James Duncan (attributed), Louis-Michel Viger, 1833 264 12.7 James Duncan (attributed), Madame Louis-Michel Viger, 1833 264

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Acknowledgments

This book has been many years in the making, and I am grateful to the many people who have helped me along the way. My colleagues at Nipissing University have been supportive through the years: Steve Muhlberger read an early draft even though this work is completely outside his field; Gerry Olsen made suggestions as to paintings of children I might include and was indirectly responsible for my finding the wonderful collection of Hamel's paintings at the Musee du Quebec; the third-floor crowd listened to me talk about my work only occasionally, but, more importantly, frequently provided me with a diversion over lunch; Robert Forrest, Vice-President Academic and Research, has been supportive of my application for funds to cover publication costs. Regrettably, Bob Surtees, who never doubted that it would be completed, is not here to see the book in print. Thanks also go to the students of my Family and Community seminar who have allowed me to share my interest in family history with them in recent years. I would also like to express my appreciation to the staff behind the scenes at the National Archives of Canada and the Archives of Ontario and elsewhere who provided me with the material I needed to do my research. I am particularly grateful to their staff and to those at the McCord, the National Gallery of Canada, the Musee du Quebec, and elsewhere who are responsible for creating and maintaining the web sites, searchable databases, and digitized images of our Canadian heritage that greatly facilitate the research of those away from larger centres. Without these the task of illustrating this book would have been far more daunting. The assistance and encouragement of Aurele Parisien, editor, at McGill-Queen's has been invaluable through the final stages of completing this project, along with that of Joan McGilvray, coordinating editor, Maureen Garvie, copy editor, and the anonymous peer reviewers

Xll

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

of the manuscript. Special thanks to McGill-Queen's University Press and to Mary Anne Poutanen for access to the forthcoming The Abraham Joseph Diaries while still in production. I gratefully acknowledge the financial contribution of Nipissing University to this project in the form of sabbatical leaves in which to research and write, funding to meet some of my research and publication costs, and the grant of a publishing subsidy. The Humanities and Social Sciences Federation of Canada through their Aid to Scholarly Publications Program have made the publication of this work possible. Histoire sociale/Social History kindly granted me permission to reuse material originally published in their journal. Special thanks go to Robert Van Vliet Nicholls who provided and granted permission to publish the engagement letters of Robert Hoyle and Eliza Nye. Finally, but certainly not least, I would like to thank Stephen Tomlinson for being there.

Family Life and Sociability in Upper and Lower Canada, 1780-1870

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Introduction

In 1839 when Donald Moodie was three and living in the backwoods of Upper Canada, his mother cut down her husband's grey frock coat to make a suit for him. She wrote to her husband that the child looked "a funny quiz in a coatee and trowsers." Donald, however, had grasped the momentous significance of this occasion. "I am a man now, me never wear girls' petticoats again," he told his mother.1 He remained proud of his new status, and a month later his mother would write: "The manly little creature becomes them [trowsers] well; and is so proud of his pockets."2 In 1838, after over a year of sorely missing his father, who was in exile in the United States, young Napoleon Duvernay got up one morning and, "looking at himself in the mirror rubbing his hands on his face," told his mother, "I am sick I believe as I am pale and changed." His mannerisms were exactly those of her husband, and his mother "laughed and cried at the same time" to see him, as she later wrote her husband.3 These two moments in time, captured in the correspondence of Susanna Moodie and Reine Duvernay, allow us, along with their absent husbands, to share a glimpse into the lives of their families. It is through many such shared moments with the families of Upper and Lower Canada whose letters and diaries are examined here that we explore the nature of family life in the early nineteenth century. Studying family life based on diaries or journals 4 imposes limitations as well as offering many advantages. The nature of diaries evolved over time and with the purpose of their authors, not the use that historians would put them to.5 For a study of family life, travel diaries, introspective religious diaries, farm or business diaries, and those that focus on public events6 are of limited use because of their exclusive focus. Although some diarists like George Stephen Jones7 openly expressed their feelings in their diary, the diary had not completed its

4

FAMILY LIFE AND SOCIABILITY

transformation into a "journal intime" in the early nineteenth century. Many of the diaries from this period were written in the tradition of the "livre de raison" which emerged in the sixteenth century and recorded family accounts and events of significance to the family lineage.8 More general in nature, they served primarily as a record of daily activities including visits received and made, family and community events, especially births, deaths and marriages, daily work, the weather, and occasionally, but not in all diaries, the fears, hopes or feelings of writer with regards to these events. Many activities were considered too familiar and mundane to include. These sometimes appear with a reference to doing the "usual." Most diaries were private and not intended for publication, although they might on occasion be viewed by others.9 Letter diaries, on the other hand, had a specific audience in mind and were written as a substitute for letters. Although they often included more detail about daily life as a result, they might reveal less information in other areas. The diary of Lady Simcoe, for example, was written for the benefit of her daughters in England and minimized any difficulties she faced.10 Mary O'Brien11 regularly sent her letter diary to her sister in England to be read by various members of the family. For this reason it is particularly rich in detail on the process of settlement and her adaptation to her new home. Not surprisingly, it has been used extensively by historians of Upper Canada.11 Lucy Peel's letter journals have been described as the Lower Canadian equivalent to those of the gentry in Upper Canada.13 As with Lady Simcoe's diary, journals written for an audience, albeit one of family and friends, were affected by that constraint.14 Yet despite their possible shortcomings as a source, they provide a wealth of information about family life. Diaries from this period are particularly useful in showing the extent to which an individual was immersed in a dense social network of family, neighbours, and kin.15 Two of the diarists examined in detail in this study, Amedee Papineau and Abraham Joseph, exemplify this well. Amedee, the son of patrtote leader Louis-Joseph Papineau, decided to keep a journal in 1838, in part to document the history of the Rebellions in Lower Canada and those who had participated in this event.16 Already well known as a source on the political history of the Rebellions, its rich detail about the social activities and lifestyle of a young "bourgeois" both before and after marriage makes it invaluable for the study of family life as well. It records Amedee's transition from early adulthood while in exile in the United States, his difficult courtship with Mary Westcott (whose father initially opposed their union), and his early married life. While some entries touch on public events, his journal also served as a record of letters received and sent and of visits

INTRODUCTION

5

made and received. At times it was also a place where he could pour out his emotions and his response to the great joys and great sorrows in his life. It is therefore a rich source in its own right and even more so when used, as it is here, in conjunction with the correspondence of Mary Westcott Papineau. Abraham Joseph, the son of the prominent Jewish merchant, Henry Joseph, and Rachael Solomons, was still young and single when he began keeping a journal. His early efforts often consisted of copying • items of note from newspapers. When he moved from Montreal to Quebec, he continued to record various public events such as the arrival and departures of ships from the harbour but added an account of his daily social activities. In the habit of recording the day's events before retiring each night, he filled many pages with accounts of his active social life in Quebec, Montreal, Three Rivers, and beyond, before he married Sophia David in 1846. The difficulties that had to be resolved between them before this could happen are described in great detail. Thereafter, Abraham was not quite as regular in his writing, and there were long intervals in which he did not write at all. The consistency with which he recorded the annual ritual of New Year's calls, however, suggest that keeping track of his social network was an important function of his journal.17 Both the Papineau and Joseph diaries I have used here to discuss courtship as well as family social activities. Another diary from Lower Canada, that of Alfred Stikeman,18 a farmer of Pointe Fortune, mixes references to farm work, workmen's wages, and the amount of butter produced with those to shooting, cricket matches, visiting, dinners, and pleasant evenings. With the exception of a few days when he joined the troops, the Rebellions remain as a backdrop to Stikeman's daily concerns. A number of diaries from Upper Canada were also consulted in whole or in part. These are the diaries of Ann Wrong,19 a teacher near Malahide, Upper Canada; John Wells,2-0 an English immigrant who was a teacher in Bond Head and Ingersoll; William Hughton Lane,11 a teacher and farmer in Marysburgh Township, Prince Edward County; Frances Tweedie Milne22 of Whitby, and Eleonora Hallen of Medonte and her sister Sarah Hallen Drinkwater of Orillia.23 Taken together, these shed light on courtship and the social life of young adults. Although we know less about the background of these diarists, they reflect small town and rural life in contrast to Papineau and Joseph. Frances Tweedie Milne's diary has also been consulted through the first year of her marriage and has been used to discuss childbirth and infancy. The diaries of several more mature individuals have been useful in shedding light on the later stages of family life. Eliza Bellamy,24 at the

6

F A M I L Y L I F E AND S O C I A B I L I T Y

time she wrote that segment of her diary which has survived, was in her fifties, the wife of Samuel J. Bellamy, postmaster and mill owner. Her children and stepchildren were grown. Living in the small village of North Augusta in Upper Canada, her life and her approach to it bear some resemblance to that of Martha Ballard in early Maine, in Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's A Midwife's Tale.25 Eliza Bellamy was clearly a key player in a female network of mutual assistance. Her emotional link to her daughter was particularly strong, but she was also situated in a large kinship network of Bellamy kin. Because her diary provides considerable detail on the household and social tasks undertaken by women in the context of daily family life, it has been particularly useful in our discussion of housekeeping and household production. She also used her diary to record letters written and received, visitors, and calls made. Although sparse in detail, it also served to some extent as a place to record her periodic spiritual inventories. Only rarely did she express how she felt about the events happening around her. John Glass Malloch26 of Perth, Upper Canada, born in Scotland in 1807 and a member of the Church of Scotland,27 was a lawyer and in 1842. was appointed judge of the Bathurst District Court. He was very involved in local affairs, especially the Agricultural Society. He was married in 183 5 to Isabella Bell, the daughter of the Reverend William Bell.28 By 1845 they had five children. Their eldest daughter, Mary Ann, was born in 1836. Two sons were born after Mary Ann died. Edward George, born in 1841, was just starting to walk alone in January of 1842.19 The Mallochs' youngest daughter was born on 27 March 1843. In 1858, John built "Victoria Hall," a stately Victorian home.30 His diary, which covers the period from 1841 to 1845 with some gaps, deals with many aspects of family and community life.31 Jacob Keefer,32 of French Huguenot descent, was one of the first settlers at Thorold in Welland County, a businessman and postmaster. Angelique Stewart33 was the wife of the seigneur of Metis. Edmund William Romer Antrobus34 of Berthierville, Lower Canada, son of merchant John Antrobus and grandson of seigneur James Cuthbert, moved in elite circles and often socialized with other military officers as well the governor's entourage. He was an army officer, justice of the peace, and aide-de-camp. His diary records much of this public social life as well as some of the activities he participated in with his children and his concerns for them. A significant gap from 30 March to Z5 August 1842 covers the period that immediately followed the tragic death of his cousin James Cuthbert. The limited information Antrobus chooses to give before resuming his daily entries suggests that this death was unexpected and devastating to the family. There is no indication as to cause of death, which in itself is unusual. Antrobus does

INTRODUCTION

7

not appear to have expressed any of his emotions in his diary, and thus it is not surprising that he did not do so at this time either. He may have been too grief-stricken to write, or he may have felt that these events and the sorrow associated with them were too personal to commit to paper. Interpreting silence is one of the more difficult tasks associated with using diaries as a source. In the period studied, then, we are able to discover much about family life from diaries, largely because they are general in nature and place the individual in the context of his or her family and social circle. We are seldom able to plumb the depths of the psyche through these journals, but what we lose in knowledge of the individual, we gain in detail as to the social environment. Although in many journals there are moments that do focus on emotion, it is the social life of the individual that seems consistently to be given priority. Family correspondence, the preserve of a small elite in the eighteenth century, expanded tremendously in the nineteenth century; European historians have focused attention on family correspondence as an act of cultural history and its role in the creation of identity. It played an important role in the rise of the middle class since communication was the key to maintaining family links, soliciting patronage, and sharing a family culture as well as information. Family correspondence must be distinguished from love letters, both of which can often be found in family papers. With the exception of the courtship letters discussed in chapter 1, the correspondence examined here falls into the first category. Family correspondence links members of the extended family or kinship group and acts to facilitate the circulation of information, goods and services; it did not easily allow for much in the way of personal confidences and opinions. The more intimate exchanges exemplified by love letters tended to disassociate the writer from the family network and daily life, focusing exclusively on the relationship being created. There are parallels, therefore, to the intimate journal. 35 Based on the analysis of a large corpus of bourgeois family letters, Cecile Dauphin, Pierrette LeBrun-Pezerat, and Daniele Poublan have demonstrated that family correspondence tends to follow certain patterns. Their analysis is a useful introduction to family correspondence and helps us to read some of its more subtle messages. Greetings helped to establish the level of intimacy. The choice of whom to address and how to address them was also significant. The endings of letters offered another opportunity to indicate the level of affection one had for the person and for the family group surrounding that person. Most letters refer to that group, usually individually by name, in the closing. Letters frequently set the scene of the actual writing, and this indicated the writers' intimacy with the person they were writing to.36 Women might

8

FAMILY LIFE AND S O C I A B I L I T Y

refer to their state of undress, for example. These patterns generally hold true for the correspondence we have examined. We have also found that a sharp contrast existed between the scene set by men writing home and that set by women. Robert Hoyle, for example, wrote from his Quebec City boarding house, alone in his room at night, often with a poor pen, evoking sympathy for his solitary situation. Women tended to write while surrounded by other people and were often interrupted by children or servants. Letters to absent family members are written because of the need to communicate and to maintain the links with that person. The relationship thus has to find expression in words. According to Dauphin, LeBrun-Pezerat, and Poublan, this results in a pact between the correspondents that can be seen in four elements of the exchange. First, the letter must close the gap created by the absence of the other. It does this by creating a symbolic presence or a fictive encounter. Letters speak of the absence either directly or in more symbolic ways relating to time and space; thus a house is empty or time goes slowly without the loved one. The letters to absent spouses examined in chapter 4 show much evidence of this. Second, the letter expresses pleasure at the communication. Long letters are appreciated. Flattery and gratitude may be expressed in the hope of getting more letters. Third, letters evaluate the cost of the exchange. It takes time to write. There may not be anything to say. The writer may make excuses. Fourth, letters address the actual rhythm of the exchange. Most letters refer to the last letter received, the last letter sent, and the letters hoped for. Letters might be numbered, especially if there was doubt as to whether or not they would be received.37 In many cases, the significance of writing and receiving letters according to a regular pattern is evident; regularity helped individuals to deal with the absence of their loved one. The irregularity of the post was thus troubling to some because when an anticipated letter failed to arrive, they feared the worse. My examination of family correspondence also confirms the point made by Dauphin et al. that letters, although usually exchanged between two individuals, create links between a much wider family group. Some letters were written by more than one person. Husbands or children, for example, might add a few words to a letter written by a spouse. Letters between husbands and wives might be read to the entire family, which is why it was sometimes necessary to ask that a certain section be kept private. Letters might also have multiple recipients.38 In some cases this intention was made explicit in the letter itself. In other cases the letters were evidently circulated and read by a larger group.39 Asking for a service or to pass a message to someone else also helped to reinforce family unity. Dauphin et al. found that 85

INTRODUCTION

9

per cent of the letters in their corpus included one or more such request.40 Since only certain people in the wider family network exchanged letters, the voice of the individual author was often mixed with those of others in the family circle. But while letters linked a wider group than the two individuals doing the writing, the actual authors derived certain benefits. It was their point of view which was expressed. For the married women who took on letter-writing almost as a domestic task, it could affirm their social role. It also helped them to express themselves as individuals.41 Thus letters can provide a great deal of information about the persons writing and a much wider circle of family members and friends. Because they deal with absence and because they were the vehicles by which absent family members were informed of illness and death, they are often rich in emotive material. The letters of Robert Hoyle to his wife, Eliza, were instrumental in drawing my attention to the potential of family letters for the history of the family and, more particularly, couple and parent-child relationships.41 In the process I also became aware of the large collection of pre-Confederation family papers at the National Archives in Ottawa. Although much of this collection has been used extensively, prior to Peter Ward's study of courtship, family letters tended to be used for the light they shed on politics and business rather than on the family itself.43 (Katherine McKenna's biography of Anne Powell remains one of the few works based on the extensive use of family papers for Canada in the early nineteenth century,44 although Ward brought attention to family papers as a source much earlier.) Having decided to explore letters and diaries to learn more about the nature of family in the early nineteenth century, I turned first to this manuscript group. I examined those collections that included significant family correspondence or diaries for the period before 1870, retaining for further study those in which the recipients or the writers were located in Upper or Lower Canada. This material was supplemented by diaries and family papers found in the Archives of Ontario collections45 and published sources. Family papers contain many different types of correspondence, with examples of letters to and from every possible family relationship.46 In order to present as broad a picture as possible of family life in this period, I had an interest in finding letters from as many different types of correspondents as possible. Letters exchanged regularly over a period of time, however, provide a greater wealth of information and context than individual letters. Although I have drawn information from a large number of letters,47 therefore, I have also presented some of the better-documented relationships in more detail. For courtship, for

10

FAMILY LIFE AND

SOCIABILITY

example, I have made use of two sets of letters. The first were those exchanged between Jane Van Norman, a teacher at the Burlington Academy, and Dunham Emery, a widowed farmer.48 Letters from both are found in the collection, which adds to their value. I have also used the letters of William Douglas, a lawyer establishing a new practice in Chatham, and Jane Hudson of Toronto, the daughter of Captain Richard H. Hudson, a marine architect, and Julia Connor. William Douglas was the youngest son of a Scottish emigrant who had settled in Percy Township in 1851.49 Unfortunately, the collection includes only three of Jane Van Norman's courtship letters to him. William's correspondence with his brothers has also been used as an example of sibling correspondence as has that of Caroline Price Hewlett to her brother William Price, the well-known timber merchant of Quebec and later the Saguenay.50 To look at the relationship between spouses after marriage, I turned to the correspondence of couples who for various reasons were separated for extended periods of time after their marriage, forcing them to maintain their relationship through correspondence. Robert Hoyle of Lacolle, Lower Canada, was a farmer, small businessman, politician, and customs officer for Stanstead. Of English origin, he and his brother Henry immigrated first to the United States, coming to Canada at the time of the War of 1812.. Robert's second wife was Eliza Nye, an American whose brothers had established themselves in Lacolle and Montreal.51 Marcus and Lydia Child were Americans who settled in the Eastern Townships where Marcus ran a farm and store and also became a member of the House of Assembly.51 Susanna Moodie, the well-known author of Roughing it in the Bush, and her husband, John Dunbar Moodie, a half-pay military officer and gentry farmer, exchanged numerous letters when he joined the militia to fight in the Rebellions and more occasionally both before and after.53 Reine Duvernay wrote regularly to her husband, Ludger Duvernay, the patriote editor of La Minerve and member of the Assembly for Lachenaie, while he was in exile in the United States at the time of the Rebellions.54 I found the correspondence between separated spouses with children to be especially rich in terms of childhood and the care of children, and that of Moodie and Duvernay in particular has been highlighted in section 2. Correspondence between parents and their older children was also of interest. Several of the letters to Patrick Martin, a Catholic farmer in Tyendinaga Township in Upper Canada, are from his daughter Mary Call, a widow operating a farm on her own in Marysburgh Township and sometimes calling on her family for help. A few letters are from Patrick's son William L. Martin, a carpenter who worked in

INTRODUCTION

II

the United States and later in Havannah, Cuba. 55 Phebe and Joseph Pringle, farmers in Fredericksburgh, Upper Canada, wrote to their son William Anson, a school teacher in Whitby.56 Two of Georginna Forrest's sons involved in surveying in the Ottawa area wrote to her regularly, as did her daughter, Mary Anne Jourdain, whose family faced economic difficulty after moving to Philadelphia.57 The Westcott-Papineau collection contains by far the most extensive collection of such letters.58 Mary Eleanor Westcott, the daughter of James Westcott, a merchant from Saratoga Springs, New York, moved to Montreal after she married Amedee Papineau, the son of patriote leader Louis-Joseph Papineau. She exchanged letters with her father regularly for the remainder of his life. As well as illuminating a strong father-daughter relationship, Mary's letters shed light on many aspects of family life in the bourgeois circle of the Papineau family and have been used here extensively in conjunction with her husband's journal. 59 Shorter collections, single letters that broke long periods of silence, and letters that reflected tensions and conflicts within the family were also examined. In the correspondence of the McCallum family of Scotland and Lacolle,60 discussed in chapter n, for example, one finds evidence of both mutual assistance and conflict. By and large, however, the letters in these collections tend to reflect a positive and affectionate relationship between the persons writing. This is not surprising: in the nineteenth century, family correspondence was used to maintain family and kinship links as well as more intimate relationships in the face of emigration and other forms of separation. Those who quarrelled with their families were less likely to write, and their letters, if any, were less likely to be kept. Dauphin et al. have described letters accumulated by a family as their "symbolic capital," carefully maintained for future generations.61 Portraits were another important part of a family's heritage. References to having a likeness made abound in the sources examined, especially once photography made this possible for a greater number of people. Prior to the advent of photography, the more affluent bourgeois families had formal portraits painted in oil, usually of the husband and wife separately, but designed to hang as a pair. Pastels, miniatures, and silhouettes were within the reach of an even greater number.61 In some cases these early paintings and photographs were donated to archives along with family papers. Others remained in the family much longer, but were eventually acquired by an archive or art gallery and are now available to the public. A number of portraits and family pictures, among them several from the Joseph and the Papineau family, have been reproduced here to illustrate these trends.63 The

12.

F A M I L Y L I F E AND S O C I A B I L I T Y

Papineau family portraits include more and earlier oil paintings than those of the Joseph family. Both had a large number of photographs taken early on, many of them available in the Notman collection of the McCord Museum. I have also included examples of portraits by Theophile Hamel,64 whose paintings reflect, perhaps more than others, the rise of the childcentred affectionate family in this period. Hamel shows both mothers and fathers in affectionate poses with their children. An example of this is Madame Jean-Baptiste Renaud (fig. 6.1). Hamel delighted in painting children.65 His paintings are evocative of the playfulness of childhood as well as being an excellent iconographic source for children's costumes. Although I have tried not to limit this study to any one social group, the nature of the sources has resulted in a bias in favour of those with more education, and at a minimum, the ability to write. Thus it is essentially white middle-class families who are studied here. Within this group, however, much diversity remains. A few demonstrated great facility for language; others could write only with effort. Most fell somewhere in between. Some correspondents lived in urban places, others on farms and in rural villages. A few were recent immigrants; others were from established Canadian and Canadien families. A few were Catholics; most were Protestants of different denominations; one was Jewish. Some were highly religious, others less so. I recognize that these differences affected some aspects of their family life and have not tried to imply that they all behaved in the same way. I also found that there could be remarkable similarities between people from quite different cultural backgrounds. Reine Duvernay and Susanna Moodie, for example, despite the extreme opposites of their husbands' politics, lived the Rebellion years in a surprisingly similar fashion. The childhood diseases their children faced were much the same, and both women suffered from breast infection after the birth of their last child. They both were very fond of their husbands and found their time apart painful. Living in less than ideal conditions while waiting for their husbands to return, they were often at the mercy of assistance from friends and neighbours. Thus although these two women and their families travelled in different social circles and were unlikely to ever meet, they had much in common. I have tried to find those elements which families shared, as well as to show the range of experiences that existed. As much as possible I have tried to give a voice to these writers rather than speak for them. The daily preoccupations of those whose "life writing" is examined here have helped to shape the content and the structure of this study. Love and marriage were of great significance to them. So were their

INTRODUCTION

13

children, both when they were young and after they left home. Throughout the writers' lives they had to cope with illness and death, and in their letters and diaries they grieved sometimes silently, sometimes with effusive outpourings. Religion and the belief that they would be reunited one day with loved ones helped many of them to cope with their losses. Most of all, however, they depended on each other. On occasions of illness and death, marriage and birth, family, kin, neighbours, and friends were there to support them. Their social space was filled by both males and females and young and old, sometimes those of other religions, and even those of another language and culture. The world they described was therefore the antithesis to the view put forward, based on prescriptive literature, of "separate spheres."66 The major conclusion of this study is that the family life of the literate classes in the Canadas before 1870 was not located in the narrow private world of the domestic sphere but in a much broader social space67 shared by people of both genders and all ages. This study of family life begins with the couple. Although it starts with courtship and engagement, it is able to go beyond Peter Ward's study by looking at the actual nature of the wedding ceremonies, the marriage trips that followed, and the relationship of couples after marriage, both in terms of their housekeeping arrangements and their affective life. It reveals that in the nineteenth century young people had considerable latitude in choosing a mate and expected love to be the basis of their marriage. Because of the significance of marriage to the kinship network, however, parents were concerned with the choices their children made.68 When young people met within the family's social circle, this was seldom a problem. Not every courtship followed the established rules, however, and there was still room for love at first sight, as the case of William Douglas shows. The second section of this study is devoted to the relationship between parents and children. The affection between couples that was the foundation of their marriage translated into mutual concern and love of their children. Fathers were sometimes present at childbirth. They played with their children, watched their growth with pleasure, and cared for them when they were ill. Most births went smoothly, but couples also had to deal with miscarriages, complications at birth, and the loss of a child in infancy. High infant mortality notwithstanding, parents were often emotionally devastated by the loss of an infant. Establishing their children in life was an important goal for most parents. The nature of my sources allows for the study of parent-child relationships after the children left home. These relationships could vary considerably, of course. Some parents and children had little or no contact for years; some remained close. There is perhaps no greater

14

FAMILY L I F E AND S O C I A B I L I T Y

testimonial to the ongoing relationship between parents and children well after the children leave home than in the care of elderly parents; the Douglas correspondence provides us with a poignant example of this. Probably the strongest parent-child relationship here is that between James Westcott and his daughter, Mary, which ended only with his death. Theirs was an emotional link that they chose to maintain, not one based on material need. Finally, this study explores family sociability and the social networks that bound families to kin, friends, and neighbours. Family sociability was seldom restricted to the domestic circle, and there is little evidence that the domestication of holidays such as Thanksgiving and the creation of family rituals around birthdays and anniversaries had progressed to the same extent as it had in the United States at this time. Funerals were probably the most important ritual families engaged in, but these were less domestic rituals than a reaffirmation of the place of the family in the community. The rites of mourning were generally observed, allowing families space for their grieving. The emotional and religious reaction to death, however, was often shared with others within their intimate circle. Most families were involved in a constant round of calling and visiting between neighbours, friends, and relatives. New Year's calls were particularly significant, having become highly formalized by tradition. Private parties and entertainment brought friends and relatives together throughout the year but especially in the winter months. Family groups also attended community events such as fairs, circuses, public lectures, and sermons. Perhaps the most important social activity, because of its regularity, was church attendance. This provided a frequent opportunity to meet others, to visit after church, and to walk to or from church as a group. My findings on visiting are in accord with Karen Hansen's in her study of working people in nineteenth-century New England: "the number and frequency of visitors to homes astonishes any new reader of antebellum diaries." 69 Visiting should be seen as one of the major ways in which kinship and social networks were created and maintained. Hansen points out that visiting "must be understood as integral to alternative economies, as a welfare system executed without the state, as a conduit for exchanging ideas and opinions, and as a network for emotional and psychological support that linked individuals to one another." 7° In the Canadas this pattern is evident from the system of reciprocity and mutual assistance that existed between family members and their relatives, friends,71 and neighbours. The members of the nuclear family were seldom isolated from a larger community of relatives they could turn to for comfort and advice and, more often than

INTRODUCTION

15

not, assistance. As many families had relatives living at some distance, however, correspondence played a key role in maintaining these kinship ties.72 That so many examples of family correspondence have survived 150 to 200 years later is a testimony to significance of that process, not only at the time but to the generations who followed. This history could not have been written without the care they took to preserve their family heritage. As much as possible in the account that follows, I have tried to let their voices be heard.

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PART ONE

The Couple

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I

Courtship and Engagement

In 1817 Cecile Pasteur wrote to a friend in Montreal that she had "fired" her lover because she did not love him. Her mother and her brother, who wanted to see the match succeed because the man was rich, had reproached her for doing so. "But I do not think like that," she added, "and I will never give my hand without giving my heart."1 Forty years later, Jane Price's wedding to a Mr Campbell was cancelled at the last minute when the groom backed out. Jane was understandably devastated. Her Aunt Caroline Hewlett, who was able to look at things from a more objective perspective from the other side of the Atlantic, reflected on the matter, I truly feel for her wounded feelings but they will be soothed, and softened by so much family tenderness, and commiseration, that I doubt not her womanly spirit will soon rise superior to vain regrets, and she will recoil from the idea of giving herself to a man who thus, at the 11/th hour, so allows his ardor to cool, as to make his boasted love give way to unimpassioned prudence, - she is well quit, I think, of one who cannot have any fixed character or principles, what security could she have for due protection, and solace under the trials of life with a man of such wayward fickle mind? ... I may now tell you that from the first I looked upon it as anything but a subject of congratulation, - from all I heard of Mr. Campbell he appeared to me from his youth, habits, and insufficiency of means, to be wholly unworthy of Jane, who ought in her husband to have a man of equal talent with herself, a companion. & friend, in whom she could confide as the stay, & support of her future life.2

Both of these letters support the notion of companionate marriage that by the nineteenth century had displaced earlier concepts of marriage choices based primarily on economic motives.3 When individuals in this period spoke of the need to marry for love, they did not mean

2O

THE C O U P L E

that they would cast reason aside and choose a mate solely on the basis of passion or sexual attraction. Although this was one of the factors to be considered, men and women were warned against falling for the charms of the coquette or the seducer. Couples were advised to look for virtues such as kindness, industriousness, and temperance in men and good temper and patience in women. Nineteenth-century conduct books presented love "more as a product of marriage than its prerequisite."4 As Caroline Hewlett's letter clearly expresses, the husband should be a companion and friend as well as a support for his wife. This was most likely to be possible if they started off as equals. Thus economic considerations were not negated by the search for someone who could fulfil these requirements. Wealth in and of itself, however, was not a sufficient reason to marry. Mary Hallen, from rural Upper Canada, expressed a similar sentiment to that of Cecile Pasteur when she commented on the marriage of a friend, "it must be a melancholy thing for her marrying without love has she as done. I can conceive of nothing more dreadful, but peoples tastes are not all the same & I have heard some people say that those sort of matches turn out happyer than love marriages but I cannot fancy it & think it far too great an experiment to be tried."5 Once love became the basis for marriage, the role of parents in the mate selection of their children declined, but they continued to maintain some control over the process.6 The significance of marriage as an entry point into the family kinship network meant that parents could not afford to be indifferent to the choices their children made. A spouse did not come into a marriage alone but with all of his or her kinship and social networks. To accept the spouse was to accept those networks. It is not surprising, then, that not just parents but friends also would guard the entry points into their social circle.7 Those of high social status would be particularly concerned, but all social groups maintained themselves in a similar fashion. Religion, for example, was often the basis of exclusion or inclusion. Economic considerations were also important. Marrying for love was well and good, but parents of daughters especially wanted to know they would be adequately supported. A letter from James Caldwell, father of Mary Caldwell, to the father of the man she hoped to marry, William Lindsay, illustrates this. He admitted that he knew nothing of the matter beforehand (although his wife did, and he was not pleased this had been concealed from him). Thus he was surprised to get a letter from Lindsay on the subject, "not having had the least intonation of an attachment between your son & my daughter, nor did I ever perceive any thing that could excite an idea that it existed - Mrs C- denies having given him any encouragement, but acknowledges that he spoke to her on the subject (a circumstance

C O U R T S H I P AND E N G A G E M E N T

2.1

Fig. i. i Cornelius Krieghoff, Officier courtisant une jeune fille, c. 1850. Oil on canvas, 34.6 x 28.z cm. Collection Musee du Quebec, no. 59.591 (photographer, Patrick Altman). This painting romanticizes the courtship of an officer and a young girl.

that I was never informed of) & she treated it with ridicule & laughed at him as a boy." James would have stopped the courtship if he had known. A match with the Lindsay family was not the problem, but the young Lindsay's age and economic situation was: "[A]t his age, and in his present situation, a wife most assuredly would entail poverty 8c misery upon him, her, & their offspring! - " James was therefore glad that William Lindsay was of the same mind: "I have informed my daughter that she must give up every idea of a communion so very improper at their time of life."8 A letter from Mary to Lieutenant Lindsay later that year indicates that their parents were beginning to waiver. Her father would agree to the marriage as long as his father and her uncle consented and if he had something besides his pay. She, on the other hand, was brought up to live frugally and reassured him that his pay would be sufficient. She

22.

THE C O U P L E

added: "[M]y Uncle ought to remember when he married that his fortune was that small but that prevented him not from being happy, it is not always money that brings happiness.9 In the case of adult children already living away from home, usually males, the parents might have little say in the question of whom they married. Eliza Bellamy simply noted without comment in her diary on 3 August 1855, "had a Letter from Wm, informing me of a certain event, to take place in Septr." Others found out about their children's marriage only after the fact. John Ashworth, for example, who as a result of his parents' separation had lost contact with his father, wrote to him from Montreal two years later to tell him about his marriage: In September 182.0 I married Miss Sophia Caldwell, a daughter of the late Mr Jas Caldwell a most respectable merchant of this city, she has a small income, & is in every respect the Woman that my most sanguine wishes could have hoped for as a partner thro life, so far our happiness has been as complete as it is possible for it to be on this side the grave & I have not the slightest doubt that it will continue so, my little wife possesses the most amiable disposition, & my temper has not yet been much soured with the crosses & troubles of this world, we have not at present any family, tho' there is every probability that we shall have, as my Sophia has been peculiarly unfortunate in having had two miscarriages.10

Although his father was not part of the decision-making process, this letter suggests that John was fully aware of the kinds of considerations his father would have wanted him to have, and that these had actually been met. His wife was of the right social class, she had made an economic contribution to the match, and she had the right temperament. That she had failed to give him children was seen as a temporary problem only. In fact their son, also John Ashworth, was born in 18x4." Reference to his wife's two miscarriages in a period when women often neglected to mention their pregnancy to their husbands or in their own diaries, suggests the weight John and his father must have placed on the ability to have children. This example suggests that when children had been successfully socialized with the values the parents wanted them to have, they would behave according to those values even in the absence of their parents. Young people who were still at home socialized as part of family groups and with friends of the family. Hence, there were few opportunities for them to meet prospective spouses who were unacceptable to their parents. Those women who did meet men who were not very well known to them would have investigated the man's character before

COURTSHIP AND ENGAGEMENT

Z3

deciding to allow that person to court them." Given the role families played in the social and economic lives of most individuals, it is easy to see that children would seek their parents' approval for their marital choices. They would not want to risk being cut off from the network of assistance and sociability around which their lives revolved. A notable exception to this were the two daughters of John Nairne, seigneur of Murray Bay, who were cut off from their family relations as a result of their marriage choices.13 The diaries and correspondence of young women such as Ann Wrong and Frances Tweedie give us insight into the early phase of mate selection and the context in which it usually took place. Both were involved in a large amount of socializing that on the surface appears to have been subject to very little supervision. This was undoubtedly because it occurred within a known group of family and family friends. Some outings brought together groups of young people, but most took place in mixed groups of young and old. In such a context there was no need to restrict the activities of the young people beyond the rules of respectability. As these young adults got older, couples formed within the group and one by one, they began to marry. An entry from Frances Tweedie's diary suggests that this required little comment: "Wet day as usual. Em & Dick married; no person but Di Murry & Mr Yarnold, very quiet; all puckered up both alike. Fine evening."14 In this context the individual choice of a partner did not have to be monitored by parents, since any of the non-family young people in the group would have been considered suitable. Courtship is a rather private affair usually carried out in person. It therefore tends to leave little trace unless one of the persons involved happened to keep a diary. Courtship could also take place over short distances, in which case correspondence between the couple was likely. Unfortunately not all collections of courtship letters include both sides of the correspondence, making it more difficult to evaluate both sides of the relationship. Even with limitations, however, these letters show that courtship involved getting to know the other person better, and provided the opportunity for a deepening of the relationship. During this period the couple willingly discussed a number of subjects including religion, morality, and the nature of marriage. This open communication and revelation of self was the essential component of intimacy.15 Once a couple detached from the group, the attitude seems to have been that they would be married unless some insurmountable difficulty emerged. A change of mind in the early phases of courtship might only raise eyebrows, but the longer it continued, the greater the expectation was that it would lead to marriage. Despite this expectation,

2-4

THE COUPLE

Fig. 1.2, Robert Hoyle's letter to Eliza Nye, dated 6 October 1831, proposing marriage. Courtesy of Robert Van Vliet Nicholls.

relationships ended for a number of reasons, and even in the face of social displeasure. John Wells noted in his diary that his friend John Wright was "giving up Miss Brown and wants to go in for Miss Ferris."16 Although he did not record his own feelings on this matter, he later noted that "they think little John a 'skunk' in England for letting down Miss Brown."17 Their friends also worried that John might face a breach-of-promise suit. Thus Wells noted in his diary: "I am advised to make a note of a discourse I had with Miss Mary White some time since in which she told me that if ever Tom [John?] chose to change his mind about marrying her he was at full liberty to do so and she should not think any the worse of him."18 The rituals of courtship were open to the possibility of misunderstandings and disappointments. In a letter to his friend, Ludger Duvernay, Lieutenant Dumesnil claimed to have courted for two years a woman who had simply been using him for the presents he gave her, spending above his means to do so. When she unexpectedly arrived in Montreal, he had paid for her trip and bought her jewellery. He later found out that she had actually arrived two days earlier and felt betrayed in his trust, ruing the day he had chosen someone so unworthy of his sentiments of generosity. He seems to imply that his disap-

COURTSHIP AND E N G A G E M E N T

2-5

Fig. 1.3 Letter from Eliza Nye to Col. Hoyle, dated 6 October [1831]. Courtesy of Robert Van Vliet Nicholls.

pointment was the reason for his subsequent behaviour - or perhaps he was simply bragging. He first made overtures to a Scottish woman of a respectable family, but he decided to back off to avoid a scandal and went instead for a young Irish girl. Having become a self-admitted "wolf in sheep's clothing," he went through four more victims in the next six weeks.19 The frankness of his letters is surprising, perhaps because we have not seen many examples of men writing to their male friends. In his case at least, adherence to the norms of propriety was superficial, to say the least, and certainly not based on religious conviction. Dumesnil knew enough not to prey on women of his own social group as this would reflect badly on him, but he seems to have had few qualms about approaching women of a lower social class. The question of male attitudes towards sexuality and how this related to their own sense of masculinity remains largely unexplored in the Canadian context. Once couples knew each other well enough to make a commitment to marriage, they became engaged. Robert Hoyle put his proposal to Eliza Nye in writing, even though they were both present (fig. 1.2). Both his inquiry and her response were very formal (fig. 1.3). After this stage, couples could not change their minds except for very serious

2.6

THE C O U P L E

reasons.20 During their engagement they got to know each other better and began to make plans for their marriage. In the Canadas this usually meant setting up a separate household. Since this could take some time, depending on their circumstances, the engagement could last for several months or even longer. Engagements of several years, however, seem to have been rare. THE COUPLES

We turn now to a discussion of actual courtships based on diaries and correspondence. Those of Frances Tweedie and Anne Wrong, especially, exemplify the point we have made about young people socializing within the social network of their family and thus requiring little supervision. Abraham Joseph, being Jewish and wanting to marry a Jewess, faced the difficult situation that most of the young ladies in his social circle in Quebec were not of that faith. From Jane Van Norman's correspondence with her fiance, we can see how the period of engagement was one in which they could get to know each other more intimately and find out if they shared similar views about marriage. William Douglas's courtship proceeds along familiar lines. What is unusual in this case is the way in which he meets the woman he is attracted to, Jane Hudson. The courtship of Mary Westcott and Amedee Papineau, on the other hand, exemplifies the struggle a couple could face when they fell in love across religious boundaries. Frances Tweedie As a young adult, Frances Tweedie lived with her parents in Whitby, Upper Canada, and kept a diary in which she recorded the events of each day. These might include the work she had done, the people she had seen, and any news she had heard regarding her friends and relatives. Most entries were short and seldom referred to her feelings. She mentions her future husband, William Milne, for the first time in 1867. His sister Hannah was a friend of hers, and this may not have been their first meeting, but on that day he had acted as her "beau" when she went to a spree with a friend. She simply noted, "in afternoon got to tea, had a gay time, we each got beaus - Ems Miller, mine Milne, gay fellows, had a splendid time goinge & coming. Many things said & done."21 Milne was not mentioned again until the next fall when he came with his sister to join a group of friends going to the fair. Frances again "had a gay time."22 The festivities continued for several days. After another day at the fair, she stayed over at the Milnes', but again there is nothing in her diary entry to single out William Milne from the

C O U R T S H I P AND E N G A G E M E N T

27

group: "We all went out to Fair. Met a few from Whitby, met Dickson for a wonder. Came down to Milnes that night, had quite a ball after we went up stairs."23 Her social life did not change at this time, and a month later she was attending the St. Andrew's Festival and "had a big flirt, G.B.G." Early in 1868 she was courted by Dave Fraser.14 He moved away and the last time she saw him was in June. She described their parting briefly: "Our last words alone, both felt our parting hard, recalled our 1st & short acquaintance, our short but happy time, last fond look for some time. Felt bad enough coming home."25 Although she referred to being lonely in the next few days, this would not last long. Even before Dave left, she had received a letter from "W.A.M.," who then began to join his sister Hannah more often on her visits. On 18 July, Frances noted for the first time that she had spent time alone with William: "Out on green in evening, left alone, Wm & I. Retired at two, strange feelings that night. The heat awful, a little breeze. Hannah tearing around forenoon, layed on bed all afternoon. An odd day in all."26 Although there is a hint in this entry that something has happened, one would not know on this evidence alone that this was the day they became engaged. It is only because Frances referred back to that day two years later, after she had married Milne, that we know this to be the case. After this, however, the references to him in her diary increased and they began to spend more time alone together. The following day, for example, they left Hannah at home when they went for a walk, which lasted all afternoon. 27 The fact that he was courting her became increasingly evident in her diary. Many of their activities and meetings, however, continued to occur within larger groups, such as when William came to help her and others pick cherries (22 July), or when she assisted at his barn-raising. She described that day as follows: "The raising of Wm's barn. H. & I flying around, Mrs. Milne down, game of croquet in the evening, Wm Rolph down & Brown, a gay promenade evening in the garden."28 William began to visit her more regularly, often coming over on a Saturday, and staying over until Sunday or even Monday, every second week or so. The first time he appeared, her folks were "surprised a little,"29 but he quickly became part of their evenings, playing cards with them if they did not go out. The couple also wrote to each other between his visits. That year there would be no flirting at the St Andrew's Festival: "ST. Andrew's day Festival. Milnes, Findlays & we all there. Great crowd as usual."30 The Scarboro crowd, of which William was part, did not go home again until 3 December. He visited her one more time before Christmas, and although she was busy with holiday preparations, she was lonely when he left. He did not spend

Z8

THE C O U P L E

Christmas day with her, but returned on the evening of 26 December, a Saturday. Although her diary entries are short and give little detail, Frances Tweedie documents what can be considered a traditional courtship. She met her future husband as part of a group of friends, and her early contact with him was based on those friendships. Some time passed before he decided to court her, and the nature of the relationship changed. Only after they became engaged did he visit her specifically, and they also began to spend time alone together. Frances does not seem to have informed her parents of her engagement. Ann Wrong Ann Elizabeth Wrong was the daughter of a Loyalist farmer whose farm was at Groves End, near Vienna in Bayham Township north of Lake Erie. In the summer of 1847 she was twenty-three years old, single, and teaching school in the village near her parents' farm. Ann Wrong also travelled in a circle of family and friends that included her brothers and their friends. Most of her activities were in these mixed groups. She does, however, make frequent references to her most persistent caller, Mr Douglass.31 Many of the references to him simply indicate that he was one of the party for an excursion such as their rides on the lake. He also sometimes called at their home, and this individual attention did not escape notice. Ann wrote: "Mr. D. called a few moments at evening. I don't see why people need tease me so much about him but I don't care and what is more I won't care about it."32 Other than the frequent references to him, there is little in the diary to indicate how Ann Wrong feels about Mr Douglass, or even that she is aware that he is her suitor. But she was aware of calling convention: "Mr. D. made us a call last evening, I was in most delightful 'dishabile'. On account of the heat I had donned my 'robe de nuit'. I did not apologize nor run away either as is practiced by some."33 On another occasion she entertained Mr Douglass by herself when Murray (her brother?) went to bed early. They ate watermelon and went on to discuss books and stories. He "did not appear to think it 'out of order, to put out his oxen and stop the evening,'" but she was a little concerned about how this would look to others: "What would some of the folks say did they know this. I suppose I should have been 'clean gone forever' in the estimation of some good folks. I should be sorry to do anything wrong and matters and manners I should mend."34 It is noteworthy that nowhere in her diary does Ann confide her feelings regarding Mr Douglass or on her prospects for marriage. Her reflections on such questions are oblique, and there is no way to know

COURTSHIP AND ENGAGEMENT

29

of whom she was thinking when she wrote. After a picnic at Aylmer, for example, she reflected on "a day devoted to pleasure": "we must not expect to find perfection in mortals. Our diamonds turn out to be but common pebbles. We grieve to find all is not gold that glitters."35 Was she thinking of anyone in particular? There is no way to know. Some time later she felt "Forsaken - Dejected & sorrowful," but not without "Hope."36 Again, there is no indication of the cause of these feelings. It is only from an annotation on the diary, therefore, that we know that Ann would eventually marry Mr Douglass. Like Frances Tweedie's, her diary has little to say about her feelings and emotions. It is a journal in which she jots the important events in her life. Each week she teaches school without much enthusiasm and looks forward to Saturday evening and Sunday when things worthy of note usually happen in her life. Although Mr Douglass is often part of those events and activities, there is little indication that his presence gives them more significance. In the case of both Tweedie and Wrong, one can see how young people who were part of the same social circle could meet and engage in group activities for a considerable period of time without considering courtship. Once a young man reached the point where he wanted to get married and had the economic ability to do so, however, he would look at the women in his group from a different perspective. If one of them appealed to him, he would then initiate more contact and eventually seek time alone with her. If he was accepted, the courtship would proceed. Abraham Joseph Abraham Joseph was born in Berthier-en-Haut, Quebec, where his father, Henry Joseph (fig. 1.4), had a thriving business. His mother, Rachael Solomons (fig. 1.5), was the daughter of a Montreal merchant and fur trader, Lucius Levy Solomons. They had four sons and five daughters. 37 The family later moved to Montreal. When Henry Joseph died of cholera in 1832., the family business was inherited by the eldest son, Jacob Henry. Abraham assisted his brother and in 1837, at the age of twenty-two, moved to Quebec City to take control of the Quebec branch of the family tobacco and snuff import business.38 He boarded at Lemoine's and quickly developed an active social life among Quebec's elite, primarily but not exclusively with those who were English speaking. He belonged to a number of societies and clubs including the St George Society, the Literary and Historical Society, and the Quebec Debating Club. He lived a bachelor lifestyle, in the winter frequently playing cards, often until two in the morning, sometimes losing a small sum of money, sometimes winning.

30

THE COUPLE

Fig. 1.4 Henry Joseph, silhouette portrait. NAC PA-Z 10812., copy print from the Henry Joseph Family Collection. Silhouettes, less expensive than full portraits, were popular prior to the advent of photography.

He dined with friends, attended parties and balls, went on sleighing parties in the winter and picnics and boating excursions in the summer.39 He always noticed who was the finest "girl" present and carefully noted in his journal who he had danced with. His entry for 14 November 1839 is representative: [R]eceived an invite for the eveng from P. Sheppard - I had never been in his house - have known him near two years - not yet introduced to Madam - ... I met some very fine girls there - No i is Miss Stewart - Miss Sheppard comes under the same class - there were also Misses Burroughs, Austin, Bender and

COURTSHIP AND ENGAGEMENT

31

Fig. 1.5 Rachael Solomons Joseph, wife of Henry Joseph, and Abraham Joseph's mother, was the daughter of a prominent Montreal merchant. NAC PA-2 10814, copy print from the Henry Joseph Family Collection.

Perrault -1 danced with the above 6-1 remember only a few more names - Van Felson, McLean (a pretty girl) Bender etc etc about 30 in all -1 danced with Miss Stewart 3 times & was otherwise attentive to her - Altho' not very handsome the finest girl there - there was lots of dancing. I left at 1/2. past i - having handed Miss S - to her carriage. We have made a bet of a pair of gloves. She bets she will recognise me in the street when we meet & I bet I will recognise her.40 At most balls the quadrilles seem to have outnumbered the waltzes, and only occasionally was there a "gallop" or a country dance. Walking and driving were also important social activities in Quebec, a way to see

32

THE COUPLE

Fig. 1.6 R.A. Sproule, Quebec/Lower Canada, Vue de I'Esplanade et des Fortifications de Quebec, 1832. NAC 0-98733. The Esplanade was a popular place to walk in Quebec.

and be seen. When Lord Durham took up residence in the House of Assembly, for example, the Grand Battery became "the fashionable walk."41 The "Esplanade Walk" (fig. 1.6) was also a favourite, and many young ladies walked there routinely.41 Abraham returned home to Montreal to celebrate major Jewish holidays such as Passover with his family, who were members of the Shearith Israel congregation.43 A few of his Quebec friends may have noticed that he never accepted invitations on Friday evenings, always claiming a prior engagement.44 Because of religious food laws, he also declined most of the oyster parties which were frequent at certain times of the year: "Oysters are now and have been for a week the nightly suppers. As I eat none I cannot join much their suppers to which I am frequently very much pressed in vain."45 These seem to have been the only limitations that being Jewish placed on his social life. As a young affluent merchant, Abraham sought to make a social statement through his dress, his manners, his dancing skills, and the manner of his transportation. In December 1839 he signed up for waltzing and French lessons and made arrangements to have a special sleigh built.46 This splendid vehicle was designed to be noticed, and it was. My new vehicle consists of a long sleigh on high runners - on the front is a Unicorn's head beautifully carved by McKenzie & Bowls - his two hoofs rest-

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ing on a scrawl in front of the sleigh - his head turned towards the seat - he being in a rising posture - A brass chain is attached to his neck 8c passes over his back - the unicorn is painted a cream white mane - collar & hoofs gilt pannels of the sleigh are white with a gold border - the sleigh itself is painted black with light color'd runners.47

His first sortie on 17 January 1840 caused "quite a sensation," and crowds gathered to see it. The same was true the following Sunday. He was told that over two hundred persons, both ladies and gentlemen, had stopped to see it. Although he usually referred to this sleigh as "Mr Unicorn," that day he also admitted he called it "Mr Bachelor." The next day he drove a young lady in the sleigh for the first time. When he returned to Quebec after making a trip out of town in February, he advertised his return by driving around the city in the Unicorn.48 These passages reflect a definite self-conscious awareness of his bachelor state. This was his way of putting himself forward, in much the same way that young men in the twentieth century chose their cars as a way to present themselves to the world. In this period Abraham Joseph seems to have been courting all of the ladies without isolating any one for special attention. He was suspected of being engaged and teased about his current flame on many an occasion.49 Prior to his arrival in Quebec, he had been fond of Miss Molson, later Mrs Crawford.50 Over the next few years he felt particularly attached to Fanny David, the sister of his brother-in-law, who lived in Three Rivers at the time. Visits to his sister Catherine provided frequent opportunities for seeing Fanny. His diary indicates that he was quite taken with her and made her gifts of music. She seems to have been fond of him as well.51 Whether or not she was aware of the full extent of his feelings for her is not certain. He does not seem to have courted her seriously. At the same time he was paying considerable attention to Harriet Ann Ross in Quebec but thought of her as a friend. This did not prevent him from believing she was making a bad choice when she began walking out with a certain doctor on a regular basis and everyone suspected an engagement. When she and her family left Quebec, Abraham accompanied them as far as Three Rivers. He admitted to his diary that this separation was a difficult one. "An acquaintance of 13 or 14 months with that dear family has almost made me wish I had never known them - True the many and many pleasant hours - nay even evenings - that I last winter enjoyed so much in Harriet's company - would not have been known to me but the parting after our present intimacy is a wound in my heart deeper felt than she perhaps or any one else imagines." He gave her a ring for remembrance, which he had purchased for her a month earlier.51 We can only

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THE C O U P L E

speculate as to how Harriet felt. She could easily have believed that he was courting her. Some of his friends clearly thought so, since she is later referred to as "My late belle."53 No doubt she was disappointed when he did not ask for her hand. After more than a year she must have decided that he was not going to and began to accept the doctor's attention instead. Harriet and Dr Gilder were later married. When Abraham returned to Quebec, he felt Harriet's loss. In his journal, however, it was the time spent with her and her family that he refers to as having been such a frequent pleasure for him. They had clearly welcomed him into their family life and this had given him great pleasure. Although he sent her another gift with his love and the following day shaved his "whiskers" as a sign of his "being bereaved of an esteemed friend,"54 he was not heartbroken by her marriage. When he called on the "happy" couple in July he noted that their rooms were "shabily furnished" and that "Instead of liquors & cake - wine & water with water biscuit was served.ss This seemed to confirm his feeling that Harriet had not made the best possible choice of a mate. Now that she was married, however, their social interaction became much more formal and he could never have the same intimacy with her as he had before. After Harriet's departure he began to show even more attention to Fanny. This was evident during his visit to Montreal in April 1840. He even dreamed of her when he returned to Quebec.56 A friend from Three Rivers teased him about her (10 June 1840). He sent her a fresh salmon as a present (13 June 1840). Passing through Three Rivers, he was annoyed that he was unable to see her when he arrived after she had gone to bed. His view was that she and her sister could have made an appearance but would not (30 June 1840). He next saw her in July when she favoured him with several songs. Teased about her and asked if he had made wedding plans, he wished that even half of what was being said was true (18-2.0 July 1840). His sister Esther and other friends heard the rumour of his engagement to Fanny and confronted him with it. Others teased him about her.57 His conversations with his male friends that summer more frequently turned to marriage (3 August 1840). While he continued to be interested in Fanny, this did not prevent him from becoming quite fond of Miss Margaret Paterson in July 1841. She is mentioned almost daily for almost a month. After inviting her to drive with him to an upcoming picnic to the Chaudiere Falls, he noted in his journal: "she is a very fine girl - my great regret is that religion is so great a barrier between us - I must not get too sentimental particularly as I am very sleepy."58 When a friend later asked him if he thought she would make a good Jewess, his response was "I wished to

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God she were one - a Brunette piercing eyes & blk hair - what can be more beautiful."59 In September 1841 he travelled to New York and Philadelphia on business, taking time to visit family and friends while there and making a side trip to Baltimore and Washington. Although matrimony was not the ostensible reason for his trip, both Mrs Solomon in New York and Mrs Cohen in Baltimore offered to find him a wife if he would stay a week. He declined their services and in Philadelphia purchased music for Fanny, which he eagerly delivered upon his return.60 He returned to Three Rivers to celebrate Yom Kippur with his sister and the Misses David later in the month. At the time he seemed content that Fanny favoured him with several songs and seemed to think that he was seeking her friendship.61 Less than a month later, however, he was disturbed to hear that Theo Hart was seen at Three Rivers. Shortly after, rumours of Hart's engagement to Fanny began to circulate. When Abraham confronted Fanny on this question, she denied everything but also told him that he was being impertinent. That evening she sang only two songs and left the room at ten, unusually early for her. Unable to either confirm or dispel his fears, he returned to Three Rivers again. This time he had barely arrived when Theo Hart himself came in. The fact of an engagement was confirmed. Abraham was dismayed. "I could not help thinking on the very great - the very extraordy changes that have taken place in David family in the space of a few short months Aye: - a few short weeks -1 could but remark that the then unprincipled, rascally - villaneous - family of Hts were now by the same family raised to the height of friends." That afternoon he went for a walk with his sister and confessed to her that "Fanny Michaels David was the only girl I have ever loved & her I did love[.] I allowed - to C - that I had never given her reason to suppose that - but still I entertained a hope that at some future day I should have had the happiness of making her my Wife - & had I known that Theo Hart was courting her - my actions would have been very different." As he later added: "Tardiness had lost to me a dear & beloved girl possessed of all the good & aimable qualities that I would desire to see in a wife." Although his sister confirmed that no one in the David family was in favour of the match, Fanny's determination won the day. Having learned that they were to be married in January Abraham quickly decided that he should not allow his rival to see his feelings. Making the best of the situation, he assured Fanny that she had his best wishes for her happiness.62 It would be interesting to hear the other side of this story. Did Fanny wait patiently for Abraham to declare himself and finally decide that

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he was not going to? Or did she really decide in such a short time that Theo Hart was the one for her? Timing seems to have been an important factor here. Fanny had clearly reached the point where she was ready to marry, while Abraham seemed quite content in his role of courting bachelor. By the time he was aware of what was happening, it was too late to change things. We can assume from this that while ladies could encourage suitors, they were not able to initiate a more serious relationship if the gentleman failed to follow through. A short time after this, Abraham recorded in his diary that he had been having a sexual relationship with Ann Ross.63 She was first mentioned on 23 November 1841 when Rebekah sent him a dress intended as a present for her. On 22 December he noted: "Ann Ross who has more than once shared my bed took leave of me this morng on the occasion I gave her a few presents & a little money - Altho' not a beauty - a very fine girl - I rather think Mrs Payne has of late suspected an intimacy between us -1 was one eveng caught by Mrs P- talking to her - but as it was not in my own room & I happen'd to be fully dressed very little was said to her about it."64 It is hard to know what to make of this. If this indeed was the same Anne Ross, mother of Harriet, whose family he had spent so much time with a few years earlier, they were certainly well known to each other. The matter-of-fact way in which he makes this entry suggests that this was a relationship of mutual convenience, not one with strong emotional implications. After Fanny's marriage which he attended on 4 January 1842, Abraham became more conscious of the fact that he wished to marry should he find the right person. He felt quite attracted to a number of young ladies in Quebec, but none of them was Jewish. The bachelor lifestyle had less attraction for him as time went on. Three years later, still without any prospects of marriage, he nonetheless decided to move into a home of his own. On 15 May 1845 he slept at "Bachelors' Hall" at Number 12 Saint Genevieve Street for the first time. Not surprisingly, "All surmise that I am about to be married."65 His sisters Rebekah (fig. 1.7) and Esther, still unmarried, spent a considerable amount of time with him in Quebec thereafter. His dissatisfaction became more apparent, and he began to refer to his "solitary bed" when he retired at night. He now thought that he would like to have a wife, but he still had not found someone suitable. The Jewish community in Quebec maintained links with a number of Jewish families in the United States and England. Aware of the difficulty their group had in finding suitable marriage partners close to home, some of these families made a point of visiting their friends elsewhere when they had daughters of an age to marry. No one was misled by the true reason for these visits, and there was often speculation as to which marriages might result. One

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ENGAGEMENT

37

Fig. 1.7 William Notman, Rebekah Joseph, Montreal, QC, 1869. Notman Photographic Archives, 1-38794.1, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal. Rebekah, one of Abraham Joseph's sisters, lived with him for a time in Quebec.

such visit could well have ended in a successful courtship if Abraham had found Miss Gertrude Joseph of New York more to his liking. Her name was increasingly linked with his, and one of his sisters congratulated him on his engagement. Everyone assumed that his upcoming trip to New York was to get married to her there. However, he soon decided that Gertrude was too much of a flirt, and his high opinion of her dropped.66 On one of his visits to Montreal where his sister Catherine now lived, Abraham had the opportunity to have a serious talk with Fanny David's younger sister, Sophia. Sophia was very agreeable to him, but

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her strong affection for her cousin, rumoured by some to be an engagement, had kept him from seriously considering her as a possible marriage partner. In a later "tete-a-tete," he became convinced that there was no such engagement and they broached the possibility of a match between them. Their conversation was of "our future lives - our future intimacy - our future happiness."67 Abraham was overjoyed that this might be a possibility, but he was firm that he would consider marriage to her only if she gave up entirely her relationship with her cousin. At first she asked for time. He was to return two weeks later, at which point she would speak "finally & decidedly on subjects making my future happiness & prosperity."68 While in Quebec, he heard of Sophia travelling to Three Rivers with her cousin. This still did not prepare him, however, for the cold reception he was given upon his return to Montreal. Although aware that this would mean the end of their friendship, she admitted to him that she had been unable to detach herself from her cousin. "[H]er affections were placed on him from her childhood - had grown up with her and she would never remove them from him."69 The pains he took to record every detail of these interviews with Sophia indicate how affected he was by this turn of events. His response was that he would no longer seek her company. Since she lived with his sister, he knew that he would see her again, but he would not seek her out. For the next year, he rarely saw her on his visits to Montreal. Returning to Quebec, Abraham resumed his active social life. In November 1845 he purchased a house at auction with a lot in the rear for £393.7° Over the next year he would work on furnishing this house to his satisfaction and seems to have moved to Clapham Terrace by the summer.71 He could now entertain as well as accept invitations. He gave a party at the end of August and on the surface seemed to be in high spirits once again. Under the surface, however, he was troubled by his situation. He reflected: "I am doomed to live [and] work [with] those with whom religion prohibits closer ties - I have wished myself before a Roman Catholic had I been born such how my attention would have been directed to such charming dear creatures as Lida Larue - Charlotte & Caroline Mondelet."7i In January he gave his annual ball. Of the ninety-eight invited, forty-five attended. The dancing was kept up with "waltz succeeding quadrille - & then Polka succeeding another quadrille & so on." He was delighted that the new mottos he had had printed for the occasion caused a sensation and livened the evening.73 In February he attended a grand ball given by the bachelors of the Montreal garrison and held at the Odd Fellows Hotel. Around six hundred persons attended and two military bands played alternately.74 From there he went on to a ball at Berthier. This one was

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a more intimate affair of only 150 persons. He "carried on a desperate flirtation" with one of the young ladies present.75 It may have been the gay season, but he did not feel particularly gay. When he arrived back in Quebec he wrote: "My home looks large & dull - folks may well say that Bachelors - particularly such as keep home - want a wife I begin to think that I do."76 He doubted, however, that that happy event would occur soon.77 While visiting Montreal again in August 1846 he intended to keep clear of any serious conversations with Sophia, but as it turned out, they slipped into talking over "the old story." Although they had several other conversations on the subject while he was there, he continued to flirt with the other ladies present. In the end he told her that he was still not convinced that she had removed her affection from her cousin. Whether or not they would become greater friends would depend on circumstances and the state of her health.78 When he returned home, he took the time to reflect over their conversations and to assess his feelings. He was delighted that she now seemed willing to forgo her cousin in his favour. He expressed particular approval of her character rather than her looks and manners: "Sophia cannot boast of the fine appearance of Miss F. but is so perfectly true & sincere in all she says & does that one cannot help admiring her -1 believe her to be one who is unchangeable - so much [so?] that if I heard her say - she loved me - I would at once put it down - not as a passing remark of too many girls - but as an undeniable fact."79 Matters remained there through September during which time he courted Miss Phebe Levy and Miss Sanford, both visiting from the United States, and Miss Dora Hart of Montreal. He heard reports that Sophia's cousin was leaving for the United States and that his departure had so affected her that she could not bid him goodbye. Taking a wife seemed an attractive alternative to spending another lonely winter alone in his home, but it was one marked by the difficulty of "finding a real true heart one who loves me & one whom I should love."80 During his late September trip to Montreal for Yom Kippur, Abraham's world turned completely around. He announced this in his journal by heading the next two pages "Trip to Montreal - and eventful week Sept - Oct '46." Before beginning a minute-by-minute replay of that week which would take up the next twenty-two pages of his journal, he prefaced his remarks with the following: One week - one long week has elapsed since last I wrote in this book - and that one week the most eventful of my whole life May the event [?] the course of my continued happiness! May the new life I am about entering upon - and for which I am now preparing be one of continued happiness & prosperity -

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May [.. .ing?] live to enjoy that happiness which I have sought - which with the blessing of Almighty God I feel certain of possessing.81

Thus we know from the outset that this trip led to his engagement with Sophia David. That outcome seemed far from certain to him, however, when he first arrived in Montreal. He had promised to take Dora Hart riding on Tuesday but, because the weather was bad, thought he would not go. In the meantime he and Sophia were engaged in an ongoing conversation which he was very reluctant to pull away from, almost as though he knew his whole future could rest on the decision to go or not go riding. They kept going aground on the rock of Sophia's relationship with her cousin. "I wanted the rock removed in toto - she would have it there as a momento -." On the way to the synagogue that evening, however, Abraham felt that she was ready to give all. He sensed this from the fact that when he said he had to go to his mother's to pick up his prayer book, she agreed to walk with him by a different route than the others. After the prayers they walked back together. Thus we know that it was just above the Drummond residence that "Sophia consented to yield all and to be my wife." Because it was Yom Kippur, they did not remain together long that night and decided to wait until the fasting was over to tell the others. The following morning at synagogue Abraham prayed better than ever: "I had a lively heart and prayed that my new life might be one of happiness & prosperity - I prayed so not only for myself but for Sophia too." The new state of affairs between them was obvious to everyone, and they could not keep it quiet for long. After prayers later in the day, he and Sophia walked home together arm in arm. Family and friends congratulated them that evening and the remainder of the week. When he left Montreal, they parted with "full hearts" and "the ever to be rememberd - first" kiss. Abraham Joseph and Sophia David agreed in October 1846 that they would marry. They had known each other since childhood and their families were already allied. Sophia lived with her brother and sister-inlaw (Abraham's sister Catharine), and her parents were dead. Once an agreement was reached, then, there was no reason to delay the marriage. They quickly settled that it would be on Wednesday, 18 November. Now over their difficulty, Abraham and Sophia moved into an intense and very affectionate relationship. They wrote long letters to each other daily. He went to Montreal to see her almost every week thereafter. After a week apart he even broke his usual rule of not travelling on Friday in order to do so. He would take the steamer in the evening and arrive in Quebec or Montreal the following morning around 6 a.m. When he saw her, he was greeted with "more than one

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kiss." They now sat together "cosily." Excited and unable to focus on anything else, at one point he joined his friends for a card game but lost $4; his mind was on Sophia, not his cards. For the first time he refers to the card parties as "stupid." As he looked forward to domestic bliss, the social life of Quebec faded in importance. He continued to play his part, but without his usual enthusiasm. Although many of his friends congratulated him, others refused to believe he was actually getting married. For ten years he had been a most eligible bachelor without coming close to matrimony. Now he was telling them that in less than two months he would be married. The time remaining before the wedding was filled with necessary arrangements. When he was next back in Montreal, Abraham purchased for Sophia an engagement ring that cost £7, more than the one she had chosen.82 He placed it on her finger before leaving with a prayer for their happiness. The following week she chose a card which they would have engraved "Mrs A Joseph." He completed the purchases of curtains and furniture for his house. He also had a marriage contract drawn up, which he would take with him and have executed before a Montreal notary (Doucet). She hired a servant maid in Montreal who would arrive in Quebec two weeks before the wedding. Early in November Sophia began receiving wedding presents from various friends. Abraham noted that she received a dozen silver dessert knives and forks from Theodore Hart. The handsome presents were to his mind an indication of "the high estimation my better half (to be) is held in."83 Meeting Gertrude, now Mrs Samuel David, at a family dinner, he had occasion to reflect on how much better off he was with Sophia, who would be a "kind, affectionate - true & sincere wife" rather than with a giddy one like Gertrude. On 15 November, as he prepared to go to his solitary bachelor bed for the last time, he thanked God that in future "another shall share my pillows." He would not write in his journal again until after he had become a married man. A week after the wedding he wrote: "This day week I was made happy - I became a married man and as I have every earthly reason to believe - really & truly 'a happy man' for the remainder of my days."84 He then went on to fill in the details of the ceremony and celebration. He had left for Montreal on the Monday evening, spending Tuesday with Sophia. In the afternoon they signed the marriage contract. On Wednesday morning he breakfasted with his mother, then went out and settled all his accounts. At noon he dressed and for the first time began to feel nervous. The ceremony was performed at 2:30 by the Reverend Lynn of New York at the home of Dr David on Saint Jacques Street. After the usual kissing and rejoicing, the couple changed for travelling and at 4:30 Abraham and his bride boarded a steamer for Quebec.

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Fig. 1.8 William Notman, A. Joseph, Montreal, QC, 1873-74. Notman Photographic Archives, 1—97887, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal. In this studio portrait Abraham Joseph is shown as a man of business, with pen in hand and ledger. He was also a family man, the father of thirteen children.

They began their married life in the same stateroom but in different berths, having decided to share a bed only once they arrived in Quebec. They would retire immediately upon their arrival, not rising for lunch until two in the afternoon. At that point Abraham would write, "Sophia was now in every sence of the word - my wife." Abraham (fig. 1.8) and Sophia (fig. 1.9) lived together until her death in 1866. They had thirteen children. Although the transition from bachelor to married man appears to have happened very quickly for Abraham Joseph, a careful reading of his journal indicates that this transformation actually occurred over a period of several years. First he reached a point where he could afford to live in his own house. Then he began to acknowledge his desire to be married. He wanted someone he could love and who would love

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Fig. 1.9 William Notman, Mrs. Abraham Joseph, Montreal, QC, 1866. Notman Photographic Archives, 1-21363.1, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal. Nee Sophia David, she married Abraham Joseph on 18 November 1846.

him completely. She had to be Jewish. He therefore had to begin to look more specifically within his Jewish social circle rather than among the much broader social circle of Quebec's French and English elite. The young Abraham had been drawn to Fanny David, "the Nightingale," whose voice drew many young men to her side. The older Abraham - he had just turned thirty-one when he married - was more prepared to see and appreciate the perhaps less visible qualities of Sophia David. Abraham's diary for the period from 1837 to 1846 also gives great insight into the social activities of the Quebec elite at this time. Courtship for French and English families alike took place in the social climate of balls and private parties, sleigh rides to Montmorency Falls, and picnics to the village of Ancienne Lorette, Grosse

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Isle, the Chaudiere Falls, and elsewhere. Wagers were placed on who would be getting married next, and suitors were thought to have been refused or engaged many more times than they were in reality. The young women who were ready to marry often put themselves forward in a fairly forceful way.85 Social events such as balls and parties routinely started at ten or eleven in the evening and continued until three or four in the morning, or even later. Young people found much pleasure in this active social life, and one young lady felt her father was a brute for tearing her away from Quebec and forcing her back home to Three Rivers. Rules of etiquette were strictly adhered to, however, and functioned to limit social contacts to those who had the proper credentials. Underlying all the gaiety lay the much more serious process of finding a suitable mate, which was not always an easy task. One has the impression that in order to be married some of the young ladies Abraham courted settled for someone who might not have been their first choice. At the upper levels of society, the number of available marriage partners narrowed, especially when one was restricted by differences of language and religion. This seems to have been particularly true of the Quebec elite, a topic which would warrant further investigation.86 John Wells John Wells provides us with a slightly different example of courtship. A recent immigrant from England, he taught school in Bond Head and Ingersoll in Upper Canada. In 1862 he was thirty-eight and still single.87 Although he had a sister in Wardsville and a brother in Toronto, he boarded near the village of Ingersoll where he was teaching. He was not as integrated into a family group and community as Wrong and Tweedie were, but as a school teacher he had the respect of the community in which he worked and a circle of friends with whom he visited and attended social functions. Parents with daughters of an age to marry probably courted his presence at these events because he was an eligible bachelor. From the entries in his diary, it appears he had a special interest in the daughter of one of his friends. This changed after he returned from a visit to England. While there, he was reacquainted with a friend from his childhood and became romantically attached to her. Despite the complexities of courting someone across the Atlantic, he chose to pursue that relationship over any new friendships made since coming to Canada. Such a long-distance romance had its difficulties, however, not the least of which was the length of time to get letters. This was not a problem when a letter brought pleasure, such as that on

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ii November: "Received a long looked for letter from Annie Bell enclosing her likeness which is a very good one; the letter was nearly a month on the way but it afforded me much pleasure when I did get it."88 But when a letter was less pleasurable, Wells had to live with it for a long time before he could get another. In early December, for example, he wrote: "I unexpectedly received a letter from Annie B. which whilst it pained me, evidenced a kind disposition and a pious character." The next day he wrote: "snowing very dismally, and I felt very desolate; could not concentrate my ideas to study."89 To make matters worse, he then heard that a friend had received a letter which said that "Mrs Bell was going to be married to a fellow of a college; this rather took the wind out of me."90 Luckily, a letter from his sister a few days later was "principally about Mrs Bell; she does not confirm the report about her going to be married." It was not until 22 December that John was "much gratified at receiving a nice satisfactory note from Annie B-."91 Although most immigrants did not get an opportunity to return home once they came to Canada, John's choice of a childhood acquaintance for a mate raises the question of whether or not recent immigrants found it more difficult to find a partner who suited them than someone who had been settled here longer. A well-known example of the opposite situation, however, can be found in Mary Capper's decision to stay in Canada and marry Edward O'Brien rather than return to England.92 Jane Van Norman and Dunham Emery Jane Van Norman was a teacher at Burlington Academy in Burlington, Upper Canada, at a Methodist school for girls run by her brother. In 1844 Sarah Eliza Emery was among those converted at a religious revival at the Academy. The Emerys evidently lived on a farm close to Jane's father, and Jane must have known the family for some time. At some point before 1847 Aaron Dunham Emery became a widower. At this time he lived with his children, a housekeeper, and a schoolteacher who boarded with them.93 When he began looking for a new wife and stepmother for his children, he fixed on Jane Van Norman. At this time she was unable to agree to marry him and made this reply to his proposal: I have thought much on the subject and really Mr. Emery, I have almost come to the conclusion that they who think least are happiest, I refer particularly to the subject of matrimony, for some seem to enter upon that dreadful stage of action, with scarcely any reflection on the subject and yet appear to do well.

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While I with all my cautiousness & circumspection, cannot come to any happy conclusion. The only conclusion I can arrive at, is, that I was never intended for conjugal felicity, or I could more easily make my mind approach the subject... I assure you I have done all in my power to decide the matter. &c if you cannot bear with me you must leave me to pursue my own course, perhaps to wretchedness. I trust not however. 94

While she did not close the door completely, and told him that she would still be happy to see him if he chose to come, this courtship was not off to an auspicious start. Jane had already set her course in the direction of a career teaching school, and before she would embrace matrimony she would have to be very sure it was the right step to take. The summer break in the school term must have come shortly after this and they might well have seen a lot more of each other during that time. This did not change her mind, however, but left her resolved not to marry Dunham. She returned to school earlier than expected, and at that point her father was very happy that she was not getting married.95 Later that summer she wrote to Dunham that she was more inclined to look on his proposal favourably but warned that she was in God's hands and would do what he appointed as long as that was plain. She also asked that Dunham come in a buggy if he came calling, so that one of the others could accompany them for a drive.96 A month later their courtship seemed to be on a more positive footing, and Dunham suggested that if they had trusted to God more, she might have saved herself from the hardships or exercising of the mind that she had gone through.97 Jane's next letter indicates that the school was having difficulty in anticipation of replacing her, so it seems that she must at that point have decided to marry Dunham. This is reflected in their correspondence, where she makes many allusions to married life and her thoughts on the subject. Writing on a Sunday evening (although she did not really think this right98), she suggests that they should consecrate their lives to God, and if united, they should be "spiritual helpmates to each other." After asking him about his situation and telling him that she is quite happy in hers, she adds: "What a thing it must be to be chained for life to an individual who feels no kind of sympathy or participation in either your joys or sorrows."99 They corresponded regularly throughout the rest of the year, and they obviously saw each other quite often as well. The path of their courtship continued to be less than smooth, however. When she criti-

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cized his handwriting and style of writing, for example, he took offence and replied: I received your excellent though I cannot say affectionate letter. I was a little surprised with some remarks you made particularly with regard to my style and penmanship and did I not know better I should have thought you must come from the emerald isle... You speack of its being affectionate well I could not write no other without doing violence to me fellings. But I regret very much that my indulging in the expression of my feelings should have had such a powerful effect in freezing up your affections and causing you to send forth such a cold and accrimonious production. I wrote as I did for two reasons first because [I] felt it due to you, And secondly because I felth it in my heart to do so. Now my dear if I have come to a wrong conclusion I know your kind heart will pardon and your able pen set me right.100

Despite these misunderstandings, Dunham was eager to marry as soon as possible, undoubtedly because he looked forward to the comforts that marriage would provide. He was reluctant to have Jane stay at the school until the spring.101 He also wanted her to spend all of the Christmas holidays at home whereas she had hoped to spend part of them at the school, which would allow her the time to do some painting, a pastime she never had enough time for during term. However, she agreed to comply with his wishes regarding the holidays.IO2 In January 1848 she was back at school, but unlike her colleagues, she stayed away from the New Year's parties.103 Dunham was giving up tobacco, because she had told him she disliked his pipe.104 During the winter they exchanged books, and commented on these. She saw this time they had to wait as an opportunity for self-improvement rather than a blank as he did. Many of the books she lent him touched on the subject of marriage, and in one she had marked the passages relating to the duties of a husband.105 Although she had agreed to marry him, then, she was giving marriage careful consideration and asked him to do the same. Although Dunham seemed secure in his love for her, Jane was less certain about the meaning of love and seemed to be thinking more in terms of Christian love than conjugal love.106 Both were religious, but she expressed more concern around this subject than he did. Jane Van Norman finally decided in favour of marriage over a career, but she did so only reluctantly and with much reflection on the nature of marriage. At no point did she appear eager to be married or even to be looking forward to it. She would, however, have liked more time to prepare for it: "I could think here I am, shut up & have been for the last ten years, & expect in the Spring to get married & no time for

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anything like suitable preparation, I think I might have at least 3 months to spend in preparation, after spending so much of my time for the benefit of the School."107 She also admitted in the end that Dunham had spoiled her for teaching. Her heart was no longer fully in her vocation, which in her view it should be, for her to do it well.108 For her the choice of marriage over a career was not a given. It was a decision she had to struggle with. For a widower with children, the attraction of marriage was evident. In remarrying shortly after the death of his spouse, Dunham Emery was following the same course as the majority of widowers in the nineteenth century.109 William Douglas and Jane Hudson In the early nineteenth century gentlemen did not socialize with young ladies without first having been introduced to them, usually through a relative or common family friend. Entry into middle class and elite social circles was thereby regulated, and only those who had someone who could vouch for their good reputation were allowed to enter. Courtship would be impossible without first having gained entry into that group. The situation for a young man who fell in love from a distance with someone with whom he had no friends in common was therefore quite hopeless. This, however, is exactly the situation that William Douglas found himself in.110 He met Jane Emily Hudson in Toronto in the summer of 1861, in an unexplained incident that was somewhat embarrassing to her. After that chance meeting she still did not know who he was, and he still required an introduction. Addressing her in a bold dark hand as "My Dear Miss," he asked if it would be permissible for him to be introduced to her, making the excuse that gentlemen are ignorant of rules or cordiality.111 He was clearly well aware that he was breaking those rules. When she replied to his note, he wrote to her from Chatham,112 explaining that he wanted to be admitted to her circle of friends because he thought that her opinions and ideas would not be very different from his. He seldom made friends, he said, because he found it unpleasant to have his ideas treated rudely. He also disliked having to repress his views to avoid wounding others. On what basis he believed she would be different is hard to imagine, but his letter suggests that he had observed her for some time, without having made her acquaintance. Following her suggestion, he let her know when he was next in Toronto, and asked where he could call on her.113 Having met her at the end of August, he wrote again, fully aware that he was taking a great liberty in doing so but encouraged by the cordiality with which

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he had been received. He should have asked her mother's permission, he admitted, but felt embarrassed to do so. Their first chaperoned walk had been cut short, and he had not had the chance to explain fully. Writing to a friend was second only to seeing a friend, he added, and Toronto had taken on more interest to him and Chatham lost proportionately since he had seen her. He hoped that she would write.114 A week later William wrote to Jane saying that he loved her and that that was the reason he had wanted to meet her. This time, however, he enclosed a note for her mother, asking for her permission to correspond with her daughter on that basis and to explain his conduct to her. He felt this honesty would be the best course and would prevent embarrassment when they met later. He hoped that in time she would reciprocate his feelings. Even though they had only been acquainted a few weeks, he felt as though they were old friends.115 In a very short letter of reply, Jane told him that she did not know how she had gained his affection but hoped that she would be worthy of it. Although she was not in a position to reciprocate those feelings yet, she reassured him: "I think very highly of you considering our short personal acquaintance and must leave the rest to time, and intercourse."116 Jane Hudson's mother, who had known William for years by sight, possibly through the church, decided to allow this correspondence despite the rather unusual circumstances. She admitted that "such attachments do occur sometimes."117 William moved to greater familiarity immediately. His early letters were addressed to "Miss Hudson." Now he addressed Jane as "dearest Jeannie" and signed himself: "I remain Dearest Jeannie Ever yours Wm Douglas."118 He felt that formalities and proprieties were no longer necessary between them in their correspondence. She could call him whatever she preferred, William or Willie. He hoped that she would say or ask anything she thought, since he could not consider a friend anyone who had reserve with him. Laughing at himself a little for being so struck with this "malady" [love], he admitted that this was especially so in his case because he had the reputation of being a "woman hater."119 From the end of September their correspondence proceeded on that basis. They obviously still had much to learn about one another, but there was no doubt in William's mind as to the reasons for this correspondence. Jane maintained that she needed time to see if she could reciprocate his feelings but entered into the correspondence willingly. In the months that followed, their correspondence continued, punctuated by occasional visits when William went to Toronto. He got to know her family and began including greetings to them in his letters. They exchanged photographs, which gave them both pleasure. "Isn't it

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THE C O U P L E

very strange that one whose very image & almost every look & feature(?) is engraved in one mind so perfectly can be [placed ao] brought up before the mind in a different way by a [?] picture," he wrote.120 She began to miss him when he was not there, shedding a tear when he left and wanting to avoid social occasions unless he was there as her escort. William disagreed with her on this, pointing out that his own social life was not reduced by her absence. As they found it more difficult to be apart, he expressed his philosophy on the subject: "[Pleasure in this world is ever purchased at great trouble & vexation & we must expect our share of it & our future pleasure must be purchased it seems by our seperation now - at all events the seperation will add to it."121 When they were together, they must have talked of many things, but if his letters are any indication of the subjects they touched upon, religion was a central one.122She was very devout in her religious practices, whereas he was a Christian in name but without any real commitment to formal religious practices, especially keeping the Sabbath. He usually attended the Presbyterian Church but admitted that he did so out of duty and got very little from it. He did not like any of the three Presbyterian ministers, and on occasion he simply did not bother to go to church at all. He might also go for a walk in the country on a Sunday afternoon, or write to her, despite his sense that this was not quite appropriate.I23 She was concerned that he did not partake in the sacraments. He replied that as long as the little good in him was smothered by his wicked companions, it would be impossible to change. He hoped it would be different when he led a different kind of life. His sensibilities were definitely Protestant, however, and his reaction to the Roman Catholic practices witnessed at a funeral was one of disgust. He also demonstrated racist ideas as evidenced by his lack of sympathy for the activism in favour of blacks which the church engaged in, and a conversation with the house-servant at the boarding house where he lived.124 They wrote of Toronto and Chatham. William found people in Chatham less cold than in Toronto, and found that many of the inhabitants who were of American origin had what he thought of as eccentric habits. Many Scots had settled in the area, and he wished he could speak Gaelic to them. He liked the bagpipes, not because of the music, which he said was "rough," but because of their association with home, where he had sometimes heard them in the hills. Generally he found that there were few events in Chatham worth mentioning. He described for Jane the various social functions he attended, and while claiming not to enjoy these much, he seldom refused an invitation. In November 1861 he was involved in the organization of a great ball for St Andrew's Day. She wrote to him about

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her dreams, and he tried to interpret them for her. They seldom wrote of politics or current events. He referred to the talk of war, however, and told her that he himself had volunteered for drilling, four hours a week. He said little about his law practice except to mention any trips that he undertook because of it. Through this correspondence and his visits to Toronto, they learned more about each other. Both seemed satisfied with what they learned, and the courtship progressed rapidly. Before the year was out, William sought Jane's father's permission to marry her. In January he was very pleased to hear that her "papa [had] so kindly consented to [their] union."125 Their situation continued much as before, however, and the correspondence between them did not change as a result of their engagement. That summer William planned a trip out West to visit his brother George, and was gone for almost three weeks at the beginning of August. It was not until December that they began to make plans to marry. William Douglas's chance meeting of Jane Hudson did not in and of itself provide him with an opportunity to get to know her. He needed an introduction and permission to become part of her social circle. It might seem surprising that her mother was open to this possibility, but it must be remembered that she had known him by sight for many years. His dress and appearance must have met with her approval, identifying him as respectable. Although she does not explain where she had seen him, it is possible that they had been members of the same congregation in Toronto. If that was the case, her willingness to accommodate him would take on a slightly different perspective. She may also have made enquiries about him that she does not mention. If he had not met with her approval, the door to her daughter's affection would have remained closed. That was only the first step. Once that door was opened, he would still have to earn Jane's love based on his own merits before he could hope for more. That she accepted to be courted by someone she barely knew must mean that she too had been favourably impressed with what she saw when she first met him. Though not quite love at first sight, it was perhaps'as close to it as one was likely to get in middle-class circles of nineteenth-century Canada. Mary Westcott and Amedee Papineau Because it falls outside of the norms of the ordinary situation, the courtship of Amedee Papineau and Mary Westcott is particularly interesting. Their opportunity for meeting and for getting to know each other was created by the young man's exile after the Rebellion of 1837. His father, Louis-Joseph Papineau, had friends in Vermont and New

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York whom his son might well have met under different circumstances. But it was Amedee's exile that led to his spending several years in Saratoga from the age of eighteen, providing him with the opportunity to meet and socialize with Mary Westcott to the point of falling in love with her, despite the differences in their backgrounds. Given the circumstances under which they got to know one another, her parents had no reason to suspect what was happening and were therefore unable to act soon enough to prevent their attraction. Sanctioning it, however, was a different matter. While in Saratoga, Amedee moved in the social circle of his father's friends and became acquainted with a number of people his age. He attended lectures, dances, and many social events. In January 1839 he began teaching French at the local academy for girls run by the Misses Wayland126; they became part of his social circle, as did the students. That year he also became acquainted with Joseph Westcott, Mary's uncle. On Christmas day he spent the evening at the home of James Westcott, Mary's father, where the company of some lovely ladies dispelled some of his homesickness.127 His New Year's calls included both Joseph and James Westcott. Four months later he noted in his diary that Mary Westcott was the May Queen at a picnic that he had attended, given by the students of the Wayland Academy. In June he accompanied the Waylands and their students on a day excursion to Jessup Falls. Before leaving for a trip back to Montreal in 1840, he stopped in at the Westcott home (fig. 1.1o) to say goodbye. His visits continued after his return, and in March he attended the funeral of James Westcott, Mary's twelve-year-old brother. In June 1841 he left Saratoga after three years there to practice as a lawyer in New York. The Westcotts received two farewell visits before his departure. Although he had clearly had many opportunities to get to know Mary Westcott during these years in Saratoga, his diary gives no indication that she received any more attention than any of the other young women he had met during these social encounters.128 Shortly after he arrived in New York, Mary and her father called on him while visiting the city. The two young people went walking on the Battery together, and Amedee spent Sunday evening with both Mary and her father. The Westcotts again came to New York in October and at that time visited him several times.129 Later that month Amedee returned to Saratoga for two months with the intention of spending the time translating a legal commentary. While there, he took the time to visit old friends including the Westcotts. He continued to socialize, often at the home of friends but occasionally with parties of young people. An excursion to Lake Saratoga with a group of friends includ-

COURTSHIP AND

ENGAGEMENT

53

i.io Augustin Edouart, La famille Wescott, 1840. Jagged paper, ink, sepia, graphite, watercolour, 31.2 x 46.7 cm. Collection Musee du Quebec, no. 87.35 (photographer, Patrick Altman). The Westcott family, consisting of James Westcott, his second wife, Mary Westcott, his daughter, Mary Eleanor Westcott, and his son, James (who died later that year), is shown in this silhouette portrait. Amedee Papineau also had a silhouette portrait made by the same artist that year. Two other portraits, one of James Westcott and his son, and one of James Westcott Jr, can be found in the same collection.

ed Mary, but again she was not .singled out in his diary entry.130 The following day being Sunday, he attended church with the Westcott family. He did not see them again until late in November. It was not until i December 1840 that he admitted to his diary that he was in love. His progress on his translation, he confessed, was less than he had hoped to accomplish in the six weeks he had been there, and he blamed his slow progress on two phantoms, one being "Liberty and Patriotism," the second "armed with a bow and arrow ... called (I have had it whispered in my ear) love."131 At the time he was twenty-two years of age and Mary was nineteen. His awareness of his feelings for Mary came just before his departure for France to be reunited with his family after a difficult separation of four years. Although his leave-taking of the Westcotts was "a long farewell visit," it was not until after an initial exchange of correspondence that he received a letter from his "Dear Mary" which dispelled his fears and doubts: "Oh! happy man that I am."132

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He did not return from France and visit Saratoga again until June 1843. His first evening was spent at the Westcotts. In the days that followed, James Westcott learned of the affection between Amedee Papineau and his daughter. It came as a surprise to him. His response was to say that although he would not stand in their way, he would make them stand the test of time - four to five years. In that time, any engagement they might have undertaken should be considered null, and they were to correspond only occasionally. His chief concern was that of religion; he did not want his daughter to have to give up her beliefs.133 In spite of this, Amedee was allowed to spend a considerable amount of time with Mary over the next few days, including one afternoon alone with her. She gave him the gift of a lock of her hair and a portfolio for holding correspondence, and they exchanged long letters. Hers asked him not to be angry at her parents, who were doing what they thought was best for her. She vowed an "eternal love" for him and believed that they could make it through this trial. She told him that she trusted him but warned that if he broke her trust, it would not return.134 The following day the Westcotts and Amedee were part of a larger party who visited the battlefields of Saratoga. When Amedee distributed leaves to the ladies from an old tree at the foot of which General Fraser died, he split Mary's with her. That evening he brought her some French songs and a lock of his hair. He left for Canada a few days later after several more visits. The only indication in his diary of what transpired is when he writes of his departure, "My soul is so sad and I am so in need of solitude that it is with pleasure that I find myself the only passenger."135 It was probably at this time that he wrote several poems to Mary expressing some of his feelings. One of these, "Farewell to Mary W," ends with the following verse: May life for thee its highest livery wear, Full joy and gladness on thy youth attending Meek Christian faith to life its comfort lending To crown thine every wish, to soothe thy care And make thee always happy, as thou 'rt fair.136

In another he states his love for her openly, but then goes on to say that he must try not to love her. But it must not be I never must wish, To receive from those lips affections sweet kiss; For you, all my humble pretensions would waive

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For the noble and high, the gifted and brave: I must seek in another land my lot, And strive dear Mary, to love thee not: But 'twill smoothe my path to the temple of fame, To think of thy friendship - and think of thy name.137

Amedee returned to Montreal where he obtained a government position as protonotary of the Court of Queen's Bench. He corresponded with Mary occasionally, and they exchanged copies of their local papers. Although we have no recorded expression of his feelings throughout most of the following year, his outburst, "Day of mourning!", when he heard that she had been sick in June 1844, testifies to his continued devotion.138 That winter he socialized with family and friends, but Mary remained in the background. On Valentine's Day he penned another poem to her after quoting Byron's "The Dream." He seemed uncertain of the future and aware that he could not control it, only wait to see what it would bring: "and I must wait / Until the will of destiny shall join / My life to sadness, or my soul to thee."139 That spring Mary was trying to decide how she felt about him and was considering dismissing him. She had asked for her letters to be returned, which suggests strongly that this was in fact her intention. She wrote to her father asking for his point of view: Father I wish you to write to me directly upon the suject I spoke to you of ... do write me immediately - and tell me your wishes without any reference to me at all. Now dearest Father - it is seldom that a child makes such a request, is it not. ? ought you not then to answer it as I trust you will - from the dictates of your own good judgment. I have, as I told you, written to P. to return me my letters and all, he will come expecting a dismissal - shall I give it? Answer - pray - for I cannot - but one thing, he nor anyone else will ever possess the deep inexpressible love I bear to you, my Father - the love of a motherless child for one who has been as both parents to her."140

When Amedee travelled to New York in May 1845, he therefore had little hope of a favourable outcome. He stopped only briefly in Saratoga, planning to stop at the Westcotts only to leave his card. Since Mr Westcott answered the door himself, Amedee had to pay his respects to Mary's mother as well, but the visit was "short and polite only." From there he continued on to New York where he saw Mary the same evening. "What an interview!" he wrote. He sent her a letter written that night in his hotel. Two days later he received two notes from her and immediately sent a reply and went to meet her for a promenade. His diary is silent as to the nature of this meeting. The following day

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he went out into the countryside with family friends. He had just sat down to dine when Mr Westcott was announced, wishing to see him. He had brought with him a note from Mary which was a complete turnaround. Amedee was exuberantly overjoyed, as is evident from his diary entry.141 He ran upstairs to write to his brother Lactance before going to meet Mary, first for a walk, and later to view an art exhibition, where they spent most of their time in a quiet corner together. The following day they went on an excursion with friends and upon their return exchanged daguerreotypes. They spent the evening together and took a long promenade. After one last promenade the following day, Amedee left for Montreal with a brief stay in Saratoga. This time he was well received by Mrs Westcott, and a few days later Mr Westcott returned from New York and gave him a note from Mary. A few days later he was back at work and regular routine, "as though nothing had happened!"142- But clearly something momentous had happened, and the direction his life would take from that point was quite different than if Mary had dismissed him. His diary, which omits crucial detail or gives it in code, provides us with only an outline of events. Since the critical turning point in their relationship occurred while they walked together in New York, we do not know exactly what transpired. Several of Mary's letters, however, give us a hint. Two letters from Mary to Amedee written in December 1843 and in March 1844 discuss the topic of religion and indicate that she was having trouble reconciling herself to the differences in their religious beliefs.143 After they had reconciled, she wrote to him with some indication of what she had gone through. A year earlier she had tried to banish all thoughts of him. She had put off telling her parents, however, and spoke only of changes in herself. She had decided to go to New York to lift her spirits. She accused him of having been "cold and silent" at that time. So it was not until their walk on the promenade in New York that she knew she had wronged him. In the end she had loved him through it all, even though she had tried to convince herself that she did not.144 It seems that the desire to please her father, whom she loved very much, and to uphold her religious beliefs, had conflicted with her feelings for Amedee and her desire to marry him, to the point of making her ill. Mary Westcott and Amedee Papineau were from similar social backgrounds. He had an excellent command of English and she had an excellent command of French, so language was not a barrier for them. Politically, his liberal and democratic ideas meshed well with hers. The only major difference between them, then, was religion. She was raised as a Presbyterian, and he was a Catholic. Although it was easy enough for her to fall in love with him while he was in Saratoga, it was anoth-

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er matter to marry him and to move away from her family and friends to live in a foreign country, especially when that choice was opposed by her father and stepmother. Their opposition was not to Amedee personally but in response to the perceived difficulties she would face in marrying a Roman Catholic. The perception of what this would mean is expressed in a letter from her stepmother after her decision to marry Amedee. Mrs Westcott wrote: So my dear child, you have taken the most important step in woman's existance; I can not diapprove of your decision - and I can think of but one thing against it that you already know, otherwise, I think him the most desireable man I have met in many years; as a man, and a gentleman he exactly hits my mark, in my intercourse with him I have never seen him guilty of discourtiousness of any kind in fact if he had been my own son, I do not know that I could wish him to be other than he appears to be, except in his religion -. That Mr. P- posess tallents of a very extraordinary character I do not [doubt], neither do I think it desireable for such are rearly good domestic characters - but I think his education, and his information, is superiour my sincere wish and desire is that you may be happy you will undoubtedly have to encounter some of the disagreables but that you must expect meet and pary it to the best of your judgement - You must try and establish yourself in the Protestant faith, make it your study you will need a strong bulwark against there incursions I do not think that Mr P's family emeadiat family I mean will make it a subject of contention with you at all but Mrs. P- has a brother who is a Priest, and they are so stealthy, so cuning, they leave not stone unturned to make one prosolite - I said so to Mr. P- your family and friends will look upon Mary as a Heretick, how shall we feel do you think? Whe[n] he said how mistaken you are my Parents, are very liberal they can have no such feelings or any of my family, he says he has no wish that you should change, and that he should not he could not change, he beleives his Church infallible from the Pope, down he beleives in the real presence I said you do not beleive in the real presence, surely your are bereft of your senses, I do I do, he says I'm bound to beleive so so we talked away for a while and at last concluded we would not quarrel, he came in once or twice a day while here and I invited him to tea which he accepted - his Lordship left in my keeping for you a little writing establishment very curious I assure you, he shewed me all that was pretty about it.I45 The fears expressed by her parents did not materialize, and Amedee Papineau and Mary Westcott were finally married 2o May 1846 in Saratoga (see page 73) and lived together happily despite their religious differences. After her marriage, Mary sometimes commented on the customs of Montrealers or of her new family, and how they were different from those of the Americans, but by and large she was able to

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adapt to her new situation. Most couples, of course, did not have to face these extra difficulties. They courted and chose their mates among the circle of friends known to their families, and this usually meant that their religious sentiments were similar. As we have seen earlier in the correspondence of others, this was often considered to be the basic foundation of their ability to build a married life together. CONCLUSION

Propinquity, both geographical and social, has always been a factor in marriage choices. Generally, people married those who lived close to them. They also preferred to marry within the same religious group. Ward's sample from Upper Canada146 found that two-thirds married someone of the same denomination, and a further 28 per cent of marriages were between Protestants of different denominations. Only 5 per cent were Catholic-Protestant unions, and 1 per cent were others. Although ethnicity was also a factor in marriage choices, it was not as significant as religion and decreased over time in Ontario. I47 The examples of courtship discussed here help bring these general demographic trends into perspective. Courtship cannot be separated from the creation of kinship and social networks discussed more fully in section 3. Community ties were created through mutual assistance and visiting. One of the primary purposes of this social intercourse was to allow the next generation to find mates among a compatible population. This would operate at every social level. But many of the couples we have seen viewed marriage in religious as well as economic terms. By choosing a mate from the same religious background they could be assured of a common viewpoint on the nature of marriage and their role in it. Since church-going and church activities also provided frequent opportunity for social contact, it is not surprising that marriage within a common religious group was the most common scenario. Tolerance was a rare commodity, and the Protestant views of Catholics, especially, were often very negative. The level of tolerance exhibited by the Papineau and Westcott families was therefore the exception rather than the rule, and even in this case, grew with experience; it was not initially present when the young couple first expressed their desire to marry. Ultimately, the determining factor for courtship to end in marriage was love. Couples rejected the idea of marrying without it. They advanced love as a reason for wanting to meet and to court. A few of them fell in love with someone they did not know. More commonly, they chose from among their acquaintances someone they felt they could love and proceeded from there. The initial courtship period gave

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them time to decide how they felt about each other. If they felt love for one another, they would go on to a formal commitment or engagement. The greater latitude they were allowed during their engagement in terms of time alone and in terms of the topics they could discuss gave them a chance to deepen their relationship and get to know each other better. They could end their engagement rather than proceed to marriage, but only with great difficulty. Most would continue on to that next phase once they had met the practical requirements necessary for setting up a new household and family.

2

Marriage

In 1844, when William Spalding of Perth, Upper Canada, married Isabella Smith only seven months after his wife died, he knew he might be subjected to community disapproval. The couple tried unsuccessfully to "slip home in the dark quietly avoiding a charivari. But in this they were mistaken ... horns, bells, and old pans were soon heard all over the town, making music anything but harmonious ... [Spalding] was glad to give them something to eat and drink, and three dollars besides, to get quit of them."1 The first entry in the chronicle of events for the year 1833 kept by notary Francois-Hyacinthe Seguin in Terrebonne, Lower Canada, was the marriage of Augustin Malboeuf, aged fifty, to the widow of Nicolas Marchand, a woman of sixty-eight years. Tongues had been wagging, and the word was out that they would be greeted by a charivari that night. Four days later Seguin described what happened: The charivari feared by the newlyweds, Aug. Malboeuf and Widow Marchand effectively took place since the night of their wedding up until yesterday inclusive. The noisemakers were originally composed of only 7 or 8 persons, masked and disguised, with a following of curious spectators, but this number then increased to fifteen or so and the spectators in like proportion such that, to gain their peace, the newlyweds were obliged to bring in a mediator to negotiate with these gentlemen as to their conditions. After strong negotiation a deal was finally struck and the parties agreed to a payment of three Louis, one for the costs of the charivari and two to be distributed to the poor of the place. The newlyweds may in the future enjoy peacefully all the joys of their union.2

These incidents serve as a reminder that marriage was a community concern in the period studied. The custom of holding charivaris, common in New France and Lower Canada, had spread to Upper Canada and continued well into the nineteenth century. Widows or widowers

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6l

who, like Mr Spalding, remarried too soon after the death of their spouse could expect to be chastized in this ritualistic fashion. Accepting to make the payment demanded by the crowd brought charivaris and community disapproval to an end. When victims tried to defy the crowd, however, activity usually intensified, and in some cases violence ensued.3 "Ill-assorted" marriages, where the disparity in age of the couple was great and there was also a hint of marrying for money, were almost certain to meet with a charivari in Lower Canada. In this way the community rebuked and punished those who appeared to be transgressing against the sanctity of marriage.4 For most couples, however, the celebration of their marriage was a happy occasion that brought together family and friends. In rural Lower Canada weddings were the occasion for dancing and celebration that might last several days. Young people from across the parish did not require an invitation to join in, despite the clergy's opposition to such practices.5 In other milieus some weddings were low key, with only a few guests in attendance. When family and friends did not live nearby, the ceremony might be followed by a wedding trip to visit family. Only rarely did couples in this period begin married life with a private honeymoon that separated them from friends and kin. Marriage was clearly an important social and community event, not just a private matter. Couples then began their domestic life together. Although this was usually in a separate residence, most households in the first half of the nineteenth century contained servants, "help," or other extras at least some of the time.6 Domestic life did not mean a retreat into a private world. THE PRELIMINARIES

Most couples viewed marriage as a spiritual union and chose to be married in a religious rather than a civil ceremony. The churches also played a role in restricting marriage choices to those outside the consanguine family and prohibiting marriages to certain categories of affines. To marry the sister of one's deceased wife, for example, would be prohibited.7 In Lower Canada the bishops equally opposed marriages to a deceased spouse's cousins and marriages of first cousins.8 The practice of publishing banns common to both the Roman Catholic and Anglican churches was to guard against prohibited matches. The Catholic clergy could find it difficult to impose such regulations in long-settled communities, however, where dispensations for the marriage of cousins especially were often requested. Allan Greer found that in some cases the habitants forced the issue by setting up housekeeping together, "knowing that their parish priest would move quickly to

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quell the scandal by legitimising their union."9 In Batiscan and SainteAnne, requests for dispensations began in the 1740s. In the early nineteenth century marriages between second and third cousins were not questioned, but the clergy resisted approving first-cousin marriages. One couple who forced the issue by living together were given permission to marry but only after a separation of three months and a humiliating public penance.10 The granting of dispensations varied from region to region, but the strong opposition of the church to first-cousin marriages was more effective in the first half of the nineteenth century than the second half.11 The decision to marry and the provision of an economic base for the support of a family were interdependent. If a couple did not have the means of supporting themselves, they had to delay their marriage until they could. When John Moodie wrote to Susanna Strickland saying that he would do everything he could to make it possible for them to be united, he was referring to his economic situation.12 The couple's economic strategy involved emigration to Upper Canada, where they settled in the "backwoods." Throughout the first half of the nineteenth century land there was readily available, and establishing a farm did not necessarily mean having to wait until fathers were willing to part with their farms. In Upper Canada, fathers almost always left their farms to a son rather than a daughter, but often this was subject to the obligation of paying any siblings for their share of the inheritance and supporting the mother if she survived her husband. This "Canadian" system of inheritance was costly for those sons who inherited, the real cost being the equivalent on average "of at least three years' cash income from a hundred acre farm." 13 Although equal inheritance practices prevailed in Lower Canada, which remained under French civil law and the Custom of Paris, in practical terms the situation was much the same. Parents helped to establish their sons on land as they reached an age to marry and provided their daughters with movable goods. These were considered an advance on the inheritance and would have to be taken into account when an inventory of the couple's property was carried out after the death of a spouse and preliminary to determining the value of the inheritance.14 Such practices help to account for late ages at marriage in both Upper and Lower Canada. Although these were on average slightly lower than those found in Europe, they nonetheless followed the Western European marriage pattern.15 Whereas in Europe a fairly high proportion of the population never married at all, this was not the case in eighteenth and early nineteenth century Canada.16 Remarriage, however, was already less likely for women than men in Lower Canada by the nineteenth century.17 In Upper Canada, where the marriage market

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was more favourable to women than to men with 145 males to every 100 females from fifteen to thirty-nine years of age in 1851,18 this trend was probably delayed until later in the century. In Lower Canada, property rights after marriage and family law were regulated by the Custom of Paris. Unless a marriage contract specified otherwise, the assets of both the bride and groom, with the exception of real property held before the marriage or inherited afterwards, were held in a joint ownership called a community of goods (communaute de biens). The husband was responsible for administering both community assets and those of his wife, but he could not sell or alienate property without her permission. Although couples choosing a community of goods did not have to sign a marriage contract, they could elect to do so if they wanted to set specific amounts aside for the support of the widow (douaire prefix) or surviving spouse (preciput).19 When Ludger Duvernay was planning to get married, he consulted his uncle as to the best format for his marriage contract. He was advised to have the goods that were brought into the marriage by Mlle Harnois estimated by two parties and to have that amount recognized as hers and exempted from the community property. She would then control this money through her will. Duvernay could also give her a "douaire" of £300 and a "preciput" of £150. 2° After the passing of the Registry Act of 1841, a widow's general dower right on all of her husband's property was eliminated, and only the douaire prefix in a registered marriage contract would stand.21 The practice of signing a marriage contract, almost universal in New France, decreased in the nineteenth century. In Montreal, immigration and an increase in the number of people without property led to fewer couples signing a marriage contract after 182o. The number signing a contract was much higher among the bourgeoisie than in other groups, however. There were advantages for those with property in having a contract even when they elected for a community of goods. By 1840, however, half of the couples with a contract chose to keep their property separate (separation de biens). By this simple contract they achieved what required a much more complex agreement under common law. The separation of goods gave women more control over their own property. It also protected the assets of one spouse from the creditors of the other. Some of the family's assets could thus be protected from the vagaries of business. Not surprisingly, Bettina Bradbury has found that those who were bourgeois and merchants increasingly chose this regime. This included a growing number of French couples and almost all of the English couples who signed contracts. "22 John Ashworth and Julia Philips were among the elite who signed a contract and chose to remain separate as to property. In their

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Fig. z.i The family of John Ashworth and Julia Philips shown in front of their home, Belmont Lodge, near Aylmer, Quebec, c. 1865-75. NAC PA-I 17308.

contract he made her an outright donation of the furniture, glassware, silver, carpets, books, and other household items they had valued at £2.3 5.3.9.23 Mary Westcott and Amedee Papineau also chose a regime of separation of property. In their marriage contract the surviving spouse was awarded an annual income of us$6oo.24 In Upper Canada, couples married under English common law. Under that jurisdiction, the husband represented the couple in all legal matters and had control over their property. He was limited only in that he could not sell his wife's real property without her consent. All her personal property, however, became his to do with as he pleased. The wife had dower rights to a third of her husband's real property, which accounts for the care with which compensation to the widow was delineated in wills leaving that property to a son.25 To subtract oneself from the provisions of common law, a marriage settlement or agreement was required that placed a woman's property in a trust. Equity law would then apply.26 As this was a costly alternative, the majority of people married under common law. The first Married Women's Property Act passed in 1859 was extremely conservative and intended primarily to "eliminate the problems faced by women married to abusive, irresponsible men, while simultaneously preserving family unity and the authority of the husband."27 Indirectly, the ideal of a companionate marriage supported these changes. Husbands were

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expected to treat their wives with love and respect, and abusive behaviour was not acceptable. Within marriage, however, the husband maintained his economic superiority over his wife as helpmate.28 In his correspondence with Jane Van Norman, Dunham Emery mentioned that he wanted to consult with Jane's parents before their marriage. He may have had a marriage settlement in mind, but to Jane he merely writes: "And while some are for revolutionizing and disunion I am for uniting and consolidating and in accordance with these views and feelings intend soon to confer with your Father and Mother on the subject of this very important union which has been long long in comtemplation."29 What is interesting here is that although Jane has been independent from her parents for some time, it is with her parents that he wants to discuss these matters, not with her. The only clear reference to the establishment of a trust I have found is in the correspondence of William Douglas. The fact that he was a lawyer would have made him more familiar with this option and reduced the cost of such an agreement. When he began to make final preparations for his marriage to Jane, he wrote to his family and told them about her, sending her carte de visile home.30 He also began making arrangements for a settlement for her, choosing to do so by writing to her father, even though he was away from home, rather than discussing it with either Jane or her mother, "ladies not being quite up to that sort of thing."31 But he believed that it was unfair for any "girl" to get married without some kind of provision for the future. As he explained to her father, "I want before Jane & I get married to make some provision for her so that in the event of my death, or becoming embarrased in any way she will be provided for - to a limited extent at least."32 Although he had every expectation of being able to make a "competance," he admitted to a touch of mania for speculation, recognizing that this could lead to his ruin, as it had others. What he proposed was that some property he already owned worth $3,000 be conveyed to trustees for her and any family they might have, and that he would agree to convey more in the next 'ten years until the amount reached an aggregate of $13,000. He also had an insurance policy on his life for $1,000 and proposed to buy a joint insurance policy of $2,ooo after they married. One of his brothers would act as trustee; the other should be someone of Jane's choosing, perhaps Mr Hudson himself. He then asked for consent to their union, conditional to these arrangements being made. Family law in both Upper and Lower Canada was patriarchal. Marriage transferred responsibility for the support of a woman from the father to the husband. The way in which both Dunham Emery and William Douglas express themselves on this matter reflects the extent

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to which their thinking is framed by that ideology. Their intentions, however, are entirely benevolent and indicate that they were accepting responsibility for the well-being of their wives and the children who would follow their marriage. Notions of masculinity in this period were closely linked to the ideal of being a good provider.33 A marriage contract or settlement was therefore an important preliminary step to marriage for those with property. We can thus understand why the signing of the marriage contract in rural Lower Canada was traditionally viewed as such an important occasion. Although the concerns of farmers and those of the rising middle-class were different, all shared the need to make the best arrangements possible for their children and to pass on their property to the next generation. The uncertainty as to when death might occur meant that those arrangements should be in place from the marriage's outset. Given the nature of marriage law, however, we can also see why it was that parents had an interest in the marriage choices of their children, especially their daughters, and why some chose to place property in trust for their daughters rather than trust to the administration of their son-in-law. The ability of parents to intervene on behalf of their daughters was severely curtailed after the marriage in cases of marital discord and abuse or mismanagement of property. Cases of amicable separation were rare, and the courts in Upper Canada awarded with great reluctance support payments to spouses who left their husbands.34 In Lower Canada a wife could obtain a separation of goods in cases of extreme mismanagement of her property and a separation of bed and board (separation de corps) in cases of severe abuse. The rulings of nineteenth-century judges, however, were similar to those under common law, according to Backhouse.35 The best guarantee for a happy married life remained the choice of a good spouse. THE WEDDING

Diaries and correspondence covering the period of courtship often end just prior to the wedding. Ward's study, Courtship, Love, and Marriage, which is based primarily on such correspondence, does not extend into married life. Although the diaries and family correspondence used here allow us to enter into this almost uncharted territory for Upper and Lower Canada,36 the actual ceremony and the period after it are definitely more difficult to document than the period of courtship. There are few details, for example, on the dress of the bride. The Notman collection includes several portraits of brides who wore white dresses in the 186os (see figs. 2.2, 2.3), but prior to this, most brides, like that shown in the Wilcox and Mead wedding party at Nia-

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gara Falls (fig. 2.4), must have worn other colours.37 Without this identifying feature it is impossible to know if other portraits of young couples (fig. 2.5) were taken at the time of their wedding. As for the timing of weddings, we know that in Catholic communities weddings followed both a seasonal and a weekly calendar. Monday and Tuesday weddings were most common, and virtually none were celebrated on Fridays and Sundays. A decline in the number of weddings in March and December marked adherence to the prohibition of marriages during Lent and Advent. Through to the mid-nineteenth century, winter weddings, concentrated in February, were preferred.28 The number of weddings examined here is not sufficient to determine a pattern in practices. What is common to all of them, however, is that they were celebrated with family and friends, in as much as possible. For the elite, a large society wedding would have been essential. These were events not to be missed. Mrs Lafontaine was willing to change her travel plans to attend the Monday wedding of her friend, Mile Leprohon, an indication of its importance to her. Unfortunately she does not describe the ceremony when writing to her friend, Reine Duvernay. She mentions, however, that she wore her beautiful velour dress with long sleeves.39 When William Price's daughter Caroline prepared to get married, she enlisted the help of her aunt in London to obtain the things she needed. She wanted the best and neglected to restrict her aunt as to the amount to be spent. Giving an accounting of these expenses to her brother, Caroline Hewlett wrote: Caroline's box, with all the receipted accounts of its contents will have reached her, and you will know they together amount to upwards of £ 146. !! - as soon as I had her letter with the wedding wants enumerated, I set about getting them, and as they were all to be of the best, and I was not, at the time, restricted to any particular sum I did my best, both as to quality, & the ready money allowance on my prompt payment, - but I have, I find, far exceeded your expectations, and the list I have by this last packet received from dear Mary, of commissions for her Mother, herself, & Janey, will upon a rough calculation cost another £40. at least, - so that I have no residue for the proposed wedding present from you, but I will gladly advance the money adding it to the other outlay, and wait your own time of payment.40

The cost of weddings such as these clearly limited them to the rich. The weddings attended by Jewish merchant Abraham Joseph, both in the Jewish community and outside of it, seem to have been equally lavish. Abraham travelled from Quebec to Montreal to attend the wedding of Samuel Hort to Emily Hart on Wednesday, 28 August 1839. The ceremony was held in the synagogue, which was crowded

Fig. 2.2 William Notman, Mrs. George Shaw, Montreal, QC, 1864. Notman Photographic Archives, 1-13770, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal.

Fig. 2.3 William Notman, James Taylor's Wedding Group, Montreal, QC, 1864. Notman Photographic Archives, 1-11785, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal.

Fig. z.4 The Wilcox and Mead Wedding Party at Niagara Falls, 1867, Butterfield &C Butterfield, NAC PA-i96i59-

Fig. i-5 Henry Henderson, Portrait of a Young Couple, c. 1864-97. National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa, no. 12834.

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with friends and relatives. There were four bridesmaids and four groomsmen. After the ceremony the company went on to the "Town House" for an elaborate breakfast where "every possible rarity to be had in Montreal & New York was to be seen - Champaigne in abundance - the usual quantum of speeches not wanting." Although this official party broke up at two in the afternoon, the celebration continued. At six the Harts served a "sumptuous dinner" after which the toasting, drinking, speaking and singing continued. The couple left for their cottage at 10 P.M. The celebrating went on at both places into the night.41 Fanny David and Theodore Hart, also Jewish, were married at Harmony Cottage in Three Rivers, the home of the bride's brother with whom she lived. They had four attendants each. Held on a Tuesday morning, the ceremony was followed with "a sumptuous repast" accompanied by much toasting. The happy couple left around one o'clock to begin a trip across the Atlantic. The remainder of the company, after seeing them off, returned to Harmony Cottage where they cut the wedding cake and dined at five before they began dancing at seven. A late supper was served which ended around two in the morning. Although most of the gentlemen were already "pretty far gone," the dancing continued until four in the morning.42 The non-Jewish wedding of James McGill Blackwood in 1841 was also elaborate, with four bridesmaids and groomsmen, one of whom was Abraham Joseph. The wedding ceremony, performed by the Reverend Dr Bethune, took place at the home of the bride at four on a Saturday afternoon. Although the groomsmen missed out on the kisses they were "entitled to" from the bridesmaids, they had fun trying to make good on this the rest of the evening. The cake was cut and served. Dancing began after the ceremony and continued again after the "sumptuous" supper served at eleven. Everyone left at midnight. The following day the couple dined at her parents along with a few friends. Her father took out "his very best wine" to celebrate. (Although no account of the Taylor wedding, the party shown in figure 2.3, has been found, it seems similar to this one.) The next day being Monday, Abraham Joseph expected to find his friend Blackwood at the office, but when he was not there called on him at home instead. The new Mrs Blackwood refused to stand on ceremony and greeted him in her morning dress.43 Thus we see that the wedding celebration was not limited to the day of the ceremony. In this case the couple seem to have settled into their married life immediately after the wedding. Other weddings might not have been as lavish, but they were festive events with friends and relatives gathering from some distance to

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celebrate. Mary Ann Bellamy's marriage to James Dowling in 1855 was an example of such a wedding. Her stepmother described it as follows: Tuesday 2oth Maryan Bellamy hav married to James Dowling, in the presence of her nearest connection, by the Revd R. Boyd of Prescott, our Company number'd about 50 every thing pass'd off well, at 12 oclock prayer, and the company dispersed, next morning, felt very tired, however much was to be done, after breakfast and worship Mr and Mrs Boyd returned to Prescott, after dinner at which was a number, Bride and bridegroom went to her Grand-fathers, this morng Charlott and Edward Bellamy left for home.44

In contrast, when Eliza Bellamy's son William got married, he wrote to tell her about the upcoming event only a month in advance. He stopped to visit her and the family en route to the ceremony, but none of them attended.45 Traditionally, the location of the wedding is determined by the bride's parents. This seems to hold true here, but there is little direct evidence on the subject. Dunham Emery, at least, had clear preferences on this matter. Asking Jane where "that all important event" would take place, he suggested that it should not be in Burlington, because that would not be treating Jane's "country friends with respect." He thought her father's home would be best because "there would be time for all who wished to be there to do so and then take the afternoon boat at Oakville and visit Sarah Ann on our journey."46 Although brides seem to also have had the final say on the date of their marriage, this was subject to a number of constraints, as is evident in the case of William Douglas and Jane Hudson. Having decided to marry early in their courtship, they had to wait until he was more established. She would get to set the date for their marriage, but only once he was ready for her to do so. First there were delays because of his financial situation: I have to express to you my love my regret that I fear I shall not be able to get my affairs arranged so that we can be married this month. I am exceedingly sorrowful that I have not been more successful in doing so. but it seems almost impossible ... I have a large amount standing out due to me payment of which was promised me early this fall - & on which I relied Well I have hitherto been deceived but I trust only for a short time ... I owe a few small debts - & I want to settle all these, and begin a new. When we are married cutting all my old bad practices - of course you will see the propriety of this darling - I trust now that in a few weeks at farthest I shall ask you to fix a time for our marriage.47

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Difficulty in finding a house meant they again had to push the date onward. Then, as final plans were being made, William received word that his niece Isabella was very ill. She died in March. Having by this time settled on a May wedding, they had to decide if this would still be acceptable. William wrote: "This sad death would have been the means of postponing it for some time had it been fixed sooner - This will allow plenty of time for everything & for some a little of the heavy grief that is felt by us all to pass off -1 do not suppose they will deem that too soon."48 Jane pointed out that Wednesday was the best day for getting married, and proposed the 6th or the 13th of May, the earlier the better. Although she worried that his "friends and father" might find it too soon after Isabella's death, she also pointed out that it would be a very quiet occasion, neither of them wanting it otherwise. Looking forward five weeks into the future she wrote: "wont it be a happy day darling, the day on which the greatest event of our life is to happen."49 But at the end of April, it looked like their house would still not be ready on time if they married on the 6th.5° This may be when they decided to take a wedding trip, as this would get them out of Chatham until the house was ready. William Douglas married Jane Hudson on Wednesday, 6 May 1863, in a ceremony performed in Toronto by the Reverend William Gregg.51 Things did not go quite as planned, however, because the minister arrived late. Jane handled herself well under these trying circumstances, showing some emotion but not falling apart.52 Although they decided to marry in May 1845, Mary Westcott and Amedee Papineau had to wait a year before the actual event. The delay was to accommodate the wishes of her parents who felt that they wanted her with them for a while longer before letting her go. In effect, her father refused to agree to an earlier wedding date. In James Westcott's view, no engagement had been recognized until May 1845, and at that time it came as a sudden change, since he had thought the meeting in New York would be a final parting for them. His reasons for refusing an earlier wedding were primarily emotional: "The separation from my daughter at any time, would make my heart bleed, but the time you mention, so close at hand, I cannot even give it a thought. The next spring I had supposed might be the time for the consummation of your wishes, to a period earlier than that I cannot consent, let it be as early as May if you please, if the travelling is practicable."53 Mary would also need time to get ready and to make many visits to family connections. "Mary is my only one and I must for once exercise, decidedly, a control, which will soon, in the same sense, be mine no longer."54 Amedee Papineau had no choice but to accept this decision, although he had hoped to avoid spending another winter alone. He spent sever-

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al days with Mary again in September, when he went to meet his father on his arrival from Europe.55 Over the winter the couple corresponded frequently and sent each other copies of local newspapers. Preparation for their marriage proceeded. Amedee hoped to obtain a dispensation for a Catholic marriage, writing to the Bishop of New York, but that was refused.56 In May he journeyed to Saratoga to see to last-minute details and to sign a marriage contract. This was done in the presence of numerous friends who signed with them as witnesses.57 The wedding itself was set for Wednesday, 2o May 1846. Amedee requested a week's holiday for the occasion. He travelled to Saratoga with his father and brother Lactance leaving on 17 May and arriving the morning of 19 May. The day was spent in many final preparations, and the family and friends already present had dinner at the Westcotts' home. Thirty or so guests58 arrived the following day, "le jour supreme." The Reverend Mr A.T. Chester, a Presbyterian minister, officiated in the parlour (salon) of the Westcott home at 9:30 in the morning, possibly the room shown in figure 1.9. The ceremony consisted of a few words on the institution of marriage, the giving of the ring, the union of the hands, and the sacramental words, followed by a short prayer. From beginning to end it took no more than fifteen minutes. The groomsman, Lactance Papineau, separated the pieces of the wedding cake, which were distributed to the guests. Mary detached flowers from a large arrangement, and these were presented to the ladies.59 Refreshments were served and slowly the guests began to depart. The newlyweds began to prepare to leave for their wedding tour.60 When friends and relatives attended a wedding, they did so as witnesses to an important social event in their social circle. Their attendance implied that they approved of the union and wished the couple well. Members of each family welcomed their new relatives and friends into their family and social circle. We can imagine that the intensity of these moments was as great in the past as it often is today. A few lines in a diary such as Frances Tweedie's hardly does justice to the event. Amedee Papineau's description of his wedding day is far more detailed, but it remains largely descriptive. It is from those who could not attend a wedding and sent their congratulations in writing, and from family letters immediately after a wedding, that we can occasionally find an expression of the feelings of family members and their good wishes for the couple. Jane Hudson's father, for example, could not attend her wedding but wrote her a brief note thereafter wishing her well: I received your welcome letter, and am glad to find by it that you are so happy, may God bless you and Wiliam is my prayer for without it all earthly riches

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and honours is but poverty and empty sound, you will no doubt know by this that I have left the highland trade ... It cheers me to hear that you are well altho I have no hope of ever seeing you in this life but we must look forward to a better, where we shall meet to part no more. I know my darling Jane will follow the example that her loving mother has given her and be a good dutiful wife and love her husband and try in every way to make him happy ... [N]ow my own darling you must not forget me, try and remember you have a pa still that loves you and that always remembers you in his prayers, write to me and let me know how you like the part of the country where you live, give my best love to William and accept the same from your affectionate father.61

William and Jane Douglas received a congratulatory letter from William's brother George in Iowa addressed "Dear brother & sister." George was glad William had married because he would be "more comfortable." He can't resist a bit of teasing, however, and says that if his wife is as good and as good looking as he thinks, she got cheated in getting him. He also refers to their wedding trip and is glad that they enjoyed themselves. He wishes them a long "Honeymoon" which he explains lasts until the first quarrel. He was therefore still in his honeymoon, and sets that up as a challenge to William, who was always considered a better boy than George when at home. He wishes them "many long days together in happiness and plenty" before going on to news and other matters.62 William's brother John also wrote to congratulate him on "the great event in your life." He added he did not think it necessary to tell him that they all wished him happiness. He also sent his "kindest love" to William's wife but did not know her name. He added: "Come down soon as we want to see our Sister."63 Marriage created new links between families, not just the actual couple. Caroline Price therefore felt that she could ask her Aunt Caroline in London to treat her future mother-in-law, Mrs Torrens,' well. That hospitality was rewarded with what Aunt Caroline considered to be sincere affection: Mrs Torrens expresses herself in the warmest terms of approbation as regards myself, my menage, and all the cousins she has, during the last week, met at my house, - Caroline bade me do all I could for the credit of the family, & I have done her bidding by putting my house, carriage, &c,&c, at her command, she appreciates my cordiality, & says "that in seeking my acquaintance she has not only found a friend she shall ever value, but a sister she must love"! - it seems conceited & boastful to repeat this, but as I believe in her sincerity it will give you pleasure to hear it.64

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The correspondence of Mary Westcott Papineau after her wedding, discussed in more detail in chapter 3, indicates that she was welcomed and accepted into the Papineau family after her marriage. Mr Westcott also received Amedee Papineau as a son. A strong indication of equality of affines with consanguine kin is that the terms "sister" and "brother" as well as "mother" and "father" were used interchangeably for both in-laws and blood relations. The ties created by marriage were clearly considered to be as binding and significant as those established by blood. THE WEDDING TRIP

The wedding ceremony might be followed by a wedding trip, or the couple might simply move to their new home. The latter seems to be the case for Mary Ann and James Dowling; they did not leave immediately but first stayed for a few days with his parents. Parents or friends might accompany the new couple on their wedding tour, or they might choose to visit friends or family who could not be present at the actual ceremony. Dunham Emery, for example, had friends in New York and New Jersey he hoped to visit after his wedding, if he could get the time to do so, wanting to "let them see my most amiable and worthy Canadian wife."65 Unlike a honeymoon, which is private, the wedding trip was an extension of the wedding in time and space. The honeymoon was not unknown in this period, but it did not become prevalent until the second half of the nineteenth century.66 After their wedding William Douglas and his bride travelled to Boston where they stayed four days at the Parker House. Their stay there cost them $24.15 for a room, meals, and a carriage.67 This trip would probably qualify as a honeymoon. It was definitely a departure from what was expected of them, at least by William's family. His brother Donald expressed his disappointment at their not arriving as expected for a visit after the wedding. In June John wrote, regretting that a later visit had not materialized.68 Jane was able to smooth things over with them, and received a very nice letter from William's father for her efforts. With regards to their trip, he wrote: The tour you had must I am sure been pleasing & useful to you both. And I am sure you must feel thankful that you have both arrived home in safety for when we leave home we cannot tell what accident may befall any of us. But it is [a] pleasing as well as a comforting 6c consoling thought that we are always safe if we will only seek earnestly & sincerely that protecting care which our Kind Preserver has promised to exercise over all who ask it aright. And I do most sincerely hope my dear children that you are daily in

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the habit of devoutly supplicating that Blessing which maketh rich and addeth no sorrow,69

Amedee Papineau and his bride left the day of their wedding for their wedding tour, recounted in detail in Amedee's diary. The initial party consisted of the new couple, Mr and Mrs Westcott, and Louis-Joseph and Lactance Papineau. They journeyed together to Albany, where Amedee's father and brother left them for a few days' visit to New York. The other four continued on to Boston and the White Mountains. They spent their first night at the United States Hotel in Springfield, Massachusetts, described by Amedee as the best he had ever seen for both service and food. After a morning in Springfield, they travelled to Boston to stay in what was reputed to be its best hotel, although they found the service was poor. The next morning Mr Westcott and Amedee went out to see to some business matters and toured some of the more famous buildings in Boston. Later Amedee went out with the ladies, who had some purchases to make. They then joined Mr Westcott at the Chickering piano factory where he purchased for Mary one in rosewood valued at $450. The afternoon was spent in a carriage ride around Boston and area, courtesy of the son-in-law of their good friends, the Cushings. On the Saturday morning the newlyweds went shopping after breakfast, and later, joined by her parents, they visited other sites including the harbour, where Amedee saw a dry-dock for the first time, the Bunker Hill monument, and the Chinese museum. On Sunday they attended a Baptist service and visited friends. On Monday they again went shopping, but left Boston at 9 A.M. for Lowell. A fellow passenger acted as their guide to several of the factories when they arrived. From there they continued along the Merrimack to Nashua and to Concord, New Hampshire. In Concord they visited the Capital Building and the penitentiary, and were introduced to Colonel Pierce, who had known Amedee's father in 1838. He offered them his services as a guide. All four returned for a more extensive tour of the Capital Building. After depositing the ladies at the hotel, the men next visited the site of the railway construction, and especially the celebrated machine for excavation, an early front-end loader referred to as a "machine elephant." Later that day the party left for the White Mountains, arriving at Centre Harbor in the evening. They continued on Wednesday in the rain to Conway and Crawford. The following day they travelled to Willey House and through The Notch to stay at Mount Washington House that night. After spending the next day there, on Saturday they continued on to Haverhill where they spent Sunday. Leaving at 3:30 A.M., they went on to Montpelier, Waterbury, and Burlington. On the Tuesday,

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Amedee visited the railway construction site with Mr Westcott before their parting dinner. They drank to their respective healths with a bottle of champagne, and at 5 P.M. they boarded the steamboatWhitehall. When Mr and Mrs Westcott left the young couple an hour later, a few tears were shed. There being only one state-room, Mary slept with the other ladies. Arriving in Montreal on the morning of 3 June, they were met by Lactance and brought to the house on Bonsecour, where Mary met Amedee's mother for the first time. His grandmother had come from Verchere "to meet and congratulate 'her Amedee.' "7° Amedee's account of their wedding tour, taken from his diary, reflects his particular interests. Other than the piano, for example, there is no mention of the other items purchased, which may have been of significance to Mary. He places great emphasis on describing the territory through which they travel and the places and things that are of special interest to him, such as the dry-dock and the "machine elephant. " If we did not know it was a wedding tour, there would be little indication of this in the text itself. This is largely a reflection of the type of journal Amedee was keeping, which was not sentimental or focused on feelings so much as a daily record of events. The significance of this trip, however, was as a period of transition and public recognition of the married status of the couple. It did not function as a "honeymoon," which by contrast would have removed the couple into a private world of their own.71 When Mary wrote to her father about the trip, she naturally emphasized the events occurring after they parted. She enjoyed their tour, but it was the moment of separation from her parents at Burlington that was etched in her memory: "[T]he deepest anguish of spirit I ever felt was there, when I left you and Mother to return to you no more."72 When they landed at St John's, they went into town for breakfast where several of her husband's young friends came to join them. She found it quite romantic. This was followed by her first impression of her new home as they sailed towards Montreal. She could see "the towers of Notre Dame high in the heavens, & the multitude of shining roofs & the tumult of a city filled with ringing bells - it seemed to me another world - Indeed after you leave St Johns it seems another country - the peasantry, houses everything is vastly different." Then came the moment she had been dreading. She would meet her new relations, especially her mother-in-law, Julie Papineau, for the first time. Fortunately, a "most warm & affectionate greeting awaited one," and this turned out to be "a thrilling pleasure." After an hour "en famille," they went to get settled in their new home, but returned for a family party after dinner. Mary was therefore able to reassure her father, "I had feared all this so much - that it is almost a wonder to me

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now - I never felt more at ease in my own dear home than in the family circle I have now entered - Every thing is so well understood & easily done that one feels at home at once."73 That week they were not expected to receive calls except from the family, so she would have some time to settle in. But a newly married couple, especially in the elite social circle the Papineau family belonged to, had an obligation to receive wedding calls. These began the following week, and by Thursday, when Mary wrote to her father again, they had received about sixty and expected at least as many again. She thought of this as a rather unpleasant business, but fortunately she did not feel embarrassed, as she often had at home.74 These calls ended on the 16th of June, after which those who came would simply leave their cards.75 She was looking forward to what she described to her father as "a grand party &c ball to be given in honor of my honorable self" by Julie Papineau the following night. Interestingly enough, her husband's journal entry that day indicates that the ball was in honour of the marriage of Louis-Joseph Papineau's eldest son.76 Mary was given as a wedding present from Julie Papineau a "splendid Brocade silk dress" to wear to this ball and she was told that hers would be the finest gown there. And so the young Mrs Papineau made her debut into Montreal bourgeois society or, as she called it, her "grand entree in the gay world."77 The many calls received would have to be returned, and it was July before these were completed. The new couple had numerous other social obligations, attending balls and dinners as well as continuing to visit friends and family. These obligations were more onerous for Amedee than when he was single. After three months he resigned from the "Societe des Amis" because he could no longer maintain the level of commitment required.78 The flow of events from the time of Amedee Papineau and Mary Westcott Papineau's marriage exemplifies well the social nature of marriage and the alliance it creates between two families. By accompanying their daughter on her wedding tour, Mary's parents had the opportunity to get to know Amedee better. The young couple's first obligation when they arrived in Montreal was to introduce Mary to her new family, especially her mother-in-law. Even the grandmother made it a point to be on hand to receive the bride. This was followed by social calls from friends, who thereby not only received Mary into their social circle but also acknowledged Amedee's new status as a married man and male head of a household. The ball given in their honour by Amedee's parents played a similar role and was particularly important because the wedding had not taken place in Montreal. It would be easy to see only the brocade and velour dresses and the

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expensive jewellery, but there was also important social "work" going on. Although the social groups involved were different, a similar process would have occurred when Mary Ann Dowling arrived "home" with her new husband and when Jane Hudson Douglas arrived in Chatham. S E T T I N G UP A H O M E

Both in law and in practice, it was the husband who decided where the new couple would live. Jane Hudson would join William Douglas in Chatham where he had established his law practice. The winter before they married he began searching for a "cottage" for Jane and himself, but with little success. In February he told her that several houses would be available after April ist. Only one turned out to be really suitable, however, and it would not be vacated before the middle of the month. He wrote, frustrated: "I can get no other place here where I could take you to well - I would not let you board at the hotel here and really I do not know what to do - I am desirous we should if possible be married before that time - if you are agreeable I have furniture and all ready to furnish a house with."79 It is interesting to note here that he also made the arrangements regarding furniture, giving her little choice in the matter. When they returned from their wedding trip, Jane settled into Chatham with William and began her duties as his wife and housekeeper. A neat page listing items and their prices remains as the only indication of her role in this area. For Amedee and Mary, getting settled did not yet mean setting up housekeeping in their own home. Instead they took up residence in three adjoining rooms of the Donegana Hotel in Montreal. One served as Amedee's dressing room, one was their bedroom, and the third was their parlour, where they also had their meals. These were sent up to them from the hotel. The furnishings in these rooms would have been their own, including the piano purchased in Boston as well as curtains and rugs. Everything had been chosen with care and with a view as to where it would be placed; the trend in the nineteenth century was for furniture to serve a more specific use than in earlier periods.80 Different styles were available, but Mary did not indicate concern about style so much as the materials and colour: rosewood and maroon plush.81 Her selections had been made before her marriage and sent up to Montreal.81 Her father paid for it all, including small items purchased later in Montreal.83 In October, the couple's household effects were insured to a value of £3oo.84 Their arrangements suited the new couple quite well at first, but after a winter at the hotel they were no longer as pleased. Mary suggested

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that their landlord, Mr Donegana, was probably "so indifferent about pleasing his winter boarders" because there was little profit in it. Their table had been so poor that Madame Papineau often supplemented their fare. That day she had sent a veal cutlet for their lunch.85 By February they had been told that over the summer months they could not be kept for less than $100 per month. Amedee thought they could live in their own home for less, but of course there would be a cost to setting up and then they would also have to receive on occasion, which would add to the expenses. If they decided to take a house, his mother would allow them to have "old Margaret" as a cook, which would be a great help. But having heard the complaints of women who had gone into "housekeeping" in Montreal, Mary felt she would willingly put it off for a year. For her the main attraction of having their own home would be that she could have her parents stay with her when they visited, and perhaps by her making them more comfortable, they would also stay longer.86 The decision was made in favour of a house. They then had to find a suitable property and make the necessary arrangements for the move. They chose a house at the edge of the city87 at 2. Beaver Hall Terrace, which they liked except for its distance from Amedee's office. The house itself had "a bath, water closet - & water carried to the third story." It was "handsomely papered & painted - with white marble mantle pieces &c - & [was] throughout well furnished."88 They planned to have three servants: Margaret, the Papineau family servant, as a cook, Mary's maid, and the waiter who served their table. During the week in May when they moved, Amedee spent much of his time at household auctions of which there were three or four per day.89 The move went well, but they were delayed in setting things in order by painters and carpenters and because they were waiting for some carpets from ships that had not yet arrived.90 Once she was settled in her own home, Mary anticipated having to entertain more and had the silver and china she inherited from her mother sent to her.91 The costs of the move and setting up their own house caused them to worry about expenses more than usual. Mary assured her husband that she did know the meaning of "economy" and could practice it, even if she had not been called upon to think about it very much. There would also be problems regarding servants to resolve; there was a question as to how long they could keep "old Margaret." Mary's response was that if Margaret left, she was gone for good.91 Mary Westcott Papineau had more say in the furnishing of her house than did Jane Hudson Douglas. This was undoubtedly because Mary's father paid for the furniture and it was chosen before the marriage. Like Jane, however, her first residence had been chosen for her before

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she arrived. But both she and her husband went looking at houses, and that choice was a joint one. It was Amedee, however, who went to auctions and chose the additional pieces they needed. It is impossible to generalize based on these cases alone, but it is likely that when marriages were companionate in nature, brides had more say in those decisions that were legally their husbands' to make.

3

Housekeeping and Household Production

Nineteenth-century couples referred to "going into housekeeping" when they planned to set up and maintain their own household. Housekeeping in this period meant the tasks required for the support of the family rather than just those required for maintaining the home. "This was a project in which both cash-earning and cash-saving activities were important."1 It was therefore something which couples entered into together, not the sole responsibility of the wife. It required a reliable income, usually provided by the husband's work. Although for the middle classes this work was increasingly done outside the home, many artisans, farmers, and even professionals continued to work in the context of the domestic economy. Whether women contributed directly to their husbands' productive or professional work or simply managed the household, their contribution was essential. Conversely, the income provided by the husband was essential to the housewife's management of the household. Before they could go into housekeeping, a couple had to acquire the basics in the way of furniture, linens, and dishes. A house could be either rented or purchased. z Marriages were often delayed until such time as a young man could afford the expenses of his own household, whether or not parents helped out with its initial setting up. Although husbands chose the house3 and took an active role in its furnishing, the task of managing the house and the servants, if there were any, was the responsibility of the wife in the nineteenth century.4 This did not mean that men did not occasionally help with that work, as Nancy Grey Osterud's study has shown, but the crossing of gender roles was more likely to be in the other direction. Farm wives would often be called upon to help with farm work when necessary.5 Wives also took over the supervision of their husbands' affairs in their absence.6 The wives' major tasks were the feeding and clothing of the family and other household members. House-cleaning was part of the work

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but did not have a high priority until later in the century. Clothing and household linen had to be kept clean, and the weekly wash was a major undertaking in most households.7 Dishes too had to be washed. Making items such as candles and soap might be added to the workload if these were not available or if they were too expensive. In the early nineteenth century, food preparation required considerable domestic labour. As cooking was done on fireplaces or wood stoves,8 it required great skill to manage the fire so as to have the desired heat, especially for baking. Most households, not only on farms and in rural villages but even in the city, would have had a garden for vegetables and perhaps an orchard. Even city dwellers kept cows and pigs for their family's use until these were banned later in the century.9 Butter and cheese were made in many households despite the labour involved.10 Some of this food had to be preserved for the winter, again adding to the housekeeper's tasks. Many households continued to produce wool and linen cloth, but increasingly fabrics were purchased." Most women's clothing and men's shirts were made at home, sometimes with the help of a hired seamstress. A drygoods merchant in Elora, Upper Canada, in 1833 is cited as saying "it would not pay to stock clothing, 'as the women make all the clothes required and the Emigrants bring out enough to last them some time.'"12 Being a householder also entailed responsibility in the community, and for housekeepers this often meant helping others in addition to doing one's own work. The work of the nineteenth-century housekeeper can therefore be divided into several areas: social tasks, management tasks, service provision, and productive tasks. Child-care tasks including nursing will be examined separately in section z and social tasks in section 3. All were important to the well-being of the family. That men would be more comfortable once they married was openly recognized, as was the value for farmers of having a wife: "Married persons are always more comfortable, and succeed sooner, in Canada, than single men; for a wife and family, so far from being a burden there, always prove sources of wealth. The wife of a new settler has many domestic duties to perform; and children, if at all grown up, are useful in various ways."13 The emphasis on the production of staples for export in Canadian historiography, however, has meant that much of the work that occurred in the home and outside the market economy has received little attention from historians.14 After examining the aspects of the production of food and clothing represented by "gristmilling, carding and fulling, tanning, distilling and brewing, and the crafts of shoemaking,

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tailoring, dressmaking, baking, and butchery," Douglas McCalla points out: "The remainder of the province's food and clothing either was produced at home and did not pass through the marketplace, or if market relationships were involved, was not captured by standard statistics. In either case, much of the work was done by women."15 Those who gathered statistics in the nineteenth century, in the census or otherwise, had little interest in local exchanges or production which was not for sale.16 For his examination of local exchanges, McCalla turned to farm diaries and account books.17 The work of pioneer and farm women is already well known based primarily on pioneer accounts by women such as Susanna Moodie, Anne Langton, and Mary O'Brien.18 My goal in looking at housekeeping here is not to replicate that work. What I am examining instead are those tasks that were seen from the subjective perspective of the writer as unusual enough to be worth mentioning in a diary or letter and the context in which these occur. It is thus possible to look at the management of servants, spring cleaning, food preparation, and the production of clothing and handicrafts. By looking not only at what tasks were done in the household but at who wrote about them, to whom and why, we can achieve a better perspective on how nineteenth-century housekeepers saw themselves and their tasks. SERVANTS

In New England the exchange of young women between families to help out was common, giving them the opportunity to learn housekeeping skills and to "mature outside the structure of immediate families."19 Even those from less fortunate homes hired into prosperous households in the rural towns would have been treated as members of the family. Girls of eleven or twelve were considered old enough to be hired out in this way. In Bonds of Community, Nancy Grey Osterud distinguishes between young women helping on neighbouring farms and those going to the city to work as servants. Jane Errington has made the same distinction for Upper Canada. Yet in 1841 Catherine Beecher's Treatise on Domestic Economy advocated a more formal relationship with servants.10 How did our correspondents and diarists view the people who worked for them? Did they see themselves as part of the same community and linked to them or did they see themselves as socially distant? In Eliza Bellamy's household the help were part of the family as in New England. When she sought a neighbouring girl to help her daughter out when she was ill, she was looking for "help." John Malloch's family in Perth, Upper Canada, hired girls from the neighbouring

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countryside. When Mary Campbell got sick and had to go home for a few days, John's wife decided to go with him to drive her, and the Mailochs had tea with Mary's parents. "They are very comfortable - good house - large farm," John wrote in his diary.11 Mary would also have been "help" rather than a servant. One might expect that Robert and Eliza Hoyle in rural Lower Canada would also be hiring help from the nearby community. Robert Hoyle's attitude, however, seems to reflect the view of Beecher and advice literature of the period. This is evident when Robert asks his wife not to let their daughter spend time in the kitchen with the servants, because they would be a bad influence on her." As attitudes to childrearing changed in the late eighteenth century and there was a growing recognition of the formative nature of their early years, parents worried about the possible negative impact of servants. "Unwisely selected servants could teach children bad habits and crude behaviour, weaken their mental and moral fiber, and coarsen their character and physical appearance."Z3 When servants were hired from a different class rather than from among the neighbours as "help," the concern would increase. In cities like Toronto and Montreal, wealthy families looked to hire servants rather than taking in help. The decision to have the servants eat separately from the family in the kitchen was an indication of this change. Although poor rural families sent their children to work as servants in the cities in the Canadas as in New England, the rise in immigration after the Napoleonic Wars meant that from the iSzos onward servants in cities were more likely to be of Irish origin. They were also young/4 Not surprisingly, then, they often needed to be trained before they could do satisfactory work. Those who were good often did not stay long. Edmund Antrobus, who seldom mentioned the servants in his diary, noted: "Hellen our Cook leaves us this evening after having lived with us zy months - she is an excellent girl and I am particularly sorry to loose her."15 Servants left for better jobs or to get married. From the middle-class perspective, then, there was a chronic "servant problem." Such problems usually meant more work for the housekeeper. How families faced the servant problem and the kind of servants they kept, therefore, must be seen as a significant element of family life. Very few of our sources provide us with much detail on this subject, however. The most detailed discussions come from the exchanges on that topic between Mary Westcott Papineau and her parents, who also faced servant problems on occasion. Although it is impossible to recreate accurately all of the changes in their household staff, the attitudes towards servants and their significance to the smooth running of the household can be seen.

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The first discussion Mary had with her parents on servants addressed the relative merits of Yankee and Irish servants. She had quickly learned to prefer the Irish: "I think the Yankees are miserable servants, the servile Irish make much better ones. Their neck is bowed to the yoke naturally & it is only after they have imbibed some Yankee notions that they are troublesome. I like the Irish, everyone of mine are from Erin-, Did I tell you that Garner is coming back to me?" 26 Although Irish servants understood their position better, there was a problem getting sober and trustworthy ones.27 A good and honest cook who was somewhat deficient in the kitchen was therefore kept, even when this meant hiring an old cook who worked by the day when they gave a dinner.28 Seeing the difficulties with servants of those around her,29 Mary felt quite pleased that her way of dealing with them seemed to be working, since "surely nothing is more laborious & vexatious than to have the actual service of a house devolving upon one-." Her plan for preserving peace belowstairs was to tell the cook when she was hired that the waiter saw to all the fires except the kitchen stove, but that if she made friends with him, he would bring her kindling and wood for her fire as well. She then told the waiter that if he was obliging to the cook and maid they would probably be willing to do his washing for him. "So I made them dependent one upon another- & they felt it was best to keep friends. "3° One problem that could not be solved with this type of management, however, was the marriage of servants. Less than a year after Mary hired her first servants, Anna married the waiter, Matthew, and left to go west to her sister. Mary admitted she missed her. Garner remained but she too planned to be married in the fall.31 New servants were always on trial. Shortly after hiring new ones, Mary returned home to find things in "TOLERABLE order" and the servants delighted to see her. The cook had improved and was very faithful. Their coachman, Michael, however, presented some problems even though he was fond of horses and looked after that business well.32 He was later dismissed and replaced by a man of thirty-five who seemed just what they required.33 Only a month later, however, Mary noted that they had changed their coachman because even if he knew his business well, he could not do anything else and there was not enough work for him with only one horse to care for. They then hired a Canadian who did not speak English but had good manners and a respectable appearance. He was also an excellent driver, which made Mary feel safe.34 Servants were in a difficult position if they became ill or injured. Not being members of the family, they would be let go if they could not

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work. When their servant John seriously injured his arm and could not use it,35 the Papineaus helped him occasionally, and hired his wife when they could.36 At Christmas they invited him and his family to eat turkey with the cook, and he seemed grateful.37 Later that winter he could still not use his wrist. Although Amedee tried to find work for him, this was hard. Amedee did, however, manage to get John's son a job as a messenger in the office with wages of $1.50 a week. This would help the family a little and was considered good wages for a boy of twelve.38 Such consideration for a servant who had been with them only a short time was probably more than what the man would have received from many employers. In 1852 Mary faced major changes in her staff again. They were looking for a good gardener. Their maid Ellen was leaving to go to her sister in New York. They might take on Anna's sister, even though she was more of a seamstress than a servant. Mary dreaded the trouble of the change, but would minimize it by getting Ellen to stay long enough to train the new maid to her ways. The cook was still there and the kitchen in its usual disorder, but she made first-rate "buckwheats" and so was appreciated in spite of her "few defects." They now had a good man to replace John;39 he did not last long, however, and Mary was soon looking to replace him. A Yankeefied Irishman dressed New York style and wearing white kid gloves was not what she was looking for, however. Mary admits that she sent Michael away mostly because he was "so awfully homely, 8t short & fat!" 4° Later, however, she writes that Amedee had sent Michael away after he had upset the carriage, probably because he had been drinking before driving. Although he was angry at being dismissed, they could not take the risk of keeping him.41 The two reasons for letting Michael go were quite different. If it were simply because Mary did not like his looks, this would underline how arbitrary the hiring and firing of servants was. On the other hand, if he had been responsible for an accident while inebriated, they would have every reason to let him go, since the safety of the family would have to come first. After the birth of her daughter Mary also took on a nurse. The first one did not last long, but Ellen, whom the baby called "Nelly," was well liked and the child soon became attached to her.41 This seems to have been an important criterion in judging Ellen satisfactory. In 1853 Mary also got a new cook. This one was tidy and economical, respectful and anxious to please, and the kitchen looked very different as a result. Mary also had a woman, Mme Viot, coming in every Monday to wash. The chambermaid then ironed the starched clothes and the cook the plain ones. The new man they hired came recommended by a friend. As Mary was anticipating her father's visit, she noted that

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although they had "quite a new set" of servants, things looked promising, and she added, "I shall have them all well drilled before you come."43 Her goal seems to have been to have servants who could be trusted to do the work and to get along with each other, so as to keep the household running as smoothly as possible. In this way she could be assured that when she did have guests, they would be well looked after and comfortable. The coming and going of staff in Mary Westcott Papineau's household was not unusual. Many young women chose to work in domestic service only until they were offered the option of becoming the mistress of their own home through marriage. Good servants had little difficulty finding employment and would leave if they were offered a better opportunity elsewhere. Only occasionally would a long-term reciprocal loyalty emerge between servant and employer. In such cases the servant virtually became part of the family. This was the case with "old Margaret" who had been with the Papineau family since Amedee was a child, and with the Moodies' servant "old Jenny." SPRING CLEANING

In the early nineteenth century, cleanliness was not an obsession. When a gentleman from Hamilton called on Ann Wrong, she wrote, "I felt rather that the house was not cleaner swept but we have no broom. I did not make any apology however."44 The soot and grime associated with heating the home in the winter, however, led most housekeepers to engage in a thorough cleaning in the spring. Spring cleaning included cleaning the house from top to bottom, airing bedding and curtains, taking down stoves, lifting carpets, and washing floors.45 Eliza Bellamy's spring cleaning took a week or less. On Thursday, 2.4 May, she noted that the "house [was] turned upside down" and that she was "whitewashing & cleaning." By Saturday she had finished, "the whole house cleaned."46 Eliza Bellamy also refers to cleaning out the cellar and feeling much better for it, and whitewashing, and papering the kitchen at other times of the year. Standards of cleanliness were increasing through the nineteenth century, but not all housekeepers met with these standards. Mary Westcott Papineau was surprised at the state of the house they rented on Beaver Hall Terrace. When they lifted the carpet, they found moths by the handful. She could not imagine this kind of negligence on the part of fashionable people. Her solution was to fill the cracks and crevices, wash the floors with lye, paint the edges of the carpets with turpentine, and put tobacco under them.47 She had to rid the house of cockroaches and mice as well. Evidently she discussed these problems with her

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mother when visiting Saratoga that summer and at first wrote home suggesting that her mother's recipe of a mixture of water with hellebore and molasses was the answer to get rid of the cockroaches.48 Later, she wrote that she was delighted to hear that the cockroaches were decreasing and asked her husband to put arsenic on bread for them before he left and chloride of lime in the rat holes.49 By Christmas she reported that she had made progress: the cockroaches were nearly gone, the mice vanquished, and the moths had been done "considerable injury" from the fumes of strong tobacco. She planned to finish them off by smoking the closets. The lack of cupboards in Mary's first house also meant extra work preparing for spring cleaning. She had lids made for packing boxes and lined them to store their bedding in. She hoped she could learn to be as good a housekeeper as her mother was but felt this was still in the future. But she also recognized that as a young housekeeper she had faced a considerable challenge to have been placed in quarters "where cockroaches, mice, flies, & moths were well established." She concluded, "It was surely a slovenly family who lived here before us, even were they ever so fashionable."50 Despite all of these problems, the Papineaus rented the house for a second year, at a reduced rent of £70. In the meantime Mary had heard of a very respectable man in town who called himself "the cockroach doctor" and warranted killing them all in a few weeks for $5. She thought that if they got bad in the warm weather, she would hire him. She was also amused to hear of someone whose profession was getting rid of rats: "We have all sorts of comical characters here. A man walks about town with "ratcatcher" in large letters on his back &c when he finds employment, he draws from his pocket his weazels, 8c sends them into the holes -& he charges so much a head, for dead rats & mice!! What a profession!!"51 Mary's father was not comfortable around spring cleaning and usually avoided the period when visiting.51 Mary tried to work around this. She worried that it might be too early to remove the stove before his visit, but she could not do the cleaning with it in the way.53 FOOD PRODUCTION

Food preparation was a daily task in all homes, whether by the housewife alone or with the help of children and servants. The practice through the early half of the nineteenth century was to have a breakfast, a dinner consisting of a hot meal at noon and a tea or supper in the evening. This is consistent with practice in New England, where even in the cities men left work to go home for dinner at one o'clock. The fare was probably also similar. In New England, in the country,

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pork or beef and cheese were the mainstay of the midday meal, but breakfast and supper usually consisted of milk and bread.54 Because food is such a basic aspect of daily reality, it is seldom mentioned in diaries and letters, except when something unusual or a special treat was consumed. We find few references, therefore, to these simple meals. Several people mention oysters, which were considered a treat. Salmon was referred to as a gift, whereas fresh cod was purchased in quantity. Oranges are also mentioned as a special treat. Strawberries, melons, and other seasonal fruits, long-time favourites, also get mentioned on occasion. Special dinners were sometimes described in more detail. A "good dinner" at Levey's, for example, consisted of soup and fish, roast beef, boiled leg of lamb, roast wild duck, plum pudding, cheese, and salad all served with good wines, champagne, and sherry. After the removal of the cloth, this was followed by apples, raisins, almonds, melon, plum cake, sherry, and claret.55 Only those who dined at the same table as the governor mention foods such as lobster and turtle.56 Meals could be noteworthy for other, less positive reasons. Antrobus writes: "Dined en famille on roast (burnt) mutton and Dore boiled to rags."57 Although the well-established farmer could expect to have a wellstocked larder that would last the winter, in pioneer areas, some foods ran out before the spring. For the Moodies at the end of the winter of 1839, meats and other basic foods were a luxury. In April of 1839 when they went to collect one of their children from a neighbour, Susanna Moodie mentions that the boy had been overjoyed because they had been fed with "all kinds of rareties - turkey, veal cutlets, ham."58 These were evidently luxuries they seldom saw. By June, Susanna was writing that they were out of meat but had some good flour and oatmeal and plenty of "Brine" left.59 When the Traills, her sister and brother-in-law, moved away, they left the Moodies their potatoes. This added to their food supply but meant that their servant, Jenny, had to sort through about sixty bushels "of rotting frosty potatoes" to take what was still good.60 A garden was an obvious way to supplement a family's food supply, especially in difficult times. When the Duvernay family moved to Riviere du Loup, this would have eased their plight considerably. But they didn't plant a garden because they were always in the expectation of leaving to join Ludger Duvernay. The consequences of this seemed to weigh heavily on Marguerite Harnois's mind when she wrote: [W]e can't collect from anyone and no one wants to advance [money,] everything is very expensive here it is too bad that we were not certain of spending the summer here we would have made a garden and planted some potatoes on

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the lot, that would have done us good - but what can you do, it is God that wants all these misfortunes we are still very hard up. 6r

Families with gardens and orchards had to preserve the produce for the winter. Some apples might be stored whole, but some would have been preserved as applesauce. This was a major task requiring the boiling down of cider into a syrup as well as the cooking of the apples after paring and coring.61 Frances Tweedie refers to paring apples on four different occasions in October 1868, and on 2.9 October she had just finished seventeen tubs.63 Amedee Papineau's garden produced a quantity of apples every year, some of which were sent to Saratoga as a gift, but the remainder they tried to keep over the winter. Many families supplemented their diet with wild game. For some, this would have been a necessity; for others, it was considered a treat. Even in the city the Papineau family ate partridge, woodcock, snipe, venison, bear steak, and hare over the winter, although neither Mary' or her mother-in-law, Julie, cared for it very much. When Louis-Joseph Papineau returned from Petite Nation with a thirty-nine pound beaver which had cost him $8, Mary and Amedee were invited to dine so that they taste this "grand treat."64 Alfred Stikeman, a farmer at Pointe Fortune, enjoyed shooting and refers to having got both snipe and woodcock.65 Edmund Antrobus also went shooting in the fall. Although "there were millions" of blackbirds, he was unable to bring down any. A friend presented him with two brace of ducks and three snipes. When Antrobus next went shooting, he got over twenty birds of different kinds.66 Throughout the period studied, the preparation of food for the household involved considerable work. When middle-class women did not do all of the work themselves, they still had to supervise the process. When Mary Westcott Papineau went into housekeeping, she asked her mother for a number of "DETAILED" recipes. Mary already had those for sponge cake, jelly jumbles, kisses, ice cream, and blancmange, but she needed some for good puddings and other things.67 Her mother promised to bring their old cookbook on her next visit. Although some recipes could be sent, the process for yeast would have to be explained in person.68 That summer, when Mary spent time at home with her parents, she wrote to her husband that she was practising different recipes for later.69 By Christmas she claimed to be quite proud of her achievements in cooking. "[My husband] pronounced MY mince pies delicious, MY tarte maringuee marvellous and MY wine jelly superb 8c I felt they deserved complimenting," she wrote to her father.70 The housekeeper had to know what she wanted done and how to do it even when servants assisted her. In this case,

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Mary clearly took pride in being able to produce these finer items for her table. Eliza Bellamy's diary contains many references to food preparation (see appendix i, table 1). Living in a small village, her role was similar to that of the rural housekeeper. Some of her entries mention that she did "the usual," which suggests that she does not usually mention this daily routine. In one entry, however, she elaborates on what that means: "Monday duties as usual... every morning skim milk and work butter, if any is to [be] done also cakes and pies when wanted, sewing in the afternoon."71 Several references to having to get dinner because the "girl" or hired girl was gone indicates that there were also daily tasks that she supervised but did not normally do herself.71 This suggests that the work she actually mentions were those tasks which were somewhat out of the ordinary, some of them seasonal. It is instructive to examine some of these seasonal tasks in Eliza's diary for the period of one year from zo October 1854 to 10 October 1855 (appendix i, table i). Making cakes and pies was a regular activity that she undertook year round. The only reference to purchased food is to oysters and fresh fish. Over the course of the year the family butchered a cow, hogs, geese, and turkeys for meat. Eliza was involved in some of the related work such as making sausage and preparing the fat, but her husband cut up the meat. She also prepared wine and vinegar and probably preserved berries in other ways, although she does not specify what she did with them. Making cheese was another part of her regular work, but only from summer through fall. Her diary makes several references to her garden. Both she and her husband worked in it, but how they divided the labour is not clear. On 3 May 1855 she wrote, "busy in the garden, Father fixing a flower knot near the summer house." In her next entry, 7 May, she wrote, "a few seeds has been put in the garden." Later (10 May) she wrote, "I have sowed flower seeds at the summer house, all other seeds in." This definitely suggests she did not do all of the work herself. Preserving the produce from the garden, although seldom mentioned, probably fell under the category of her "usual" work. Even with the help of a servant, then, food preparation took up a major part of her time and kept her busy for part of every day. Although a few of these tasks involved her husband, most were her responsibility.73 There is no hint of resentment or difficulty surrounding her role in these tasks. A gender division of labour was the norm, and housewives would not have questioned it. Only when Eliza's regular tasks were combined with extra duties in nursing her grandson Luther and she herself was ill did she express some resentment at her situation: "every day Father rides out with Luther my time, passes away without any earthly enjoyment I did

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not go to the lecture nor have I been in any place of worship, those 7 Sundays, Mrs. Smyth is fixing for her States journey she takes her ease, but others pay for it."74 The real resentment here seems to be not Eliza's regular household tasks but that she had been forced to miss a lecture and had not had a chance to go to church in some time. CLOTHING

A pioneer reminiscence from the Perth area in Upper Canada described how the early settlers kept sheep as soon as there was enough pasture for them because they needed wool as a raw material to produce the cloth they would use to replace the supply of clothing they had brought with them. [T]he wool thus obtained was washed, picked, carded and spun by the good wives on their little wheels, which had been brought out from their old homes. This wool was then woven into durable homespun by some of the emigrants who were weavers from Scotland and had their looms with them. The men wore gray homespun for rough working suits - with brown for gala days while the women and girls had gray flannel proms and skirts, with ones of checked woolen goods woven into tasteful patterns for better occasions. The dyeing materials used were mostly of nature's providing ... The men wore linen shirts of home spinning, sometimes checked blue and white ones for working. All the better suits were made by a tailor who went from house to house to ply his trade ... A shoemaker always came once a year to every home, going from house to house carrying his tools and implements.75

From this description we can see that much household labour went into the production of clothing for the family. In most families of both Upper and Lower Canada, the fabrication of cloth, as well as spinning and knitting, was an important component of the domestic economy. Women invested considerable time in the initial process of preparing the wool for weaving and later fabricated much of the clothing. To simply indicate that the rural inhabitants of this area wore clothing made from homespun fabrics, however, would mask the specialization of labour in the intermediate phase of weaving, as well as the presence of itinerant tailors and shoemakers. The passage above suggests that neighbourhood exchanges would have been common around these skills. Because the early settlers included skilled weavers, it is not surprising that the women did not undertake weaving as well spinning. Recent studies by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich for New England and DavidThierry Ruddel for Lower Canada have demonstrated that in these earlier settlements the transition to female weavers did not take place until

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the late eighteenth century or even later.76 Ruddel also notes that household production of cloth declined in Lower Canada in the first half of the nineteenth century but increased thereafter. Linen production, which was very time consuming, was four times greater per household in Quebec than in Ontario from 1870 on.77 By looking at large numbers of inventories after death, Ruddel has also been able to document that imported cloth was important in Lower Canada from the beginning of the British period. In the nineteenth century, city dwellers no longer wore homespun except as a political statement in the 1830s. The leaders in fashion were the professional class, who had almost 2o per cent of their movable assets in clothing.78 The habitants had much less clothing and more often than not wore homespun. The traditional habitant costume consisted of a knit or fur cap and a tunic and trousers made of homespun belted with a colourful (usually red) sash. This was worn by five-sixths of the men early in the nineteenth century and was still widespread at mid-century, according to the testimony of many travellers.79 Whether cloth was imported or homespun, purchased, fabricated at home or acquired through neighbourhood exchanges, more labour was required before it could be made into the clothing the family required. With few exceptions, this labour was women's responsibility. Only men's clothing, except for their shirts, was likely to be purchased. A suit of clothes was expensive and would have been expected to last a considerable amount of time. Robert Hoyle, for example, reminded his son that his clothes had cost considerably more than those of his sisters.80 In the correspondence and diaries I have examined, clothing the family was often a major concern. Diaries allow us to place these tasks in the seasonal and daily routine of the women writing their diaries. Eliza Bellamy considered sewing to be one of her usual activities, most of which are not noted in her diary. Nonetheless she referred to sewing tasks regularly (appendix i, table 2). Besides quilting, she made shirts for her grandson, Luther, and for her husband several times in the year covered by her diary. She made trousers and a full suit for Luther as well and several dresses for herself and others. (Mary Douglas also made shirts for someone outside her immediate family: while her nephew William was away at school and still single, she provided him with this service.81) In addition to doing the new sewing, Eliza mended the family's clothing, especially the shirts. When she could not keep up with the work herself, she obtained the help of Mrs Shambeau, who helped her with the making of curtains. In her diary Frances Tweedie also made frequent references to someone coming in to do some sewing.8i It is not clear from these diaries if the women who helped

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with sewing were seamstresses or simply had more experience. In bourgeois households the servants did most of the sewing, but the wife might still do finer jobs.83 Girls learned to sew from a young age. Hamel's painting of his nieces, for example, shows one of them stitching. Thus when funds did not permit getting help, even urban middleclass women turned their hand to sewing. Marguerite Harnois, who lived with her sister Reine during the difficult period of Ludger Duvernay's exile, sewed for the Duvernay children, remaking some shirts given to her for them.84 After Ludger Duvernay had to flee Montreal without personal possessions, he eagerly awaited the box of clothes including trousers, a vest, shirts, underwear, and socks as well as his shaving gear, which his wife was able to send him.85 She would later also send him his cloth hat (chapeau d'etoffe) and a pair of socks.86 But as time passed and the family remained separated and without a reliable source of income, clothing became an issue for the children. New clothing was out of the question. The older girls could pass down the items they outgrew and have things remade from their mother's wardrobe. However, when Reine was getting herself and her son Napoleon ready to meet her husband, she was concerned that she had nothing to use to make him a proper suit (un petit abillement propre). 87 In a later letter Marguerite would remind Ludger to keep his old clothes for that purpose.88 Susanna Moodie also lacked funds to pay for clothing she and the children needed. "The dear children are all now quite well and looking charmingly. Though rather ragged and bare ... I fear I shall be obliged to take some of the other note to buy Katie, some clothes for she is not fit to be seen, however, if I can sell some fungusses I have been painting, at Peterboro' I can manage without."89 Shoes were also in short supply. Young Donald Moodie insisted on going outside, but he had only "poor moccassins that I can manufacture out of old cloth" to wear. Hence his feet got wet and his cough continued.90 Susanna herself needed shoes before she could call on the new neighbours, but she asked for a pair of "Indian Rubbers" instead, which would "save on shoe leather in the bad roads."91 Yet only a month before, her husband, probably unaware of their pressing needs, had purchased for her a "nice shawl at Kingston for $6" and was thinking of getting her another of a "commoner description" of worsted for everyday wear.91 Shortly after receiving her letter, he sent her a box of clothing via the Traills at Peterborough. This included yard goods of different types, two dresses, and two pairs of boots: a fashionable pair and "a strong pair." He was having shoes made for the children, although he did not know their sizes and Susanna had not sent them.93 The boots were the right size, and she was quite pleased

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with the handkerchief and with all but one of his various choices of fabrics. The black muslin was "very cheap, and very handsome, but can only be worn in the deepest mourning. I hope I may not want it." Regarding the dresses, she wrote: "The brown gown is very handsome for a plain print, and it will be so useful." On the other hand, "The Mouseline de lain, is too good for my fortunes." Although she feared her fingers would ache before all this was made into clothes, "the very sight of the good cloth has put me into good spirits."94 She warned her husband not to buy more things; she did not need a bonnet but could better use a dozen yards of "Huckebuck towelling," a quality that would last a few years.95 By the end of this period, it was possible readily to purchase clothing, including gowns for women.96 Jane Douglas, while in Toronto visiting her mother, was persuaded to buy a dress that particularly suited her.97 She wrote to her husband telling him that she had gotten a "tooth gown," which though beautiful, was not silk: [I]t is only a "poplinett" that new kind of stuff, the "Queer coloured" dresses are made of, it is braided very prettily but such a dreadful price I'm ashamed to tell you & you will surely think I am getting extravagant but you wished me to get a silk and this is as nice and better for it will last as long again and yet is only half the price of a good silk dress which would be 2.0 dollars - my pretty dress cost nine Dollars isn't that a lot of money for one dress - but I hope you will like it.'8

Clothing has always been used to make cultural and class statements. This presented special difficulties for families whose status remained unchanged but whose finances were strained, as was the case for the Moodies and the Duvernays. Despite the difficulty in making ends meet, however, the cultural messages of clothing had to be observed. Black woollen cloth could only be worn in the "deepest mourning" and was not appropriate elsewhere. A shawl could be for common wear or for good. A gown that was not of silk could be pretty and might please Jane Douglas's husband, but she was clearly aware that it did not make the same social statement as a silk dress. The child dressed in homespun stood out in a rural schoolhouse even though the teacher associated this with the positive qualities of the mother. In the examples given here, this language of clothing seems to have been better understood by women than by men. However, men were clearly not excluded from this discussion, and were often the ones who made the purchases their families needed. Some may well have been as fashion conscious as their wives.99

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HANDICRAFTS

The concept of the family economy has been used extensively by historians to explain the workings of pre-industrial households where all family members contributed their productive labour towards the upkeep of the family. While some of this labour went into items used by the family, it could also be directed towards making items to be sold. In some parts of Quebec, for example, women braided straw hats to supplement family incomes from farming. It is hard to know the extent to which family members engaged in such activities, since they would not necessarily leave much evidence, especially if they were sporadic or temporary. This would be particularly true of the work done in middle-class families such as the Moodies and the Duvernays. Ideals of domesticity notwithstanding, in the face of unusual circumstances and financial difficulties, the women in these families did what they could to bring in extra income. The situation of the Moodies is well known. A bad investment left John Moodie with little cash, and his farming venture did not provide enough to meet the family's needs. Faced with this situation, Susanna Moodie began trying to sell her literary efforts. She then tried her hand at painting scenes on maple fungi and selling these instead.100 The items were quite popular, and she was able to bring in a little extra income which got her family through a trying time. The difficulties faced by the Duvernay family in the period of the Rebellions were not surprising, given their circumstances and the economic situation in Lower Canada. Conditions were not good anywhere, and crops were poor, raising the cost of basic provisions. The economic crisis of 1837 had also resulted in a retraction of credit, and the shortage of cash in circulation became more acute than usual. When the Duvernays tried to sell a few household goods to meet their immediate needs, they found that no one had the money to buy the items.101 Hard times also made it very difficult to collect outstanding debts, as many people were not in a position to pay. Under such circumstances a debt to a known patriote in hiding in the United States and unable to personally see to his affairs was unlikely to be given high priority. Ludger Duvernay had various agents working for him throughout his absence, trying to collect these outstanding debts, and his wife and her sister Marguerite did everything they could to assist in this effort. But people were simply not paying, and the process of collecting through court proceedings was a lengthy one and often not worth it for smaller debts. Ludger's financial situation, therefore, was extremely precarious throughout the period of his exile, and he and his family had to live on minimal resources.

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The Duvernay family was able to take some of their furniture with them to Riviere du Loup. Some of their most prized possessions had been left in Montreal in the keeping of friends, and it was not until the family was to join Duvernay in the United States that they considered bringing these with them.101 Other than a large stove, their remaining items were not worth much, since no one had money or wanted to buy anything.103 When Duvernay asked for one of their beds, however, they could not send it to him without some sacrifices: [Y]ou asked us for a mattress, or a feather bed, you know that we were left with only one mattress and two feather beds, the mattress no longer had a cover, we had to wait til I could get a cover for it, we remade it and it is now ready but things don't always go as one would like when one has no money, we will send you a mattress and the blankets, for one bed only because we are left with only two beds[.] [W]e can put that in a trunk and we will also send you your books in another trunk and if the Charlevoix is willing to take charge of them we will try to send them to you it is difficult for wagons now everyone is in the crops don't be upset if we don't send it to you sooner, for we cannot do otherwise.104

As for the stove, it was valuable enough that they considered giving it in payment for almost a year of unpaid rent, but as it turned out, they would stay another winter and so needed it.10' Stoves, the "second-highest valued item in most ... urban inventories," were commonly taken along with other household items on moving day.106 The only other expensive item they had was Ludger's silver watch. They had already tried to sell it to pay the rent but the prospective buyer changed his mind.107 What they could and did do was to supplement their meagre resources with the sale of handicrafts that were beginning to find a market in the cities and among tourists. Made of birch bark and embroidered with moose hair, these items included several different types of baskets, cigar-holders, boxes for visiting cards, wallets, and watch cases. It was Reine's sister Marguerite who made these, but the oldest Duvernay daughter, Josephine, also began to help and worked as hard at it as Marguerite did. The younger Celina was just learning.108 Although very little is known about this early handicraft production for the tourist trade, it was obviously a skill that Marguerite had learned, perhaps while attending a boarding school, and which she undoubtedly had never intended to use for commercial purposes. Given the situation they were in, however, she was able to temporarily apply herself to this work in the hope of bringing in a small income for the family.

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Obtaining the actual supplies was difficult. Moose hair had to be obtained from the natives, who did not arrive in Riviere du Loup until June. Nor was it always available. It was also expensive, ranging from $4 to $5 per pound.109 There were times when Marguerite had trouble getting money for more supplies. Before leaving for the United States, she wanted to know if the white bark which she used would be available there, since it would not be ready before she left, not being harvested until late June or early July.110 The work sometimes sold very well, sometimes not at all. In May of 1839, for example, Marguerite was able to write, "do not trouble yourself too much with the worry you have that we run out of money, it is true that we were arrived [at that stage] but happily I had 12 dollars of bark work made up, a Mr from the city went by who would buy some and I sold it to him that helped us a lot."111 Yet only a few months later, the situation had changed completely: "I learn today that the price of bark works has come down a lot but one must always hope that divine providence will not abandon us you well suspect that our earnings don't suffice to feed 7 people we are a little in debt and have not yet paid the rent."111 In some cases, buyers might have been motivated by their desire to help out the families of the patriotes, something which Mme La Fontaine, for example, was known to do.113 In her case the exchange does not appear to be entirely commercial in nature: "I received with pleasure my watch cover which I find very beautiful and of superior workmanship. I pray you to set yourself the price or let me know without guile what you most need. I had thought of various things but I thought I must ask you between friends what would please you the most."114 Stores had no such altruism, however, and they would not buy the items if they were not selling. In September 1839 Marguerite planned to go to Montreal to sell some of her work and that of other women who were willing to pay her expenses to do so.115 Since she had spent the whole summer working without a break, she was looking forward to this expedition. She was prevented from going when her sister developed an inflammation in her foot, and was forced to send some of her work to Montreal instead. When it didn't sell, the stores agreed to exchange it for merchandise. In the face of this setback, Marguerite tried to maintain her optimism and not to distrust providence ("se tnefier de la providence").116 She jumped at the first opportunity of a ride to Montreal, as this was the only way they were to get a few things to dress the children.117 The move to the United States shortly thereafter did not mean the end of Marguerite's efforts. She planned to continue to work there doing either embroidery or sewing.118 In fact, she was able to make

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new contacts and tried selling her birch bark crafts in New York. Her friend Mary Glackemeyer promised to place them for her despite some initial difficulty and wrote to tell her which items sold best: "the baskets with covers, the little baskets of different sizes, cigar holders, boxes for visiting cards, wallets, watch cases, and baskets in ridiculous shapes. ".119 She was optimistic that they would sell well at Christmas time, when presents were given, but when they didn't, she hoped that when foreigners began to travel in April, they would do better.120 Like much of the work done by women in the context of the family economy, the embroidery of birch-bark boxes and other items is not well known. How prevalent was this craft among the women of Riviere du Loup, and where did they learn it? Was this the only region of Quebec producing such items? Although the work was done in the context of the family economy, these letters show that in several instances it provided the family with cash on which to survive, at least temporarily. Under different circumstances these women might have used their skills for their own amusement or for making gifts for friends. But these were not normal times for this family, and their hard work eased the burden of Ludger Duvernay's exile by small amounts of income, which along with the generosity of family and friends, would see them through this difficult period. CONCLUSION

Marriage was a major turning point for young adults. It marked their definitive entry into the adult world with all of the responsibilities this entailed. Setting up a new household almost always followed the marriage. Within the household, a division of labour took place that assigned those tasks outside the home primarily to men and those tasks within the home primarily to women. The work of both, however, was essential to the well-being of the household. Young men learned to farm, apprenticed for a trade, or studied to join a profession that would support their family. Young women learned the housekeeping skills they would need once they were married. From helping out at home, they would suddenly have the full responsibility of a house on their hands. This sometimes included the management of several servants and could also include the care of extra people in the household. Relatives, apprentices, and hands often swelled the ranks of the individual household temporarily or for extended periods. Most couples probably expected to face all of these "usual" situations. It seems unlikely, however, that young women raised in comfortable circumstances would have expected to face an

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almost total loss of income on the part of their husband and to have to meet their household responsibilities without his help. Yet this was what happened to Reine Duvernay during the Rebellions when her husband fled to the United States. Susanna Moodie faced a similar situation when her husband lost their savings and had to leave his family in the bush to earn income. Many other wives like Eliza Hoyle, Lydia Child, and Elisabeth MacLaren faced the periodic absences of their husbands, during which time they were in charge of not only the work inside the home but all of their husbands' affairs as well. Although housework may have become more exclusively women's work in this period, keeping house encompassed a far wider range of activities and was the joint responsibility of both husband and wife; either one of them had to be able to see to these duties alone if necessary. More often than not, however, it was women who expanded their role and took on extra responsibilities in the absence of their husbands. Yet these wives were not left entirely to their own devices, since by the period studied the mails were regular enough that absent husbands could continue to offer advice and guidance. This correspondence is especially valuable as it allows us the opportunity to view the nature of their relationships after their marriage.

4 Married Life

John Moodie was only away briefly when Susanna wrote to her sister Catherine: Time lengthens into ages while he is away. Will age never diminish my love for this man ... No one can accuse me of being fickle to those I love - for he is dear to me after five and twenty years of intercourse as he was when we first met. The kind darling sent me a beautiful gold locket and chain containing a capital likeness of himself. You would laugh to see me regarding that white bearded face with the devotion of old times. The old romance of my nature is not quite dead. The poetry of life still lingers about my heart.1

The sentiments expressed in this letter place Susanna Moodie firmly in the camp of those who married for love and had a companionate view of marriage. Although evidence of this ideal can be found as far back as the Middle Ages,2 most historians place the transition to a "companionate nuclear family" in the eighteenth century: "Following in Aries's footsteps, Stone, Shorter, and Degler have focused on the rise of affective individualism as the major criterion of 'modern' family life. They generally agreed that the modern family is privatized, nuclear, domestic, and based on the emotional bonding between husband and wife and between parents and children."3 In the American context, the Revolution gave impetus to changing attitudes. "Revolutionary-era writers held up the loving partnership of man and wife in opposition to patriarchal dominion as the republican model for social and political relationships."4 Looking at divorce records for the nineteenth century, Robert Griswold argues that the ideal of companionate marriage led to an increase in divorce petitions, especially on the grounds of cruelty, as couples now expected more from their marriages.5 Few studies have explored these questions in the Canadian context. In New France the elite con-

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tinued to arrange marriages for family purposes, but this did not mean that marriages were loveless.6 For English Canada in the nineteenth century Peter Ward has found considerable evidence that both men and women shared the companionate ideal: " [HJusband and wife were to be sufficient unto themselves, the ultimate sources of joy and companionship for one another."7 Ward's sources do not allow him to look at actual relationships after the marriage itself, however. Did the experience of wedded life bring about an increase in affection, as was the case for Susanna Moodie, or could it lead to disillusionment and difficulties? How did couples who saw each other as friends and companions negotiate gender roles in a society that still placed women in a dependent role? What was a companionate marriage like in the day-to-day activities of the couple? Anya Jabour's fascinating study of the marriage of Elizabeth and William Wirt demonstrates that even couples strongly committed to the companionate ideal could run into problems as they negotiated their respective roles in the routine management of their household and marriage. In the Wirts' case, unavoidable lengthy separations took their toll and made it more difficult to achieve their ideal of "mutuality, equality and reciprocity."8 Although the slaveholding culture of the American South was different from that of the Canadas, many aspects of the Wirts' domestic life and their struggle for a companionate marriage finds a resonance in the lives of married couples examined here. How are we to examine married life when for many couples marriage meant the end of keeping a courtship diary or the end of their courtship correspondence? After their marriage, William and Jane Douglas, for example, seldom had reason to write to each other. A few letters were exchanged between them again when Jane went back to Toronto to spend time with her family. While in Toronto in 1864 she wrote that this was the longest they had been separated since they were married. Although she was enjoying her visit, she added, "and I beg never to be left behind you again."9 Some of these later letters are undated and so the length or timing of her visits cannot be reconstructed from them. William missed Jane and the children when she was not there, and at times had problems with the servants. At one point Jane expressed her fear that he had lost interest in her, but this seems to have been a panic reaction to not having received a letter when she expected one.10 The tone of the letters from William addressed to his "Dearest Jeannie" or to "My Darling pet" suggest that they continued to be as much in love after marriage as before.11 We know much less about their married life than we do about their courtship, however, even though the family papers extend well beyond their marriage. David MacLaren seems to have had a very good relationship with his wife, and like some of the

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husbands discussed below, he depended on her to manage the affairs of the farm, including renovations, when he was away. Unfortunately only three of his letters to her have survived.12Diaries are of limited use for looking at how couples got along throughout their marriage. Eliza Bellamy, for example, rarely mentioned her husband. Franc.ois-Hyacinthe Seguin mentioned his wife only once in his diary in order to report that she had endured the amputation of a breast due to cancer.13 Abraham Joseph's diary continued after his marriage although not as consistently as before; from his perspective, the marriage was a happy one. On their third anniversary, for example, he wrote: "This day 3 years I was happily married and I may add it has been our happiness to be blessed with two blessed daughters Fanny & Rachel."14 He and his family continued to socialize extensively, and this remained the focus of his daily entries with periodic exceptions such as at the time of the birth, death, or illness of a child. From 1854 to 1877 his entries became less frequent and more focused on his political activities.15 Correspondence between spouses is therefore the better source of information on the couple after marriage. The relationships examined below are of couples who were separated periodically or for extended periods of time. These letters were written according the epistolary pact discussed earlier (see p. 8). The absent spouse is addressed as though he/she were present. To some extent, reading these letters is like listening in to conversations. Although families' correspondence cannot reflect exactly the nature of their life when they were together, it does provide us with clues as to the nature of their relationships. We can see how they addressed one another, how frequently they wrote, the kinds of things they wrote about to each other, and whether or not they confided their inner feelings and their expectations of each other while apart. Ideally only two-sided correspondences would be used for this purpose. These are rare, however, and so the letters of Robert Hoyle to his wife, Eliza, and Reine Duvernay to her husband are used here, despite there being only one side to these correspondences. Not all of Mary Westcott Papineau's letters are directly to her husband, Amedee; some to her father which discuss her marriage have also been used. The published letters of Marcus and Lydia Child16 and of Susanna and John Moodie17 provide further examples of relationships after marriage. Robert and Eliza Hoyle Robert Hoyle and Elizabeth (Eliza) Nye were married in Lower Canada in 1831. At that time he was in his fifties and had three children who

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were already young adults: twin daughters, Mary and Margaret, and a son, Henry.18 From his correspondence there emerges an image of Robert as a rather austere man who had a great sense of responsibility to his family and community, a strong loyalty to the Crown, and a deep religious faith. Eliza Nye was from Burlington, Vermont, but her brothers Freeman and Bartlett Nye were traders in Lacolle in Lower Canada and another brother, Timothy, was a lawyer in Montreal. Eliza was thirty-eight years old when she married Robert. Almost immediately after her marriage she was left to care for her stepchildren and her new household in Lacolle while her husband attended the Assembly at Quebec. He continued as a member of the Assembly until 1834. While he was in Quebec he wrote to his wife regularly.19 In July 1834 he received a coveted appointment as collector of customs at Stanstead. Eliza joined him there that winter. She gave birth to a daughter, Sarah Ruth, in the early spring of i835,10 but in July she returned to Lacolle with the baby and her stepdaughter Margaret. They remained there until at least December 1836 while Robert made arrangements to sell the farm and acquire a place for them in Stanstead. From 1836 to 1841 Robert and Eliza lived together in Stanstead. In 1841 Eliza went to visit family in Burlington and Champlain, New York, and does not appear to have gone back to Stanstead. Their estrangement ended when Robert returned to live in Lacolle in 1844. Robert's letters to Eliza shed considerable light on their relationship and on her activities and those of his family. His instructions regarding his children, for example, provide us with information about their clothing, diet, and education. His occasional comments on Eliza's previous letters also allow some insight into her viewpoint, but this in no way compensates for the absence of her side of the correspondence. Robert described for Eliza his activities and the events occurring around him which he considered noteworthy, either in themselves or because of the connection he made between these and home. When the Castle in Quebec burned in 1834, he described the fire but quickly went on to warn her to be careful and gave instructions for making the house even more secure against fire.2-1 After describing his boarding-house room in detail, he added: "You see I am vain enough to think you would take some interest in knowing how yr old Husband is lodged."11 In Quebec his quiet boarding-house life13 contrasted sharply with the occasional dinner at the governor's residence and a grand New Year's Ball.14 He hastened to assure her, after describing the latter, that he would not trade her for any of the "wits or Bells" present. From Quebec he wrote of Assembly proceedings, and his

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committee work; from Stanstead he wrote of local events and his duties as collector of customs. When he sent a paper home to keep his friends informed of what was happening, he thought that she would be interested as well as she was "something of a Politician."15 Concerned about his own health and hers, he kept her informed and expected the same in return. He told her, for example, of a particularly bad night in which he vomited several times with "no kind wife or child to hand him a little water to rince his mouth." To add to his discomfort, he also had to go "into the back yard" three times on a bitterly cold night. He felt self-conscious about admitting to this and added: "Do not let any one see or hear you heard about my being unwell, you will only get yourself & old Husband laugh'd at."2-6 In 1832 there was concern that cholera would return to Quebec, but in December no cases had yet been reported. He later reported that one of the members had left for home on account of having jaundice, but died before getting there, leaving a widow and five children.27 We can imagine his feelings and Eliza's upon hearing such news. When he asked her to look after her health, he added, only partially in jest, "I command you, and trust that you will like a dear good wife obey."28 In 1834, when reports of cholera deaths in Montreal reached three hundred a day, he admitted he hated being separated from her at such times and asked her to write at least once a week.29 When illness was prevalent in Stanstead during the winter of i84i~4z, he cautioned her repeatedly to wear flannel and to take care of herself.30 His letters indicate a great affection for his wife and that he saw his marriage as a companionate one. He thought of Eliza as his best friend, the person in whom he could confide all and for whom he "would sacrifice any earthly good to promote her happiness."31 He also thought spouses should be equal in a marriage. Commenting on a Church of England wedding ceremony in Stanstead, he told her that the couple was married "in the good old way, she promising to obey."32 At the same time he was very concerned with propriety and with meeting what he considered to be appropriate standards of behaviour for men. References to sex were veiled. When she mentioned his not having anyone to "disturb his repose," he found this "taunting" and indicated that he would "pay" her for it - unless it is the Sabbath.33 He believed that it was not manly to express feelings, even to one's wife. He nonetheless told her how strongly he cared for her and that he thought he had "drawn a Prize."34 After admitting he had found their parting difficult, he added: "It is or may be called weak and childish in a man, well be it so. I have betrayed it and if only to you, no matter, you will make the best of it."35 Upon leaving for Stanstead without her, he wrote, "If it was not degrading to our sex,

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I would confess the fact, that you have become necessary, absolutely so, to my happiness. I secretly blush, when I think of such an admission, but you will promise, not to expose my weakness, If I should, or do make such confession."'6 An area that was a continuous sore spot between Robert Hoyle and his wife was the number of letters she wrote to him. One can picture him alone in his boarding-house room, lonely and wishing for a letter, while she, busy with a full household of children and servants, probably found writing to be one more chore she did not have time for. When he did not hear from her, he worried that she was ill, or worse.37 He was also afraid of fire. He pleaded for more letters, often chastizing her for not writing often enough.'8 She reminded him that friends bear with each other's infirmities. He apologized for having caused her disquiet (his reproach had been upsetting enough to have affected her sleep), and resolved to be more content: "I will comfort & console myself that I have a wife, and in her, a friend as dear as life itself to me - and now we must both think, and act like (as I am at least) old, married people, folks."39 But he never was content on this question. The expectations that Eliza brought to her marriage had been defined in the context of genteel Burlington society, whereas her marriage, while in Lacolle, existed in the context of a rural household economy. Although she. had a servant, farm help, and the children to assist her, her husband's long absences meant that she was expected to manage his business affairs while he was away, as well as all of her regular domestic responsibilities. She was to collect his debts, oversee his workmen at the mill, supervise the care of the livestock, see to it that the horses were properly watered and that the fences were kept in good repair, and to buy oats or hay when he expected these to be scarce, all according to his detailed instructions. For example: "Tell Henry to ask David the Blacksmith to furnish him with all the oats he can, and have him get all he can from Trudell & Sandy Hilman as I think oats will be dear & scarce in the spring. - and let Henry get R Lund or Mr Waldy to shingle over the hole for the Stove Pipe in the roof of the Store at Booths, to prevent the rain and wet."40 She and her daughters were expected to deliver goods from the store and were reminded to make note of this in the ledger immediately.41 In all of these transactions with the outside world, Eliza acted on the basis of her tacit authority as representative of her husband. If anyone questioned her authority, to collect debts, for example, she would have to elicit the help of Robert's brother Henry, who had Robert's power of attorney.41 The many responsibilities which she was forced to accept as a result of Robert's frequent absences eventually took their toll on this marriage. A short (undated) fragment of her diary written in Lacolle just

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after Robert's departure expresses her gloom on being left alone. Instead of visiting her stepdaughter, she resolved to stay home to "do all that could reasonably be expected to promote the interest of my Husband and family as in Duty bound - a hopeless task, therefore a heartless one." She reflected "with regret of the great change in [her] character and feelings the last 3 or four years produced."43 Unfortunately more of this diary has not survived, and Eliza's perception of their marriage is not as clear as one might wish. Eliza and the baby, Sarah Ruth, spent the winter of i84Z in Lacolle on an extended visit with Eliza's brother. Her health does not appear to have been good at that point, which may partially explain why she chose to be closer to family and friends. There was also uncertainty as to how long Robert would remain in Stanstead. Eliza wished the family to be together again. Robert agreed that living as a family again was important and described this as living "in love, harmony & with proper regard for each [others'] feelings, & I may say failings, for I know I have mine."44 His sense of responsibility towards his much younger family, however, would not allow him to give up the steady income of his post in Stanstead. He assured Eliza that it was not for himself that he stayed. She was not convinced. She accused him of injuring her and being "blind" to her feelings. He denied this and claimed that she harmed him at times, that he would forgive her, but he hoped this would not encourage repetition: "If a wife loves & respects her husband, she will not provoke."45 They were clearly in disagreement through much of this period. Despite this, he continued his declarations of love, and she continued to say she wanted him to return to Lacolle. It was not until 1844, however, that he finally gave up the post in Stanstead and returned to live in Lacolle. This was a marriage that evidently started well. Robert and Eliza seem to have shared views on the nature of marriage and childrearing. Eliza was interested in politics and could share her husband's concerns in that area. But his long absences placed stress on the marriage, and she seems to have resented shouldering responsibility for his affairs much of the time. The move to Stanstead seems to have been the key difficulty. We do not know what obstacles they faced there. As collector of customs in an area known for its smuggling, Robert may not have been well accepted in the community. Eliza may simply have found it hard to be so far away from her family. Robert remained firm that his chief responsibility was to provide for his family, and that dictated his choice to stay in Stanstead against her wishes. These differences remained unreconciled for several years. How well they were able to put this behind them once they were together again remains unrecorded. While it was not unusual in this period for husbands to be

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absent for economic reasons,46 this placed a heavy burden on the wife. For the Hoyles, as Anya Jabour found with the Wirts' marriage, this could begin to erode their relationship. Marcus and Lydia Child Originally from Massachusetts, Marcus Child moved to Stanstead in Lower Canada in 1812. and began his commercial career in the employ of an uncle involved in the illegal cross-border trade that flourished during the War of i8iz. In 1819 he married Lydia Chadwick of Worcester, Massachusetts. They settled in Stanstead where he became a druggist and village merchant. He continued to live there through the economically difficult times of the Rebellion and after. With a partner, however, he invested in a store, pearl ash manufacture, and a carding mill in neighbouring Coaticook in 1841. He later sold his Stanstead store and moved to Coaticook in 18 5 5,47 Elected member of the House of Assembly for Stanstead for the first time in 182.9, he continued his involvement in local and provincial politics through the Rebellion period and the i84os.48 The letters exchanged between him and his wife, Lydia, between 1841 and 1845 shed light on their relationship.49 As a member of the Legislative Assembly, he was absent from home for several months of the year. In his letters, we see an expression of his concern for his family and his loneliness while away. He continued to direct many matters from a distance. He did not go on about his feelings, but he addressed Lydia as "My Dear Wife" and usually signed his letters "Your Affectionate Husband." Some variations include, "My love to all & yourself in particular," and "Accept my love." His wife addressed him as "My dear Husband" and signed many of her letters simply as "Lydia Child." This was preceded by a phrase expressing affection, however, such as "I remain as ever your affectionate wife," or "all well and all join in love to you." His letters to her included a substantial amount of information about the business of the Legislative Assembly, which he evidently was used to discussing with her. Her letters refer to her concerns in the management of the store and farm. Both refer to the activities of their children, George and Elizabeth. The extent to which they rely on each other is evident throughout their correspondence. That interdependence was emotional as well as material. While away from home, Marcus wanted his wife to write regularly, reflecting his need to know that everything was fine. There are many examples of this in his letters. In September 1842., for example, he wrote, "It is now 17 days since I left home and not a word from you ... I did expect a letter before this time."50 On 9 October 1843 he

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wrote, "I have written you several letters and not one has been, as yet, answered - I hope you are not, nor any of the family sick, and thus have been prevented writing me."51 He complained not so much that she did not write so much as about the length of time it took for her letters to reach him once they were sent: "This morning I have the pleasure (and such I assure you it is true) to read your letter of the 15th inst - (10 days reaching me when it should have been only 5 and it might be brought in about 3^) there delinquencies are too bad."52- Only two days later Marcus commented further: "I think letters are too long in reaching you from this and yours too long in coming from Stanstead."53 Only rarely did he sound a bit churlish: "This morning I find myself well, but not well treated; - no letter yet from home - what can you be thinking of. It is really making me very unhappy to be so long without letters from you."54 On another occasion he closed his letter saying, "and for yourself all that love to which you have so just a claim and which I hope you will merit by writing me soon a very long letter."55 Maintaining a regular correspondence helped the couple to deal with their concern for each other's well-being while they were apart. Marcus wrote to let her know that he was in good health, and wanted to hear from her regularly to know that she was also. When she was ill, even with a cold, he began to worry and directed her to take care of herself: I have always felt afraid of these colds of yours and the effect they have upon your lungs - and now I shall feel anxious till I hear that you are relieved from it - I must urge you to avoid exposure &c immediately take in a defuse state the Fort. Aut. either in water as heretofore - 3 grains to a pint and a little ucoluptes in your wine of antimony and while taking it by no means expose yourself to the cold air.'6

She herself had mentioned taking honey and onion for her cold.57 In 1842., when his son George accompanied him to Kingston, smallpox made an appearance among the families Marcus knew. He wrote to Lydia that he feared for both his and George's health. Although Marcus had been vaccinated as a youth and had had his children vaccinated as well, anxiety got the best of him and he went out at midnight one night to get vaccinated again. It had no effect, thus relieving his concern.58 Marcus openly admitted that he was lonely when he was away from home and his family. In September 1842. when George was leaving for home, Marcus wrote, "He is not inclined to stay any longer else I should be glad to have him as I shall be lonesome when he has gone."59

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At the end of the 1843 session he admitted that he thought of Lydia and the children often and "shall be glad when I can go home and remain quietly within the circle of my own domestic comforts."60 He therefore appears to be a "modern" husband, for whom family time was emotionally significant. Marcus shared with his wife his feelings when he heard of his uncle Levi Bigelow's death, reported in the Montreal papers: "I feel his loss truly and altho in the midst of a multitude of men & business - I cannot dispel the gloom it has cast over my mind - he was my friend and early patron - he did that for me which my own father had it not in his power to do - and should I not shed a tear over his memory."61 This is an important indication of the nature of their marriage as it means that he was willing to show his more vulnerable self to her. Politics was the focus of Marcus Child's life when he was away from home, and not surprisingly, he wrote extensively to Lydia about the business of the House and his participation in it. Although she claimed, "Parliamentary business is indeed rather a dull subject to us backwoods people I hope it is more interesting to the immediate actors in it,"62 she seems to have followed what was going on quite closely and paid attention to what his constituents were saying about these matters. She reported on the opinions expressed in the Sherbrooke Gazette regarding the legislation on duties on American produce and other matters. Asking for his opinion on these questions, she also wanted "to know why a body of men who should comprise the wisdom of the United Provinces can spend their time in foolish and angry debating and calumniating the memory of the dead. "*3 As the session neared its end in 1843, she reported the comments she heard from neighbours on the work of the Assembly and his role in it. She then added, "but I am talking about what I do not understand."*4 In November she referred to the School Act, hoping that it would come forth in "a more satisfactory shape or less complicated in somuch that our Backwoods mind can understand it."65 Later she wrote that she was having trouble finding pleasant news to write him. She did not want to enter into a discussion of legislation, "for it is one which I do not fully understand," but she could see that discord was growing.66 Marcus ignored these disclaimers and wrote to her extensively on political matters. He discussed his role in amending a bill placing a duty on American produce and wrote that he was told there was no revenue for a plank road in their constituency.67 He reported on the immense interest in the bills on suppressing the Orange Order and other secret societies as well as that to move the seat of the government from Kingston. Large crowds including ladies had attended the House as a result.68 In 1843 he mentioned a project for a road from Chambly

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to West Hereford which he was championing, he hoped with some success.69 Clearly he did not hold the view that women should not be interested in such things. Both mentioned local news likely to be of interest, although Lydia usually had less to report. One of the few newsworthy items she mentioned was the sinking of a horse boat on Lake Magog.70 Marcus, on the other hand, could give an account of various social functions he attended, and knew he would have a receptive audience, especially if he described the fashions and the food. After he attended the christening of a new steamer, the Cherokee, by Lady Bagot in 1842, for example, he supplemented his own account of the event with a detailed description of the "ladie's dresses" for his wife and daughter, prepared at his request by a female friend also in attendance.71 When he attended a dinner party with the governor-general, Sir Charles Metcalfe, he briefly referred to the food - water, wine (which he did not taste), soup, mutton, turkey, partridge, ice cream, and fruit - but not having time, had to leave the rest to her imagination.72 On 28 October 1843, when he reported on a dinner given by the governor-general and the honourable speaker of the Assembly, he sent her a copy of the bill of fare and asked her to keep it as a "curiosity." Many of the guests were from Lower Canada and they were a jovial lot: "[W]e had English, Irish, Scotch, Canadian, & voyageur songs; in, the chorus of which, most of the company joined, and a more joyful set of folks, is scarcely to be found in Canada."73 Manners and good order were clearly important to Marcus. He paid his wife an indirect compliment when he mentioned enjoying the company at breakfast of Mrs J.S. McDonald, an American from Louisiana. Being the last one who would be displeased with the "fair American wife," he added, "It gives me great pleasure to see them excel in all that is virtuous and social and well bred."74 In contrast, he frequently commented negatively about Upper Canadians and found them lacking in manners and "without any respect or good breeding."75 On another occasion he was "disgusted with the coarse and ill bred habits of their people."76 If he was correct, then the message in favour of better manners and morals, although heard in Upper Canada,77 had not yet been translated into greater civility in those classes where he expected to find it.78 Lydia and Marcus were both Methodists. They would have shared similar views on religion, and she would have been familiar with his viewpoint. Nonetheless he took the time to mention when he attended a good sermon and expressed some of his thoughts thereafter. After a sermon with which he was particularly in agreement, he commented: "Consequently the great object in Christian warfare and holiness

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should be to discipline ourselves into a perfect Submission or reconciliation to Him in all things."79 In Marcus's absence Lydia shouldered many additional responsibilities and faced additional difficulty in dealing with the hired help. On 8 October 1843 srie reported on a number of problems. Their son George was not spending as much time at the store as he might, because he was lonesome there. The hired hand, Thomas, had interfered in this matter and had said things to George that were out of line, and both of them had got angry. Thomas would have left, if he was paid, but she told him not to mind George and that she would speak to him. That night Thomas refused to put a visiting neighbour's horse in the barn. The next day she had to speak to him and told him he was meddling and had not been given direction over George. He later apologized, but she wondered how long the peace would last. The same day she discovered that her servant girl, Sophie, had taken some chocolate without permission. Sophie left the next day. Lydia feared retaliation from a member of Sophie's family, in the form of an attack on the store. Her concerns regarding this family were expressed in several subsequent letters. To add to her troubles, customers weren't paying their debts, and money had to be borrowed to pay Everett, the clerk at the store. Their daughter Elizabeth's request for a small amount of money would therefore have to go unheeded. Lydia seemed to take all of these cares in her stride, however, and not to have felt resentful towards Marcus for these problems. She commented: "I intended to have written something beside grievances but was interrupted." After a few more items of news, she closed her letter, saying, "I hope this will find you well and happy and I wish the little troubles of life did not affect me so much but I must try to rise above them. I know I ought to do so be that as it may I remain as ever your affectionate wife."80 In response to this long account of her "domestic trials," Marcus noted: "[W]hat gives me pleasure is that your authority is acknowledged and that you set enthroned as queen of all within your dominions."81 Although the hired hand might have had trouble accepting direction from a woman, there was no question that the authority was hers in her husband's absence, and Marcus expected that authority to be respected by others. When in doubt about the proper course to take, however, such as repairing the stable, she wrote to Marcus asking for his instructions.81 From a distance Marcus continued to advise his family as to how best to do things. When George was leaving for home from Kingston, he was given an exact route to follow. Marcus's letter also included instructions for Lydia regarding the care of the horse when George

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arrived: "[W]hen the days are fine let her out to graze behind the stable in that fresh grass - nailing up the fence to keep her from the Garden. "83 When he wanted someone to be engaged to bring a load of pearl ash to Montreal and to be available to bring goods for the store back to Stanstead, he asked Lydia to speak to Everett, the store clerk, about this, and to have him send a memorandum as to what was needed.84 Marcus expressed his hope that George would listen to her advice and "sober example." He added: "The weight of all the responsibility rests on your shoulders, in my absence: and I trust [?] a proper sense of it, will induce in your mind and feelings the most profound sobriety of deportment."85 When he did not have the time to give her more specific instructions, he simply indicated: "[CJonsult your own judgement and George's great experience - and I shall feel satisfied."86 When they had more potatoes than expected, he gave directions for having some of them fed to the cows.87 As winter approached, he was concerned with the danger of fires: "I hope you all will be careful of the fires and particularly of candles in the night, and lights at the stable - speak to Thomas about it."88 This was something Lydia probably did not need reminding about. She had helped with the cleaning of the stovepipe, fearing that it would catch fire otherwise.89 Marcus sometimes added instructions as an afterthought: "I hope Thomas is this cold weather cutting up the wood in the woods I shall be glad to have him cut all he can and cord it up well."90 Giving specific instructions that did not require any discussion was easy enough to do from a distance even with the delay in the mails. Both must have found it much more difficult, however, when a matter required discussion. Deciding when or if to kill the cows before winter is an example. At first Marcus simply wrote to say that if Lydia needed beef, he thought they could kill one of the cows, and keep some meat fresh and cure the rest "in such a way as to please your own good taste." On this matter, however, he deferred to her judgment: "[Y]ou may do as you like respecting it."91 Being allowed to use her own discretion did not necessarily make things easier, however. Lydia seemed to have trouble deciding the best course of action. As the weather warmed, she did not want to go ahead, because they would not be able to keep much of the meat fresh. But they would soon run out of potatoes to feed the cows and a pig that George had acquired. Then the hired man left, requiring that someone be hired to replace him temporarily. At this point Lydia began to hope that Marcus would be home soon, "for I assure you things do not go as they would if you was here, although perhaps as well as we could expect in your absence."91 When he wrote again, his advice regarding the cows began to take on more of the sense of being a directive. One should be killed

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right away, and all three before the end of the month. He then carefully outlined how they should cut up the beef to salt it, using barrels that could be reused for pearl ash, and mixing good and poor cuts of beef into each barrel. The tallow could be used for making candles and the hides tanned.93 Although to our modern sensibilities the directives sent home by an absent husband might appear to be a patriarchal and even overbearing imposition of male authority, one could argue that Marcus was simply doing his best to continue to contribute to the smooth running of his household during his absence. Rather than resenting his interference, his wife may well have welcomed his input. Having arranged matters for things to run smoothly in his absence, Marcus found not being in a position to deal with unexpected difficulties troubling. He was particularly distressed when he received word that his hired hand, Thomas, was planning to leave. Placing a stranger in charge was not acceptable to him, but he was not there to prevent it. "When I get to thinking of business at home I am very unhappy and your letter has Opened a scene of thought &C anxiety which I shall feel deeply ... I hope Geo. will act the part of a man under these circumstances."94 The cooperative and affectionate nature of Marcus and Lydia's relationship is evident throughout their exchanges. Gestures of good will were not just in one direction. He shared her interest in gardening, and while in Kingston he planned to look for slips to bring home.95 When she requested that he get bulbs for their new garden if he was in Montreal long enough,9* he readily agreed. When she asked him how he felt about her going to Worcester for a few weeks after his return,97 he responded favourably: "When I get home if your health is good, I have no objection to your visiting your Mother for 5 or 6 weeks."98 Although our view of their relationship is based on times when they were apart, there is no reason to believe that it would have been less cordial or affectionate when they were together. Both shared common interests, saw each other as equals, and worked as partners in both the family business and the rearing of their children. Like Eliza Hoyle, Lydia acted as a surrogate in the absence of her husband. Their regular correspondence not only reflects the nature of their relationship but clearly helped them to maintain it when they were apart. Susanna and John Dunbar Moodie Susanna Strickland and John W. Dunbar Moodie were married in London on 4 April 1831. She reported this made her "the happiest girl on earth" and that she had "pronounced the fatal obey, with a firm determination to keep it."99 A few months later she was pregnant and

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hoping that her baby would be like its father: "Ah, he is so kind, so good, so indulgent to all my wayward fits, that I look up to him as my guardian Angel." She did not think the years would make her change her mind: "I do not much fear the trial, my heart will never grow old or cold to him."100 In i83z they emigrated to Upper Canada. In 1834 they settled in the backwoods of Peterborough in Douro, near her sister Catherine Traill and her brother Samuel. They had four children and Susanna was pregnant with a fifth in 1837 when the Rebellion broke out and Moodie left her there to join the militia. His long absence continued when he was appointed paymaster to the militia in the Victoria District in October 1838. They remained apart through 1839. It was not until he received an appointment as sheriff of Hastings County that Susanna and the children were able to leave the backwoods and join him in Belleville.101 The letters exchanged between husband and wife during their two years apart allow us to look at their relationship more closely.101 Susanna loved her husband very much and this shows in all of her letters. A very literate woman who wrote for a living, she had a facility with language far greater than other correspondents seen here. Nonetheless she felt that words were not adequate to fully express her feelings: Your kind letter was a great comfort to me. To know, that you love us, and think of us in all our sickness and privations atones for them all. How precious that love and sympathy is to your poor Susy no written language can tell. In it, is concentrated every better thought and feeling of heart and mind. Oh, that I were indeed deserving of the love and esteem I so much covet. But, then, I should be too happy, and perfect happiness is no denizen of earth.103

In spite of any problems they faced, Susanna Moodie still saw herself as "a very rich woman." Her husband loved her, her friends were kind, the children were well and happy, and "we have united hearts and interests."104 Although she was often dissatisfied about her situation, she remained very much in love. John Moodie's affection for his wife also comes out in his letters, but perhaps in a lighter way. He always signed himself her "affectionate husband" and referred to her frequently as his "beloved," "dearest," or "dear" Susie. He had not been gone long before he wrote, "How I long to clasp you to my heart, my own good old wife."105 Sometimes he playfully called her his "silly old woman"106 or his "Dear Old Woman."107 He was particularly anxious when she or the children were ill and wanted to hear from her again soon to know they were well.

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Given their feelings for one another, a long separation was difficult for both. In 1838 they had had little choice in the matter. In 1839 they accepted it reluctantly. As Moodie wrote: "I am grieved My Dearest to hear of your sufferings, and God knows how anxious I am that it might be in my power to relieve you from your comfortless situation ... Still, until there is some greater certainty of its continuance I fear it would be imprudent to leave the farm."108 Supported by his faith, he urged her to place her trust in Providence: "In spite of all our present difficulties we have always had the consciousness of doing our duty, and have been supported by hope founded on a never failing experience of the goodness of God."109 When their time apart was almost over, however, John claimed that he would suffer privations cheerfully before submitting to a long separation again: "I would rather live on bread and water, or even on potatoes." Yet as he admitted, "All I care about is independence. I shall submit to any sacrifice to obtain this."110 Separation was the price they paid for the chance to leave the farm for something better. Each found the separation hard for different reasons. John got increasingly bored with his job and anxious to see his family,111 whereas Susanna found the isolation, the struggle for existence, the dependency on neighbours, and her beloved's absence more and more difficult. After three months she was already trying to plan a visit to him but knew it was an impossible daydream.112 She was also determined that 1839 be their last winter apart.113 However, as long as she heard from him regularly and knew what to expect, she managed. What made things especially difficult was when she was left in a state of uncertainty about his well-being and their plans, since her decisions about the farm depended on them. When he wrote saying that he would be home the first week of June and still hadn't arrived or written by mid-July, she became agitated and upset. Her turmoil is expressed in the short note she wrote to him on 16 July 1839, the last before he returned: "Your long absence and silence, paralizes all exertion. I only live from day to day, in the hope of seeing you before night, or hearing from you, but night comes and no word from you, and I take poor little Johnnie into my arms and pray for his absent father and bathe his innocent face with tears. Cruel Moodie, one short sentence which would tell me you are well would remove this miserable state of anxiety." The children had stopped talking of his return and Katie believed he had forgotten them, she wrote. She didn't know what to do about the farm and lacked the money to bring in the crop. She continued: "Oh heaven keep me from being left in these miserable circumstances another year. Such another winter as the last will pile the turf over my

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Fig. 4.1 Susanna and John W. Dunbar Moodie and family, c. 1866, National Library of Canada, 1^-17999.

head. I cannot help crying when I think, that such, may be in store for me. While I had you to comfort and support me all trials seemed light, but left to myself, in this solitude, with only old Jenny to speak to, and hearing so seldom of you makes my life a burden to me."114 Through their letters, John and Susanna kept each other informed about their activities. His letters referred to his work and described some of the people he met. He told her about his business affairs and responded to her letters. He also told her of his efforts to sell her poetry and other writings. She wrote to him primarily about the children, as well as about her health (see section z). There is every indication in these letters that theirs was a very good marriage with both partners trusting and depending on the other. The Moodies' marriage weathered many more storms before it ended with John's death on 2.2. October 1869. (Figure 4.1 shows the family in 1866.) During the 18408 he had been unable to avoid the factionalism of Belleville politics. The death of their son "Johnnie" led

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them into an investigation of spiritualism in the 18505. When John retired, his poor handling of his business affairs created problems, the most significant of which was the estrangement of daughter Katie and her husband, John Vickers, in 1866. In the last few years of John's life, his health deteriorated, and Susanna devoted her time to nursing him.115 Their love continued strong through all of their trials and their joys. Their final parting was therefore all the more difficult for Susanna. In her detailed description of their last few hours together, she wrote: "When I had fixed his pillows and made all quite comfortable, I kissed the broad, noble brow, and bade God to bless my old darling, and give him a good night's rest. And he put up his dear arms and pulled me down to his breast, and said 'My dear dear Auld wife, may He bless you.' Those were the last words of love and tenderness, he was ever to say to me. 1 1 6 Susanna does not try to describe her feelings regarding his death. That reaction, she says, "can only be realized by those who have loved and lost." The most difficult time was when they came to take him away for the funeral. She continued: "It is a satisfaction to know, that he considered the years spent alone with me in the little cottage, the happiest he had known for years. That he was pure and innocent in his pursuits as a little child. Humble with all his wide knowledge, and fine talents, such a man as we seldom meet along the dusty high way of life. Such as I fear I shall never see again."117 The trials of married life, including the hard years in the backwoods, had clearly not diminished her love or her respect for John Moodie. His light-hearted tenderness for her also lasted to the end. It is difficult to imagine a relationship that would better exemplify the notion of a companionate marriage. Ludger and Reine Duvernay Ludger Duvernay (figure 4.z), editor of La Minerve, patriote, and wellknown printer in Montreal in the pre-Rebellion period, married Reine Harnois of Riviere-du-Loup in 1825. After Governor Gosford issued a warrant for his arrest in November 1837, he fled to the United States, leaving behind his wife and five children. Reine Duvernay left Montreal for the safety of Riviere-du-Loup, where she would have the support of her ageing parents and an uncle. Her main support, however, came from her sister, Marguerite Harnois, who lived as part of the household and assisted with the care of the children and other tasks. The family lived in the expectation of joining Ludger again shortly. In the end, however, his exile from his family lasted for two years before they joined him in Burlington, Vermont. Although he could have safely returned to Canada much sooner, he remained in the United States

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THE COUPLE

Fig. 4.2. William Notman, L.M. Duvernay, Montreal, 1861. Notman Photographic Archives, 1-142,6.1, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal.

until 1842,. This decision was based on financial considerations. He had lost everything. It was not until he received a firm offer from La Fontaine to revive La Minerve that he returned to Montreal.118 His absence was very difficult both emotionally and financially for all concerned. His wife was literally sick with worry as one year dragged into two and they still remained apart. Yet despite the difficulty of sending and receiving mail from an exiled patriot, they maintained a regular correspondence. His letters kept his family from suffering even greater emotional turmoil. Although his letters have not survived, the forty-five letters written from Riviere-du-Loup by his wife or her sister allow us to view the relationship over a period of almost

MARRIED LIFE

III

two years. "9 These letters are filled with information about the children (discussed in section 2.) and with references to Reine and Marguerite's health. They also refer to economic difficulties, Ludger's affairs, visits to and from friends, and news of the family. The letters from Riviere-du-Loup almost all refer to the pain of separation. Many make references to crying over his absence. Reine is described as dreaming of her husband at night and crying for him during the day.12-0 Throughout this ordeal the letters also expressed a strong belief that God would protect them and set things right in the end.121 Marguerite Harnois's first letter to her brother-in-law in January of 1838 touches on both. She begins: "It is with an indescribable pleasure that we have received your letter Tuesday the 10 dated i January I would not know how to paint for you the emotions of pleasure and sorrow all at once that the poor Reinette experienced in reading it ... our cruel separation makes us shed tears every day ... but you are even more to be pitied ... for at least we have the pleasure of being surrounded by our dear children." After updating him on various matters, she continues: "[Djon't let yourself get down because of sorrow let us hope that he who can do all will shorten our days of sorrow and bring you back to the bosom of your family This hope sustains us write us often your letters will help us to support the pain of your absence."'" The disappointment of the first spring, when the break-up of the winter ice did not foreshadow a reunification, dashed Reine's spirits and led to more tears: "the poor child had a good cry when she read your letter ... she sees it is impossible and she is resigning herself to all in spite of her pain ... I assure you my dear brother that it is very tiresome also who would have been able to imagine that your absence would be so long I assure you that God has protected your dear wife for one could never imagine that a wife could have so much grief.""3 His family's health was obviously a subject Ludger was expected to be interested in, as reflected in their letters. Marguerite Harnois was generally healthy. In the winter she suffered from rheumatism, especially in the head and teeth, but once the nice weather returned she began to feel better."4 She also felt unwell after looking after the children herself when Reine was absent, during which time two of them were sick."5 She was seriously ill only once, in the spring of 1838. The exact nature of her problem was not noted, but both she and Reine believed that she needed to be purged and bled to effect a cure. She did not want to give this precedence over her Lenten fast, however, and wanted to wait until after Easter before taking the treatment."6 Reine suffered from a minor chronic condition which she referred to as her stomach ailment. While she was in Montreal she had got some balm for it at Trudeau's pharmacy, and although she was taking

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it when she returned, it was worse; the problem would continue intermittently.117 In August 1838 she injured her finger so badly that it kept her from sleeping and she was afraid the bone was coming through the skin. In October she suffered from an inflammation (fluxion).12-8 A year later she had an unusual illness (singuliere maladie) in which her foot became painfully inflamed. The doctor called in thought the cause was "humours" (les humeurs] and weakness and gave her medicine for it.129 Some of Reine's health problems were undoubtedly, as her sister believed, caused by the stress of being separated from her husband. Marguerite referred to this as her sister's taking her sorrow too much to heart. When she first learned that Ludger would not be returning as soon as expected, she spent the day in bed.130 In her worry she had stopped eating well and lost a lot of weight.131 Marguerite wrote: "Reinette would be well if she had an appetite."132 After visiting her husband in May 1839, Reine was upset and again had trouble eating. Upon her return she spent the day in bed, exhausted. She was also pregnant, but there is no mention of this in her letters to her husband.133 Relief came at the end of 1839 when she and the family moved to Burlington to join her husband. Since their correspondence ends at this point, we do not know if her health improved in the long term. Despite financial difficulties the family faced during their separation, Reine was careful not to reproach Ludger for the funds he used. Regarding a trip he made to New York, for example, she wrote: "[You] remark that you only spent 104 Dollars that is not a lot and even if you had spent more you well know that it would not be me who would reproach you, it is you my dear who earned it, I know that you have worked enough, as for me I thank God for having had such a good husband."134 At the same time, she wanted her own efforts as a manager of their money to be recognized: [W]hat hurts me the most is that I fear that you think we spend too much I admit it must seem like a lot, - but we must buy everything and we are 7 we economize however especially we don't give ourselves anything but the absolute essential all our expenses are well recorded and you will see that we have economized.135

Reine's letters reveal only one major disagreement with her husband. In the fall of 1838 he was considering going to Paris. In her next letter Reine wrote that she was happy that he was going to New York, but not about his other plans because then it would be even longer before she saw him again. Although this was clearly his decision to make and

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12.3

she accepted this, she did try to sway him with an appeal to his emotions and feelings for her: [I]t is true my dear that you will tell me that I do not understand the situation well enough, you know better than me what you must do but I will tell you sincerely that I am very hurt by all that and it is therefore true that I will not see you again for some time. [I]t is terrible for me to think it[.] [I]t is very certain that if I didn't have my poor sister who consoles me, and what I owe my children I would not know what to do with myself I miss you so much and I grieve, but I repeat to you once again do for the best.136

This letter had the desired effect and Ludger did not go, but not without some regret, as this letter from Marguerite indicates: "[W]e have been troubled in learning in your last letter that you regret not having gone to Paris last year, and by fear of hurting your family, I hope it was not because of what we wrote that would pain us you must yourself have felt how much it would have hurt her [Reine] to see you leave for so far away on the eve of when we expected you were coming back to this country, we must put all this in the hands of a benevolent God and I hope that he will have pity on us."137 That Reine felt she could express to her husband her objections to his going to Paris and that he would not go largely to avoid hurting his family are perhaps the best indications we have of the nature of their relationship. Both agreed that it was his decision to make, yet he was willing to defer to Reine's feelings on the matter. Although these letters reflect a period of great difficulty, the regularity of the correspondence and the wealth of detail in Reine's letters as well as the joy that each of his letters brought her and his family all evidence a loving relationship. If the degree to which he was missed can be taken as an indication of how highly he was regarded when he was present, Ludger Duvernay was much appreciated indeed. Amedee and Mary Westcott Papineau The strong affection evidenced in the courtship of Mary Westcott and Amedee Papineau (figure 4.3) continued after they were wed. In the first year Amedee noted every monthly anniversary of their marriage in his journal. Each of these was also marked by a toast, "To the renewal of the Honey Moon," and a taste of wedding cake/ 38 When Mary visited her parents in September, he referred to her three-week absence as a "painful separation" (separation penible).139 Their closeness was such that even while surrounded by family and friends in Saratoga, Mary found something missing: "I find a void - a something

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Fig. 4.3 Mary Westcott Papineau and Amedee Papineau, c. 1851. NAC 0—079115. They were married on 2.0 May 1846. Their three surviving children were Ella, Marie-Louise, and Louis-Joseph.

wanting - to give a satisfied happiness. Home is the same dear home - loved faces are around me, but I look in vain for one dearer than all - St feel in truth that my home is here no longer."140 On their first anniversary Amedee regretted the absence of their parents to celebrate with them, but as to the year that had just passed, he was entirely positive: "Happy anniversary. It was a year today that Mary and I were united in happiness, forming but one soul. No clouds in all that time. May there never be any."141 If jealousy can be seen as an expression of affection, then Amedee expressed that as well, at least according to Mary. He did not appreciate the attention she received from officers at a ball she attended with his father, and even less the fact that one of them had sent her a book to read.I4i While away visiting in 1847, she asked him if he missed someone to play with his hair, to keep him from reading. Thus we see indirectly one of the ways she expressed

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affection for him when they were together.143 On their second anniversary, she wrote to her father that Amedee loved and esteemed her more and more.144 Evidence of their affection continues throughout her correspondence. Mary adjusted quickly to her new surroundings and was well received by the Papineau family and by Montreal society.145 This was unquestionably a companionate marriage. The couple preferred their domestic time to going out, although they did attend a large number of social functions.146 They discussed politics and current events together and in the larger family circle. Mary was knowledgeable on such matters and clearly joined in these discussions. Another interest the couple shared was gardening. Many of Mary's letters to her father refer to the exchange of seeds and plants, and to Amedee's involvement in gardening. The garden was a significant consideration when they chose their homes. The separation from her parents was one that Mary felt very strongly at the time of her marriage. The distance between them was considerable, but they were able to deal with it through extensive visits. Once a year throughout most of her marriage, Mary visited her parents at Saratoga for a stay of several weeks. Her father, and sometimes her stepmother, visited the young couple in Montreal at least once a year and also visited the Papineau family at Petite Nation. Amedee often went to retrieve Mary from Saratoga, and thus he continued to visit her parents and his friends there. Unlike families who could not afford the cost of extensive travel, they were thus able to ease the pain of separation, and their marriage did not take away from either family so much as add to the family circle. Religion, which had been the main concern before the wedding, did not become one after the fact. Mary sometimes accompanied her husband to a Catholic mass at Notre-Dame, but most Sundays she attended her own church. He sometimes went with her, but he might also stay home or go visiting. Over a period of time she questioned her beliefs and wondered about the benefits of the Catholic and Episcopal perspective as compared to the Presbyterian faith of her father. Several letters to her father express her sentiments on that topic.147 She decided to make a commitment to the Presbyterian faith around the time of her daughter Ella's birth. She and Amedee also agreed that Ella would be raised in the Presbyterian faith. Therefore, in the event of her mother's death while she was still young, Ella was to be given to the care of her grandfather Westcott.148 Mary intended for both her daughter and herself to be baptized at the same time, when she got back on her feet after the birth (iz June 1852.). A letter from Amedee's father, however, prompted them to baptize the child immediately in secret. This ritual,

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THE C O U P L E

however, was to be kept from Mary's parents. Writing to his father, Amedee hoped that there was no profanation involved.149 Their son, on the other hand, would be baptized as a Roman Catholic. "Oncle cure Bruneau" was asked to officiate, and the ceremony at Notre-Dame on Thursday, 2.3 March 1854, was followed by a celebration at their home. The Westcotts were in Montreal for this event, which obviously did not cause a problem for them.150 The liberal attitudes of the Papineau family and of Amedee in particular undoubtedly eased the difficulties that might otherwise have arisen over religion in this inter-faith marriage. Both families took a position of mutual respect for the faith of the other, and there was no attempt to unduly influence either Mary or Amedee. The couple's relationship remained conventional while their children were young and until after Mary's father's death in 1865. They supported one another through the great joys and great sorrows they faced, some of which are discussed in the following sections. Their joys included the birth of their children; their sorrows the loss of Amedee's brother Gustave, of their first-born son, and of Mary's father. For the remaining twenty-five years of Mary's life, they spent a considerable amount of time travelling together in Europe with the children as well as a number of occasions when Amedee remained in Canada while she travelled. It is not clear if this represented an estrangement of sorts or if they had simply outgrown their need for a close domestic life.151 CONCLUSION

Our examination of courtship reveals that by the nineteenth century an increasing number of couples married for love rather than purely economic considerations. They looked for someone to marry who would be a companion, not just a housewife and mother or a breadwinner. It is only by looking at couples after marriage, however, that we can determine if these ideals were in fact being translated into relationships that exhibited mutual affection and respect. By examining the correspondence of married couples, we have been able to reconstruct to some extent the nature of their relationships. As one of the roles of family correspondence is to maintain a relationship during a time apart, we can expect that these letters contain only the information and sentiments that contribute to this end. The writers often emphasize the loneliness and emptiness of the domestic space without the absent spouse. Those away from home describe their social activities for the amusement and interest of their loved one, and with ample reassurance that the events pale in comparison to domestic life or would be pleasurable only if they were enjoyed together.

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Thus these letters have their own form of bias. Nonetheless, they represent the writers' version of reality, and in that sense they are far superior to prescriptive literature for purposes of understanding the actual nature of relationships. Of course, letters provide the most information about spouses who were separated for the longest periods of time. It is difficult to know how different these couples were from those who did not face such separations. Husbands who depended on their wives to run a family business or farm while they were away, for example, may well have been less patriarchal in their attitudes than others. While I make no claims for the representational nature of the couples examined, their correspondence has allowed us to gain important insights into married life that would not otherwise be available. The deep emotional attachment between the spouses in all the cases examined made their periods of separation difficult. Their letters show that they shared joint interests including the cares and concerns of raising their children. With one notable exception, they held similar religious positions and turned to their faith to help them through stressful times. The wives of political men shared their interest in politics and readily discussed such matters with them. While some individuals expressed sentiments that reflect what historians have seen as a growing emotional attachment to the domestic circle in this period, social as well as political and economic priorities frequently led to wives as well as husbands absenting themselves from the family hearth. Wives were left in charge of the farm or business when husbands were absent; husbands were expected to supervise domestic activities when wives were away from home. The reality of early nineteenth century family life, therefore, seems to have worked against strict boundaries between the worlds of men and women. Close bonds between women, as between Reine Duvernay and her sister, Marguerite Harnois, did not replace the primary emotional bond between husband and wife. This remained a patriarchal system in which husbands retained the right to act for the family in legal and property matters. Yet in the cases seen here, they did so within the context of love and respect for their wives. Wives accepted their husbands' right to make decisions for the family, but they also expected their views to be heard. Generally these couples seem to have exhibited high levels of affection and of interdependence. The examination of these relationships allows us to replace abstract concepts such as "affective individualism" and "companionate marriage" with images of Robert Hoyle writing regularly to his "Dear Eliza," of Marcus obtaining plants in Kingston for Lydia's garden, of Mary and Amedee sitting together reading on a Sunday afternoon, of William Douglas wishing

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THE C O U P L E

his "Dearest Jeannie" was home to deal with the servants, of Susanna Moodie struggling to keep down her panic when she fails to hear from John, and of Reine Duvernay heartsick with longing for Ludger's return home. Ironically, it is the absence of domestic bliss as much as its presence for these couples that allows us to see its importance.

PART TWO

Parents and Children

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INTRODUCTION

When Ella Papineau was born, her father was overjoyed as well as relieved that his wife's long, hard labour had ended without mishap. He expressed his wonder at the arrival of his first child, "this new mysterious and sacred link between Mary and me, this new us, this new trinity."1 His perspective on the birth of his child followed naturally from the companionate nature of his marriage and the love he had for his wife. Although few diarists were as eloquent about their emotions as Amedee Papineau, the expression of affection for their children was virtually universal. Historians agree that attitudes towards children changed in the period from 1780 to 1830, reflecting the influence of Enlightenment writers such as Locke and Rousseau. In the United States this is usually seen as the rise of the "Republican Family." Instead of controlling children, parents were advised to teach them to control themselves. As they would have to make independent choices later in life, children needed to develop self-government. "Childhood, previously conceived as a period of submission to authority, was increasingly viewed as a period of growth, development, and preparation for adulthood."1 Parents, especially those influenced by evangelical religion, took seriously their role in forming the character of their children, and affection did not mean lack of discipline. That discipline, however, was more likely to involve the withdrawal of parental love and the production of guilt than the rod.3 Maternal love, because it was self-sacrificing, was viewed by evangelicals as having a transformative power.* This increased the significance of women's role in childrearing. Fathers remained as authority figures, but their role became increasingly symbolic as economic change undermined patriarchal authority.5 Other changes included the longer period of time that middle-class children, especially, were likely to live at home. Some attended school longer, and by mid-century "adolescence" was emerging as a distinct phase in the life cycle. This new pattern was more likely to produce stress between parents and their teenage children than earlier practices of sending them out to work or to serve as apprentices.6 These changing attitudes towards children and childrearing did not necessarily affect all areas equally or at the same rate. In rural Upper and Lower Canada, for example, we might expect that patriarchal power remained unchallenged longer than in middle-class urban families. The influence of the new domestic ideology might have been expected to be slight among the illiterate. However, our sources, most

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of which originate from the middle class, reflect many of these patterns and trends. Affectionate relations, as with Ella and Amedee, often began at birth and grew in the dangerous early years as parents coped with diseases of infancy and early childhood. It was when parents had to deal with serious sickness or the death of a young child that this affection was expressed most directly. Although women had the role of primary caregiver, fathers too nursed their children when they were ill. Even after children married and left home, the bonds of affection established early in life frequently continued. When parents reached old age, the tables could turn as adult children cared for their aging parents. Not all relationships between parents and children followed this model: young Henry Hoyle, for example, rebelled against his father's standards of behaviour and left home without staying in touch. Even good relationships could sometimes be soured by an ill-advised action. Our documentation, however, is biased towards families with affectionate relations with their older children, since they were the ones most likely to correspond.

5

Childbirth and Infancy

PREGNANCY The birth of a child was a key moment in every family's history. The event was entered in diaries and mentioned in letters to parents, kin, and friends. Pregnancy did not leave as many records. While a few correspondents spoke very openly on the subject, others failed to mention it at all. Reine Duvernay, for example, was silent on the subject of her pregnancy in letters to her husband. This could have been because of a reticence to speak of such matters, but it could also be that pregnancy was considered such a normal state for a married woman of childbearing years as to not require any comment. In contrast, a friend of her husband wrote to him saying that he would not be able to make his planned trip to Canada because his wife was four months pregnant and the doctor advised against it. In compensation, he hoped for a boy who would be "M« patriote." His wife, he continued, was in perfect health, fat, alert, and very happy.1 Amedee Papineau and his wife, Mary, also seem to have been quite open about her pregnancy, at least with their parents. He first referred to her pregnancy on 15 March 1852 when he received a letter from his parents in response to telling them "a great secret." On 4 April 1852 they received an unannounced and unplanned visit from the Westcotts in response to this news. Mrs Westcott stayed with Mary, while her father returned home to close up the house before coming back again early in May. Mary intended to bring in a nurse, Mrs Dikerman, from Saratoga. She would come when she was finished attending to her cousin's confinement/ Amedee's mother was also planning to be with them for the birth. In the interim, however, she wrote to Amedee, trying to dispel some of the fears he had expressed in a letter to his father. She reassured him that the agitated movements of the baby simply meant that the child was well. She recommended that he deal with his

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wife gently, since she was sensitive. She also asked him to reassure Mary that it was normal to feel more discomfort in the last month and that women who suffered a lot through their pregnancy did not necessarily have a harder time with their delivery. She told him not to worry about a nurse because she would be able to look after the baby. Finally, she referred to the anxiety that Mary felt around being attended by a doctor. She had already written to her that it would not be as disconcerting as she thought.3 This letter sheds light on the many concerns a young woman might have over her pregnancy. It is interesting to note here that Julie Papineau wrote openly on this subject to her son. Frances Tweedie Milne continued her diary after marriage and through the birth of her first child. Only a few entries refer to her pregnancy, none of them detailed. At the beginning of January 1870, she mentioned that she was missing her period: "Courses should have come on, my last 17 Dec/69." After a few entries in which she noted she was not feeling well, she then wrote: "Went to church ... Courses should have cm." After one more notation of "Not feeling very well," the diary remained silent on the subject of her pregnancy, and that term was never used.4 On 9 May she noted, "I am tired out not worth much." Then she began making references which suggested she was anticipating the arrival of a baby. The first was on 9 June: "Started a little gown today, the ist one, sitting up stairs." On n June she "Finished z gowns" and on z6 August she showed a friend her "little clothes." On 2.8 August she missed church because of not feeling well, but otherwise seems to have kept busy as usual. She continued to work on baby clothes and bibs in September.5 Robert Hoyle did not ask his wife directly in his letters if she was pregnant. When Mary, his daughter, wrote saying that Eliza was getting fat, he asked: "is it the climate, living or has the old lady with the red P—t discontinued her visits, or omitted one of her regular ones?"6 Eliza apparently failed to understand this veiled reference. Susanna Moodie, who was also pregnant while her husband was away, told him that she would not have informed him if her child had died, in order to save him unnecessary pain, since he could not have come home. It seems possible that women withheld information about pregnancy because they never felt sure that they would successfully carry to term and deliver the child without mishap. Women lived with the real fear that pregnancy or childbirth could result in complications and even death.7 MISCARRIAGES

Husbands also had to live with fears around childbearing. We hear from John Douglas's perspective of his wife's brush with death after a

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miscarriage: "I feel deeply when I tell you that Mary is very low she is so much so that she is Dangerous," he wrote. She had been sick for three weeks and then seemed better. She then worsened and had reached a critical low point that left her husband tortured with fear: "I cannot endure the thought of being left alone fore for alone it would be me & the children God for Bid it I still cling to the hope that she will be restored to health I have Just sent for another Doctr (You will be wondering what is the mattr I may say that she had a Miscariag & other things has set in she is very weak."8 Although Mary did survive, this short passage is nonetheless the emotional outpouring of a husband who fears the death of his spouse. To him in contrast to the enormity of that possible loss the miscarriage seems incidental. John Malloch recorded his wife Isabella's miscarriage in his diary. On 28 March 1842. he wrote: "Mrs M very ill today - thinks it is a miscarriage called in Doctor Wilson who confirms it Much wine & Brandy ordered - Mrs Bell her Mother called to see her." The following day Isabella was a little better but "must keep her bed - great discharge - is not allowed to change her clothes cannot sit up." His next two entries mention that she was getting better. In this case, the misCarriage does not appear to have caused undue alarm. CHILDBIRTH

Most diarists recorded the birth of a child in their family or in their circle of friends and relatives. The details they considered pertinent were the sex of the child, the time of its arrival, and the health of child and mother. Beyond this, few details were given. An entry in John Mailoch's diary for 27 March 1843 IS a case in point. He stated that his wife "was taken ill this morning, and was safely delivered of a daughter at a quarter before 4 oclock this afternoon both are doing well."9 The following week he noted that Sarah Ann Malloch left after a stay of several weeks. Although if is probably safe to assume that she was there primarily to assist Isabella Malloch through the birth, this remains conjecture. The evidence as to whether or not Malloch attended the birth of his child is unclear. In New England, births presided over by midwives and attended by female relatives and neighbours began to give way in the late eighteenth century in urban middle and upper class circles to a more private and restricted birth process presided over by the male practitioner. In this period husbands did not usually stay in the room for the actual delivery.10 It has often been assumed that husbands were not present at the birth of their children in the nineteenth century as well, but this is not necessarily founded on solid evidence. The fact

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that women wanted female kin, especially mothers or sisters, to be present does not mean they were excluding their husbands from the scene. Edmund Peel, a half-pay naval officer who settled near Sherbrooke with his wife, Lucy, expressed his thoughts on this at the birth of their first child. Writing in her letter journal home, he announced the birth of their daughter after a "long severe and painful illness" and felt grateful that the doctor in attendance was "a very clever man." He continues: "I was present all the time to support Lucy and I was much distressed to witness her agonies. I thought it the proper place for a husband at such a moment, considering it nothing less than false delicacy which would make a man absent himself at a time when his presence and support are most required, it is a fearful thing to see a woman in her pain."11 He does not mention the presence of any female attendants. Writing three weeks later, Lucy acknowledges that her husband had nursed her and attended to her, scarcely leaving her bedside for a fortnight: "[H]e was to me, father, mother, brother, sister, nurse and husband."11 Given the close rapport Lucy had with a Mrs Felton and her daughters from the time of her arrival in Sherbrooke, it was not the lack of potential female attendants that led her husband to play that role but his desire to.13 An examination of midwifery and obstetrics manuals and marriage and health guides published prior to 1911 has led Jill Suitor to conclude that husbands began to make an appearance in the birthing room around 1830. Some manuals describe positions for birthing in which the husband sits behind the wife and helps to support her. A few practitioners wanted to exclude husbands from the room, but the fact that they found it necessary to mention this suggests that husbands were sometimes present. Most felt that the wife should have the choice of having her husband there or not. His role when present was to provide emotional support for his wife. The advent of husbands' participation in childbirth therefore coincided with the rise of the companionate marriage, the greater focus on children and childhood, and the decline in fertility, and thus appears to be related to these changes in family life.1* Other recent historians have also argued, based on an examination of family papers, that men were involved in the birth of their children although they were not always in attendance at the birth itself.15 Of the two diaries examined in detail below, that of Frances Tweedie Milne provides little comment on her reaction to the birth of her child or her husband's participation, whereas that of Amedee Papineau vividly expresses his emotional involvement with the birth of his daughter.

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Frances Tweedie Milne By mid-September Frances Tweedie Milne, now living in Markham, was close to the end of her term. She looked forward to having her mother, sister, and other female relatives with her for the delivery. On 10 September she noted: "Looking for Whitby people - but disappointed." She began feeling more tired, but she was nonetheless making window blinds. Her husband, William, did not seem concerned, as he left her at home when he went to the fair on 6 October. She wrote: "[I]t seemed a very lonely day dreaded going to bed alone Knitting." The baby would be born two days later: "Fine day. Not well all day sent for Mrs. Jacques after tea Wm. got home about 8 P.M. I sent for Mrs. B. & Dr. about 7 P.M. Very sick all night. Sat. Oct. 8. Baby was born this Saturday morning at 1/2 after 6 A.M. We all felt rejoiced when it was over. Dr. didn't go away till 5 P.M. feeling easy." The midwife spent the next two afternoons with Frances and the doctor checked on her the next two evenings. She was fine, but the baby had sore eyes. The next day Frances had her bed changed and the doctor brought something to bathe the baby's eyes with. On 12 October Frances wrote, "Feeling stronger." Although her company from Whitby still had not arrived, her husband went to the Markham Fair that Friday. On Sunday, she was up briefly: "Rather dull day. I had my bed made & I sat in rocking chair only stayed up a few minutes Wm in the room." On 19 October she "Didn't get up today my head aching some all pretty well." Her mother and sister and other "Whitby" folk finally arrived on 20 October, twelve days after the baby was born, and only her mother stayed with her. She began sitting up, but was still not downstairs on 22 October. She had the assistance of a Mrs Burns through to 25 October when she also received the visit of "Aunt Brown & Fanny" in the afternoon.16 In the days that followed Frances slowly got back on her feet and started doing things again. Sometimes the baby was good, sometimes he was "fretty," and sometimes he was "cross." A friend came for tea, and her mother helped with sewing and other jobs such as making up sheets. William bought a cradle while in town. Frances fixed it up and had the baby in it the next day. On 4 November she noted: "Baby fretty. His ist crow today." The following day someone came for her mother, and they left in the afternoon. That evening Frances wrote: "Very fine evening I feel lonesome." The next day was Sunday, and when William went for a walk she was left "alone most of the afternoon" with the "baby pretty cross." As her routine as mother emerged, Frances stopped making daily references to the baby. On 2.5 November she noted another landmark:

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"Went over and called on Mrs. Little my first time out anyplace fine day." Since the birth on 8 October, she had been confined to the house for almost two months.17 Although her diary entries lack detail, we can nonetheless see the extent to which her life changed to revolve around her baby. Throughout this early period, however, the child remained anonymous. Amedee Papineau Amedee Papineau's diary contains a detailed account of the birth of his daughter. The arrival of the nurse, Mrs Dikerman, was noted on 11 May. The birth of his daughter was not recorded until 18 June, six days after the event, because he had fallen ill immediately after.'8 Even with this delay, he wrote of the event with emotion and revealed the extreme stress that he endured while waiting for the outcome, which for some time seemed uncertain. Mary went into labour in the night, woke him early in the morning, and after consulting the nurse, they sent for the doctor. Labour proceeded well until mid-afternoon, at which point it stopped. Because Mary had had health problems in the past, and her own mother, having already had one child destroyed to save her life, had died from childbirth complications, there were real fears that Mary would suffer the same fate. Amedee described how he was both drawn to the cries of pain and repulsed by them, moving alternately from the door of the room to the far end of the garden. He was banished from the room itself only in the afternoon, because the doctor believed that his look of anxiety and terror would hinder the patient more than help her. Mary's father stayed away from the house all day, whereas her stepmother hid behind as many closed doors as possible. The attendants to the birth were Mrs Dikerman and Dr Macdonnell. Amedee's mother, Julie Papineau, was there also, coming and going from the birth room. Although the doctor thought they would have to sacrifice the child to save the mother, he advocated patience and not intervening with instruments of violence except as a last resort. Finally, around 7 P.M., after a more piercing cry than usual, Amedee heard the doctor saying '"There is your child, poor dear woman! It is a daughter.'" Amedee ran to announce the news to his father-in-law, both speechless with crying. In all, labour had lasted sixteen hours. Such a delivery would have taxed the most hardened husband. Amedee Papineau was far from such. This was their first child, born after several years of marriage during which time his wife's health had been poor. He was also a man who loved his wife and saw this child as a symbol of their union. He was now overjoyed.

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Ella Papineau, carried to term despite predictions to the contrary, weighed in at eight pounds. She cried only to ask for a breast. Her mother regained her strength rapidly, did not suffer from fever, and had plenty of milk. Already at six days the family was arguing over whether the baby resembled her mother or her grandfather. Amedee described her in a letter to his father a few days later, and went on at length about her beauty. He attached importance to this because she seemed built to live, and beauty is a desirable thing in a woman.19 Even though he already loved and admired his daughter, in his letter to his father he stated that Providence would bless them with a son in the future, and that he would be called Louis-Joseph. His joy in his daughter co-existed with the desire for a son to carry on the family line. On the day his son was born, Mary woke him at 4 A.M. and told him she was in labour. They sent a servant for the doctor but did not wake her parents. The doctor arrived an hour later. From 6 A.M. the pain was worse, but Mary stood or sat until 9 A.M. at which point she went to bed. She gave birth at 10:30. Amedee was with his father-in-law on the veranda, waiting, when a servant was sent to get him to come to see his son. The baby was weighed later that day and found to be seven and a half pounds. The doctor left at noon, returning briefly at 6 P.M. That day, Amedee noted, the status of his daughter changed, "and the young Ella ... must, from today, take her proper name of Miss Ella, and abandon that of 'Be-bi Papo' to her brother, the new arrival."20 Unlike baby Milne, who had to wait for some time for a name, from before birth this one had the name of his grandfather. It would be made official at a christening ceremony when the baby was a week old. Amedee's uncle, cure Bruneau of Vercheres, was invited to conduct the ceremony, which took place in the parish church of Notre Dame. The godfather was the baby's grandfather, Louis-Joseph Papineau, and his godmother was his great-aunt Dessaulles. He was carried by his nurse. Mrs Westcott accompanied them, while Mr Westcott stayed home with his daughter.21 Through the choice of his name and his godparents, this baby was linked into an existing kinship network from birth. CHILDBIRTH COMPLICATIONS

Although many women have faced the risks of childbirth in the past, few have written as eloquently on their suffering as Susanna Moodie writing to her absent husband. He left shortly after she had given birth to their son, "Johnnie." Some time later she had problems with her breast. During Christmas week she was in great agony and confined to bed: "I lay like a crushed snake on my back unable to move or even to be raised forward without the most piteous cries." Her sister Catharine

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Traill came to her assistance, and they decided to get the doctor and a nurse. Her brother-in-law was sent to fetch the doctor and returned with him at 3:00 A.M. The doctor immediately lanced Susanna's breast, and she was able to move her arm for the first time in ten days. More than a pint of material discharged out of the wound, which continued to drain. During this ordeal her servant Jenny "nursed her with neglect." Even the doctor, doubtless used to seeing settlers in very primitive conditions, seemed concerned about her being left in a "forlorn, cold, dirty room feebly lighted by the wretched lamp." By midJanuary Susanna could write to her husband, and although still weak, she could crawl about the house. Her daughter Katie had nursed her when she was very ill, and had "sat by my bed crying late into the night."22 This suffering did not reduce her attachment to "Little Johnnie." She continued to nurse him, but felt that her milk would probably never return to the affected breast. She wrote to her husband, "Surely my dear love I have bought this boy at a price. He ought to be my best child. You would not know him, he is grown such a fine creature, and laughs, and capers, and crows, and is the most lively babe I ever had."23 Susanna's sister Catharine, just emerging from her own confinement, came to visit her twice while she was ill.24 This whole episode was very hard on Susanna. Any plans she had for leaving the "discomforts and miseries" of Douro were abandoned. Her illness had "tamed down [her] spirit," and though she tried to be content, she admitted that she had "shed more tears" since John Moodie had left than in her whole marriage.25 However, in February she wrote that her breast was better and that she was regaining strength.26 Reine Duvernay had also recently given birth when her husband fled to the United States. Throughout his exile, she too suffered from an ongoing problem with her breasts,27 serious enough for her to be put under a doctor's care. Often bedridden, she was given medication as treatment for her condition but did not always take it. When her doctor became angry with her on this account, she resolved to listen to his advice. She also thought she needed more purges - obviously one of the ways in which she had been treated. But despite her improved cooperation, she still did not recover, and it was decided to send her for treatment in Montreal by the nuns at the hospital. Despite the family's hopes, the nuns did not cure Reine. She was still in great pain and had four holes in the breasts when she returned. Later that month she was again in bed, despite having taken some of the medicine Ludger had suggested. When the doctor came, he made her show him her breast and lanced it, which relieved her. She also took

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some calomel, which the doctor had tried to get her to take for a long time. This apparently helped, and a few weeks later she was continuing to take her medicine. By early April she had improved, but her breast was still suppurating. By the end of the month she was much better and in May she was well enough to go to Burlington to visit her husband for the first time since his exile.28 Her troubles were not over, however, and that summer (.Reine was now pregnant again) her breast had abscessed again and had to be drained. In spite of taking calomel, she became ill once more in December. In January 1839 her breast was still not healed. It may then have got better or she may have stopped referring to it over the next few months, but in July it was bothering her again.29 Many more women must have suffered in silence from similar problems arising out of childbirth. The state of medical care in the early nineteenth century was still primitive with regards to such matters. Lancing an abscessed breast would have been necessary, but purges and bleeding would have only further weakened the sufferer. Other women were less fortunate and died in childbirth. The family papers used in this study have no direct accounts of such deaths, but include several references to them. In some cases, such as Mary Westcott's mother, reference to a death in childbirth is explicit. In other cases, the fact that mother and a newborn child died at the same time or in the same year strongly suggests that this was the case. Robert Hoyle's first wife, Pamela Wright, and their infant son both died in 1825; William Bell Junior's wife and newborn died in March 1837. The emotional impact of these losses is difficult to assess. Some husbands, like Hoyle, were able to get past this and remarry. William Bell, on other hand, fell into depression and began drinking excessively. His early death may well have been related to his difficulty coping with this personal tragedy.30 INFANCY

When on 3 December Frances Tweedie Milne noted in her diary: "Charley 8 weeks old today," this was the first entry in which the baby was named and his sex was evident. Before this he was simply "baby." There is no indication of when or how the parents decided to name him. Since Frances continued to call him "baby" after he was named, this was probably a pet name, just as Ella Papineau was referred to as "Baby Papo" until the birth of her brother. Although Susanna and John Moodie had not officially named their baby right away, she reminded him, "But remember my beautiful baby is to be called Johnny. You may add De Rottenburg if you like." This was in response to

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his letters expressing his admiration for the Baron De Rottenburg, and a desire to name the child after him.31 The naming of a child, usually accompanied by a christening ceremony, was an important family ritual in this period. The name was chosen carefully and helped to integrate the child into family and community. Children were often named after one of their godparents. They might also be named after a parent or grandparent or be given a name that was traditional in that family. More rarely, children might be named after a political or military figure admired by the parents, as noted above in John Moodie's admiration for the Baron De Rottenburg. Some of the patriotes also broke with traditional child-naming practices to honour their heroes. Ludger Duvernay, for example, named his American-born son Franklin.31 One of his friends boasted that he had a godson named Edouard Chenier Derome.33 In an equally telling Tory gesture, William McGinnis, named his son, born after the Rebellions, Colborne.34 One of Sally Wells Malloch's brothers, born 30 July 1812, was named Isaac Brock.35 Further research in the marriage records of the period would probably reveal other examples. The desire to honour a person by transmitting his or her name to the next generation could lead to giving the same name to the next child of the same sex if the first one died.36 Although this practice had become less common in the nineteenth century, it was followed by Amedee and Mary Papineau when they named their second son LouisJoseph, like the first, to honour Amedee's father. The choice of godparents was important, because godparentage created a fictive kinship between families. Eighteenth-century families often chose godparents for their children from among the elite, thereby creating vertical ties. By the nineteenth century, however, they were more likely to choose godparents from among their own kin and to use this institution to create horizontal ties. Looking at the baptismal records for the early nineteenth century in Batiscan and Sainte-Anne, Colin Coates found that godparents were related in 62.5 per cent of baptisms compared to only 41.7 per cent a century earlier.37 The new attention that parents were giving their children started in infancy. Karin Calvert has suggested that once parents accepted that infants would not behave like adults, they began to see their babies as "gurgling and cooing charmers." "Parents liked the way babies looked and acted, and they revelled in infant antics to a degree that could drive non-parents to distraction."38 Susanna Moodie clearly enjoyed her "little Johny" when he was an infant and could simply be enjoyed for his "frolic and fun." 39 The diary of Frances Milne for 1870 does not express her emotions about her baby. Frequent but short references, however, suggest that he

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was the focus of considerable attention. She records milestones in his young life: being weighed at two months old (8 December), being left by his mother the first time at almost three months old (29 December), and going calling for the first time at the end of the year: "Baby very good Called at Campbells Baby 12, weeks old today his first drive out all well" (31 December). Information on how infants were cared for is scarce. Jane Douglas refers to bathing her little boy for the first time when he was already almost a year old. This may have been partly to relieve him from the heat, since she says it was 100 degrees that day and she left him in his little shirt to kick about rather than dress him immediately.40 The Papineaus weighed their daughter monthly.41 When she was five months old she was vaccinated.41 Marcus Child as we have seen, refers to having been vaccinated as a child and to having his children vaccinated as well. We do not know how common such practices were, but they do suggest a concern for the health of children from birth. Fanny Joseph was born on 2,6 August 1847 during a nine-month hiatus in her father's diary. When Abraham resumed writing, he recorded her birth, including the exact time, with little detail other than to say that he, the doctor, and Mrs Nanquil were called around 3 A.M. and that by 5:30 the baby was born. Later that year when they were in Montreal, she was named at the synagogue.43 At the end of the book in which this entry was made, however, Abraham made three "memo" entries indicating her progress as an infant: "Fanny had her first tooth at the age of 9 months;" "Fanny was weaned on 15 Sept 48 aged 12, months & 2.0 days;" and "Fanny walked without assistance z6 Nov: aged 15 months & cut her fifth & sixth teeth on same day." Abraham's attention to the stages of his child's growth is similar to that of Amedee Papineau. When Ella was five months old, her father noted that she was always good and that she was beginning to observe objects. Two weeks earlier she had started to laugh and cry loudly. She had been recognizing her mother, father, nurse, and pet dog for some time.44 Although Amedee did not mention her often in his diary, he was clearly well aware of her progress. That he was almost obsessed with his daughter is suggested in a letter from Mary to her father in August. She mentioned that the baby was being very good and ate and slept like clockwork. She refrained from saying more because she was sure that Amedee's letter to him would be filled with description of the baby.45 In February Amedee proudly announced that Ella had mastered her first syllable, "da," which she repeated with satisfaction. In March he noted the appearance at nine months of her first tooth and that she had said "Ma Ma" for the first time shortly before.4* Such attention to the detail of their infants' lives is evidence of the writers'

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interest in their children as individuals as well as of their enjoyment of parenthood. THE L O S S OF AN I N F A N T Infant mortality was high in the period studied. In Montreal, where the mortality rate was three times greater than the general Canadian rate at mid-century, roughly one in four children would die in their first year.47 There seems to have been little interest in this phenomenon until the i86os: "It was as though for Church and public alike the high level of infant mortality was considered a natural fact, tied to the high natality."48 For many women this meant giving birth to eight or nine children to have only four of five of them survive to adulthood. A study of mortality in Toronto has shown that infant mortality was high there as well. For 1850 to 1854, 37 per cent of all male deaths and 30 per cent of all female deaths were of infants under one year.49 Although the rate was lower in rural areas, the experience of John Glass Malloch would not have been unusual. Reflecting on his daughter Mary Ann's fifth birthday, he noted that he and his wife had had three children since then, of whom only a boy, Edward, had survived. Another boy and a girl had died. Although John did not mention their names and was past grieving for them, the memory impinged on the happy occasion of his daughter's birthday.50 Religion helped parents to accept their fate. Consolation literature recognized that "the death of a child was the supreme test of Christian faith" and tried to explain it in such a way as to console the Christian mourner. The death was described as taking the little one away from a world of pain and sorrow.51 Although as a population there seems to have been an acceptance of this situation, at the individual level the bereaved parents could still be devastated. The frequency with which this happened did not necessarily make it any easier to deal with. The loss of an infant of only a few days may have been somewhat easier, however, than losing a baby several months old. Abraham and Sophia Joseph suffered such a loss in 1850. Their first son was born on 7 May. He was to be named Henry after his grandfather, being the first Joseph grandson. Only two days later Abraham woke to sounds of the child convulsing. The nurse "I fear administered with best intentions - a fatal dose of something." The doctor was called. The child was given a hot bath and looked better for a time, but a second doctor had to be called in the morning. By eleven the baby seemed well enough for Abraham to leave for the office, leaving Dr Sewell, Mrs McCord, and Mrs Burrage in charge. Not much later Abraham was sent for. "I drove back in a caleche and found my first

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son dead," he wrote. The eldest son of a friend sat up with the "little body" that night. The next day, after being brought upstairs for a last kiss from its mother, the body was placed in the "little coffin." The next day Sophia's brother took it by steamer to Montreal and then to his mother's home to be buried by the family. The following day, 12. May, Abraham went to the office. It was not until i June, however, that Sophia was well enough to walk and for the nurse, Mrs Armstrong, to leave.51 Abraham makes no mention of how difficult this situation was for Sophia. Although his return to work suggests that he was not immobilized by the death of his infant son, the great detail with which he records the events suggest that he was profoundly affected. The significance of following the proper religious rituals as a way of dealing with death is suggested by the fact that the body was sent to Montreal and given a funeral at the family synagogue. Mary Westcott and Amedee Papineau lost their first son, LouisJoseph, when he was ten months old. Their pain at this loss was extreme. Amedee, who kept a diary regularly but seldom included reference to his emotional state, poured out his feelings, or rather his state of shock and inability to comprehend what had happened, three weeks after the fact, on 2.5 February 1855.53 His entry opens: "I have a horrible page to fill. I have neither the strength nor the courage. What emptiness and coldness surrounds us and freezes us!"54 He noted that on 4 February, a Sunday, they had fetched a doctor for Louis-Joseph, whose cold seemed worse. The doctor returned twice on Monday and reassured them that the child would be better the next day. The doctor was sent for in haste the next morning, arriving at nine. But by midday their son was dead: "the dear little angel was in heaven!"55 The sudden shock almost killed the parents, Amedee continued. "The mother is desolate (inconsolable)." All of their hopes and dreams for young Louis-Joseph were dashed.56 He died so peacefully that they were unable to know the exact moment of his passing. Mary spent the next three hours trying to warm him back into life. Amedee closed the child's eyes and mouth, but it was Mary who finally placed him in his cradle (I'ensevelit). Amedee guarded him and moved him from room to room. They had his daguerreotype taken. Eleven days later, on 17 February, Amedee took the body to his father's seigneury, Montigny, where the two men laid him in the family tomb at the funerary chapel they had finished the summer before. Amedee returned home the next day to Mary and his daughter, Ella, "the only two treasures which are left me."57 He closed his entry asking God to have pity on them, as they faced these strange and unbelievable events which he felt unable to sort out.58

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It was not until some time later59 that Mary, writing to her parents, tried to express her feelings: The shock was so terrible so sudden and overwhelming that I cannot yet fully realize it - & I hear his dear voice & go hundreds of times to my room, almost believing I shall see him in his little chair But no - the chair is empty & the room vacant & still, 8c my poor heart more & more desolate. God knows I am thankful for the many blessings left to me - but oh! how hard to bear with resignation such a blow! I have tasted enough of the bitterness of life to know that I should not mourn the child - He has gone to a far happier existence but oh how much hope & happiness of my own life has been buried with him We may use our best reason 8c submit in Christian duty to the will of Heaven but in the depths of a Mothers' heart, such a grief lives to embitter a lifetime. I have resumed all my household duties, & thank God that He has given me strength to hide my sorrow from the tender heart of my dear Ella who watches me so closely. [B]ut when duty & restraint are no longer binding - in the long still hours of the night - hours sacred to the care of my darling - now lying far away needing no watching - , oh! then does my heart almost break in its loneliness, & I feel that I must call him back to life & to me.60

When she wrote to her father shortly after his departure for Saratoga in May, she told him that he had been a great comfort to her. She was keeping busy and doing housecleaning to fill time and had recovered a certain calmness. "I trust that I look upon my affliction in the right way - & that it will do me good," she added "but at times it seems very hard to give up that dear child."61 A year later, in a letter to her daughter, she wrote that in the event of her death, she wanted Ella to know that she had a brother who died, and who was now an angel in heaven.61 Mary's pain at her loss is clear. Her religious beliefs, however, told her that she should be accepting this loss with resignation, and even that these hardships would do her good. As she was aware, the mourning was not for her child, since he was in heaven - it was for her. The grandparents were also afflicted by this loss. Julie Papineau did not write to her daughter-in-law until three weeks later, having allowed her husband to write instead. She wrote that she had understood Mary's grief and shared in it to the point of becoming ill. "I no longer have the courage or the energy for such tragedies as have so cruelly afflicted us in the last few years." She also worried about Mary's father and suggested that Mary go to Saratoga with him, because he needed her presence and Ella's to get through this ordeal.63 Even in his grief, however, James Westcott was able to think of his friend and fellow mourner, Louis-Joseph Papineau. His letter of sym-

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pathy is a poignant reminder that relatives other than the parents also suffer at the death of a child: What a sad and terrible bereavement we have all sustained in the death of our dear Louis Joseph - from whose future we were all anticipating so much happiness &c comfort. To Madame Papineau & yourself, bearing your name 8c succession, it must in addition to your natural grief for a grandson so promising be a sore disappointment. For myself I cannot yet fully realise that I shall never see his sweet face again nor listen [to] his childish prattle. [I]t seems more like a painful dream. Who can wonder that poor Mary mourns as one not to be comforted for what can equal a Mothers grief & agony for an only son torn so suddenly from her bosom[.]64

Having himself lost a son at the age of twelve, several years earlier,65 he understood what they must be feeling. The grief of the parents and grandparents in this case was not lessened by the fact that Louis-Joseph was only ten months old. Their hopes for that child were dashed by the death. There were few consolations except for the thought that the child who died so young would immediately become an angel in heaven. This brought some comfort to grieving parents and their friends and relatives, and allowed for the possibility of a reunification in another world.

6

Childhood

When Robert Hoyle was away from home, his thoughts often turned to his children. His frequent comments in his letters to his wife, Eliza, on how they should be treated and how they should behave illustrate well the attitudes towards childhood that had become prevalent in the early nineteenth century. As parents searched for alternatives to corporal punishment to instil discipline, they turned to methods such as the withdrawal of affection. Robert Hoyle subscribed to the latter method totally. When his daughter Sarah Ruth was an infant, he offered her unconditional love and affection, sending her a kiss in every letter and referring to her as a pet. His older daughters, Mary and Margaret, were also sent kisses but with restrictions: "Kiss Mary and M. for me every night If as I sincerely hope they do, deserve yr approbation." Henry was sent his love, but no kisses. His father also hoped that Henry would be "entitled to her good opinion."1 As Sarah Ruth got older, Robert reminded Eliza that he "must and [would]" hold her "personally responsible" for treating the child kindly. He told Sarah Ruth that if she loved her father, she would be good and kind to her mother and would try to learn. As a reward, she would be allowed to ride out with him on a gentle horse.2- Having heard the Reverend Wilkes preach that the fear of God should not be like that of a slave but instead the fear of offending a holy God of love, he wrote: "[T]his is the kind of fear I wish you to inculcate in Sarah Ruth, not a dread, or fear of punishment, but fear to offend, those she loves - or ought to Love, God & her kind parents."3 He repeated his injunction later, that Eliza "encourage her, she wants confidence and assurances, guard against having her cowed by any one, win her love and affections, but I charge, not to make her afraid, love, and the best feelings of our nature, should be appealed to; I hope she will obey you, her parents, and her maker, from a higher motive than fear.""

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Robert Hoyle's views on childrearing reflected current Christian thought on the subject that advocated the use of moral influence as a tool of discipline. He stopped short of the Methodist position studied by Gregory Schneider, however, which would have included using the rod when necessary. He also allowed for a greater independence of thought than the Methodists would have done.5 The following passage summarizes his views on corporal and other forms of punishment: Encourage, incite Sarah to learn, but do not give her a lesson, as a task, and then punish her for not getting it, by not allowing her to eat with the rest, or in any other way, for I fear she may become disgusted with her Book; do not scold her or keep reproaching her, much less whip her, or shake her - a common soldier in the french army would feel debased, degraded, with the most triffling corporal punishment ... you are an enemy in theory, to tyranny Sc despotism, and for heavens sake, do not show it in yr government of your dear and only child. Be most careful you do not cow her, or destroy her fine sensibility, her spirit or independence ... but secure Sarah's love and affections, then she will obey with plesure, if not implicitly: - aid her in forming her mind, and in forming her opinion; - her mother enjoys her own opinion, why not?6

Divided opinion as to the use of violence against children surfaced as a difficult issue in the Douglas family. Alexander Douglas's housekeeper, Mrs Bain, had been seen hitting one of the boys for being a few minutes late from school, to the point of drawing blood. She was suspected of being abusive on a frequent basis. When confronted on this issue by his brothers, Alex replied that she had done nothing wrong. Even when his brothers and father said they could not visit him as long as the woman retained her position, he remained unconvinced of the need to send her away. After careful consideration, brother Donald decided to raise the matter with a third brother, William, hoping that he could help them resolve the issue.7 The intervention of family members in this case is of interest because it suggests that they placed the well-being of their nieces and nephews above the privacy of the nuclear family. This may have been easier because the violence originated from someone who was hired to look after the children, not a parent. The inaction on the part of the father is harder to understand, but his situation (his wife was in an asylum in Toronto) may have restricted his options. The influence of Enlightenment thinkers such as Locke and Rousseau had led to the view that children had great potential that had to be nurtured. Since the development of the child was natural, the parent's role was to guide and encourage natural progress and discourage bad habits.8 It was increasingly felt that mothers should supervise the care

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of their infants themselves rather than entrust them to servants or wet nurses: "Unwisely selected servants could teach children bad habits and crude behavior, weaken their mental and moral fiber, and coarsen their character and physical appearance."9 Robert Hoyle must have been exposed to advice literature on this subject, as he wrote to Eliza: "I feel great concern about Sarah. She must not be permitted to be in the kitchen; - she want[s] Society, poor thing, and recreation; try to amuse her, out of the K[itchen] and if possible, get her interested in her books; - do not impose her lessons or work of any kind as a task: as Miss Lyman says in her circular, 'not only impart, but elicit thought;' - help her to make out her sentences & stories, and correct her pronunciation."10 Rather than seeing their children as defective, parents began to blame outside influences for any problems and hence to keep them from contact with the outside world: "It was the parents' duty to protect the happy innocence of their children, and they did so by isolating their offspring from adult society."11 Middle-class families continued to hire nurses to care for their children, but they were warned of the dangers of exposing their offspring to those who were their "social inferiors" and who had "different cultural and religious beliefs."12Thus Sarah Ruth Hoyle was to be kept out of the kitchen where exposure to servants could be harmful to her. Robert Hoyle was also concerned about Sarah Ruth's education. This posed practical problems as there was no school close by and she would have to board in town to attend. This worried her father: if she slept alone, she might throw off her bedclothes and catch cold, but if she slept with an unhealthy person, she might get sick. He hoped the schoolteacher would let her stay with her - but only if she was kind enough.1' In the meantime, Eliza was teaching the child at home. In looking at the nature of childhood in the Canadas in the early nineteenth century, we can expect similarities with the dominant model found in the United States at the same time. But we should also not be surprised to find variations. The ideology of "Republican Motherhood" can hardly be expected to apply, or at least not in those terms. The ideas of the Enlightenment had their impact in the Canadas too, and both American and British immigrants brought their notions of childrearing with them.14 The local press in Upper Canada reprinted American and British advice literature.15 Establishing itself in 1846 as a family newspaper, the Montreal Witness published many articles with a prescriptive content aimed at transmitting advice on childrearing and family values, some of it reprinted from American sources. "A Christian Mother," "On the Duty of Children to their Parents," "Governing by Moral Suasion," "Leading Children to God," and "Traits of Boy-

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hood to Be Watched," are just a few of the articles in 1846 alone that related to childrearing. This weekly circulated widely outside of Montreal, in both Upper and Lower Canada.16 From a variety of sources, then, parents in the Canadas would have been exposed to the newest ideas on childrearing. The affectionate family was also reflected in the art of the period, especially the paintings of Theophile Hamel. His portrait of Mrs Renaud and her children (fig. 6.1) is particularly evocative of the loving mother. With regard to the material aspects of childhood, our sources are almost silent. Young Napoleon Duvernay wanted a drum; Lucy Peel received an Indian rattle as a gift for her daughter; Edmund Antrobus purchased necklaces for his daughters and a toy for "Baby."17 Abraham Joseph made a doll house for his children which "gave much satisfaction."18 Yet the paintings and photographs of the period show children holding a variety of toys. Hamel's delightful portrait of Dominick O'Meara sets him in a natural landscape and shows him with a bow and arrow (fig. 6.2.). He shows his young nephew, Ernest Hamel, holding a horse pull-toy (fig. 6.3). The infrequent references to toys in diaries and letters probably underestimates their presence. An iconographic study for the United States undertaken by Karin Calvert concludes that children were much more likely to be shown with toys after 1830 than before. These were also more gender specific after 1830. Between 1830 and 1870, 80 per cent of girls were shown with dolls. Boys had a greater variety of toys that were used for outdoor sports, were military in nature, or which could be dragged, ridden on or in, pulled or pushed. Although found in only zo per cent of the sample, the pony whip appeared more often than any other type of toy. It was popular, Calvert maintains, because it "succinctly summed up the approved masculine characteristics of physical courage, control, and dominance."19 The trend to more toys in the nineteenth century and to the toys becoming more gender specific would probably hold true for the Canadas as well. Since only elite families had family portraits painted, however, Calvert's study is not necessarily an indication of how common toys had become in the general population. In the colonial period, according to Calvert, there was no strict division between adult and children's games. Tag, blindman's bluff, wrestling, racing, stilt-walking, skittles, hoops, tops, and kites were all common amusements in the middle and southern colonies; "No one deemed it advisable or necessary to shield children from any adult activities."10 In the period from 1750 to 1780, play became more accepted as a natural part of childhood. As a result games became associated with this stage of life, and children were less likely to participate in adult amusements. Reform in children's clothing after 1770 also

Fig. 6.1 Theophile Hamel, Madame Jean-Baptiste Renaud, nee Sophie Lefebvre, et ses filles Wilhelmine et Emma, 1853. Oil on canvas, 115 x 87.2 cm. Collection Musee du Quebec, no. 53.169 (photographer, Patrick Altman).

Fig. 6.2, Theophile Hamel, Dotninick Daly O'Meara, c. 1847. National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa, no. 30760.

Fig. 6.3 Theophile Hamel, Ernest Hamel, neveu de 1'artiste, 1854. Oil on canvas, 7Z.3 x 64.3 cm. Collection Musee du Quebec, no. 55-694 (photographer, Patrick Altman).

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facilitated play and games: "Society had created and defined childhood as a separate stage of development, with its own needs and virtues, and provided it with its own activities. Play and toys became the province of childhood. Young people now engaged in socially defined and approved children's games, while adults pursued other forms of recreation. Children no longer gambled at cards, and adults stopped playing hunt-the-bean. The generations increasingly inhabited different worlds."21 The family papers studied here make only a few references to children's games. Ann Wrong, as a teacher, spent much of her time observing children, but her diary mentions their play only once. She thought the children were enjoying a game called "Snap and Catch" very much and concluded, "it is good exercise for anyone that has been confined for any length of time."22 Edmund William Romer Antrobus's diary contains references to his children when they accompanied him on a drive, a walk, or calling, and when they were ill. Occasionally he mentions spending time with one child specifically, as in the following: "Tilly & I eat some oysters after having played two games of Cassino together - To bed at iz." i3 They played again on 14 November in spite of Tilly having a cough. In both these references to games, the activity does not seem specific to children. It is difficult to know if the silence of our sources on this topic suggests that games were so common that they were not worthy of notice, or if they were seldom engaged in. In his study of consumer trends in Lower Canada, David-Thiery Ruddel found that items of leisure were found only in the inventories of merchants and professionals. He mentions "card tables ... pianos, backgammon sets, microscopes, camera obscura, magic lanterns and reading material."24 He does not refer to any toys specifically for children. Like children's clothing, these may well have been excluded from inventories. Furthermore, many children's games did not require any special artifacts that would be recorded in inventories. Their absence from the sources does not necessarily mean that they were not present. Children's dress is again little discussed in the sources beyond the problems of the Duvernays and Moodies in dressing children adequately. However, Louise Gagnon's study of children's dress in Lower Canada demonstrates the rapid dissemination of English fashions and trends in the colony. She found little difference in children's dress among the bourgeoisie based on ethnic considerations. Popular children's dress was more difficult to document, since their clothing was seldom mentioned in inventories after death. The paintings of Cornelius Krieghoff at mid-century are one of the few iconographic sources available. According to eyewitnesses, however, peasant dress

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varied little and was generally resistant to the influences of fashion. Until they were three or four, boys and girls were dressed the same. We can see this in Theophile Hamel's paintings of his nieces and nephews (figs. 6.3, 6.4, and 6.8) and in Notman's portrait of Master Esdaile (fig. 6.5). When they were older, boys acquired their own costume (figs. 6.6 and 6.6). According to Gagnon, the bourgeoisie dressed boys in costumes that remained distinctive from those of men. In the popular classes, however, young boys were not prohibited from wearing adult dress, just as they were also frequently observed smoking a pipe even as young as three years old. Young girls were dressed much like their mothers, but Gagnon points out that, unlike women, they could wear shorter dresses (with trousers underneath), short sleeves, and low necklines (fig. 1o.11). This attested to their innocence. We can see this costume in the portrait of Miss Lyman (fig. 6.7). In bourgeois circles, children's innocence was increasingly protected after 1830. Gagnon agrees with Thornstein Veblen that the dress of bourgeois women and girls and boys was a visual code of their social position and their economic dependence on men.25 The few references to pets that occur in the letters and diaries examined here are most frequently to dogs. They were present in both the Moodie and the Papineau households (see pp. 143,160). The paintings of the period certainly suggest that many families kept dogs. (See, for example, figs. lo.2, 10.7, and 10.9.) The association of dogs with children is found in only a few portraits, but this may reflect the additional cost of including them. In William Berczy's famous painting The Woolsey Family, for example, the dog, "a magnificent Labrador," was added free. He is held by William Henry Woolsey, who was six at the time of painting.26 Hamel shows his nephews playing with a puppy (fig. 6.8). By mid-century, keeping pet dogs seems to have become a fashion for young ladies as well - one commented upon unfavourably by Abraham Joseph.27 The portraits from William Notman's studio in this period include one of a young lady with her dog.28 If many childhood activities went largely unnoticed in the letters of parents, what did they say about their children? The letters of Reine Duvernay and her sister Marguerite29 to Ludger Duvernay and, to a lesser extent, those of Susanna Moodie to her husband are filled with references to their children. Both mothers were left to cope with the care of their family for an extended period of time, without the help of a husband. Both had a newborn and several young children during the period of their correspondence after the Rebellions. Not surprisingly, their letters tried to describe for their husbands some aspects of the personality and growth of the children they were separated from. We turn to these now.

Fig. 6.4 Theophile Hamel, Noemie, Eugenie, Antoinette et Sephora Hamel, nieces de I'artiste, 1854. Oil on canvas, 74 x 96.8 cm. Collection Musee du Quebec, no. 76.370 (photographer, Patrick Altman).

Fig. 6.5 William Notman, Master Prescott Esdaile, 1861. Notman Photographic Archives, i-zi9i, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal.

Fig. 6.6 William Notman, Master William McFarlane Notman, Montreal, QC, 1867. Notman Photographic Archives, 1-27091.1, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal.

Fig. 6.7 William Notman, Miss Susannah Lyman, Montreal, QC. Notman Photographic Archives, 1-6852., McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal.

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Fig. 6.8 Theophile Hamel, Adolphe, Auguste, Eugene et Alpbonse Hamel, neveux de I'artiste, 1847. Oil on canvas, 63.3 x 84.2 cm. Collection Musee du Quebec, no. 67.05 (photographer, Patrick Altman).

The Moodie Family The affection of both Susanna and John Moodie for their children is very clear from their letters. John referred to them as his "dear brats." In most letters, the children send their love or kisses to their "Papa."3° If John expressed his affection more directly than Susanna, it was because he was the one who, being separated from them, was dependent on his correspondence to give them that assurance. In an early letter he asked Susanna to write so that he could hear all about his babes. He felt guilty that he was living in comparative luxury while they were surviving on "poor fare." His affection was not blind, however, and he also expressed concern about their behaviour. He hoped they were "attending to their books" and expected to find a "great improvement" when he returned. He added: "Remember me to good Jenny [servant] and tell her not to spoil the little lamb Donald, my own sweet boy."}1 Most of his letters showed this combination of love and expectation of good behaviour. Kisses for Katie, Aggy, Dunny, and Donald were combined with urgings "to be good children and Papa will love them more and more."3z Like many parents in this period, he used love as a form of discipline:

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Kiss my dearest brats for me and tell them I never forget them. I hope Dunbar has been a good boy and obedient to you in all things. Tell him I cannot love him if he is not obedient to you and does not love you and his sisters and little brothers. I am sure my own dear Katie is a good girl and Agnes is the same. God bless them all and keep them from harm. I suppose they will hardly know me when I come back at least Donald and master Johny will be considerably puzzled for a while.33

Hearing about illness in the family made the separation even worse for him, and as he wrote in a short note in March 1839, he was worried to the point of being unable to sleep.34 Parental affection did not mean coddling. The older children were expected to be useful. When a neighbour, Mrs Caddy, was sick, Katie helped to fetch medicine and let the woman stay in her sick room. Wrote Susanna, "Katie is very proud of being little nurse. It will be a useful moral lesson to the child who I wish to consider kindness to the sick as an imperative duty."35 Although sending children away from home at an early age was decreasing in this period, some of the Moodie children spent a considerable amount of time in the care of neighbours. Donald was fond of George Godard, a neighbour working on the farm for them that winter, and called him "brother George." He "goes to see him often," wrote Susanna.36 Aggy was taken away by a neighbour, Mrs Hague, when Susanna was ill and settled into their family with little concern for coming home. She was obviously treated well there; Mrs Hague dressed her and taught her to read and work. She was even sent over with a gift of new shoes for Katie.37 When Susanna sent her servant to get Aggy, Jenny returned empty-handed with a message that Mrs Hague would send her home "when she tires of her." Although Susanna seemed to miss her daughter, she felt that it was to Aggy's advantage to let her stay since Mrs Hague took such pains to teach her.38 Aggy came home for a short time in April,39 but she was back with Mrs Hague in May. Mrs Hague thought she was a "good child" and was upset that they might leave for Belleville. She had bought Aggy another "frock" in Cobourg and Aggy had learned "to sew beautifully and to behave so well."40 Four-year-old Dunbar also managed to find a home away from home. His mother portrayed him as being at Colonel Caddy's "as fat, and as happy as a prince."41 His fondness for Mrs Caddy was almost a passion, Susanna wrote. He was always there. He slept with her. She was kind to him, calling him "her wee pet."41 When he came home, Susanna reported, he had acquired a new habit as well as having grown. He now used the expression "live saw log" as a term of

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wrath.43 He was also beginning to try to capitalize on his position as the eldest boy in the family, but his mother countered this by telling him that being older meant only that he should be kind to the younger ones. She worried about the "jealousy of disposition" and the irritable temper she now saw in him. He was admittedly handsome, "but he is getting very proud and imperious and wants a father's authority to keep him down."44 This exchange indicates that as parents the Moodies were very concerned with the character their children were developing, not just their physical care. Except for Katie, who was left to assist a sick neighbour, these children were too young to be exchanged for the purposes of helping out. The neighbours they stayed with welcomed them out of affection and kept them as a way to help Susanna at a difficult time. (The network of mutual assistance that linked her to her neighbours is discussed in more detail in chapter n.) The youngest Moodie children must have changed considerably while John Moodie was away but Susanna mentioned only a few incidents relating to them. Donald, who still did not talk well, kept saying he was "going to 'Bellwill' to see Papa."45 She also reported how pleased he was to be taken out of the dresses worn by all children and put in trousers.46 We do not know if keeping pets was a common aspect of childhood in the nineteenth century. The Moodie children, however, had a dog. Rover, a fine cattle dog given to the family as a present, was not necessarily for the children,47 but later, when they got another dog, Katie wanted it for herself and called it "Fidler."48 The Duvernay Family After Ludger Duvernay went into exile in 1837, he remained separated from his family for two years. During this time he received letters regularly from his wife, Reine, and his sister-in-law Marguerite (see chapter 4). From this correspondence it is clear that his children felt the separation acutely. Continuously assured that it would end shortly, they never had a chance to resign themselves to a long separation. Their father was never far from their thoughts. His letters were read to the whole family when they were received, and some letters to him were read to the children before being sent. He was daily in their prayers. Living in constant anticipation of reunification may have made the separation even more stressful. It is thus not surprising that some of the children would act out their resentment over their father's absence. This was particularly true of Napoleon, whose behaviour bordered on problematic. As the chil-

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dren's actions were reported to their father on an ongoing basis, we are able to see which of these behaviours were considered noteworthy. The oldest girl, Josephine, was quieter than the others about missing her father but she said that she missed him every day and that his absence was a long one. Celina coped by talking of him often. Adele, even though she was just beginning to talk, did so as well: "She calls you every instant - all of this shows us the pain of being separated from you - we hope providence will reunite us," wrote Marguerite.49 In February the children were "lonesome but reasonable," although Napoleon was saying to everyone "it is tiresome to be so long without seeing 'papa.'" By the end of February small behaviours were beginning to indicate the children's feelings. Adele had her father's small scissors and wouldn't let anyone else touch them, saying they were his and kissing them. Napoleon wanted to leave Riviere du Loup and go back to Montreal. When it was explained to him that his father was not there but in the United States, his response was that he would "go there and shake you by the neck like to choke you and tell you you have to come back to see maman - who cries every day." The boy made statements like this every day: "It is terrible how much he misses you."50 In January the three older children had been placed in the school of Mile Harkin. This worked well for the girls, but Napoleon, although he liked school, was disruptive. He responded to Miss Harkin's attempts to make him do penance with a statement that his father would have to as well. These problems must have escalated, for in March he was instead placed in Mr Caisse's school, "because he did not fear Miss Harkin at all."51 Things finally improved when he made friends with a Mr Lami, who took him for rides every day.51 As plans were made for Reine to go to meet her husband in Burlington, she decided she would take Napoleon with her. As she explained: "I have to bring my dear boy who wants so much to see you, he is a little sorcerer I don't know what to do with him but I assure you [there is] always an appropriate answer that he gives us."53 After this, Napoleon could talk of nothing but his trip, which must have been hard on his sisters, although there is no record of complaints on their part. The trip did not make things easier for Napoleon, however. Upon his return he missed his father even more and wanted to go back.54 Upon her return, Reine wrote: "Adele is very strange she scolded me and her little brother for not bringing you back, she cried all afternoon she showed us how she would have held you tight in her arms I assure you she does not lack spirit."55 Napoleon's behaviour over the remaining period went in waves. For a time he hardly talked at all and was sick. He went through a phase

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of being very difficult (tanant), wanting to return to his father and finding all kinds of reasons to avoid going to school. But then he arrived home with a note (billet) from his teacher for being first in his class and wanted to send it to his father. No doubt exasperated by his behaviour and knowing that he listened to the letters from Ludger, his aunt told him his father would not come if he was bad. He cried, begging them not to put that in the letter, and "promised to be good."56 But despite this example, using the withdrawal of affection as a method of discipline seems to have been rare in this family. When Ludger was going to New York, Napoleon wanted to know what he would bring him back and insisted that his father should bring it to him personally or he would have to go get it. One morning he looked at himself in the mirror and said he was sick because he was pale and changed. His mannerisms were so much like his father's that his mother both "laughed and cried to see him."57 He was starting to be grown up in some ways, but he was also still a boy. When he saw his aunt and mother crying, he started crying himself.58 He continued to talk constantly of his father and caressed the small box Ludger had sent him.59 As time went on, these behaviours by all the children continued, but those by Napoleon were reported more often: "Napoleon says he prays God for his dear Papa and the others too"; "Napoleon has kissed your letter at least 20 times"; and "Napoleon still talks of you."60 And when the likelihood of their being together again seemed imminent, the children were all joyful, but Napoleon was so happy he was "like mad."61 The longing to be with his father affected Napoleon's attitude toward his mother. She wrote to her husband that the boy was so anxious to be with him that he told her often that she was mean. "He told me the other day I hope that when you will be with Papa you won't dare scold me I assure you he is very rustic and a joker."62 The waiting began to weigh on them again as spring came and they still did not leave. Napoleon's behaviour began to deteriorate: "Napoleon is still mean but he wants to see his dear Papa." In his aunt's view a father's firm hand was needed: "I am anxious that you discipline him."63 By July the stress was getting to all the children, according to Marguerite: "Napoleon is still a bit mean and he always talks of you[;] Josephine woke up the other day crying that she was dreaming that she was arriving in Burlington and that you were about to hug her ... Celina is still mean and Adele not much behind." 64 Finally, even little Denis, who was just learning to talk and could not have remembered his father, got into the act. Near the end of their stay in Riviere du Loup, he had learned his first word, "papa." He began saying it over and over, since it was the only word he could say.65

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Without moving into the realm of psychohistory, it seems safe to conclude that these many little actions and behaviours, and even the more serious ones of Napoleon, reflected the emotional need of these children for their father. For Napoleon the absence of a male role model was an issue, since his behaviour improved under a male teacher and once he made a male friend. Life without their father was not normal for these children. The gap left by his absence suggests that when they were together, he played an active role in their lives. Fortunately, Ludger Duvernay was a very good correspondent, and his family seems to have received a letter almost every week. Although his faithful letter writing could not replace him, it nonetheless indicates his strong concern for their well-being. A two-year separation is a long time in the lives of children, and this meant that Ludger Duvernay missed much of their growing up. Adele's first efforts at talking and baby Denis's first steps, first words, and first teeth all occurred while he was gone.66 He missed seeing his oldest daughter begin to help around the house, practise her piano, and later do her share of the embroidery work that supplemented their meagre resources.67 The descriptions of his children's progress provided for him indicate that these were given some importance, but little detail was supplied. "Adele is very fat and funny, she sings all the tunes as well as us." "[I]t is with pleasure that I inform you that our dear little Denis is walking since 3 weeks." "Adele is charming and Denis is good now that he is walking he is the picture of uncle Robert." "Denis is very well he is big and fat and very pretty he is so good at present that we love him very much."68 The older girls' progress in the area of female accomplishments was also duly noted. "Josephine ... embroiders very well for the time [since] she learned;" "Josephine ... will be very happy to continue the piano when she is there;" "Celina wishes me to tell you that she has started embroidering in bark and that she will do her best to learn."69 The acquisition of these skills was considered very important. Marguerite was concerned that she could not get piano lessons for Josephine and hoped that she could be placed in the convent for a few months to learn.70 The few descriptions of the children's behaviour given in any detail related to mannerisms and personality. The incident with Napoleon in front of the mirror, already noted, is one of these. A visit by Reine and the children to see Mrs Garceau is also related at length. They spent the afternoon, and Mrs Garceau was happy to see them. Reine had not seen her since her husband died. Mrs Garceau talked to Napoleon about Ludger and said that he had his father's character. "When she gave him some preserves, he must have thought there were not enough;

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he told her it was "not worth it," and she "was unable to stop herself from laughing and saying that it reminded her of when you were there often and you were not shy."71 This was immediately followed by the description of another incident in which Napoleon was joking around: "Napoleon is really a jokerf;] this morning [when] the priests were confessing the little children ... he began pacing in the vestry, his hands behind his back, they all started laughing to see him."72 First steps and first words were not unimportant, therefore, but developing a personality and taking on family characteristics were of greater significance and interest. It is hard not to be touched by these accounts of children coping without the familiar presence of their father. The similarities between the situations of Susanna Moodie and Reine Duvernay are striking, despite differing cultural and political backgrounds. The evidence is clear that parents in this period paid considerable attention to the phases of development of their children and took pleasure in seeing them grow. While family characteristics made them even more endearing to their parents, they were seen as individuals, with distinctive personalities. They were raised according to the gender norms of the time, with girls learning housekeeping skills and accomplishments from which boys were exempted. Although in these cases the fathers were absent for a period, there is every indication that each man had great affection for his children and when he was home played an active role in their rearing.

7

Childhood Accidents, Illness, and Death Children in every era are prone to minor accidents, bumps and bruises, and diseases. In the early nineteenth century, however, the defences against childhood illnesses such as diphtheria, whooping cough, polio, and scarlet fever were much less effective than they are now. At times disease seemed to run rampant through an area, for reasons that were not clear. The mortality rates for children under sixteen therefore remained high, although it was much lower than infant mortality.1 This was also the period when Canada was first devastated by cholera and typhus epidemics, especially those of 1832, 1834, 1847, and 1854. The leading cause of death throughout the late nineteenth century in Toronto, however, was tuberculosis. For all of these reasons, the mean age at death for those over five was only 40.3 in 1868.i The high incidence of childhood deaths did not reduce parents' affection for their children.3 It did, however, increase their concern over their children's health, especially during periods of separation. Although bumps and bruises did not get much notice in diaries and correspondence, more serious accidents, toothaches, and childhood diseases did. Contagious diseases like scarlet fever were particularly dreaded because they were often fatal. Although most families seem to have had recourse to medical aid, they clearly lived with both the possibility and the reality of losing children before adulthood. Not surprisingly, many diaries and the correspondence of individuals with young children, especially letters to absent fathers, made frequent mention of these problems. Whereas fathers separated from their families had no choice but to let their wives deal with sickness, serious illness was often the occasion for setting aside gender divisions of labour, and fathers who were home often took part in caring for their sick children. Stephen Frank also found this to be the case in the American North: "Work commitments notwithstanding, fathers were expected to rise to the occasion during

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a family health crisis and rally to their children's sides. The attention that men devoted to children who were gravely ill reflects an intermittent but persistent and deeply felt aspect of fatherly care beyond breadwinning."4 Abraham Joseph For a diarist like Abraham Joseph, an increase in detail usually signalled concern and the importance of the event he was writing about. In his diary only the most serious illnesses are mentioned. For two of his children this was when, at the age of five months, they went into a series of short convulsions. The first time this happened was in 1848: "Our dear infant had a serious illness on 6th Feby - she had 14 convulsions in little more than twice the number of hours I did not undress or get into a bed for 3 days & 3 nights - she has now thank God quite recovered & is herself again." A few pages later he added a list of her convulsions and gave the exact time for each one.5 On 2.8 February 1852 the same problem occurred with his son. Little Montefiore had over thirty convulsions in the next few days, the exact time of each one carefully noted in his father's diary. Two doctors were present but seemed unable to do anything for the child and both pronounced him "dead."6 Yet the little boy survived against the odds. Although Abraham does not reflect on his feelings around these illnesses, his behaviour speaks for him. He was clearly prepared to do all he could to have them live. He was a constant attendant at his children's side while they were ill. He called not one but two doctors, and his careful notation of the time and duration of convulsions was probably designed to assist their diagnosis and treatment. As he and his wife, Sophia, had thirteen children, one of whom died as an infant, they must have faced many other illnesses in the process of raising them. (They are shown with ten of their children in fig. 7.1.) The Douglas Family Although not life-threatening, teething could be a trying phase for both parents and children because there was little that could be done to relieve the pain. When Georgie Douglas was cutting his second eyetooth, he screamed constantly, keeping his mother awake at night but unable to help him.7 Scarlet fever was one of the most feared of childhood diseases because it was so often fatal. Alexander Douglas lost his son George Henry to scarlet fever in 1857, but in this case, it had been preceded

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Fig. 7.1 Abraham Joseph, his wife Sophia (nee David), and ten of their children, c. 1863. NAC pA-zio8i3, copy print from the Henry Joseph Family Collection.

by whooping cough and complicated by mumps.8 Scarlet fever would strike Alexander's family at least twice more in the following year. In a letter to William and Jane in 1863, John Douglas thought that perhaps they were avoiding a visit because of the illness. He did not blame them, because it was such a dreadful disease for children, but he assured them that it was all over.9 However, in 1864 his children were again sick with it, and little Johnny would die from it after much suffering. There had been two other deaths in the area as well, as Donald reported to William.10 Measles, another common childhood disease, was also known to be contagious and that exposure to children with it should be avoided. However, when houses were small and children slept in the same room, if not the same bed, that must have been difficult to achieve. When John Douglas's children got "that despret desese," he had four children ill with it at once: one very sick, one almost over it, and two just starting. The fifth child was not showing the disease, but he assumed that he would get it too.11 When little Walter Douglas became ill with measles on the way home to Iowa after a visit to his cousins in Percy Township,11 his uncle was a little surprised to hear of it, because none of the children in the area had it.13 Donald Douglas's daughter Isabelle fell victim to a rarer illness. Having survived early childhood diseases, she had always been in delicate health, but in May 1862, at age fourteen, she became seriously ill with

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what was called "Belles Intermiting Fever."14 She could not stand unassisted and the doctor consulted thought she had "enflamatory rumatism." She regained her health a little, but in December she and the other children in the family got the measles, and she recovered only slowly.15 By February she was sick again and down in spirits. She wanted to write to her Uncle William to send the knife he had promised, but couldn't.16 She continued to decline despite a special trip to bring her to a doctor in Cobourg who said that she was in "Consinition." She could no longer get out of bed and could scarcely eat anything.17 She looked forward to a visit from her uncle, however, and asked for a new dress for when he came. Her parents were aware that Isabelle was dying, although she herself seemed not to know it. Trying to satisfy his dying daughter's wishes, her father added a note to his letter to William the following day: "this morning Isy is very low her bowel complaint is very bad write her at once."18 Isabelle's father's letters do not mention the extra work or problems caused by having a fifteen-year-old daughter bedridden and ill rather than helping with family chores. They express only his concern and fear for her life. It is from his brother John that we learn that Donald provided much of her care, since when she was at her worst, she would not allow him out of the room. Despite running sores on her neck and being unable to eat anything but a little milk, she clung to life.19 She died a short time later. Her death took a heavy toll on her father. It led to health problems sounding like depression, which he sought help for in Kingston from Dr Dixen, a professor of Queen's College, and from several other doctors. They agreed that he should keep quiet and not work, and should keep his mind at ease, choosing cheerful company. Donald tried to follow their advice, but as he wrote to his brother, "sometimes the thought of my dear Isabelle comes into my mind and I feel it very hard."i0 The Moodie Family Susanna Moodie's letters seldom referred to accidents suffered by her children. The exception is when young Donald Moodie got a serious gash above his right eye from falling on the stove. Susanna sent Jenny for help and in the meantime she managed to get the bleeding to stop. The cut was so deep that she could see the bone. She bound it up and later her brother and brother-in-law came to dress the wound, which then had to be poulticed several times. It healed well but left an ugly scar. In cases such as this, with no doctor close enough to send for, Susanna had no choice but to deal with the problem herself, at least temporarily.21

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In the spring of 1839 a bad outbreak of influenza hit the area where the Moodies were living, and several children died from it. The Moodies were more fortunate, but they had a close brush with death. Susanna's description of how this illness affected them and how the household and the neighbours responded is detailed and gives us excellent insight into home treatment as well as the important role played by the community at a time of crisis. Donald was the first to become sick. He had an "inflamation on the lungs, attended with violent fever and every sympton of croup." As treatment Susanna gave him a warm bath and castor oil and applied a "large blister" to his chest. He cried for her to take the "pins out of his belly." The Traills came to assist and it was decided to send Thomas Traill to get the doctor, or advice, if he could not come. That night the baby also fell ill, so violently that he appeared to be dead: "His jaws were relaxed the foam was running from his mouth and my lovely dear's beautiful limbs fell over my arms a dead weight." A weeping Susanna gave him to Katie to hold and rushed to call Jenny from the sugar bush. A neighbour, Cyprian Godard, ran for the doctor. Seeing Mrs Strickland and Catherine "who was at tea at Crawfords" on the way by, he sent them to help. The women put the baby in a warm bath, and after a long time he began to show signs of life. They did all they could, Susanna wrote: "we put on a blister, on his white tender chest and forced some tartar emetic down his throat and put hot flannels to his cold feet." Meanwhile their messenger met Traill coming back with medicine for Donald, and also encountered Mrs Shairp, who insisted on coming to help with the nursing. "Oh what a comfort this warm hearted friend was to me in my dire distress for though she could not stop my streaming tears, she helped me nurse my poor suffering children, and shared my grief," Susanna wrote. Cyprian Godard did not return until 4 A.M., with the message that the doctor would not come, but that he would send another (Dr Dixon) in the morning. The next day the weather was bad with drifting snow and Dr Dixon did not appear. Goddard was sent to get the first doctor again, but he (Dr H.) refused to come because the roads were too bad to leave Peterborough. Goddard then went to old Dr Bird who, despite his age, came as a service to John Moodie. He told Susanna that the child would have died without medical aid. By then, Donald was out of danger but Susanna had come down with influenza herself. In her worry over the children, she had not noticed it. Although the worst was over, the baby still required someone to sit up with him at night, and the next day Susanna thought they would have to get the doctor again, or advice." About two weeks later she was able to write that the children were out

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of danger, and Donald was back to playing outside, despite his lack of proper shoes.13 At least four families known to Susanna lost a child in this outbreak, as did others as well. The danger to her own children was real, and her fear that they might die not unfounded. She gratefully acknowledged: "Oh how thankful ought we to be, that he who smote, in mercy has deigned to spare."14 She survived her own illness and that of her children largely because of the help of her neighbours, both her own relatives and others. (See also chapter n.) Her account of their illness ended by noting that Aggy was with Mrs Hague and Dunbar at "Mamma Caddy's." These neighbours had obviously come to get the younger children and were looking after them while the others were sick. Katie, the eldest, had stayed behind at home to. help.15 The Duvernay Family At the beginning of 1838 only three of the Duvernay children were old enough to go to school: Josephine, Celina, and Napoleon, then probably ten to six years of age. Young Adele, just beginning to talk, must have been two or three. The baby, Denis, was only six to eight months old and could not walk. Since an average of two letters a month have been preserved, and there are letters for every month, it seems likely that they contain a fairly complete record of the children's illnesses. A close examination of all the references to illness should therefore provide us with a good indication of how often families might have to cope with illness.16 In all, twenty-six separate instances of illnesses were noted. The two boys were each sick eight times. The two younger girls were sick three times each and Josephine four times. With the exception of a serious episode of whooping cough which struck all the children in August and September of 1838, none of the older children was seriously ill. It was little Denis's illnesses that caused the most concern. The baby had been "sick continually" in January 1838 and was not well again until March. He was very sick in April and again in May. Although he was better through most of the summer, in the fall he caught whooping cough along with all his siblings. He was very sick from it and choked when he coughed, sometimes for three or four minutes. In the middle of September, he again became sick, and this time the doctor feared for his life. Marguerite Harnois explained to Ludger Duvernay that Denis had been sick for the last four days and that on the Saturday night the doctor had no hope for his recovery. Although he was now better, the doctor had explained that he had "water in the head" and that there was no

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I/I

cure. What hurt them the most was that he was suffering. She also worried because she knew how attached her sister was to the child. Denis required a lot of attention as he would not stay lying down and someone always had to hold him. Even in the face of the evidence she felt they should not get discouraged and should leave matters in God's hands. Denis had been really sick once before and he might yet survive. She added that both the doctor and his wife had been very kind to them and that the doctor visited them almost every day since Denis had been sick.17 Denis did not die, and by October he was much better. But the following spring he had an inflammation of the intestines that lasted over fifteen days. Though he suffered terribly, somehow he survived. At the end of May he was sick again, this time from his teeth coming in. In September and October he had a recurrence of his former illness in the head.28 We know that in this period infant mortality was very high, but these frequent brushes with death remind us that even the parents of infants who survived their first year must have frequently feared for the life of their child in the dangerous years to come. Napoleon, who was also often unwell, may have suffered from worms. He was treated for them in April 1838, but the possibility that he was still suffering from them was noted again in the spring of 1839. His thinness was often referred to, and this was the cause of some concern. As well as his bout of whooping cough, he was sick for five days in October 1838 and for fifteen days in January i839-19 Of all the children, he seems to have been the one most disturbed by his father's absence, and this added stress may have affected his health. At one point he also developed a toothache serious enough for the doctor to be called in to pull the tooth. Napoleon was "good like an adult," although the doctor was surprised by the size of the tooth and took two tries to get it out. A few days later Napoleon was still in pain, his jaws inflamed. 30 He would suffer from toothaches again the following spring and summer.31 Young Adele was clearly a healthy child. Other than two references to her having been sick, her only serious illness was the whooping cough. This she suffered from very severely, however, the most affected of all the children. She had to be watched closely, especially at night, because she choked every time she coughed and had nosebleeds.32 There is no reference to the doctor being called on this occasion, but both her mother and her aunt spent many sleepless nights as they watched over a houseful of sick children. Celina presumably had whooping cough along with the others, but is not referred to by name in the letters of this period of illness. There are only two other references to her being unwell, once in April 1838 and again in November 1839.33

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Josephine, the eldest daughter, was also healthy. In the spring of 1838, however, she suffered from some pain which apparently recurrred every spring and she was expected to outgrow. In June 1838, she may have reached the age of menarche, since when she was "not well," this was said to be because of her age. If she also had whooping cough, she suffered from it less than the others. It was not until a year later that she is referred to as being unwell again, this time with a bad headache that lasted for over a month.34 Although these children were probably no more prone to illness than most, hardly a month went by without at least one of them needing special attention because of illness. When we consider that their mother too was often sick, these illnesses must have been particularly hard on Aunt Marguerite (herself prone to suffer from toothache and rheumatism) who nursed them. In most of the illnesses referred to, there was no specific diagnosis and a doctor was not called in. In most cases, nursing care was all that was required. This could be a lot of work, especially if there was just one adult to do it. After her short trip away, for example, Reine returned to find Marguerite unwell, "tired from the two children Adele and Denis who were so sick in my absence."35 Home remedies are not referred to, but medicine was obtained from a pharmacist, Mr Trudeau, in Montreal on occasion.36 However, despite their difficult circumstances, the Duvernay family seemed willing to get medical attention for anything out of the usual. The diagnoses they received sometimes sound very vague and nonscientific to the modern ear. After seeing Napoleon for his worms, for example, the doctor was reported as saying that it was "the humours and the winds that change him like that."37 The children all survived during this period, but the Duvernays lost their young son, Franklin, born later in the United States. When Ludger's friend Joseph Poirier wrote to express his sorrow at this loss, his attitude was one of resignation and a belief in divine providence even at such times.38 Because Reine and Ludger Duvernay were no longer separated, we do not know how they reacted to this death. Like many other parents, they must have accepted this as the will of providence. Nor, sadly, was this their only loss. Of the nine children born to this marriage, only five lived to be adults.39

8

Parent-Child Relationships

Childhood for most children in the early nineteenth century ended when they began to work and take on adult responsibilities, often while still very young. Only for the middle class was early childhood followed by an extended period of dependence we now call adolescence. This new phase was associated with the middle class's desire for a better education. In the early nineteenth century children might leave home at a very early age to go into service or to board out as apprentices. As the century progressed, however, more children stayed home longer, even after they began to work. Because of the late age at marriage, this meant that many families included young adults for a number of years. This situation could lead to stress in families, as young adults often challenged patriarchal authority. Young men were more likely than young women to move away before they were married, unless the latter went into service. Middleclass young women had few work opportunities except for teaching. In all but the most affluent families, these young adults worked to contribute to the family economy or to save money to establish themselves. Once children married and established their separate households, their relationship with their parents changed. It was generally accepted that from this point forward parents should no longer attempt to govern their children or interfere in their lives. An exception could create problems between the new spouse and the parents. However, where children and parents continued to live close to one another, contact could remain frequent; parents might well continue to help their married children, but on the basis of reciprocity and as part of their kinship network. In other cases children moved away, and their contact with parents and siblings became much less frequent. Yet many parents still remained concerned for their absent children: Margaret Hedden, for example, after years without contact with her son, urged him to be virtuous and to avoid vice and be prepared for death.1 The situation

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could change again later in life when a widowed parent moved into the household of an adult child. The correspondence of parents to and from their children allows us to explore the wide range of possible relationships between adult children and their parents. PARENTS AND YOUNG ADULT CHILDREN

In a letter to her son Ludger, Mme Duvernay agreed with him that his brother was "indiscreet," and added that he "was capable of taking away up to our last bite."1 This reminds us that young adults could often be a stressful presence in the family circle. This was seen as a particularly dangerous time for young men who without the proper moral influence could easily be led into dangerous habits such as drinking or gambling.3 Most young adults caused their parents some concern, even when their behaviour was less troubling than young Duvernay's. Marcus Child, who when he was away from home depended heavily on his son George to look after his store, was also a concerned parent. In a letter to his wife, Lydia, he expressed his hopes for his son and asked that she talk to him, pointing out that if he merited it, he would be well rewarded for his efforts: I hope George will prove a good boy and faithfully attend to business till I come; - he will not have reason to regret doing so. - If he pleases me, it is in my power to do infinitely more for his good in this world, than - he can expect from any other source. And if he faithfully adheres to me, and my interest, he insures to himself what no other Boy in S- can lay claim too. I wish George to feel the privileges that are brought within his reach, and if he does, he will not fail to enjoy that place in the world, that the probity [?] and virtue of his parents have provided for him. Talk to him upon these things more at large and you will insure your own and my happiness as well as his.4

Robert Hoyle had similar expectations of his son, Henry. When Robert first left for Quebec in 1831, Henry was nineteen. He still attended school, but he was also expected to take on many of the responsibilities of the farm and to look after Hoyle's store and other business matters under the supervision of his stepmother, Eliza. However, after his father left, Henry began drinking with older men rather than going to school.5 Since his father was adamantly opposed to intemperance, this caused a rift and Henry left home rather than face Robert's displeasure first hand. In one subsequent letter Robert indicated his wish to be remembered to Henry if either Mary or Margaret wrote to their brother. "Who know[s]," he added, "but new circum-

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stances may produce a change for the better. They undoubtedly will if blessed by God."* Contact was not severed immediately, for he received a few lines from Henry in 1834, but thereafter, references to Henry disappear from the correspondence. Unable or unwilling to behave as his father expected, Henry chose to distance himself from his family. Eliza Hoyle wrote what she believed might be her last letter to her stepson in 1835. Being in poor health, she was afraid that she might die. This letter was therefore an attempt at reconciliation and expressed the family's willingness to forgive the prodigal son and to take him back. This remained conditional, however, on improvements in his behaviour. She wrote: I should probably have commenced it with Dear Henry under the impression you were pursuing a different course, which would have ordered you Dear to us all, but I will not deceive you by uttering a language which my heart does not feel. You can never be Dear to any one while you indulge in vicious and indolent habits ... Be assured you are mistaken, there is no Lot Doom or Fate which prevents your being all you should be. A useful Member of Society; but, your own perverse Will, I do not say that you could be all you or your friends could wish you at once: but, resolve to exercise the Tallents which God has given you and ask His assistance to direct you, in sincerity and you May and Will be respected and beloved, no matter what your calling is. ... [Y]ou have had every encouragement to be good and happy by the promise of reward and assistance as far as your Father's circumstances would permit and every indulgence which your own careless and bad habits would allow ... [Y]ou seem to think - Henry that there is partiality shown towards [your sisters] - You are mistaken. True, they are more pleasantly situated than you are but it is because they have been willing to listen to the advice of their parents, and exert themselves to be useful and happy ... I have known boys from fifteen to zi in respectable situations too, give more than half their wages to their Father - and those Fathers had never expended one half on them, that your has on you ...You are now a man zz years of age, only one year younger than your Father was when he left home and friends and came to America and had you the same Self Command you might yet regain your own Self esteem - and - that of the world. - But it must be by Self Command, and Self exertion, only as it would be useless to - depend on your Father or any other means, but the blessing of Providence, and I will now ask you, if you think, that your Father at his age with his present debts incurred partly for your support, ought to assist you as Young and healthy man. I believe you will honestly answer me No.

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... Your future course must now be directed by your maker and yourself. Your friends can do no more for you ... You may believe me Henry when I assure you that nothing on Earth would now afford me the heartfelt satisfaction that your becoming virtuous would.7

This letter touches on many of the issues that would have been of concern to the parents of young adults. Their behaviour was considered to reflect on the family as a whole. By offending the rules of respectability, Henry brought dishonour on his family, not just on himself. This could be particularly troubling to his sisters, who were of an age to be getting married. They would not have wanted their chances to be spoiled by their brother's actions. The expectations of Eliza and Robert Hoyle reflect the new middle-class ideals of respectability and industry that underlay the temperance movement of the early nineteenth century.8 This attitude shows the concern for self-improvement, which was the new trend in masculine ideals, as well as a desire for Henry to become a useful member of society, a more prevalent ideal in the eighteenth century.9 We unfortunately do not have the text of Henry's letter home to which his stepmother responded, or his perspective on this situation. Through Eliza's reply, we can see that he felt hard done by to some extent and believed that his sisters were favoured over him. Although he appears to have been taken in by a former neighbour of the Hoyles, Mr Manning, he missed being surrounded by the comforts of home, family, and friends. In a different environment his behaviour would have met which much greater leniency. In the late eighteenth century, especially among the gentry, young adults frequently had to be bailed out from debts and ill-advised spending, often from gambling, and respectability was not dependent upon temperate behaviour.10 Among the rising middle class, however, new norms were being enforced, and respectability had to be earned through temperate and industrious behaviour. The new ideals of manhood called upon young men to master their physical impulses and to achieve self-control." The childrearing advice manuals that proliferated in the 18305 stressed the importance of good habits which parents were to develop in their children by providing them with the appropriate lessons. Children successfully socialized in this way would have a strong sense of duty, be self-disciplined, diligent workers, and be distrustful of impulse.11 Adolescence could be a difficult time for male children socialized in this way.13 Growing up was undoubtedly more difficult for some youth than others. I4 In the case of Henry Hoyle, his failure to meet his parents' expectations led to self-imposed exile from home. However, once safely through adolescence and estab-

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lished on their own, most children continued their relationships with their parents and siblings, modifying them to adapt to their new status. PARENTS AND ADULT CHILDREN It was generally accepted by the nineteenth century that parents had no right to try to control or influence their adult children, especially once they were married. The issue of temperance became so important to one father, however, that it caused him to transgress this norm. In Upper Canada, the Rev. J. William Bell15 of the First Presbyterian Church in Perth was a strong advocate of temperance. Perth, in the 18305, with a population of only 1,000, had "eight taverns, seven stores selling liquor, three distilleries, and a brewery." A local temperance society claimed over 500 members.16 When Bell announced an upcoming temperance meeting to his congregation in 1842., he told them that the meeting was not just for members but also for those opposed, "that they may be made ashamed of their conduct and hide their faces."17 At that event, according to Bell's son-in-law John Mailoch, "there was a grand performance on the tee total principal." Near the end of the meeting, Bell "remarked to the effect, that anyone who professed Christianity & did not belong to the Temperance Society was nothing but a nominal professor that there was no Christianity about him."18 In Upper Canada generally, and especially in recently settled areas such as Perth, heavy drinking was then the norm. Temperance societies made some headway in the 18405 and 18505, but the uncompromising position taken by the Reverend Bell must have alienated many. Irascible and difficult, this minister had been forced to emigrate from Scotland because he was so unpopular a preacher that he could not find a permanent post. Unsurprisingly, he got into numerous quarrels in Perth, despite his energetic missionary work among Scottish immigrants in the area. Bell had personal experience with intemperance. His son William Jr, whose wife and newborn child died in 1837, had difficulty dealing with this tragedy and became depressed, often drinking to excess. Around Christmas in 1841, for example, he was reported as having "been on the spree for 4 days." He had broken a bottle of grog all over the office floor, and "as soon as it was dried up 8c camphored, he went out for more." On i January i84Z he was "groggy again today." Later in January he was at it again: " WmBJr has broke out again - John says he is drunk today - has finished a qt gin today."19 William Jr's intemperate habits were a cause of great embarrassment to his "much afflicted father," who shortly after this took a temperance

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pledge and commanded all his children, including his daughter, Isabella Malloch, to do likewise. He went even further, and wanted her to make a pledge of temperance for the next generation and all generations to come. He also forbade his children "to make intermarriages, ... with any who refuse to join with them" on this matter. Isabella went to see her father after receiving this written injunction and told him that she might follow his example but that she would not "obey his command." She also pointed out to him that she had "as great a right to exercise liberty of conscience as he had and he was not justified in calling down the vengeance of Heaven."20 Not surprisingly, the patriarchal manner in which the Rev. Bell addressed his daughter irritated her husband, who intended to return the injunction and beg his father-in-law "not to take such liberties and interfere with the management of [his] household."21 The protest he penned a few days later expressed his objections in the strongest terms: Now know all men by these presents, that I ... feeling grateful to Divine Providence for the charge he has given me, and being aware of the great responsibility I am under for the faithful discharge of my duty as a husband and parent - Do hereby Protest against the said Document... And I do hereby deny the right of any individual, interfering in the management of the temporal affairs of my family, so long as it pleaseth the Giver of All Good to retain me over them as their head and guide. And under great concern for the danger of those who thus trifle with the peace temporal and eternal of others, do hereby warn all persons from taking such liberties in future.21

Before sending this protest to his father-in-law, he sent a copy of it to his brother-in-law, Robert Bell, of Carleton Place, and asked for his opinion on it. Robert replied that he agreed in principle with everything in the protest but that he thought that for the sake of peace Malloch should not send it.23 In July Malloch also showed it to another brother-in-law, the Rev. Andrew Bell, who also approved of the content and agreed that his father had no right to make such commands.24 The incident seems to have blown over without any serious disruption of the relationship between Malloch and Bell households. Malloch's reaction, however, indicates that he took this challenge to his position as head of his household seriously. Phebe Pringle's letters to her son William Anson Pringle show a woman suffering from infrequent contact with children who have left home. Her adult children seem to have had minimal involvement with their parents. The following letter poignantly expresses Phebe's feelings:

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Fredrekbergh February 1836 My Dear Son I take my pen in hand to tel you that I have not forgot you I long to see you I have a gate deal I want to tell you Aunt Huldah Harrison is Dead and Richard Sutton he died at our house and left a brogtite[?] witness that he was going to heaven with thankfulness I recieve your letters I hope you will continue to write to me every oportunity and state to me particular how your health is and not Deceive me for fear of giving me trouble I have a grate ankecty on my mind dayly I fear you will take cold which might bee serious my dear Son my love to you pen cannot describe I long to see you I hope you will come as soon as you can tell thae boys I long to see them I want them to write every opotunity I hope James will come home in the spring I canott content muself without him or you I go morning the absence of my children but hope to see them again I am in a hury and my stiff fingers may weary your patice M[is]ter Lemary[?] is wating I hope to take time in another letter I remain you afectionate Mother Phebe Pringle25 Some of her letters included more news and information about different people but returned briefly to similar expressions before signing off. 26 She also expresses her religious faith and the emptiness of her life without her children: I think if we never see each other in this life I hope we shall meet in that world where parting will be not more Oh Anson pen nor tongue cannot describe my feelings I am scribling in your bedroom and on your stand when I walk through the house no anson Samue[l] nor James do I find all is gone it causes deep grones and sighs I do not feel satisfied to spend my life short day so far from my Dear children you all are like hands that twine about my heart you are far from your Mother but often in her mind I was happy to hear from you all tell Samuel and Jane I wish them Joy in their young Son I hope one and all of you well and faithful to your Profession I [?] that you did not write to let me know how you are a geting along in a devine life I want to hear whether you are growing in grace I hope you will be faithfull never turn from the faith once delivered to you stick to the Old Ship Zion keep the Prise in view and you will get safe in harbor tell the boys to be faithfell ever keep in remembrance what the Lord has done for them you all must expect to have trials but what of all that the Lord is a safe refuge I can tell you. 27 The Pringle parents were getting older and would have liked help on their farm, but none of their children was interested in inheriting it.28 Writing to William, Joseph Pringle dealt with these business matters but ended on a similar note to that of his wife:

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Do not forget your poor Mother whos anxiety has been great on your account & who feels for your spiritual & temporal interest. It is my earnest pray in the silent watches of the night that you will walk worthy of the high vocation where with you are called being steadfast & immovable always abounding in the work of the Lord for as much as you know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord - As you have received Christ so walk ye in him; having respect unto the recompence of the reward - Be ye faithfull unto death & you shall receive a crown of life To conclude 3 John 1c & 13 & 14 verses29

It is hard to know why the Pringle sons distanced themselves from their parents. William had married without letting his parents know. "I have heard that you are married I want to know who to I wish you joy and peace wish you to come and fetch your wife that I might see her,"30 his mother wrote. Despite such expressions of good-will and concern, it seems the sons wrote only occasionally and visited even less, if at all. The three children of Patrick Martin, a farmer in Hastings County, Upper Canada, provide very different examples of relationships between parents and adult children. One of the two boys, John, lived near his parents, was married, and had children. He was referred to in the correspondence only indirectly. Because of his proximity to his aging parents, he was undoubtedly the one who would help them out when they needed it and who would have had frequent if not daily contact with them. Their daughter, Mary Call, lived within visiting distance, and because she was widowed and trying to run a farm herself, was frequently in a position of having to call on her father for help (see pp. 249, 255-6). William, a carpenter, had left home while still young and unmarried to go to the United States to find work. Although he was never completely out of touch, his letters were irregular, and in some cases he went one or two years without writing.31 Perhaps because of this, his father's reply to his letter was rather short and said little beyond the fact that the family was in good health. He then added: "Your mothers request and mine is that you will refrain from bad company and keep good hours."32Being away from home did not prevent William from offering advice to his brother. He asks about John's marital status, wanting to know "whether my brother still continues to live a life of single blessedness or whether he has joined himself to some fair Damsl of his choice in the Hymenal bonds of wedlock and if not it is high time that he would do so and not allow my mother to continue a slav all her life time."33 Leaving home also helped him to better appreciate his family: "I have never Realized the Happiness there is in having a Dear father and tender mother and affectionate Brother and sister until now when i am

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Deprived of their society."34 Although he thought about the possibility of returning and buying a farm nearby, this goal probably became more elusive as time went by. William also wrote: "It grieves me to the heart to hear of your bad circumstances and particularly when it is not in my power to relieve them which i will assure you that nothing could contribute more to my happiness than for to have it in my power for to do so." He felt this required an explanation and proceeded to detail the way in which a combination of bad luck, being duped, and being sick prevented him from helping out. He would not normally explain this but did so "for fear you would think i was ingrateful and i would not do little for those who has done so much for me."" Another long silence followed before he wrote from Cuba to say that he was working there.36 After a few letters from Cuba, silence. CHILDREN AND ELDERLY PARENTS

In the nineteenth century the care of the elderly was a family responsibility. Some of the most destitute would end up in provincial institutions such as houses of industry. Some of the wealthy would board in relative comfort in an institution such as the Hopital General in Montreal. Those with property tried to hold on to it as long as possible in order to maintain their independence. Amelia Harris, for example, continued to own her own home, Eldon House, until all of her children were grown, taking on the role of matriarch as she dispensed advice and comments on the lives of her adult children.37 Farmers were also often reluctant to hand their land over to their sons. Only when they could no longer farm on their own would they finally turn control over to one of their heirs. In return they asked for a place to live, a house of their own or the use of a specific number of rooms in the existing house, and the goods and services that would allow them to live in relative ease. In Lower Canada these contracts, called donations viageres, were very specific, and the demands made were sometimes so onerous that the heir might renounce the gift rather than accept it. Similar contracts were made in Upper Canada. The difficulties that could arise from such arrangements explain why many of these were so detailed. When John Moodie settled his house on his son, thinking that this would assure him and Susanna assistance and a place to live, the plan backfired. Susanna found that they could not live with her daughter-in-law. She described her as "a selfish, cold hearted arogant Quadroon, a woman of little intellect, and who dispises it in others." She wanted to treat her mother-in-law like a "miserable dependent" or rather a "servant of all work." Ever since John

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Moodie had given up the house to them, Susanna claimed, they had acted as if the obligation was the other way. To make matters worse, their son then sold the house and left the country, leaving them with no roof over their heads.38 This bad judgment on her husband's part also alienated their son-in-law who had been very helpful to them in the past, and as a result she did not see or hear from her daughter Katie whom she missed very much.39 Those without property, however, would not have this option and might be forced to turn to their children for assistance and in some cases to go to live with them. As long as the parents remained healthy, they might have been only a moderate burden, but if they became ill, this would add considerable work to families already caring for several of their own children. In spite of this, we find examples of children accepting such a burden, ungrudgingly even. George Douglas seems to have been particularly fortunate in that regard, as several of his children and even his grandchildren shared the duties associated with his care as he got older. This example, revealed in their correspondence, offers insights into what caring for a parent in this period entailed. There appear to be similarities with the care of patients with Alzheimer disease today. A widower of seventy-seven in 1861, George Douglas lived with his son Donald. Both his son John and his son Alexander lived nearby, and he would spend time with them as well when he wanted to. In the Douglas correspondence, we can trace the progress of his aging and its attendant illnesses prior to his death in 1865. In 1862 he was still quite healthy but "failing fast."40 In May of that year, he was becoming feeble,41 but he remained much the same until the spring of the following year. He then seems to have suffered a heart attack that left him partly paralysed ("parlitick"); he went out one day in his usual health but his knees or legs failed him and he had to be carried home. He was not able to help himself, but he could still make use of his "vitills." Although he sometimes rallied, his sons had no illusions and wrote to their brother William: " [T]he fact is you need not be surprised to hear of his Death at any time he is an old man now and we can not expect him to live long indeed such old age is but grief & labour."41 He remained in this situation for some time, which meant that he spent some time in bed and some in a chair but had to be helped from one to the other.43 By May he had recovered somewhat and was described as "quite smart."44 He was well enough to go to Alex's to spend some time in June.45 That caused problems, however, because of his conflicts with Mrs Bain (see also p. 149). Donald wrote to William at the end June saying that their father had lost his faculties and had to be watched like a child but that he was difficult to manage especially

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around Mrs Bain when he went to Alex's: "what a curse that woman has been amongst us." Still, they had made up their minds to do the best they could with him.46 By September he was a little better, and spending a lot of time at Alex's. Somehow, this was no longer a problem, "as he thinks a good dale of Mrs Bain now."47 That winter he was worse again, as John reported: "Father is quit poorly he is with us he is not abel to help himself he cannot walk or stand alone mor than a child it is quit a Job to move him in or out of bed for he is very heavy and helpless but his health doe not seem bad for he sleeps sound his faculties is leaving him But I cant say that I see any Death signs about him of cours he is an old man & may drop of at any time."48 He remained weak that Christmas and was disappointed not to have William's visit.49 Although he was barely able to walk about, he was able to spend a week with John's family and a few days at Alex's before going home to Donald's.50 George Douglas Sr remained fairly well through the following winter51 and summer. In the fall of 1864, just as Donald and John were making plans to go to the exhibition in Hamilton and visit William in Chatham, he became ill again ("his water cant be got from him"). That meant they had to hire a man to look after him when they left for even a few days, so the trip to Chatham had to be cancelled.52 He got through this crisis and they were able to get something to relieve him, but the illness left him prostrate and they did not expect him to be able to move about again.53 He remained bedridden for the next six weeks or more, during which time he could get out of bed only when lifted, and a watch had to be kept on him day and night. When Alexander wrote this, he added that he was pretty well worn out and had not had his clothes off in eight days, so his father must have been at his place during this time. The old man was doing a little better and would not need to be operated on as had been anticipated, but he remained very weak and helpless.54 He was able to sit up a little every day but not to help himself.55 At one point he fell and cut his brow, though not seriously, but he was "wondrful fretful" at times.56 The situation remained much the same through Christmas,57 but in February he was sick again. He was still staying at Alex's, who therefore had the bulk of the work associated with his illness, but his two brothers helped with the expense of getting a man to help out: he is very bad with graval again as well as his bowels Alex has a hard case of it with him he has a man to attend to him of course we have to pay the man but you have no Idea of the job it is we must pay him I have been doing something in that way of cours I have not don nere what I think he deservs Donald

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has don some think." Added later - been to see Father - no better - but see no signs of Death as far as I can see.58

This time John was wrong, and death came shortly after. William may have made it home to Percy before his father died, because the next letter from George mentions his getting a letter from Alex with a few words from William about the death.59 William's reactions went unrecorded, since in May he still had not replied to Alex or John's letters after his father's funeral.60 A period of two years had elapsed between George Douglas's first serious attack, which left him partly paralysed, and his death. During that time he spent several months completely helpless and bedridden, able to leave his bed only when carried. But he was fortunate in having three grown sons with whom he could live, and who shared the task of looking after him, even watching him night and day for six weeks when he was seriously ill. The kind of care he needed required physical effort, and his sons, not their wives, had to provide it. This does not mean that he did not create extra work for his daughters-inlaw, but we do not know how they perceived this situation. When his sons could not be with him all the time, they hired a man to help out. In his better periods, when he was able to get around but did not have all his "faculties," other family members including the children had to keep an eye on him and prevent him from wandering or hurting himself. This constant care must have taken a toll on those providing it. It is a tribute to George Douglas that none of his sons ever expressed resentment at having to care for him, and that John would be able to say "I have not don nere what I think he deservs."61 CHILDREN AND THE DEATH OF A PARENT

Although the sons of George Douglas were close to their father and did the best they could for him while he was alive, they were not unduly upset at his death. George, who lived the furthest distance away, was philosophical about it. He was sorry for it, but his father had lived to a good old age and was prepared for death, having lived a pious life/1 His death was therefore readily accepted. For the brothers who had cared for him through his long illness, it must have come as a relief. Marguerite Harnois's father was also old and ill for some time before his death. When she wrote of his impending end, she mentioned that he had received the last sacraments and was resigned to death. She went on to say how sad it was for the family to lose such a good father. Sure that he would not recover, she added, "we must resign ourselves to everything."6' Although she did not go on at length, her belief that

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one must accept divine will with resignation was explicit. Her letter suggested that a "good" parent would be missed more than one who was not. When Dame Julie Mercier, wife of Benjamin Beaupre, died of cholera in 1832., her son-in-law, Edouard Rodier, wrote to his friend Ludger Duvernay to ask him to write an obituary notice for the next day's paper. Along with the pertinent information he provided, he allowed himself an expression of his grief at the loss of this "mother" who had loved him as dearly as her own children. The suddenness of her death, after only seventeen hours of illness, and her relatively young age (forty-nine), he thought, added to the grief of her family. She had kept her spirits up to the last, maintaining her serenity and tenderness as her children cried around her. "She was extremely charitable, an affectionate spouse, the most tender of mothers ... Her loss was irreparable. She was the most esteemed and the most estimable person of the village and parish." Others concurred with his view, for although she was buried almost immediately, "the funeral procession was very numerous and the most respectable of the place, even though the fear of the illness and the alarm spread everywhere had stopped many from coming."*4 Her children clearly found this sudden death very distressing. To lose suddenly a parent who was still young was undoubtedly more difficult to accept than the anticipated death of an elderly one. A child could still feel a strong sense of loss when a parent died, of course, even when the parent was old and the death not unexpected. Mary Westcott, who had first lost her mother and then her brother when he was twelve, was her father's only child. Although he remarried, they always had a very close relationship. They corresponded regularly and each made at least one visit of several weeks to each other every year. When he died, Mary had trouble facing the fact that she could no longer look forward to his visits and that he would no longer be there for her. She expresses some of this in a letter to her stepmother: I have not been able to write sooner as the return here has overcome me more than I had feared it would. It is far more painful to live over the sad scenes last passed thro here, than to remember dear Father as he was in health at Saratoga- & I cannot tell how I shall get thro the winter - I had always his visits to look forward to, when I came back, & every preparation to make for his coming - Can it be that all this is gone for ever— but I would not dear Mother add one pang to your already heavy sorrow by intruding mine upon you - our burdens are each as much as we can bear May God help us. My beloved husband & children are so happy to be all together again at home that I know for

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their sakes I must live down my grief in a constant effort for their comfort 8c happiness.65

No matter how close the relationship, the passing of an elderly parent would not have the same repercussions as the death of a parent at a young age. Having a spouse and children of one's own, as Mary Westcott did, would undoubtedly make it easier to face such a loss. As well, in all the cases we have seen, religious beliefs played a key role in helping the survivors accept their bereavement. CONCLUSION

The relationship between parents and their children varied widely in the nineteenth century, as it does today. By and large, however, most parents felt a genuine affection for their children as well as a concern to provide them with the land, education, or training necessary to establish themselves independently. For some their role ended at this point, but for many others it continued well beyond, as parents became grandparents and developed relationships with their grandchildren as well. The Papineau family stands out as one in which intergenerational contact was particularly well maintained. The fondness of Amedee Papineau for his grandmother, who shared his birthday and saw him as her special grandchild, is evident from early in his diary. When Amedee had children himself, they were blessed in their younger years with two sets of loving grandparents. Even when our diarists or correspondents are not explicit, their actions often suggest a family closeness and warmth. It is highly likely that in those families that regularly interacted in a relationship based on reciprocity and mutual assistance, emotional bonds between children and their grandparents and aunts and uncles also emerged. How could Eliza Bellamy visit her daughter on a regular basis and help care for her children when they were ill without also becoming a beloved grandmother? Not all parents would fit the positive image of parenthood that dominates here. There were undoubtedly some who were violent, while others had little emotional support to offer their children. Others simply made "mistakes" in decisions about inheritances, schooling, or dowries that resulted in estrangement, as in the Moodie family. Remarriages and reconstituted families did not always work out smoothly, as Peter Gossage's work on stepfamilies indicates.66 Some children moved away from home and sooner or later stopped communicating. This would not necessarily be an indication of an actual difficulty but simply a reflection of changed circumstances.

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Other types of records might well reveal more frequent incidence of familial conflicts. Although we are aware that such problems did exist in the Canadas in this period, the overwhelming evidence from the many collections examined here is to the contrary. Parents and children often maintained affectionate ties over great distances and helped each other when they could. Their letters reflect the prevalent attitude that individuals linked by family ties - by blood or marriage - should assist each other and that it was to one's family that one should first turn. These links of mutual assistance and reciprocity, examined in the next section, played an important role in constructing kinship networks and communities.

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PART T H R E E

Kinship and Community

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INTRODUCTION

On 17 March 1855 Eliza Bellamy wrote in her diary: [F]ine morning now storm Rhoda went home this morning with Luther I shall miss her company, yesterday a host of visiters Mrs. Chalmers and Son with Miss Hulbert and J Blanchard, to dinner, afternoon Isaiah, Eliza and Emily Dr. Scofield, wife, and Mrs Hummel Isaiah did not stop to tea ... this afternoon, went to Walkers with Mrs. Chambers staid to tea home with J. and Margrett. Sabbath, did not go to church, Father and I went to Isaiah', they had been to Prescott with the Doctor saw Maryan, took tea and home.1

This entry is not particularly unusual; there was a great deal of coming and going in the Bellamy home. Most of the visits mentioned were to or from family members, but there were also numerous contacts with friends in the community. Were Eliza Bellamy exceptional in this regard, this would require no further investigation. The evidence from all of our sources, however, suggests that visiting was central to the lives of families in Upper and Lower Canada and that much of this interaction was with kin as well as neighbours. Through visits and calls, along with other forms of social interaction (some already seen in our discussion of courtship), social networks were created and maintained and neighbourhoods were transformed into communities. Examining neighbourhood links in a late eighteenth-century Hudson Valley agricultural area, Martin Bruegel has suggested that families created links to those living nearby as a way to increase their security.2 Mutual assistance was also important in the exchanges documented by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich in eighteenth-century New England.3 Karen Hansen and Nancy Osterud found that communal labour and exchanges continued well into the nineteenth century until the need for such strategies was no longer as great.4 Michael Anderson's now classic study of the working class in nineteenth-century Lancashire has shown that kinship ties were also important in urban settings. Young couples often lived with kin during the first year after marriage, and many widowed older parents lived with their children. Even when children achieved a separate residence for their own family, however, kinship ties could still be important. Anderson's study led the way in changing the historical perception that the rise of the nuclear family meant a lessening of kinship ties.5 As he has pointed out: "Kinship does not stop at the front door."6 Among Irish immigrants especially, he found that kin felt they had a claim to special

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treatment, "because they were kin" and that they could make a claim for assistance "on any kinsman they could locate."7 Staying in touch and attending certain rituals such as weddings and funerals were therefore seen as duties. In a highly mobile society and especially for migrants who were not yet settled, a system of neighbourhood assistance was less likely to work than assistance based on kinship.8 When diaries9 and family correspondence are examined for evidence of the nature of family life, the wide extent of social networks and the maintenance of connections with kin over a great geographical area quickly become apparent. It is clear as well that neighbours played an important role during times of crisis, especially in rural areas. Sociability also extended to friends, who were sometimes but not always kin and usually but not always neighbours. The social networks that supported individuals and families were composed of these overlapping categories of friends, neighbours, and kin, and to focus exclusively on any one would make us lose sight of the complexity and extent of these networks. In the following chapters we explore family sociability and the way in which family celebrations, visiting, acts of mutual assistance and reciprocity, and correspondence were used to create and maintain kinship and community links. We find that much of family life took place beyond the front door.

9

Domestic Rituals and Celebrations In the eighteenth century and earlier, celebration of traditional holidays including Christmas were communal affairs that involved drinking and other forms of rowdy behaviour. In the Victorian era, middle-class celebrations of holidays became private occasions that focused on the family. Elizabeth Pleck, who has examined the history of American Thanksgiving, refers to these celebrations as "domestic occasions," defined as "a family gathering held in the home which paid homage to the ideal of the 'affectionate family.'"1 This gathering of kin to celebrate events such as birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays usually extended beyond the nuclear family. John Gillis has suggested that the ritualization of family celebrations began at mid-century when industrialization and economic change meant that families no longer spent as much time together as formerly. Ritual, he believes, tends to emerge to replace something which is missing; when families spent time together in the context of the household economy, they would not have needed such rituals.1 Steven Mintz and Susan Kellogg suggest that daily life in the United States became more domestic starting in the early nineteenth century. Although some aspects of this took a religious form, such as pious households meeting for morning prayer and families attending church together on Sunday, more secular manifestations also emerged: "By the mid-nineteenth century, the family vacation had appeared, as did a series of new family oriented celebrations, such as the birthday party, Christmas, and Thanksgiving. The birthday cake, the Christmas tree, Christmas presents, Christmas caroling, and the Thanksgiving turkey were all manifestations of the reorientation of daily life around the family. Heaven itself was increasingly described as a 'home' where family members would be eternally united after death."3 Based on the evidence examined here, "domestic occasions" were still rare in the Canadas in the early nineteenth century. Birthdays were sometimes celebrated but more often went by with only a mention in

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a diary. The same was true of anniversaries. Valentine's Day was occasionally referred to, but few special rituals seem to have been attached to it. In Canada Thanksgiving does not seem to have been observed to the same extent as it was in the United States.4 Only Mary Westcott Papineau, who was of American origin, celebrated it.5 Christmas did bring some families together, but was a low-key religious celebration for most. The fact that the Legislative Assembly often stayed in session through Christmas, leaving many of their members to spend the time in a boarding house, suggests that being home for the occasion was not a high priority. In contrast, New Year's was a highly social celebration and will be discussed in the following chapter. And while the idea that family members would reunite in heaven was frequently alluded to in the papers examined, funerals and the rituals surrounding death continued to be community-oriented rather than family-oriented. The only reference found to a first communion suggests that it was viewed as a religious event, not a family celebration.6 It seems, therefore, that domestic rituals were still rare in early nineteenth-century Canada. If, as Gillis suggests, rituals emerge when something is missing, most families had yet to feel any need to ritualize their get-togethers. ANNIVERSARIES AND VALENTINE'S DAY

Although wedding anniversaries were definitely of significance to many couples, they did not necessarily commemorate them to any great extent. Amedee Papineau and his wife were perhaps an exception, in that they drank a toast to their relationship on every monthly anniversary of the first year of their marriage. When Susanna Moodie and her husband were separated on their wedding anniversary, she consoled herself by writing to him on that day " a few lines to tell you how dear you are and how fondly I remember you."7 John Wells remembered his "poor father and mother's wedding day 40 years ago" on their anniversary when only his mother was still living and he was far away.8 John Glass Malloch wrote reflectively in his diary on his anniversary: "This is the anniversary of our marriage during the past six years we have had much comfort and happiness, and truly may we say that Providence has made our cup to run o'er - We had Mr &c Mrs Bell to tea, but John went to school and William said he could not get away ... Father was also here - we spent a very pleasant evening."9 Having friends to tea and their father visiting is notable in this case, because a special social effort was being made to mark the occasion. Some couples noted Valentine's Day in much the same way as they did an anniversary, as a time to remember their loved one in a special way. Thus they might note it in their diary, or in a letter if they were

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apart, but did not necessarily mark it in other ways. Susanna Moodie, for example, writing to her husband on 14 February 1838, begins: "Good morning to you Valentine!"10 The practice of sending valentines did exist, however, and would have been especially important for courting couples. William Douglas apologized to his fiancee for not sending her one in 1863, saying that he did not send any that year.11 Valentines were sometimes sent anonymously, Harriet Ross received one that consisted of a long verse suggesting she should choose no valentine that year. She accused Abraham Joseph of being its author, but he denied it. Even in his diary he does not admit to sending it but copies the verse down in its entirety.11 BIRTHDAYS

Although birthdays were not ignored completely, there was often no special celebration to mark them. William Douglas's correspondence with his fiancee, Jane Hudson, mentioned both of their birthdays but only in passing. He wrote to wish her many happy returns, having forgotten to mention it when he saw her. She would get the letter on the actual day.13 On his own birthday, he wrote: "You know this is my birth-day. So congratulate me - nobody knows it here."14 Ann Wrong mentioned her birthday in her diary almost as an aside: "We are just now enjoying a most powerful rain which puts me in a very quiet humor, as rain invariably does. My Birthday." I5 John Wells noted his birthday as well as those of his brother and a female friend in his diary, but with no reference to activities related to the event.16 Possibly some special birthdays were celebrated whereas others were not. Frances Tweedie (Milne) mentions several birthdays in her diary. On the day of her own, she wrote: "Churned, picked geese, irond, & my birthday, well celebrated. And a lovely shower in the evening. Jim down town etc."17 Unfortunately she does not give any detail as to what form the celebration took, but it clearly had not prevented her from spending the day working. In 1870, the year her mother turned sixty, Frances noted, "I made pudding to celebrate it. Mrs. & Miss G. & Mrs. Hislop & Mary and & Beccy here."18 Her own birthday in contrast, was a "quiet day, busy fixing up things in general. I am zz years old today."19 On her husband's birthday she simply noted that she "had no present for him."20 These entries suggest that in her family some birthdays might be marked by the giving of presents, but clearly there were no established rituals around this. The Rev. Reid in Frelighsburgh noted that his family celebrated his wife's sixty-fifth birthday with a turkey dinner.21 Children's birthdays were sometimes given special notice. Susanna Moodie wrote to her husband that his daughter Katie wished he would

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be there for her birthday,22 but she does not mention how they celebrated it. John Malloch, who shared a birthday with his daughter, marked the occasion of her fifth birthday by presenting her with a Bible. The previous year she had received a testament.23 In 1842, however, they had a party, and "a great flock of little boys & girls were invited to tea." A few adult friends and kin including John's father were invited as well. But this was also a workday since John planted corn.24 His father and several cousins came to celebrate his younger son's birthday in early January. The Reverend Wilson's children came as well and "all the Bells" except William, who sent a written apology. This left John feeling that he should be thankful for his "health and domestic comforts with which it has pleased a kind Providence to bless us."25 For Ella Papineau's first birthday, her grandparents, a great-uncle, and two aunts as well as her parents came together for a family dinner. Her grandparents presented the child with a silver goblet and her parents with a large trunk for a trip to the United States. Ella also received lace bonnets from her aunts.26 This occasion had to be planned in advance in order for her grandparents to be there. In some families, then, birthdays were starting to be the occasion for gatherings that seem to meet the criteria for "domestic occasions." CHRISTMAS CELEBRATIONS

Christmas was an important date in the Catholic religious calendar, marking as it did the birth of Christ. In England, however, the riotous revelry associated with the celebration of Christmas had placed it in disfavour with the Puritans, and during the Cromwell era it was not marked. The Puritans carried this attitude with them to New England where Christmas was just another working day into the nineteenth century. An attempt to revive it as a religious holiday in the early nineteenth century was never very successful. Instead it was Christmas as a "domestic occasion," complete with presents and Santa Glaus, that would eventually replace that of misrule.27 This transformation of Christmas in America took place after 1820.28 In French Canada the traditional celebration of Christmas involved attending midnight mass, followed by a family gathering called the reveillon. The holiday season culminated in the Feast of the Magi on 6 January. The entire period was marked as a time for revelry, dancing, and entertainment that continued through the winter. It was not until the late nineteenth century that nationalists struggled to keep Santa Claus out of Christmas celebrations. In Montreal, where English traditions of misrule were also present, disorders led in 1848 to the cancelling of midnight mass in favour of the following morning.29

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There was no single Christmas tradition among Protestants living in Upper and Lower Canada. Those from New England had little in the way of Christmas traditions. Some saw it as a religious occasion and attended church. Some celebrated with a dinner associated with special foods such as the Christmas cake and plum pudding. For many families getting together for Christmas was important, but not always possible. The Hallen family, who had recently immigrated to Upper Canada from England, got together every Christmas if they could. For Christmas in 1840 young Eleanora Hallen helped her mother make plum pudding and a cake.30 In 1842 they left before daybreak to get together in Penetang on Christmas Eve. The evening was spent playing cards, and the next morning they went to church.31 In 1844 the family again gathered in Penetang for Christmas, but Eleanora gave little detail except for noting "how glad we are all to be together."31 The following year she wrote: "[W]e had a wonderful Christmas; we were 14 to dinner on Christmas Day, it meant a great deal of work for my dear Mother as we only have one maid."33 Although Eleanora's diary entries are short and give little detail, they indicate that despite fairly large distances to be travelled, her brothers and sisters gathered at her parents' home in Penetang to celebrate Christmas together. This was clearly a family-oriented celebration of some importance. Before he was married, William Douglas, whose family had emigrated to Upper Canada from Scotland, went home for Christmas as a matter of course. The Christmas that he was courting Jane Hudson, he hoped to spend a few days with her before going to Percy.34 In the end he was prevented from going home, and although his brothers were sorry not to have him there, they accepted his absence without much comment.35 They continued at Christmas to expect to see him as well as their brother George, who lived in Iowa, if at all possible.36 When William did not visit after his marriage, they hoped that they would at least see him at Christmas. He planned to go,37 but when his wife gave birth early, they were forced to cancel the trip. His family continued to hope that they would come the following Christmas.38 The idea that family should get together at Christmas was evident here, but in reality William and George were seldom able to do so. John Wells, an English immigrant to Upper Canada, regularly went to his sister's for Christmas. In i86z he was disappointed when his brother Tom did not join them: "I had hoped Tom wd come as we have spent all preceeding Xmas days together in Canada, but he did not make his appearance, as he is busy, preparing for the assizes. William Hammond dined with us off a wild turkey, and we had a remarkably quiet day."39 In contrast, some families seem to have done little to celebrate this occasion. Eliza Bellamy refers in her diary to some special cooking for

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Christmas including a cake, and to the killing of a goose, but dinner was planned only for those who lived at home. When her son-in-law Isaiah and his family arrived, it was unexpected.40 In Perth, John Glass Mailoch observed in an almost disapproving way that the French Canadians were in and out all day. Being unwell, he did not go out but came downstairs and received one visitor.41 Edmund Antrobus's servants went to midnight mass and did not return until 2, A.M., at which time he was in bed reading Blackwood. The next morning some of his family arrived at nine; they went to church and had lunch together. Their departure in the afternoon left him time to make two calls before returning home for a dinner "en famille." The meal is not mentioned as being special in any way, and he was in bed by eleven.42 Jacob Keefer, a loyalist of Huguenot descent, went to church twice at Christmas in 1846 but spent most of the day at the office. He also refers to the millwrights working and to James spending the day hauling timber.43 It is in the Papineau household, where middle-class values were strong and the American influence of Mary Westcott Papineau was felt, that there is the most evidence of a new kind of Christmas. The Papineau family's traditional observances tended to dominate, but there was some bowing to Yankee tradition such as mince pie. In 1854 the adults prepared a tree on Christmas Eve with lights and flowers and presents for everyone in the household.44 They planned to have all the family for Christmas dinner the next day. Mary's children hung stockings on Christmas Eve and received larger gifts as well from their grandparents and parents. The adults too gave each other gifts, but these may have been exchanged at New Year's or on the day of the Magi; in 1854 Mary had her father purchase a fine watch that was to be her gift for her husband, but as of 2.9 December she still had not given it to him. 45 More elaborate festivities which were likely to include extended family and friends were held on the Day of the Magi (Les Rois). Mary saw this day as being celebrated in much the same way that the Americans celebrated Christmas.46 Amedee Papineau's diary made reference to a large dinner at "Les Rois" almost every year. The traditional cutting of the cake was of particular importance, with a king and queen chosen for the evening based on who found the pea and the bean hidden in the cake. Although Mary celebrated Christmas in the manner of the Papineau family, in the i86os she also helped out at a party for Sundayschool children at her church on Christmas morning. Cakes and coffee and a sleigh ride were provided, as well as presents.47 Christmas at Eldon House, described in Amelia Ryerse Harris's diary from 1857 to 1870, was probably representative of middle-class Church of England observances. It was a religious and family celebration, but guests were often present for dinner. Although church attendance was

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expected, the remainder of the day could be spent in socializing and with amusements that included card-playing. In 1857 Amelia's Christmas began with attending church, where the bishop preached. Several friends and her married daughter called after church, and in the afternoon her sons went skating. Her daughter and son-in-law and four friends dined with the family, after which they played cards. The previous day a friend had given "a gold dollar as Christmas box" to her daughter Teresa and "four gold dollars" to her son George.48 Over the next decade, most Christmases Amelia described were similar to this one, with the number of family and guests varying from year to year. In 1859 she gave the servants dresses at Christmas, and there was "a general giving of little presents."49 In 1860 she received a dress from her son-in-law as a Christmas box on 8 December. The death of her former servant on Christmas day changed little. Most of the household attended church and family and friends made up a "large party" for dinner. In 1863 Amelia spent a very lonely Christmas with little company. In 1864 the church was not decorated with greenery for the first time in her memory, and so it did not seem like Christmas to her. In 1865 she received champagne as her Christmas box from her son-in-law. For the first time, she dined at her daughter's rather than at home. In 1866 there were no outside guests for dinner. Several visitors came for high tea, however, and in the evening those present played a "quiet game of euchre." In 1867, though she had several people to dinner, she did not feel very cheery. She found herself remembering the "dead and absent" and a time when the table was "surrounded by bright little faces" and she could "give pleasure as well as receive it." In 1869 her children brought her books for 'Christmas, but she mentions only George and Lucy as being there for dinner. Christmas of 1870 was fairly quiet, but she received a number of gifts and felt that her friends were very kind.50 It appears, then, that Amelia's children came home for Christmas after they were married, in as much as they were able to, but this was not always possible. Over this period the giving of presents in her family seems to have gone from being somewhat rare and for children only to being quite common and including adults. The choice of presents suggests that a commercial element was entering Christmas as well. FUNERALS

To help us deal with death, we surround it with ritual. In the early nineteenth century, death had to be contended with frequently as a result of infant mortality and childhood disease. Those who lived to twenty years had a better chance of seeing old age.51 In times of loss these rituals offered some comfort to the bereaved. What those were,

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however, could vary with class, religion, and ethnicity. Special circumstances could also alter established practices, as in the case of deaths from cholera and other contagious diseases that required that the body be buried immediately. Generally, however, these practices followed a similar pattern. Family and friends and members of the community paid their respects and kept watch over the body until the funeral, held a few days later. This constant surveillance over the body, also referred to as a wake, reassured the family that death had actually occurred and that they would not be burying someone who was still alive.51 The funeral usually involved a religious ceremony, either at home or at a church, followed by the procession to the burial grounds where an interment ceremony took place. Gary Laderman's reflections on these rituals in the rural Northern United States apply equally well in Canada at this time. "During the funeral journey survivors integrated the corpse into a network of rituals that allowed the living to engage in what they considered to be approbatory behaviour. This behavior was carried out by a close circle of relations, reinforcing communal solidarity, affirming the integrity of the family, and demonstrating the potent symbolic value of the corpse before it disappeared from view."53 Following the funeral, mourning rituals were observed for various periods of time depending on the individual's relationship to the deceased. Although such acts allowed the family to withdraw into the family circle to face their grief, being in mourning was also a public statement of one's loss that linked families to the wider community. There was clearly an expectation that the status and honour due a person in life would also be granted in these final tributes. The emotional reaction to death, however, was a private matter. Some grieved the dead inconsolably and found that life could never go back to being as it was before. Others faced death with relative calm and acceptance. Religious beliefs, especially the notion of being reunited after death, played an important role. So did the nature of the relationship in life. With the death of someone very close, even those who believed in resurrection could still suffer great distress. The correspondence and diaries examined here reflect a wide range of emotional responses and only occasionally provide detail as to funeral and burial practices. Mourning is frequently alluded to, but with little elaboration, since the rules would have been well known and did not have to be set out.54 Although it may seem like an intrusion to observe these grieving families even from the distance of time, the experience of facing death was central to family life and cannot be neglected. The death of Gustave Papineau allows us to examine many of these questions, because of his brother Amedee's detailed description of the funeral and the existence of letters from various members of the family

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reflecting upon the event. We must, however, remember that the funeral of the son of a seigneur would have been more elaborate because of this status. Gustave Papineau had been ill for a long time, but in mid-December 1851, when he had just turned twenty-two, the doctors warned that he was unlikely to recover. The priest was called in, and Gustave received the sacraments. He was resigned to his death. On 17 December he died with "manly courage & Christian resignation," according to his father's telegram asking that friends and family be notified.55 Arriving at his father's house, Amedee found the family heartbroken. Gustave's body was lying on a platform between two candelabras. In death he appeared natural and even smiling. The habitants came in great number to see him and to pray. The family also visited him often to pray and cry. On the Sunday some of the family went to mass. Others stayed to pray around the body. Every evening during this vigil the local priest came to lead a common prayer attended by the family, servants, neighbours, and many of the habitants who also stayed through the night to watch over the body ("en veille aupres du corps"). On the last night the family asked to have this privilege exclusively. Louis-Joseph Papineau stayed up until two in the morning when Amedee replaced him until seven. Amedee wrote: "It will always be for me a great consolation to have been the last, and for a long time, and alone, to watch near my dear brother, that I have been able to render him this last little service."}6 The funeral was set for Monday. Seven of Gustave's friends braved a two-day trip through winter storms to attend. The bishop of Bytown (Ottawa) and three priests also came. At the appointed time the clergy arrived in a long file, singing solemnly. The body was removed and the funeral procession formed. The clergy went first, followed by the coffin, with Gustave's young friends holding the mortuary flag. Amedee and his father followed immediately with his uncle Benjamin and Dr Murray, his cousins, Benjamin and Casimir Dessaulles behind them. Other relatives and a long line of habitants came next, on foot and in carriages. They made their way to the church where everything was decorated in black and hundreds of candles were lit. An open grave had been dug beside the seigneurial bench. A solemn high mass with the local priest at the head of the choir then began. This was followed by the "libera" and the burial service by the bishop. When everyone else had gone, Amedee stayed behind with the gravediggers to see the tomb filled and the floor replaced. The mourners began to depart for home, leaving the family alone with its sorrow. The following day Amedee's mother and sisters talked about the incidents of Gustave's last illness and death. (Amedee did not record these in his diary until the following Sunday.) On Wednesday, Amedee and his cousin Casimir had to leave, although he would have liked to stay

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longer to console his parents. Happily, his two aunts were remaining behind for that purpose.57 In his long diary entry Amedee has given us a detailed and calm description of the events following immediately after the death of his brother. He does so without commentary on the significance of many of the observations and without letting personal emotions interfere with his narrative of the event. He seems to have distanced himself somewhat in order to record it in full. This in itself can be seen as a tribute to his brother and an indication of the importance he placed on this event. From his description, we can make several observations about the presence of community and family and of public and private elements in this scene. The family in residence at Petite Nation was joined by a wider group of kin including aunts, uncles, and cousins. Only the men, however, attended the funeral and burial, representing the family in the public display of respect due their kin. Gustave's intimate friends also joined them and were given pride of place in the funeral procession. That the habitants came by in large numbers to pay their respects is also significant. Their presence confirms the existence of a community that incorporated both the seigneurial family and the habitants. The fact that the family had to ask to be alone the last night also indicates that for the duration, the room in which the body was laid out had become public space. The habitants came and went and cried beside the body and along with the family, but their place at the end of the funeral procession showed that they were not chief mourners. The status of a seigneur's son in that community was indicated by the presence of the bishop and more than one priest at the funeral mass, as well as the burial inside the church. The high mass, decorations, and large numbers of candles also reflected elite status. After the funeral, further respect for the deceased could be indicated by taking on mourning, and in this case, Amedee later noted in his journal that as a sign of respect the members of the Institut Canadien voted to go into mourning for one month on the death of their fellow member Philippe-Gustave Papineau.58 Many of the same elements appear in the descriptions of other funerals, although few are as detailed. The funeral of James Cuthbert Jr, another son of a seigneur, was described by his cousin Edmund Antrobus five months after the fact. The funeral was held on the Sunday following the death. The body was taken from the manor and placed on a sleigh built for the purpose. It was "painted black & covered by the silk velvet Pale belonging to the 68th Regt & drawn by two favourite horses of the family which he himself used to drive formerly - a faithful Dog followed the lifeless Body of his Master appearing truly to feel the loss we had all to deplore -1 shall never forget that arrival he brought tears to my Eyes." The seigneur of Berthier, the

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chief mourner, was first in the funeral procession, followed by James Robertson and Antrobus himself, with "little Edmund only son of poor James" on his lap in the next sleigh, driven by Antrobus's servant, and after them, a sleigh with Charles Forneret and Clark. They were followed by "an immense number of Friends and Tenants of the Deceased." The Reverend Anderson officiated. At four in the afternoon the assembly left the chapel where the body was deposited along with those of other relatives. "Blessed be that Abode of the Dead and Sacred may it be ever held," Antrobus wrote. He returned to Lanoraye with Robertson, and at five o'clock his wife Kate went to meet him. They returned home together the same night, "tired 8c sorrowful." 59 The pomp and ceremony of Catholic burials, especially when a person of high status was involved, comes across clearly in Mary Westcott Papineau's description of the funeral of Chief Justice Vallieres de Saint-Real in 1847. This was the "grandest funeral" ever seen in Montreal, she wrote. Although the deceased had lived extravagantly and left his wife with nothing, he died in the full glory of the Catholic faith and therefore received all the pomp and ceremony possible due a good Catholic dignitary of the land: "Scores of priests in full costume with long train - bearing silver incense cups - scores of children bearing wax lights - and monks with silver bowls of holy water All the Judges - lawyers &c &c many of the societies of which he was patron all in mourning - followed him to the church where the solemn funeral mass was said & he was taken in the vaults beneath Notre Dame - Half the town are in black & for 30 days - and yet who really cares that he is gone?"60 The ritual was more public than private, a reflection of the deceased's public status in life, attested to by the great attendance. The thirty-day period of mourning Mary mentions would probably be observed by the members of the legal profession, as well as the members of the societies who attended the funeral, in much the same way that the Institut Canadien registered its respect for Gustave Papineau. Pomp was not exclusive to the Catholics. When the Sheriff John A.H. Powell of the District of Bathurst died, invitation cards went out that night for a funeral the following day. It was well attended with many from the county coming and most of those from the town. One witness observed, "There was a great display of pomp."61 Public funerals such as that held for Thomas D'Arcy McGee on 13 April 1868 were even more elaborate. The procession took some time to organize. Public figures, politicians and dignitaries, preceded the body in the funeral procession. The casket was followed by the chief mourners, various professional groups, twenty-six or more national, literary, benevolent, temperance, and workingmen's societies, and only after that the general public/1

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Funeral customs were readily accepted by those who belonged to the group involved, but Catholic practices especially were not always viewed with approval by Protestants. When William Douglas attended a Catholic funeral mass for a young girl whose father was a Protestant (hence many of those present were Protestants), he felt revolted by it and felt the priest gave them a double dose for their sins (of being Protestant). "[T]he coffin was taken into the church (sprinkled with holy water before being admitted) then it was covered with about three dozen of candles which were lighted & the greatest quantity of the worst foolish nonsense gave this I ever saw."63 Occupational solidarity was an important aspect of many funeral rituals. William Douglas made a trip to the country to attend the funeral of a young lawyer friend who had died of consumption. He felt sad and melancholy because this young man had been cut off in the prime of life and had been a good fellow: " [W]e shall miss him exceedingly There is much more feeling & sympathy expressed for one in the country than in a city."*4 Some groups such as the Masons had special funeral rituals. William Douglas, unlike his reaction to the Catholic ceremony, found the Masonic burial service at the grave imposing. A "beautiful & eloquent service" was read, afer which each member threw a branch of evergreen into the grave as an emblem of lasting affection. Masonic regalia was then deposited on the coffin, and they all made some sort of march around the grave followed by a closing reading.65 Letting people know about a funeral was important if they were to attend. A notice in the paper might serve for those in cities with daily papers. In some cases invitations were sent out. The invitation to Mrs Louisa Caldwell's funeral noted that it would be held Friday, 15 February, at nine in the morning "from the house of Mr. Ashworth, St. Urbain Street, to the Parish Church, and from there to the Catholic Burying Ground."66 The space of several days between the death and the burial allowed time for people to come and pay their respects. It also gave those from further away the time to arrive for the funeral.67 Those at a great distance, however, would not hear of the death in time to attend and would therefore have to be notified by letter.68 Many letters refer to deaths among a wider circle of friends and acquaintances in a fairly casual manner. When a family member died, however, a letter would have to be written specifically to announce that death. William Douglas, for example, received the following notice: "It is our painful duty to inform you of the death of your brother Johns little Johny he died last evening at iz of the clock of Scarlet feaver."69 When John Ashworth died, it was his wife's brother, Alexander Caldwell, who took on the task of writing to his brother-in-law, Captain Hetherington.

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He took a direct approach, beginning his letter with: "I have a very melancholy duty to perform, It is with sincere regret I have to inform you of the death of our much esteemed Friend poor Ashworth after an illness of Six weeks, He never complained." The letter goes on to give the exact time of death and the time and place of burial and interment, including the mention that Ashworth was buried with military honours. The doctors were not familiar with his disease but did everything they could for him. Although Caldwell acknowledged the receipt of a letter referring to business matters, that subject was deferred to a later time.70 In most of the funerals examined above, only men seem to have attended. This was not the case in all circles, however. Ann Wrong mentions going to a Quaker funeral with a friend. She does not seem to have known the person who died and went out of curiosity, or in the hopes of hearing a good sermon.71 On another occasion she arrived at a funeral late but enjoyed the hymn which was sung because of the settling effect it had on her mind.72 Eliza Bellamy also went to funerals of persons who died in her community. In the space of fourteen months she mentions attending four funerals by herself or with her husband or her husband's sister. Her husband went to one by himself, and her servants Jim and Mary went once.73 In their community the practice seems to have been for everyone to attend funerals, not just the men. The variation may be attributed largely to class, as it was in England.74 In this period the notion of a good death existed among both Catholics and Protestants. Most would have agreed that dying at home, peacefully and surrounded by loved ones, was essential to a good death. Pat Jalland describes the evangelical model that influenced most Protestant denominations in the nineteenth century: Death ideally should take place at home, with the dying person making explicit farewells to each family member. There should be time ... for the completion of temporal and spiritual business, whether the latter signified final Communion or informal family devotions. The dying person should be conscious and lucid until the end, resigned to God's will, able to beg forgiveness for past sins and to prove his or her worthiness for salvation. Pain and suffering should be borne with fortitude, and even welcomed as a final test of fitness for heaven and willingness to pay for past sins.7*

The opposite, dying with "not one relative or friend to lament him," as in the case of "Old Mr. Bragg," inspired the young schoolteacher Ann Wrong to cite Alexander Pope and Thomas Gray. She added: "His humble funeral as it passed excited strange and pleasing melancholy feelings in my mind."76 For Catholics a chance to have their confession heard by a priest and to receive the last rites was also considered

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crucial to a good death. Counter to the notion, therefore, was a sudden death that would deprive a person of these benefits. Comments on the manner in which someone died are thus not unusual, particularly when there is some discrepancy with the accepted norm. The evidence from family correspondence is clear that family members and close friends wanted to know about the last few days of their loved ones and the manner of death. They were particularly concerned with their loved one's spiritual state at the time.77 Thus many letters, sometimes written several months after the fact, once the initial grief and stress of the actual death was over, describe the death of a loved one in much detail.78 When possible, family members were reassured that it had been painless or that suffering was not excessive. When a death was expected, it did not seem to be as devastating.79 When Amedee Papineau's grandmother died at eighty-eight years of age, he described this as sad news, and since she died on their mutual birthday, he regretted that every celebration of it would also be marked by a tear in her memory. But while he worried about how his mother would take this news and found the family in tears when he arrived, his own account of the funeral was matter-of-fact.80 Although funeral rituals varied from place to place and by class, ethnicity, and religion, they had in common a desire for a respectable funeral. The poor struggled to save enough to avoid a pauper's funeral. Families who could afford a lavish ceremony spared no expense. It was important to the survivors that the community of living honour the dead. A large attendance was the visible sign of community respect and admiration, and therefore brought some gratification to the bereaved. These sentiments are expressed in a brief note from Mary Call to her family: "[I] regret to state to you that our friend hugh Redmond has departed this life the 15 day of this present month regretted by all that knew him his funeral was respectfully attended by a numerous congregation was daily attended by his clergyman both his brothers were with him and saw him decently and respectfully burried in Rome it is a severe trial on his mother but she bears it with Christian fortitude."81 A similar sentiment is expressed by Johan George Erler, a German mason, who was grateful to Jacob Keefer for seeing to it that his son would have a proper funeral when he died accidentally in Upper Canada in 1830 and for the good account given of his son while living: "With tears & emotion of my heart, I read your moving description relating to the solemn funeral, creditable & nummerous [sic] attendance & decent interment of my dear deceased Charles. God bless you & all the benevolent persons, who did my son the honhour, to attend his remains, to the Burial Ground!"82The evidence thus suggests that funerals, although highly ritualized,

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were community and social events. Grief and mourning, on the other hand, were more private matters. GRIEF

Although Amedee Papineau's journal entry relating the death of his brother was not highly emotional, his feelings for his brother nonetheless came through. This was particularly evident when he wrote that he felt it was a privilege to be the last to watch over the body, and to do so alone. He saw this as one last service for his brother. That the emotional impact of this death on the Papineau family was great can be seen through the letters of other family members in the weeks that followed. Mary Westcott Papineau wrote to her father expressing her own grief: Altho we might have been prepared for this result, yet his having had three times before violent illnesses which had brought him quite as low - left us to hope 8c feel that he would ultimately recover & when we learned that all was over - & that he was indeed gone - it came to us as a sudden death &C affected us deeply. I have felt it far more than I should have thought I would, - but I was much attached to Gustave - & more especially since his illness here of five weeks last summer, when I had so much care of him night & day; he was so affectionate, and grateful for every kindness that I felt towards him almost as to an own dear brother - & he had talked to me so much of his future hopes & prospects, that I felt I should share in his success or disappointements.83

Mary also noted the sadness of others, especially the servant, old Marguerite: "a more sincere grief I never beheld. She will not believe it true & seems almost beside herself. & says she wishes she could die too ... no one will mourn his untimely end more sincerely."84 In a second letter, written just after Christmas, Mary described how their cousins came to dine with them at Christmas, but the thought of Gustave in his grave made them leave the dinner untouched and weep together over his sad fate. For the first time Mary spent New Year's Day with her husband, because they neither received nor made calls that year.8' Gustave's sister, Azelie, who was at Petite Nation with the family when he died, expressed anguish and confusion in a letter to Mary: "Oh, all this is horrible; half the time I think I am dreaming; and when I become conscious of the painful reality, how dreadful it is!" Most of all, she missed having Amedee and Mary there to talk to: Dearest Mary, what could we not do to have you and poor dear Amedee with us! Our tears would not be so bitter if we could shed them all together. This large

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house seems cold, mournful, since two among us are gone, for, poor Lactance, he is almost dead for us. And without you both to talk of them to us, we seem to be parted from every possible consolation which could relieve us a little. All this we could not bear, if we did not know that our dear Gustave is happier in Heaven than he could be on earth; that poor Lactance will most certainly receive some good effect from this change in his life; and finally we will try and shorten the distance that separate you from us by writing, all of us, frequently."86

By contrast, Julie Papineau, Gustave's mother, did not write to Mary until April, four months after the death. She had let her husband write instead. Having been to church frequently during Holy Week, she renewed her sorrow every time, kneeling on her son's grave. Rather than express her grief beyond saying this, she chose to distract herself from it by doing her duty towards her other children.87 Unlike these letters in which the family poured out their sorrow to those closest to them, James Westcott's letter to Amedee is a more formal condolence letter. These were common in this period and shared certain characteristics. They usually contained a religious discourse of consolation and drew also on the power of "memory, time, sympathy, and love to lessen the pain of loss."88 Although formulaic to some extent, they were an expression to the bereaved of the support and sympathy of their family, friends, and community and were appreciated as such. Because most people had had a personal experience of death in the family, they were often, like James Westcott, able to express their sympathy in a heartfelt and sincere way. He wrote to Amedee: I reed your truly sad missive announcing the decease of poor Gustave, after a world of pain & suffering I can assure you that Mrs. Westcott & myself, as well as the entire household, feel deep sympathy with you & the family at Little Nation in this affliction, how well I know the agony of parting with loved & cherished dear ones. I feel particularly for the isolated family at the Cape and fear that your dear Mother will find this affliction hard to bear, but to the truly pious (such as your mother) the consolations of religion are as balm to the bleeding heart Gustave dying strong in the Christian faith, will be a source of comfort to her in all time to come. I intend writing to your Father very soon.89

The close relationship between Susanna and John Moodie continued throughout their married life and ended with his death on 22 October 1869 at seventy-two years of age. He had been ill for some time, and she was happy he was spared a lingering, painful illness. Still she felt his loss tremendously, because it was as though she were losing part of herself. She expressed this in a letter to a friend: "The very esse of my

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life seems gone. I am no longer my former self, bearing in my bosom a twofold life, every thought centered to one point. It is a strange new feeling to feel so desolate and alone." Her husband had been the "chief object of [her] thoughts" in their last year together, and she did everything she could to care for him. "For him I painted, for him I wrote, and I now feel that my occupation is gone. That poor Susy is alone has no motive to live for herself."90 Grief over a death often resurfaced with anniversaries of the event. Years later, family members might remember this date together or privately note it in their diary. In a letter to her father, for example, Mary Westcott Papineau remembered the death of her brother: "I have not forgotten, dear Father that it is upon a sad anniversary that I am writing - And vividly do those mournful hours comes up before me - which took from us one we loved but too tenderly. - Dear Jimmy!" She followed this with a poem in which she says: "But thy memory is hallowed by look & sigh & tear / Altho thy name is seldom whispered my own lost Brother dear." She hoped they might die with the same "sweeth faith in Jesus" as he did.91 RELIGIOUS BELIEFS

How one faced death depended largely on religious beliefs. With few exceptions the people discussed here faced death from a Christian viewpoint. Thomas Anderson believed that his brother George's devotedness to that "abominable vice" (intemperance?) would keep him from entering the Kingdom of God. This concerned him enough to write him a long and serious letter, which his brother simply ignored. When his sister Nancy died, Thomas wrote to James Pringle: I am much comforted by your account of my sister Nancy oh what a blessed change for the profit of God. she is gone, as you justly observe, to that world from whence there is no return, and where you and I must, er many years, yes perhaps in a few days appear to give an account for the things down in the body, and may we my dear friend be of that number to whom the Lord will say "enter yee into the joy of the Lord." then shall we feel a happiness of which this world could give no adequate idea ... Death is a debt which human beings know, all nature must pay, and after death the judgment, but how few of us live as if it was our lot to die or as if we had to appear before a Judge who knows the secrets of every heart ... May the Lord of His infinite mercy enable us to be made most [?] partaking of His everlasting Kingdom.92

This letter focuses on religious beliefs to a much greater extent than most. The beliefs expressed here would have been shared by many,

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however. Because death could come at any time, one should be ready for it by living in accordance with God's laws. Most received comfort from the notion that their loved ones went to heaven when they died, and they hoped one day to be reunited with them. The religious motivation for going to heaven was thereby reinforced with the personal and emotional desire to be reunited with one's family for eternity. Mary Westcott Papineau reflected in a similar manner when faced with the sudden death of her cousin Louise: Affliction does certainly do us all good - for it cannot fail to bring us to serious thoughts - & to wean us from this life, 8c it seems to me that this has been sent for a wise purpose - "for they were sleeping over their idols." My dearest Father, I feel in constant fear lest God may thus speak to us - & I pray with a full heart that we may listen to his mercies - He has indeed been very merciful to me - for I am experiencing blessings I never thought would be mine - & I trust that it shall be in love & not in wrath that my soul shall be called to Christ - But in these things I feel more anxious to have you dear Father have an interest than even for myself - Oh! if I knew we were all true Christians how happy would life become.93

Parents, siblings, and children sometimes felt justified in reminding family members who "strayed" of their religious duty. Death brought such thoughts to the fore, especially for those who associated salvation with good behaviour. The hope that the family would be reunited in heaven underlies such concerns. For some this meant that the family had a responsibility to help other members achieve that salvation. Although the rituals surrounding death, especially the funeral, integrated the family with the community and brought some comfort to the grieving, religious beliefs and especially the hope for reunification in heaven played an important role in helping families cope with loss. The evidence from our sources is far from conclusive on the question of "domestic occasions." Certainly some families celebrated family life at special occasions such as Christmas and birthdays. Many more such events seem to have passed with little notice. But this does not mean that Canadians did not celebrate, as the following chapter shows. Rather, it seems that many of their festivities and leisure activities were more traditional or social in nature than the domestic occasions such as Thanksgiving that were beginning to emerge in the United States. The reasons for this may be related to the presence of a large Catholic population that maintained many traditional celebrations in Lower Canada, and the pioneering and pre-industrial conditions that persisted in Upper Canada through much of this period.

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Family Sociability

The extent to which families in the nineteenth century socialized with neighbours, friends, and kin is startling at first view. Whether urban or rural, their homes were the site of constant coming and going. Although the elite followed formal rules of calling etiquette, less formal visits between kin also took place. Extended visits were not unusual and could range from a few weeks to several months. As well, families and groups of friends entertained and joined each other to attend community events. Although much of this rich social life appears to have been focused on leisure activities, it was through these social contacts that families created the networks they needed in times of crisis. Visiting for the purpose of helping neighbours and kin (discussed further in chapter 11) was also very important.

NEW YEAR'S AND OTHER CALLS In elite circles, calling followed strict rules that served a gatekeeping function. Katherine McKenna's study of the elite group in Upper Cana: da in which Mrs Powell circulated shows that such formalities existed in the colonial context and that access to elite social circles was important for the advancement of political careers.1 Formal calling practices were certainly followed by the elites of both Montreal and Quebec,1 and there is evidence that even in rural areas, the elite maintained the conventions of calling. The phrases "I called on Mrs X" or "Mrs X called," commonly used in this period, however, seem rather much of the time to have denoted what we would refer to as "visiting." Perhaps the most important calls of the year were those made at New Year's. Calling on family and friends on this day, common to both Upper and Lower Canada, seems to have been traditional rather than the product of rules of etiquette. Generally men made the calls while women stayed home to receive them.3 This was an important social

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obligation, although most people enjoyed it. The custom may have called for a New Year's kiss from the ladies, but only Edmund Antrobus specifically mentions this: "Drove over to Berthier ... and called to see Dr & Mrs Barbier ... Elizabeth would not kiss me, but her sister did. Eliza gave us some delicious cream cherry."4 Like others with a large social acquaintance, his rounds continued into the New Year for several days, until all the required visits had been made. Susanna Moodie described this custom to a friend in 1854: You must know, that New Year's day is a great day in Canada. You must keep open house that day, and be dressed up to receive all who choose to come to eat cake and drink wine, tea or coffee with you. The gentlemen go round in their sleighs to wish the females in every house, (in their own class) the returns of the season. The bell and knockers are going from morning till night, and the bitterest enemies shake hands and meet on friendly terms. I like this custom. It is so hearty, and savours of the good old times.5

For someone unfamiliar with the custom, however, it could appear as a daunting task, especially for a new bride who did not know all the people in her social circle well. This was the situation Mary Westcott Papineau faced in 1847 with some trepidation: I cannot say that I look forward to the first day of the year with any happy anticipations - for it will come but to impose upon me most tedious duties which I feel as if I would give much could I escape them - The reception of so many people, entirely alone, - is far from pleasant, and especially as I do not remember some of the names of many who have called on me upon my arrival here. Mother Papineau does not receive this year as she is in black for the death of her sister - and sister Ezilda is too timid to be of any comfort to me in getting thro this troublesome fashion - It lasts three or four days, and is surely a good penence for the whole year!6

As it turned out, Mary did not receive because of a bad cold, but her husband, Amedee, spent the day making calls.7 For him the practice was one he had been accustomed to following before his marriage, and in his view it was a pleasant tradition that was being preserved. Visits were not necessarily long, and many must have consisted of simply leaving a card. In 1845, for example, Amedee made more than one hundred calls between n A.M. and 6 P.M. Usually he was accompanied by his father, brother, or a cousin. 8 In subsequent years Mary would find this custom less difficult, but she would never be really comfortable entertaining without her husband beside her. Although she dreaded it in 1848, for example, she relaxed once it started and met some

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interesting people. That year she would continue to receive calls for two days after New Year's.9 Several years later, sharing the task with her sister-in-law Azelie, she even enjoyed it. On the third day, however, they went out themselves rather than stay home to receive.10 Despite her personal feelings about this practice, Mary recognized that it made a difference in the nature of society. Writing to her father she noted: It is an especially good thing in such a place as Saratoga, where married gentlemen seem but distant wings of society to be called in upon emergency, (as in parties & tea fights) - but who never dream of making calls throughout the year with their wives - , nor even call upon their stronger friends. - Amedee found it amazing politeness in the gentlemen, when not one, out of the family, save the chancellor - not even Mr Chester, called or even sent a card. This seems very strange to me as here the gentlemen are considered a part of society. - 8c if business men - they run the risk of one day's leisure to make necessary visits. I think if there was more frequent calling in Saratoga, the society would be more social, & less formal by far."11

When Abraham Joseph first moved to Quebec, he felt that New Year visits were less important there than in Montreal. He had made eightytwo visits the previous year in Montreal, and only thirty-one in 1838 in Quebec. This was undoubtedly because he had not been there long, however, and the number of his calls would rise considerably - to ninety-three in 1849, three years after his marriage. After this he often called on more than one hundred people. In 1861, after 139 calls, he still had failed to return twenty-three. In 1838 he carefully noted in his journal the names of those he had called on, adding an "x" for those who were not at home and a checkmark for those calls that were returned." The next few years he counted his calls and mentioned only some. By 1841 he was beginning to have a system. On New Year's Day he left at 12:30 P.M. "with list & cards in hand to pay the usual visits." He managed only thirty-six visits the first day because he was continually meeting people, and "you must say a few words after exchanging usual compliments." He listed and numbered these visits in his journal with short comments: "Miss Susan looking very well"; "Miss C. seemed surprised to see me - said she was not aware I was in Quebec - not having seen me for so long a period"; "I left cards at both places." The second day he paid a dozen or so visits to customers before going on with his list. He therefore clearly distinguished between social calls to equals and those to business associates. He made only eleven more calls that day. The third day he continued with

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Fig. io.i Page from Abraham Joseph's diary, showing the first day of his New Year's calls in 1850. NAC €-148891.

his visits after lunch, including return calls to those who called on him. This brought his total number of calls to sixty. He was unable to return those of two gentlemen, having only received them the third day.13 The consistency with which Abraham continued to record his New Year's calls (fig. 10.1) through to 1866, even in years when he had otherwise neglected to keep his journal regularly, indicates the significance he placed on this annual ritual.14 Some years his record-keeping was quite complex, as he noted those in mourning or with no gentleman to return calls, those not at home or not receiving, and those where he left a card without enquiring if they were home, as well as calls returned and calls not returned. Although these calls were formal and had to be kept very short in order to make as many as possible in

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one day, they took on great symbolic significance as social acquaintances were recognized through this process. A call made the first day of the New Year, for example, carried more weight than one made later. William Douglas had difficulty with the practice in 1863, the year he was courting Jane Hudson. He wrote that he made about a dozen calls New Year's Day, then stopped because there was no fun in it. He had promised to go to four places the following day, however.15 It is not clear why he did not enjoy himself that year, but it may simply be because he would have preferred Jane's company to that of the people he had to visit. Others seem to have embraced this custom more readily. Eleanora Hallen wrote in her diary: "A great many people called, it being the custom here. George went to town with some of the other young men to call."16 John Wells simply noted in his diary that he and a friend had made a few calls in i86z.17 Status or class clearly affected the significance and especially the number of these calls. For most of the lower middle class, they may have involved a few courtesy calls to superiors, but generally they would have been made to family and friends. For the elite, however, it also meant making and receiving calls from a wider circle of acquaintances, some out of respect or duty rather than friendship. One could not neglect making these calls because of their significance in maintaining social connections. The status of both the Papineau family and of Abraham Joseph, whose relations and friends already made up a very large social circle, meant that they would receive and make many more calls than most others. Maintaining one's social status required participating fully in this ritual. PRIVATE ENTERTAINMENT AND PARTIES

The New Year marked the beginning of a season of entertainment that continued through the winter in all circles. Balls were by far the most important social events in both this and other seasons. The most brilliant of these were subscription balls held by the military officers,18 New Year's and other balls hosted or attended by the governor, and balls to honour visiting royalty (see fig. 10.3). There were also Saint Andrew's balls,19 debutante balls, and all manner of private balls. Cities with garrisons and those that were the seat of government had a more lively social scene than provincial towns, but they had no monopoly on balls. Chatham could support a ball for the coming out of over one hundred debutantes in the i86os.10 In the village of Frelighsburg in the Eastern Townships, the Reverend Reid complained: "to the Scandal and Shame of Churchmen, there is a Ball at Levi Kemp's in this

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Village," an event made more grievous by the fact that it was the first Friday of Lent.11 Generally Lent put an end to festivities, at least temporarily. "Quebec does not want much for gaiety at present," wrote the Jewish merchant Abraham Joseph, but "Lent is fast approaching when again all will be quiet. "22 Being present in the city for the social season was especially important to young ladies hoping to attract a husband. Because of their uncle's connections, fur trader Miles MacdonelPs daughters were invited "to attend balls, Bouls, & evening Parties" given by "Genl Drummond's Lady, Mrs. McGillivray & others." The expense added to Macdonell's debts and he had to ask his brother to allow him to pay an account of "upwards of £90 to pay ... for Dresses,"23 but his grumbling about it does not appear to have been serious. The Felton family of Sherbrooke spent a considerable amount of time at Quebec for similar reasons. Their friend Lucy Peel commented in her letter home: "Mr Felton paid at the Albion, at Quebec for two months lodging and board for five of them, and they were scarcely ever at home to dinner, one hundred and twenty pounds, every public amusement was 5/ each, so I think his daughter's introductions were no trifle to him."24 The cost of attending public balls and the need to be invited to private ones effectively limited these events to the elite. Nonetheless, the governor on occasion encouraged a broader attendance, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the elite. Lucy Peel saw this in political terms: "His Lordship gave a Ball at which were Canadian persons who had never been heard of before in good society; how it will end I know not."25 For Robert Hoyle, member of the Legislative Assembly from Lacolle, Lower Canada, attendance at the New Year's Ball hosted by the governor at Quebec in 1833, to which "a very general invitation was given," was clearly a special occasion. He described the event in detail to his wife, Eliza. Those in attendance included judges, councillors, legislative members, civil and military officers, heads of departments, and merchants with their wives and daughters. At 10 P.M. the governor with his ladyship on his arm entered the room while the band played "God Save the King." After moving through the room her ladyship was seated on a sofa with her husband standing beside her and a number of people were introduced to them. Shortly after this the dancing began, led by the Honorable Colonel Maitland and her ladyship. "I can assure you, there was a display of wit, Beauty & Fashion," Robert wrote. He took up a position in the front row of those not dancing: "with my Pumps, Blk silk stockings white cravat I looked as smart as I could. I did not forget that I was a M.P.P. and assure you, I felt much at ease." As there was not room to seat everyone, the couples marched around or walked in between dances. He added: "I felt vain enough to think, if my wife was here, I

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should not be the least ashamed of her or, to march around the room with her, for I really think yr appearance would have done me a little credit."26 Both his statements of being at ease and of not being ashamed, however, suggest he did not feel completely in his element. The balls of the post-Rebellion period were perhaps even more magnificent than those given earlier. Ball dresses were certainly more elaborate than at the turn of the century. This can be seen if one compares the rather simple dresses shown in Heriot's 1801 Dance in the Chateau St Louis (fig. 10.2) with the elaborate ball costumes shown in the Canadian Illustrated News in 1869 and 1870 (figs. 10.3 and 10.4). Mary Westcott Papineau's description of a ball attended by Lord Elgin given on the feast of Saint Catherine,27 on 24 November 1847 in Montreal paints a vivid picture of glamour. The highlight of the evening for her was the great honour of dancing with Lord Elgin's brother. This resulted in a host of introductions, including some from those who were prejudiced against the Papineau family and introduced themselves only to her, not to her husband. With the garrison in full uniform and plumes, satins, velvets, and laces floating everywhere, it was a "brilliant affair." 28 The same event in 1848 was equally dazzling, and the attendance of Governor and Lady Lampton and Lord and Lady Bruce was noteworthy.29 Saint-Jean-Baptiste Day celebrations in Montreal in 1846 ended in a large ball in the new market building where a "brilliant assembly" gathered.30 Military officers, prominently on display at such occasions, played an important role in the social life of the elite. Many of the young ladies in Montreal were "admirers of the military," which Abraham Joseph described as a "prevalent disease" there.31 The same was true in Quebec and elsewhere. Lucy Peel commented: "Mrs Pelton & Fanny called yesterday, they say Quebec is full of officers and very gay, there are three Frigates there."32 At the upper echelons of society the military mixed socially with both the French and the English population, although they were less accepted in the rural French environment.33 When he was single, Abraham Joseph attended many such events. He attended the Countess of Durham's first "Drawing room" in Quebec, along with some four hundred others including "160 ladies who were introduced to her Ladyship - the gentlemen making their bow only and passing on. "34 Even private parties among the elite could be quite large. When Amedee and Mary Papineau organized an evening of dancing and a supper in their first residence in January 1850, their invitation list consisted of one hundred guests, eighty of whom actually attended. The evening did not end until 2 A.M.35 Catherine Joseph David's ball in the

Fig. 10.2 George Heriot, Dance in the Chateau St Louis, 1801. NAC c-4o. Young and old and even a dog are shown enjoying this dance. The empire style costumes of the period are much simpler than those worn at mid-century.

Fig. 10.3 Montreal Garrison Artillery Ball, under the Patronage ofH.R.H. Prince Arthur, 27 November 1869, Canadian Illustrated News, vol. i, no. 4, 56. NAC €-48551, National Library, 814. Many balls, like this one, were grand affairs with hundreds in attendance.

Fig. 10.4 Ball Toilettes, 5 February 1870, Canadian Illustrated News, vol. i, no. 14, Z2.0. NAC 0-48669, National Library, 92.9. Ball gowns were always expensive and by mid-century were also very elaborate.

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Fig. 10.5 Joseph Family Members, Fancy Dress Costumes, about 1875. Notman Photographic Archives, MP-i983.63.4~i3, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal. The Joseph family moved in the elite circles of Montreal and Quebec where they attended numerous balls and social functions. This family album page shows Abraham Joseph's children and their friends in fancy dress costumes.

spring of 1838 had about z$o persons present.36 After his marriage, Abraham Joseph usually gave at least one party or ball a year. Those who were invited, those who accepted, those who came, and those who did not were carefully recorded in his journal in much the same way as his New Year's calls. Once his children were old enough, he threw parties for them as well (see fig. 10.5). Pleasure excursions in the summer and sleighing parties in winter, combined with a meal and dancing, were popular forms of entertainment. Montmorency Falls near Quebec and Niagara Falls were both favoured destinations. Tobogganing, skating and snowshoeing were also enjoyed (see figs. 10.6-10.10). Summer excursions from Quebec on a steamer might have 2.50 to 300 people on board.37 Picnics were organized regularly, but these were by invitation and for smaller groups. Abraham Joseph describes a picnic to "Indian Lauret," organized similarly to the winter sleighing parties as a day excursion from Quebec City on 15 August 1837. Abraham's required contribution was almonds and raisins and tea cakes. Fewer people attended than he

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expected, but he nonetheless named eighteen people other than himself. They dined around z P.M., walked around the village and viewed the falls, and had tea and coffee at 5:30 P.M. The festivities were cut short by rain, and Abraham was thoroughly soaked on the way home. After a change of clothes, he joined friends for an evening of whist and socializing, followed by supper at n P.M. They finished the evening, which included a great number of toasts and songs, with "Rule Britannia" and "God Save the Queen," and he returned to his room around 3 A.M.38 William Douglas described a sleighing party on Lake Erie in 1861, followed by a supper and dance in Chatham, involving twenty or more couples. As a young lawyer just establishing his practice, William felt that he had to attend such functions and pay due court to the local ladies. He claimed, however, that he despised parties, never danced, and would have preferred to stay home and write to his fiancee in Toronto.39 John Wells was invited to similar functions in Ingersoll. He doesn't seem to have found this burdensome, but he nonetheless refers to both himself and a friend being "bullied" into standing up for a quadrille at "an evening party" at the McCaugheys'. He also noted that most of the "upper ten" were there.40 The Reverend Bell of Perth was somewhat critical of the propensity for entertainment shared by former half-pay officers who formed the gentry of that village: "In this way they often indulged far beyond their means and were generally in debt. The civilians fired by the ambitions of their military neighbours gave their parties too, and all thought that every winter a ball must be given. Then there were several public subscription balls on the evening of St George's, St Andrew's, St. Patrick's Day."41 At private functions, the guest list would have been created with care. As Katherine McKenna's study of the Powell family has shown, the elite could be insistent on maintaining strict boundaries to their social group on the basis of respectability by declining invitations to functions attended by the wrong parties.42 Private entertainments thus encouraged the establishment and maintenance of class boundaries in contrast to public events that tended to draw communities together regardless of class. From the timing of these parties, it is clear that many were held at New Year's or shortly thereafter in January and February.43 Most involved dancing and provided opportunities for the young to get to know one another as family and friends mixed. Amedee Papineau's first New Year in Canada after his exile was marked by what seems like an almost frantic social calendar. On 31 December and again i January, he danced at his Aunt Dessaulles'. On 6 January, the feast of the Epiphany (Les Rois), they had cake and dancing. He attended a ball

Fig. 10.6 James Peachey, A Winter View of the Falls of Montmorency (Quebec/Quebec), 12, April 1781. NAC 02.019. The falls were a popular destination for winter excursions throughout the period and a favourite scene for artists to paint.

Fig. 10.7 R.G.A. Levinge, The "43^ Light Infantry" As They "Turn Out" in Their Sleighs at the "Falls of Niagara," 1839. NAC €-4983. Officers played an important role in the social life of garrison towns.

Fig. 10.8 Mary Millicent Chaplin, Coasting down the Ice Cone (Quebec), 1842. NAC 0-836. Part of the fun at Montmorency Falls was climbing the cone and tobogganing down, as shown here in a page from Chaplin's album for the years 1838 to 1842.

Fig. 10.9 James Duncan, Descente en luge a Montreal, 1868. Watercolours and graphite on paper, 15.3 x 23.5 cm. Collection Musee du Quebec, no. 86.31 (photographer, Patrick Altman). In this charming winter scene, Duncan shows whole families, including their dog, tobogganing down the slope of the mountain in Montreal.

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Fig. 10.10 Henry James Warre, Sleighing in the Country and Sleighing in the City of Montreal (My Sleigh) (Quebec), March i84Z. NAC 02,3073. Sleighing made travel so much easier, given the poor condition of many roads, that people anxiously waited for "good sleighing" to travel. Sleighing conditions were often commented upon in diaries and letters.

on 9 January at the home of a friend with over fifty others. On 10 January they danced until z A.M. Supper followed, and Amedee did not get to bed until 4:30 A.M. On n January there was a great ball at his Aunt Dessaulles' beginning at 6:30 P.M., with a supper at n P.M. The dance continued until four in the morning, but in spite of that Amedee had to get up to leave at nine. Four carriages from Saint-Hyacinthe then left for Saint-Denis where the visiting and partying continued. He spent the evening of 13 January at a friend's house with dancing and music. The next day, a Sunday, started with attendance at mass but was followed with visiting and a party of three sleighs going out in the afternoon. There was dancing and music again that evening. On 15 January Amedee left for Verchere alone to go visit his uncle, the priest, and others. While he visited extensively, there were no dances while there. When he returned to Montreal, however, his friends tried to convince him to join them to go to a ball at Boucherville. He was tired and had to say no. The following day being 19 January, he began his New Year's visits in Montreal and continued them over the next two days.

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A few days later he returned to Saint-Hyacinthe to see his mother and brother who were ill. His entire month was therefore spent in socializing with large groups of family and friends.44 Although Amedee belonged to an elite social circle, the focus on social activities at this time of the year was not exclusive to this group. Frances Tweedie's diary for 1868, when she was single and eighteen years of age, gives a sense of the fast pace of the middle class social round in January and February and of the light-heartedness of the revellers. On Wednesday, 9 January, they went skating for the first time. The following Monday they went to an opera. On Tuesday, zz January, they had an oyster supper to which an aunt and uncle came specially and stayed until the following Monday. The next few weeks were a little quieter, but on zo February Frances attended a "spree" and did not come home from this party until 7:30 A.M. She slept all day until it was time to go out for the evening and was out until midnight. After sleeping part of the next day, she went to another party and dance that evening. The twenty-four guests partied until 4 A.M. The next day Frances slept till noon and was tired.45 The following year was much the same. Frances's brothers went to a dance on New Year's Eve, but she seems to have stayed home. Various visitors came on New Year's Day, and in the evening they had a "jolly time singing and carrying on greatly." On 3 January she went to a dance attended by a load of people from Whitby and Clearwater. The following Wednesday they had a large dinner party at which she and her sister Kate carved two geese. On Friday 10 January, she was out again but claimed to be tired of sprees. That Monday they had visitors for their oyster supper, which was disappointing for an unspecified reason. On Wednesday night, 2.6 February, she went to the theatre. The following evening was a "soiree" at home, well attended despite stormy weather. She went to the theatre again the next two nights in succession.46 One can see from Frances's diary that the social pace in her circle was similar to that in the Papineaus'. Dancing was a popular form of entertainment in many circles. Miss Eleanor Hallen of Medonte, after attending a party just after Christmas in 1840, wrote: "we played all sorts of games and danced and the supper was very good. We all decided we had enjoyed ourselves very much."47 Not all parties were formal affairs with proper decorum. When women were not present, men might allow themselves more latitude in behaviour. Abraham Joseph describes one of these gatherings as "a frolic-ing party." It was attended by fifteen to eighteen young fellows, almost all "wild ones," who played cards and sang songs until three in the morning.48

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Once young people became engaged or married, their interest in dances or parties might wane. This is hardly surprising, since parties were clearly opportunities to meet potential suitors. Jane Van Norman, a teacher at the Burlington Academy who had recently become engaged, reflected this change in attitude when she chose to stay home to write to her fiance on an evening when her friends had gone out: This you are aware is the season for partying among our citizens. I do not intend to go to any if I can possibly help myself, for several important reasons. Although it will be something new in my history. To spend a winter session without attending any parties I hope I shall not give offence to any of my friends. The first & least important reason is I do not wish to go & the next is I have too much to occupy my time, & last but not least to keep out of difficulty, for I have never attended parties & formed acquaintances, as I must necessarily do without getting some one or more & consequently myself into difficulty. I find the less I have to say &C do with the gentlemen (my own dear one excepted) the better.49

The busy social activity in January remained evident in Amedee Papineau's journal after he married, but his attitude also changed. He was often content to stay home if he could. Invited to one dance in the country, he suggested that one would have to be crazy in the extreme for dancing to go a distance of forty miles into the country in winter when so much entertainment was available in the city.50 Private parties, whether small or large, thus provided a place where one could get together with existing friends as well as enlarge one's circle of acquaintances within the same social group. But we must not forget that they were also for entertainment. People got together to enjoy themselves especially in the one season of the year when work was not quite so pressing. C O M M U N I T Y EVENTS Community events were also important for family social interaction with neighbours and friends. Like private parties, such events were especially significant for young people as they provided opportunities to get to know each other. In such family and group outings they could develop friendships which would remain with them through life, and in some cases, might meet someone they might later decide to court. Circuses, picnics, and fairs were looked forward to with excitement. Because they happened rarely, they drew crowds, and especially children. William Douglas wrote that he found the arrival of the circus

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interesting in a small town like Chatham because of the country people's reactions. Children and even older women all lined the streets and called after the performers.51 When a great menagerie came to Picton, Mary Call let everyone else go, because "when boys and girls work well they should have some indulgence," and stayed home herself to keep an eye on things.51 In the span of a summer Ann Wrong went to the Alymer picnic53 and a menagerie at Vienna.54 William Lane went to Milford to see a ventriloquist show and his family went the next day.55 Frances Tweedie also attended several such events with her family and friends in 1867. Following the circus on the evening of 2.9 June the Confederation celebrations the next day included the calvary, a review and fireworks, warranting a diary entry that began "Eventful Day."56 The local fair seemed of even greater importance, however, and Frances attended several times with friends. Visiting and attending the fair were the only activities she recorded for a period of five days.57 Even a work-related event like a cattle show, when it was mixed with socializing, was a pleasant outing.58 Fairs and circuses usually came around only once a year. The remainder of the year, community events might tend more to concerts, lectures, magic-lantern shows, and theatre. In Ingersoll where he taught school in i86z, John Wells attended a number of such events, often in the company of a friend or of one of the local ladies: "Went with Mrs. Ollard to hear Lecture from Lachlam Taylor on Holy Land etc John & I home together."59 The next day a magic-lantern show was given at the schoolhouse by an old schoolfellow of a friend. Later in the month he went with John to a lecture by a Mr Stephenson on "Political integrity the foundation of national greatness," and they stopped in at another friend's afterward. In October he went to hear a "nigger melody at Town Hall" and in November heard "an amateur concert by the Philharmonic Society for the Lancashire operatives."60 In both Upper and Lower Canada, horse racing was popular.61 In 1849 Amedee and Mary Papineau went to the races in SaintHyacinthe, along with eight or more family members. They attended for two days running but spent the evening with the family ("en veillee de famille"). Several of them also made a side excursion to a mineral spring and visited with other family members. Upon reflection, however, they decided they would not be in a hurry to repeat the experiment. The races themselves were of little interest (insipide) and were such a source of "wagers, bets, intemperance, quarrels and vices of all sorts, that it was inconceivable that anyone of good breeding and intelligence would find the slightest pleasure in them or encourage them by their presence. We had enough of them."61 In this reaction Amedee may

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have been influenced by his wife's sensibilities more than his own. The Westcott family had signed a pledge of temperance in 1847,63 and Mary, with her Presbyterian background, may have been less tolerant of gambling and drinking than her husband. Amedee had last attended races in 1840 before he was married and at that time presumably did not find them objectionable. The ability of young men to engage in less respectable activities without danger to their respectability later in life has been commented upon for late nineteenth' century Ontario by Lynn Marks,64 and a similar situation seems to be at work here. Unfortunately, we do not know how the other family members responded, but since several couples made up the party attending the races, this reaction may have been specific to Amedee and Mary Papineau. The norms of the middle class, like those of the clergy, were often ignored by large numbers of people, especially when an activity was as popular as this one. Winter carnivals and sailing regattas in the summer65 were other forms of entertainment available in some communities. Mary Westcott Papineau describes a winter trip to Saint Helen's Island to watch a sham bombardment of a huge snow fort. Wrapped up in buffalo robes, they sat and watched very comfortably from a distance of about two hundred yards. Cannons were fired and the air filled with smoke. All the regular movements of war were enacted in a display lasting about an hour and a half. They left with the cheers of the conquerors ringing in the clear air. Mary enjoyed it very much and thought the account in the Herald which she sent her father insufficiently "glowing."66 Fairs, circuses, public lectures, sermons by visiting ministers, concerts, and theatre performances in both small and large communities in Upper and Lower Canada drew from a wider circle of the population than the exclusive private entertainment of the elite. What is common to both public and private events, however, is that people tended to participate as a family group or as larger groups of family and friends. Some of these groups would have consisted exclusively of young people, but often they were mixed as to age. This social interaction integrated members of the family into a wider circle of relatives and friends within their own social milieu. This was particularly important for young people, since it was in this context that most found their eventual mates. VISITING

The term "visiting" is used here for social interaction between close friends and kin that was less formal than calling. In New England, visiting did not mean that work stopped. Women brought their knitting

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or simple sewing with them.67 Although only Eliza Bellamy mentioned this specifically (see p. 2 3 2 ) ,a similar pattern undoubtedly existed in the Canadas. The rules of visiting were less strict within the family than outside it, and members clearly dropped in on one another quite readily. While her husband was away, Susanna Moodie had a quiet social life, but that did not exclude visits to and from her sister's family. Catharine Traill then lived nearby, and although their visits are seldom mentioned in Susanna's letters, they must have been frequent. This is evident from the fondness of her children for their Aunt Catharine, and Susanna's loneliness once the Traills moved further away. "The dear Traills are gone - I am doubly lonely now. Many tears have I shed for their removal, we have been on such happy terms all winter. They have been so kind to me especially poor Traill. One knows not the value of a friend till one is left alone in this weary world. The poor children quite fret about their good Aunt."68 Reine Duvernay and her sister, Marguerite, while in "exile" in Riviere du Loup, also had a limited social life, for a number of reasons. Reine was frequently ill, and in her last months there, also pregnant. And even when she was well, the children were often sick and needed care, leaving little time for calling. Reine and Marguerite also lacked the funds to keep up with social fashion or to reciprocate hospitality. There are few references to visiting or calling in either woman's letters, and at one point Reine says that they never went out except for church.69 But clearly they did some socializing, since they mention various people in their letters. Some of these contacts might well have been at the parish church on Sunday. There were also likely some visits that would not have been considered going "out" since they were to people considered part of their inner circle, even if they did not reside in the same house. These would include Reine's aging parents and "chez Oncle Chalon." Although there are no direct references to visiting these family members, every letter to Duvernay includes greetings from them, and often a short report on their health such as the following: "[O]ur poor old father has aged a lot he cries each time we tell him we have gotten letters from you if you knew how kind they all are to us our poor mother is very sick we hope it will be nothing, chez Oncle Chalon sends their compliments."70 This suggests they were in frequent contact, as do many other similar references. Outside the family they also seemed to visit old family friends, the Garceau family and a Mme Tellier. Since Mme Garceau remembered Ludger Duvernay as a young lad, she had obviously known the family a long time. This familiarity is confirmed by Marguerite's reference to her by her given name, an extremely rare practice for those outside

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close kin.71 Mme Tellier was also often mentioned and sent her greetings to Duvernay. They must have visited with her as well, since Marguerite wrote at one point that they had lost their friend Mme Tellier who had been in Quebec for a month.71 When she returned, they reported the news received from her that the steamboat the Charlevoix was out of order.73 Not going out, then, meant not socializing in a wider social context but limiting one's visits to the inner circle of family and close friends. Eliza Bellamy's diary provides us with a much more extensive example of socializing between kin, in part because her situation was much different. Eliza Amelia Giff Keays, a widow with two children, Eliza and William, had married Samuel J. Bellamy, a widower with six children (John Blanchard, Archibald Wait, Luther Hall, Abigail, Nancy Ann, and Mary Ann)74 8 September 1837. The two families were successfully merged.75 Samuel had come to Canada from Vergennes, Vermont, in 1819 along with three of his brothers, Edward, Hiram, and Chauncey [Chancy]. The four-hundred-acre lot of land Samuel had purchased in the 8th concession of Augusta Township included water privileges on the South Branch of the Rideau River. He added a grist mill, the first in the township, to the existing sawmill. The village that emerged at this site was known as Bellamy's Mills and Bellamysville before it became officially known as North Augusta in i84o.76 Samuel Bellamy was postmaster there from 1841 to iSyo.77 At the time of her diary writing in 1854-55, Eliza Bellamy was fiftysix years of age. Four of Samuel's children were already married.78 Eliza's daughter, Eliza Amelia Keays (Keayes), had married Isaiah Wright on 2.3 June i846.79 Her son William had already moved away and was married in 1855. Mary Ann Bellamy also married in 1855 and moved to Prescott with her husband, James Dowling of Elizabethtown.80 This meant that Luther Hall was the only child left at home.81 Samuel's widowed sister, Parmelia Smith, was frequently in residence, although she also made extended visits back to Vergennes.82- Samuel's brother Edward now lived in the Township of Ramsey, Chauncey had moved to the Township of Yonge, and Hiram had died in i84z, leaving his interests to his son and namesake.83 Although Samuel and Eliza's household was now much smaller than it had been, their kinship network had expanded as their children married and had children of their own. Just over a year of Eliza's diary has survived, so that we are able to see quite clearly the rhythm of her activities, including visiting. Although most of the people she refers to as calling or called upon were kin, visiting with friends was also an important part of every week. There was perhaps less of a difference between summer and winter

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than for young people, but when they had extra men in the house and the sawmill was busy, there was not as much time for visiting. Eliza's diary makes many references to Bellamy kin. Of those who lived in or near North Augusta, nephew Hiram Bellamy and John Bellamy were mentioned most, wheareas John's wife Margaret, "Arch's family," Nancy Walker, and John and Luther Raskins were mentioned less frequently. Aunt Smith is often mentioned, but Eliza does not seem to have been particularly fond of Samuel's sister, Parmelia. Other kin lived further away but came occasionally to visit, especially around the time of Mary Ann's wedding. Uncle Chauncey visited on three occasions, once with his son.84 Another Hiram Bellamy from Ramsey visited at Christmas and again in March.85 Edward Bellamy was there in October, on his way back from the United States, and again in February with his wife, Charlotte, for Mary Ann's wedding.86 The following entry is an example of some of these visits: "[YJesterday afternoon [Friday] Maryan and F[ather] went to John Bellamy's immediately after tea, Hiram Bellamy from Ramsey drove to the door for Mayan and I to go home, his wife and her sister being at our house, we did so, I helped the girl to get tea, after which the young folks went to the singing school, after they returned the sang and played till I was tired and went to bed, the news of yesterday, Mrs. H. Bellamy had a Daughter."87 Although visiting with various members of the Bellamy family was an almost daily occurrence, visits from and to Eliza's own daughter, Eliza Wright, who lived on a farm a few miles from North Augusta, seemed to hold special significance. While Eliza's visits were frequent, they were restricted by the fact that she had no way of getting there herself, except for one time when she walked. It was usually only in the evening that she could get her husband to drive her over, or that she could get a ride over with her son-in-law, Isaiah. She therefore often stayed the night, returning the next evening. She mentions twelve such overnight or two-day visits to Eliza in her diary. Eliza and Isaiah, with all or some of the children, also visited her quite frequently, often for dinner or for tea.88 Isaiah seems to have dropped in whenever he came to the village, even if just to let them know that all was well. Having her daughter near her was a source of great satisfaction to Eliza, and when this was threatened by Isaiah's desire to move to Goderich, she was very disturbed. One of the few entries that deals with her feelings is in response to this possibility: [W]ith a troubled mind I now write, my dear children are about to be seperated from me in this world, they are packing their things to go to Godrich, how shall I part them la[s]t Thursday I went with Father to the siree my heart was

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heavy when I thought I must so soon part with my children all pass'd off well, next day went with Luther to Isaiah, staid till Sunday. Father came for me they had almost given up going this morning received a letter from my dear Eliza, saying, they had decided on going, to thee my Heavenly Father I commend them—Father gon to Prescott on Bowlings business.89

The place that visiting occupied in Eliza Bellamy's seasonal and weekly rhythms varied. On a week in January we find that on Sunday she was at home and spent most of the day reading, but the servant being away, she had to cook dinner. On Monday she performed her usual duties. There was nothing remarkable on Tuesday, but on Wednesday she went to visit her daughter Eliza with her son Luther and returned in the afternoon. Mrs Lyman and Nancy Walker (her step-daughter) called on them to go to the division meeting, but she did not go. On the Thursday, Eliza Whealy spent the afternoon. There were no further visits the remainder of the week. This was therefore a fairly quiet week, with only two afternoons devoted to visiting.90 During the week of 18 June, Eliza had time for only one entry. Monday was not mentioned and must have been duties as usual. On Tuesday evening she went to Eliza's, returning with Isaiah on Wednesday evening. On Thursday, Nancy Walker stayed to dinner. On Saturday Eliza went to the funeral of a boy who had died of scarlet fever, prevalent among many children in the area. This was also a fairly quiet week socially. Other times saw more coming and going. Some of the visiting combined work with socializing. For example: "Halloweve, Miss Beath, with others were here to [sew?] past a plesant evening."91 Eliza often dropped in on friends herself, especially when they were not well. Even on her way home after several days tending to her granddaughter, for example, she stopped to see Mrs Bissel, who had broken her arm.92 Mrs Burwash seems to have been a particularly good friend as she was mentioned frequently until the family moved from North Augusta. When she came back for a visit in May, Eliza called on her, and two days later Mrs Burwash and others had tea with her.93 Elizabeth Whealy also seems to have been a close friend. Eliza helped to deliver her baby, and they visited back and forth several times, not just calling but spending time together.94 When ministers or preachers came to North Augusta, they seemed to have stayed with the Bellamys. Some, like the Reverend Chambers, whose wife and son also visited Eliza, might have been friends,95 but others like the Jewish preacher were just passing through.9* Visitors also dropped in on Eliza's husband. Sometimes she would come home to find Samuel chatting with one or two friends. Combined

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with the many visits with family and kin, this could result in a busy social life: [F]ine morning now storm Rhoda went home this morning with Luther I shall miss her company, yesterday a host of visiters Mrs. Chamers and Son with Miss Hulbert and J Blanchard, to dinner, afternoon Isaiah, Eliza and Emily Dr. Scofield, wife, and Mrs Hummel Isaiah did not stop to tea ... this afternoon, went to Walkers with Mrs. Chambers staid to tea home with J. and Margrett. Sabbath, did not go to church, Father and I went to Isaiah', they had been to Prescott with the Doctor saw Maryan, took tea and home.97

Through frequent visiting, the Bellamy family maintained a kinship network extending over a considerable geographical area and three generations. Family life included interaction with a large number of kin and not just with the members of the nuclear family still in residence. The links between the Bellamy siblings as well as between Eliza and Samuel and their children remained strong. If contact between some of them diminished, it was because of circumstances. Eliza enjoyed having her daughter live nearby and would have missed her if she had gone to Goderich. In the end, she and Isaiah decided to stay. Not all families were able to keep their children living near them. When distance increased, visits became less frequent but often lasted longer. Visiting, for Eliza Bellamy, was not limited to kin. Her diary entries show that she was also well connected in her community and had frequent interactions with her neighbours and friends, often providing assistance to neighbours. These visits are referred to in chapter 11. Amedee Papineau, the son of Louis-Joseph Papineau, also belonged to a family that maintained strong kinship links across several generations. These are mentioned throughout Amedee's diary, but his twomonth visit to Canada in 1840, the first since his exile in 1837, is particularly revealing.98 Amedee was anxious to see as many of his friends and relatives as possible, and in his journal almost all of the people he saw in this interval were identified as to their relationship to him, A close examination of this segment, therefore, gives a good indication of the extent of his kinship and social network. Tabulating the references he made during this period, I found that his most frequent contacts were with fourteen of his relatives, primarily his cousins, aunts, and uncles. (His parents and siblings were in France at the time.) There had always been close contact between his family and that of his aunt, Marie-Rosalie Papineau Dessaulles. Her son Louis-Antoine Dessaulles (fig. io.n), a year younger than Amedee, had been sent to Montreal to live with the Papineau family in order to attend the Sulpician College with Amedee and Lactance,

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FAMILY KINSHIP AND COMMUNITY

Fig. io.i i William Notman, Hon. L.A Dessaules and Family, Montreal, QC, 1862. Notman Photographic Archives, i-z^z6, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal. Amedee Papineau's cousin, Louis-Antoine Dessaulles was the seigneur of Saint-Hyacinthe.

his cousins. He had returned to live with the Papineaus again in 1836.99 It was Aunt Dessaulles who hid both Amedee and his father before they escaped to the United States. Her home was a second home to Amedee. During his trip he visited a further forty-two relatives and also saw thirty-one friends, primarily from his college days. Of these there were clearly some that he was closer to than others. He went to visit his former college professors as well. These, along with local priests and parents of friends, account for another nineteen of the contacts he made. He referred to a further twenty people who were casual acquaintances and outside his usual social circle. When he visited Saint-Eustache, for example, he met the families of some of the patriotes who were involved in the Rebellions.

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235

In this relatively short trip he associated with a total of 12.7 people. This does not include the ever-widening circle of friends he was making in the United States while he was in exile. His ties with his relatives were clearly the most important, closely followed by those to his college friends. He himself recognized the relative significance of these when he wrote: "After the sweet ties to family, those of college are the dearest and the strongest."100 At twenty-one years of age, he was already well integrated into a large social network. It is in the details of this segment of Amedee's diary,101 however, that we can see how such a network was maintained and how it continued to expand. The visit included time in Montreal, a trip to Petite Nation with a large party of relatives, and some time at Vercheres, Saint-Denis, and Saint-Hyacinthe. He made pleasurable excursions with groups of family and friends: hunting, fishing, canoeing, and climbing the mountain at Rouville. The party for the Rouville excursion consisted of approximately thirty people, sixteen of them from his aunt's house, and a few friends from the village (9 September 1840). He also visited the scenes of the Rebellions. Other days were spent visiting, often in the company of an uncle or friend, calling at three or four different homes on the same day. Often Amedee would meet friends or relatives of the person being visited, expanding the circle of his acquaintances even further. Most importantly, this trip renewed his contact with his Canadian family and friends after three years' absence. His correspondence with many of the same people (see appendix z), although also important in maintaining networks, could not have had the same effect as the pleasant moments shared together during this time. SUNDAYS

In this period Sunday church attendance was undoubtedly the most common and regular form of social interaction for most Canadians, but as significant as attending church was whom one attended with and what one did afterwards. With the possible exception of those who observed the Sabbath very strictly, Sunday was probably the most important day of the week for social interaction with nearby friends and kin. IO2 Ann Wrong The only portion of Ann Wrong's diary to survive was written in the summer when she was just beginning to be courted by Robert Douglass, whom she would later marry. It therefore cannot reflect the seasonal aspect of calling and visiting, but the significance of Sundays in

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FAMILY K I N S H I P AND COMMUNITY

her weekly cycle of activities is clear. Ann wrote in her diary while at school and always recorded her Sunday activities on Monday. Thirteen such entries show that her Sunday usually revolved around her family and family friends. During the week Ann seems to have stayed at the school most of the time, but on Saturday evening or Sunday morning she went home to the family farm. It was common for the Wrongs' close friends to join them for their midday meal - dinner - on Sunday. In the afternoon, they might go for a walk or drive. Sometimes they went to "meeting" in the morning, sometimes at six in the evening. In some cases company would return with them after meeting and spend the evening. There were also a number of Sundays when they received visitors from slightly further away, such as Vienna. Or they might instead go visiting themselves, on Saturday evening or Sunday. On occasion Ann went alone but usually these visits involved a group. They were generally to the same people, as her references to eating "with the usual company" indicate. Sunday, 18 July, might be considered a typical day of this sort. Ann and her family went to meeting in the morning and met the Douglass family on the way. Since there was no meeting at their own church that Sunday, they went on to the Baptist church where Alfred Chute was preaching. Afterwards, they stopped at Mr Bowlby's. In the afternoon the McKinnon family (William, Sophy, Mary Ann, Christian, and John) came up from Vienna and they all walked to the lake, a distance of about three miles, to enjoy the refreshing breeze. When they returned they had tea. The McKinnons left for home in the evening. Shortly after, Robert Douglass called and stayed for a short time, after which Ann went to bed. Of thirteen entries that describe her Sundays, there was only one, 15 August, which she spent at home without company. The family was also without company on Sunday 2.5 July, but Ann had just returned from visiting Vienna and Port Burwell. For this family, going to church and visiting were closely intertwined, and clearly this was considered an acceptable Sunday pastime.10? John Wells Like Ann, thirty-eight year old John Wells was also a teacher. In 1862 he boarded near the village of Ingersoll where he had been teaching. Although a recent immigrant from England, he had a sister in Wardsville and a brother in Toronto. But with no family within daily visiting distance, his social life revolved around his friends. These seem to have been numerous, and he did not lack for activities to do with

FAMILY SOCIABILITY

Z37

them. He was a member of the local Masonic Lodge and probably had been a Mason before coming to North America.104 However, if the lodge and its activities were an important aspect of his life, it is not obvious, since he does not refer to attendance at any lodge functions in the early part of the year but only after his return from England that summer. He went to public lectures when these were available, and around New Year's attended some parties. Card evenings were also a popular form of entertainment, but although a group of men met regularly to play whist at his boarding house, he doesn't seem to have joined them.10' Most of his socializing consisted of taking tea or dinner with his friends, most often on Sundays. A member of the Church of England, John attended church regularly, going at least once and often twice every Sunday, and staying for communion after morning service every month or so. He occasionally went to other services,106 and he attended a Church Society meeting. Going to church gave him the opportunity to meet friends. His diary almost always notes that he attended with someone and returned with either that person or someone else. On 12. January i86z, for example, he went to church in the morning with Mrs Ollard and returned home with Mary White. He then dined at Sages' and went to church in the evening and returned with John Wright. He received an invitation, which he did not accept, to the McCaugheys'. Most of his Sundays were similar. Amedee and Mary Westcott Papineau Whereas many Protestants felt that the Sabbath had to be respected by engaging only in appropriate behaviour, Catholics observed Sundays by attending mass in the morning but felt that the remainder of the day might be spent in more worldly activities. Amedee Papineau and Mary Westcott Papineau usually attended church together, either mass at Notre Dame or a Presbyterian service of her choice. Afterwards, they often preferred to stay at home quietly, as Amedee felt that Sunday was his only day of peace to read and spend time in the way he wished.107 When his parents were in residence in the city, however, they wanted Amedee and Mary to come for Sunday dinner if possible. These evenings often included the playing of cards, an activity frowned upon by many Protestants and considered especially inappropriate on a Sunday. Writing to her father, Mary commented on their different traditions. The Papineaus often had twelve to eighteen people over on Sunday, seeing it as a time for intimate friends and family. Madame Papineau told Mary that God did not forbid innocent amusements, and since they did not play cards for money, she did not see

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FAMILY K I N S H I P AND C O M M U N I T Y

this as a problem. The one time that Mary did attend a Sunday evening at the senior Papineaus, she was particularly shocked to find that her husband's uncle, a priest, was playing cards with the best of them. She kept this reaction to herself, however, since she asked her father not to say anything.108 The different points of view expressed in this letter would find their expression in society at large later in the century when "blue laws" that attempted to protect the Sabbath found favour in Ontario but met with much opposition in Quebec. The significance of Sunday activities in family and community life, however, was true for both Catholic and Protestant groups. EXTENDED VISITS The strength of family ties and the desire for a "good visit" when family members lived away from one another explains the frequency of extended visits. The cost and time required for travel meant that frequent visiting over longer distances was difficult, so that when family members did visit, they tended instead to stay a long time. For older kin who no longer had households of their own, this could mean periods of several months.109 In some circumstances, visits might be extended over a year or more, especially in the placing of a family member with another for a specific purpose such as to attend school or be close to work. This was most likely in the case of young people.110 For married people with responsibilities of their own, however, extended visits were generally limited to several weeks and if part of a longer trip, perhaps only a few days. Although extended visits were most common between family members, they were also made by very close friends living far apart.111 During their period of exile, Reine Duvernay and Marguerite Harnois had to stay with family or friends whenever they went to Montreal. They usually stayed at Mme La Fontaine's for at least a few days.111 Just after the outbreak of the Rebellions, Marguerite stayed with a "Mme S." for a month as she got their affairs in order, Reine and the children having left the city only three days after Ludger Duvernay.113 When Reine visited in February 1838, she stayed with Mme Launoit, who wanted to keep her longer.114 Victorine, one of their closest friends and a frequent correspondent, would have liked them to visit more often as well."5 Because of the Duvernay family's situation at the time, these visits border between social visits and assistance. The division is somewhat arbitrary at best. In 1862. John Wells made several extended visits, one a month-long stay with his sister Annie in Wardsville."6 He joined the family in their

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SOCIABILITY

239

Fig. 10.12. South Side, Chateau de Montebello, Montebello, QC, c. 1890. Notman Photographic Archives, MP-oooo.962..z, McCord Museum of Canadian History, Montreal. Built by Louis-Joseph Papineau, the seigneurial manor house at Petite-Nation was later inherited by Amedee Papineau. It was the scene of many family gatherings.

activities, went for walks with his brother-in-law and met some of his parishioners, and helped his sister to establish a Sunday school. The visit left him feeling in better health, thanks to his sister's "care and attention." At Easter that year he accepted an invitation to spend a few days in Markham with friends of Miss White, and although he does not appear to have known Mr and Mrs Gordon prior to this, he was "cordially welcomed" by them. He arrived on the Thursday, and he and Miss White walked to the village on both the Friday and the Saturday. On Easter Sunday they walked to Mr Gordon's Presbyterian church in the morning and to the English church in the afternoon. John left again on Monday, returning to Toronto by train.117 He also visited with his brother in Toronto several times, but since his brother was boarding, he could not stay with him. John's most important trip, however, was to England that summer. Leaving from New York on 17 May, he did not return until 7 August. In England he mostly stayed at the family farm, where his mother, aunt, and two sisters still lived. From there he visited friends in Cambridge and went for a few days to visit more relatives. Other than a few cricket matches, a sheep-shearing festival, and three hours at the

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FAMILY K I N S H I P AND C O M M U N I T Y

Fig. 10.13 William Notman, Portrait of Louis Joseph Amedee Papineau and Family, c. 1860. NAC PA-zio6z !38 dispeosatioos, 73 doctors. See medical assistance domestic occasions, 193-4,210. See also family celebrations donations viageres, 181 Donegana Hotel (Montreal), 79 Douglas, Alexander, 166, 266, 267

365

Douglas, Dooald, 75, 168, 266, 268 Douglas, George, Jr, 74, 266, 267, 268-9 Douglas, George, Sr, 75-6, 182-4, 266, 267 Douglas, Isabelle, 72, 168 Douglas, Jaoe, 79; bathiog baby, 143; buying a gown, 96; marital fears, 3ionio. See also Hudson, Jane Emily Douglas, John, 75, 134-5, 204, 266-7 Douglas, Mary, 94, 3o6n8i; miscarriage, J

35

Douglas, William, 10; birthdays, 195; courtship with Jane Hudson, 48-51; marriage settlemeot, 65; New Year's calls, 215; settiog up house, 79; sleighing party, 221; talk with black servant, 50, 295ni24; Valentine's Day, 195; view of Catholic funeral, 204; visit to Iowa, 242; wedding, 71-2; wedding trip, 75 Douglas, William and Jane: marital relationship, 103 Douglas family: care of elderly father, 182-4; childhood illnesses, 1 6 6-8; correspondence, 266-9; problems with Mrs Baio, 149 Douglass, Robert (later married Ann Wrong), 28-9, 236 dower, 63-4 Dowling, James, 71,75 Dowling, Mary Ann, 75; illness, 249; visit home, 242

Dumesnil, Lt, 24-5 Duvernay, Ludger, 119, 250, 280; clothing, 95;

366 exile, ii9-zo; letters to family, 160; marriage contract, 63; portrait, 1 20 Duvernay, Ludger and Reine: marital relationship, 119-23; disagreement over trip to Paris, 122

Duvernay, Napoleon, 95, 151, 171; mannerisms, 3, 163-4; problematic behaviour, 160-3 Duvernay, Reine, 119; childbirth complications, 140-1; health of, 1 2 1-2; marital relationship, pain at separation from husband, 121; pregnancy not mentioned, 133; visiting, 229, 238 Duvernay family: assistance from family and friends, 247-8, 250; children described, 160-4; death of children, 172; financial situation, 97-8, 99, 122; gifts to, 34inio; handicraft production, 98-100; lack of garden, 90 Edgar, Jamie, 259—60 elderly, care of, 182-4 Emery, (Aaron) Dunham, 10; courtship of Jane Van Norman, 45-8, 65; wedding, 71, 75 engagement. See courtship English common law, 64-5 Enlightenment: views of childhood, 149-50 Erler, Johan George, 206 Errington, Jane, 84, 2-99"34> 302-n3> 303n7 Esplanade Walk, 32 extended visits. See visiting, extended

INDEX

fairs, 26, 227 family celebrations, 193-9; anniversaries, 194; birthdays, 195-6; Christmas, 196-9; as "domestic occasions," 193-4; Jewish holidays, 32, 35, 39; Thanksgiving, 193, 194, 328n4, 328n5; Valentine's Day, 194-5 family correspondence: Amedee Papineau in 1840, 262; Caroline Price Hewlett to William Price, 265-6; diaries as a record of, 260; Douglas family, 266-9; etiquette regarding, 262; gender roles, 260, 269, 272; Mary Westcott Papineau and James Westcott, 269-71; nature of, 7-9, 259, 260; occasional letters, 271; significance of, 15, 259, 260; sources for, 9-11. See also courtship and marital relationships family economy, 97 family social life, 14-15, 211-45; calling, 21 1; community events, 226-8; extended visits, 238-44; New Year's calls, 211-15; private parties, 221-6; on Sundays, 235-8; visiting, 14, 228-35. $ee also balls, concerts, horse races, lectures, picnics, pleasure excursions, regattas, sleighing parties, winter carnival Farrand, Jacob, 271 fathers, 274-5, 3i3n4; care of sick children, 165-6,168. See also childbirth, husband's role in

Felton family, 216, 335112-4 fire, 246, 250, 3o6n8i, 34in2 first communion, 194, 329n6 Fletcher (friend of Amedee Papineau), 280 food: noteworthy, 90; wild game, 9 1 . See also household production Forrest, Georginna, n Forsans, Henri, 280 Fraser, Dave, 27 friends, 192, 233, 251, 258, 288n7i, 289n7, 3391197 Friends Seminary (attended by William Douglas), 266 funerals, 199-207; attendance by women, 205, 333U74; attendance gratifying, 206; Chief Justice Vallieres de Saint-Real, 203; Gustave Papineau, 200-2; invitations to, 204; James Cuthbert Jr, 202-3; masonic, 204; Protestant view of Catholic funeral, 204; Sheriff John A. Powell, 203; Thomas D'Arcy McGee, 203 furniture and furnishings, 79, 80; of Abraham Joseph, 292n7i, Ashworth, 299n23; cradle, 137; Duvernay, 98, 3o8niO2; silver, 3O2n9i; piano, 76 Gagan, David, 274 Gagnon, Louise, 154-5 Gagnon, Serge, 300^6, 3Oon56 games, children's, 151, 154; croquet, 27 Garceau, Mrs, 163-4, 22-9 gender roles: in housekeeping, 82, 100-1; in

367

INDEX

letter writing, 260, 2.69, 272

gifts, 100, 151, 34inio; bets for, 2,911140; birthday, 195-6; Christmas, 198-9, 331048, 331049; courtship, 33, 34, 36, 54; wedding, 41 Gillis, John, 193 Glackemeyer, Mary, 100 Godard, Cyprien, 169 godparentage, 142 Gordon, Michael, and M. Charles Bernstein, 295ni22 Gossage, Peter, 186 Graff, Harvey J., 326014 Grand Battery, 32 grandparents, 146-7, 186

Greer, Allan, 298ni5 grief. See death, emotional responses to Griswold, Robert, 102 Guion, Mary, 289ni2, 29in49 Hallen, Eleanora, 225; Christmas, 197; fire, 246, 34in2; New Year's, 215, 334n3 Hallen, Mary, 20 Hamel, Theophile, 95, z86n64; portraits of children, 12, 151, I52--3, 155, 156* 158 handicrafts, 97-100 Hansen, Karen, 14, 191, 275, 287n66, 287067 Harnois, Marguerite: aid to her sister Reine Duvernay, 97, 119, 248; extended visits, 238; health, 121; on iropendiog death of her father, 184-5; rooose hair embroidery, 98-100 Haroois, Reioe. See Duveroay, Reioe Harper, J. Russell, 286065 Harris, Amelia Ryerse,

181, 28209; Christmas, T 98-9, 33in49; and Thanksgiving, 32905 Hart, Aaron, 290037 Hart, Emily, 67-70 Hart, Theo, 35, 70 Haskios, Joho, 231, 33 8n 7 8 Haskins, Luther, 94, 231, 279

Hedden, Margaret, 173, 271

Hemsley family, 284039 Heriot, George: Dance in the Chateau St Louis, 217, 218 Hetheriogtoo, Captaio Edward, 28909, 332070 Hewlett, Caroline Price, 74; on cancelled wedding, 19; care of nieces, 252-5; correspondence with William Price, 265-6, 285050 Hilton, Caroline, 253 honeyroooo, 61, 75 horse racing, 227-8, 337n6i house. See housekeeping, setting up household economy, 274 household pests, getting rid of, 88-9 household productioo: of cloth, 83, 93, 303011; of clothes, 83, 84, 93-6, 306081; of food, 83, 84, 89-93, 303010. See also haodicrafts housekeepiog: complaiots, 80, geoder roles in, 82, 100-1; overseeing servants, 80, 82, 85-8, 113-14; setting up, 79-81, 82, 30202, 30307; spriog cleaoiog, 88-9; tasks of, 82-3. See also household production Hoyle, Eliza Nye, 10; anticipating sister's visit, 3ion2o; diary fragment,

107; letter to Henry, 175; reponsibilities in husband's absence, 107-8 Hoyle, Henry, 105, 3ioni8; difficulties as a young adult, 174-6 Hoyle, Margaret, 105, 310018 Hoyle, Mary, 105, 251, 3ioni8 Hoyle, Robert, 8, 10, 94, 273; affection for his children, 148; death of first wife, 141; expectations of soo Heory, 174-5; letter proposiog marriage, 25; love for Eliza, 108; New Year's ball, 216-17; pregoaocy of his wife, 134; respoosibility as husbaod, 108; view oo servaots aod childreo, 85, 150, 304022; views oo childrearing, 148-50 Hoyle, Robert aod Eliza: estraogement, 105, 108; frequency of letters, 107; marital relationship, 104-9 Hoyle, Sarah Ruth, 105, 150, 310018 Hudsoo, Jaoe Emily, 10, 79, 266, 2950122; courtship with William Douglas, 48-51; weddiog, 71-2. See also Douglas, Jaoe Hudsoo, R.H., 73-4 infaocy, 141-4; death io, 144-7; stages of growth, 143 iofaot mortality, 144, 319047 influenza, 169-70 Jabour, Anya, 103, 326013 Jalland, Pat, 32303 Jeooy (Moodie family

368 servant), 88, 90, 139, 158 Johnston, Lorna, z83ni4 Joseph, Abraham, annual ball, 38, 220; bachelor lifestyle, 29-33, 291^46; "Bachelor's Hall," 36; ball at Rasco's Hotel, 335ni8; care of children when ill, 1 66; Clapham Terrace house purchased, 38; courtship and engagement to Sophia David, 37-41; diary of, 5, z82.n9, 291049; early courtship and social life, 33-7, 29in49, 292^50, 292n54, 292n6i; early life, 29; excursion, 29in39, 336n37; furnishing house, 29in7i; kinship links, 290^37; male-only party, 225; married life, 104; New Year's calls, 213-15, 334n2; picnic, 220-1; portrait, 42, 167; regatta, 337065; and Saint Catherine Day, . 3 3 5n27; sexual relationship with Ann Ross, 36; unicorn sleigh, 3 2-3 , 29in46; valentine, 195; wedding calls, 334n2; wedding, 41-2. See also childhood illnesses, in the Joseph family Joseph, Esther, 36 Joseph, Fanny, 143 Joseph, Henry (father), 29, 30 Joseph, Henry (son): infant death, 144-5 Joseph, Mrs Abraham (Sophia): portrait, 43, 167. See also David, Sophia Joseph, Rebekah, 36, 37 Joseph family: portraits, ii-i2, 167

INDEX Jourdain, Mary Anne, 1 1 Katz, Michael B., 298ni5, 3O4n24 Keays, Eliza Amelia. See Wright, Eliza Keays, Eliza Amelia Giff, 283n24. See also Bellamy, Eliza Keays, William, 22, 71, 260 Keefer, Jacob, 6, 198, 206 Kemp, Levi, 215 Kerber, Linda K., 287n66 Kerr, Willy, 285n 4 6 kinship, 191-2, 258; equality of affinal and consanguinal kin, 75, 3Oin69; maintained by letters, 259-62, 265-71, 272; and mutual assistance, 246-58; networks, 275 Krieghoff, Cornelius, 21, 154 Laderman, Gary, 200 Lafontaine, Mrs, 99, 34inio La Minerve, 119, 120 Lamonde, Yan, 339^9 Lane, William, 227, 283n2i Leavitt, Thad, 283n24, 338079 lectures, 227 letter(s): announcing death, 204-5; l°ve> 7> occasional, 271; writing, 270; writing on Sunday, 295ni23, 34onio2. See also family correspondence Lewis, Jan, 288n3 Lindsay, William, 20-1, 289n7 Lindsay, William Burns, 332n70 love: as basis for marriage, 19-20, 47, 58; romantic, 288n3, 289ni5, 295ni23

Lystra, Karen, 287n66, 288n3, 289n3, 295ni23 McCalla, Douglas, 84, 3O3mo, 3O3nn McCallum, Archibald, 256-8 McCallum, Duncan, 251, 257-8 McCallum, John: difficulties with his brother, 256-8 McCallum family, n, 256-8 Macdonald, John Duff, 284n3i Macdonell, Miles, 216 Macfarlane, Alan, 282ni5 McGee, Thomas D'Arcy, funeral of, 203 McKenna, Katherine, 9, 211, 221, 342ni3 MacLaren, David, 103-4 Magi, Feast of (Epiphany), 196, 198, 221 Malboeuf, Augustin, 60 Malloch, Edward George, 6, 283n29 Malloch, George, Esq., 284^1 Malloch, Isabella, 178 Malloch, John Glass: birth of daughter, 135; children's birthdays, 196; Christmas, 198; death of children, 144; diary of, 6; hired help, 84-5; protest to father-in-law, 178; wedding anniversary, 194; wife's miscarriage, 135 Malloch, Sarah Ann, 135, 284031 manners, view of, 251, 287n6y, 3i2n78 Margaret, "old" (Papineau family cook), 88, 207 marital relationships, 102-4, 126-8; Amedee and Mary Papineau, 123-26; correspondence, 10, 104, 126-7;

369

INDEX

diaries as a source, 104; John and Susanna Moodie, 115-19; Ludger and Reine Duvernay, U9-Z3; Marcus and Lydia Child, 109-15; Robert and Eliza Hoyle, 104-9 Marks, Lynn, 228 marriage: age at, 62, 298ni5; companionate, 64, 102, 103, 106, 125, 131; congratulations on, 73-4; contracts and settlements, 63-6; for love, 19-20, 47, 58; legal aspects of, 63, 298ni9; mixed, 300^6; parental role in, 66; preliminaries to, 41, 61-6; prohibited partners, 61, 297n7; religious aspects of, 61-2, 295ni22; republican ideal of, 102, 288n3, 3ion4; sources for, 3oon36. See also weddings; household production; housekeeping; marital relationships Martin, John, 180 Martin, Patrick, 10, 180 Martin, William, 10, 180-1, 256 masculine ideals, 176 Masson, Joseph, 280 measles, 167 medical assistance, 191; for infant and childhood illness, 144, 145, 166, 168, 172, 249; for childbirth and related problems, 134, 135, 137, i3 8 , 140 Melvin, Louisa, 289n8 menagerie: Picton, 227; Vienna, 227, 336^4 Mercier, Dame Julie (wife of Benjamin Beaupre), 185

military officers, contribution to social life, 217

Milne, Frances Tweedie: birth of baby, 137-8; diary of, 5; mother's birthday, 195; pregnancy, 134; references to baby, 142-3; visit home, 240-2. See also Tweedie, Frances Milne, William, 26-8, 137 Mintz, Steven and Susan Kellogg, 193 miscarriage, 22, 134-5 Molson, Mary Ann (Crawford), 33, 292n5O, 292n54 Montebello, 239, 244 Montmorency Falls, 222, 223

Montreal, 77 Montreal Witness, 150-1, 32ini6 Moodie, Donald, 3,95, 168, 169 Moodie, John Dunbar, 10, 62; affection for children, 158-9; affection for his wife, 1.16, 119; death of, 208; settlement of house on son, 181

Moodie, Susanna, 10, 12, 90, 95-6; assistance to and from neigbours, 169-70, 246-7, 250; childbirth complications, 139—40; death of her husband, 208-9; illness, 169, 246; invitation to a subscription ball, 335ni8; love of her husband, 116, 119; New Year's calls, 212; paintings on fungi, 97; pregnancy, 134; Valentine's Day, 195; visiting, 229; wedding anniversary, 194 Moodie, Susanna and John Dunbar: estrangement of daughter, 119, 182; letters, 118; marital relationship,

115-19; trials of separation, 117-18 Moodie children, 159-60; birthdays, 195; childhood illnesses, 168-70 Morgan, Cecilia, 287n67, 3 2 5 n3 mortality rates, 331^51 mourning rituals, 200, 33m54 mutual assistance, 246-58; boarding kin, 251-5; neighbours and kin, 246-51; financial help, 255-8 Nairne, John, 23 neighbourhood, 191 neighbours, 233, 246-7, 258

New Year's calls, 52, 211, 212, 215, 334n3, 334n4, 334nii;of Abraham Joseph, 213-15; of Papineau family, 212-13 New Year's, 225 Neysmith (friend of Amedee Papineau) 280 Niagara Falls, 222 Nissenbaum, Stephen, 33in 4 8 North Augusta, 230 Notman, William, 155 Nye, Eliza, 25, 105. See also Hoyle, Eliza Nye Nylander, Jane C., 3O2n2 O'Callaghan, Dr, 280 O'Meara, Dominick Daly, 151, 153 Osterud, Nancy Grey, 82, 84, 191, 287n66 Ouellet, Fernand, 286n59 oyster parties, 32, 225 Papineau, Amedee: birth of his children, 131, 138-9; correspondence, 260-2, 280; courtship with Mary Westcott, 51-8; death of his son,

370 1455 diary of, 4-5; funeral of Gustave, 200-2; in love, 53; marriage contract, 64; New Year's calls, 212; portrait, 124, 240; silhouette, 307^9; social life after marriage, 226; social life before marriage, 221-5; visiting, 2-33-5> 244 Papineau, Amedee and Mary Westcott: affection, 123-5; anniversary, 123-5, 1945 domestic life, 3i6ni46; horse races, 227-8; marital relationship, 123-6, 3i7ni46; party, 217; religious differences, 125-6; setting up housekeeping, 80-1; Sundays, 237-8; travel, 126; wedding, 72-3; wedding calls, 78; wedding tour, 76-7 Papineau, Azelie, 207, 251, 241, 244, 329n6 Papineau, Ella, 143; birth of, 131, 138-9; first birthday, 196; in family portrait, 240 Papineau, Emery, 280 Papineau, Gustave: death, 207-8; funeral, 200-2 Papineau, Joseph, 260, 263

Papineau, Julie Bruneau, 77, 138, 146, 280; on card playing, 237; correspondence, 286n59; letters re Mary's pregnancy, 133-4; portrait, 243

Papineau, Lactance, 73, 280

Papineau, Louis-Joseph (father of Amedee), 73, 91, 244, 280; correspondence, 286059; godfather, 139; portrait, 243, 261

INDEX

Papineau, Louis-Joseph (first son of Amedee): birth, 139; christening, 139; infant death, 145-7; weight, 3i9n4i Papineau, Louis-Joseph (second son of Amedee): in family portrait, 240 Papineau, Mary Westcott, 79; calling, 334nz; childbirth, 138-9; correspondence with her father, 269-71; death of cousin Louise, 210; death of Gustave, 207; death of her brother, 209; death of her father, 185-6; death of her mother in childbirth, 138; death of her son, 146; description of funeral, 203; as housekeeper, 80, 88-9, 91; New Year's calls, 212-13; portrait, 124, 240; pregnancy, 133-4; Saint Catherine ball, 217; servants, 85-8; sewing work, 3o6n83; Thanksgiving celebrated, 194, 329n5; visits home, 242; wedding present, 78. See also Westcott, Mary Eleanor Papineau, Rosalie Cherrier, 260, 263 Papineau family: ball in honour of Amedee and Mary, 78; Christmas, 198; correspondence, 286n59; Feast of the Magi, 198; grief over Gustave's death, 207-8; kinship network, 260-2; portraits, 11-12, 261, 263-4, 34111129 parents: and adult children, 10-11, 177-87; and children, 13-14, 173-87; death of, 184; and young adult chil-

dren, 174-7. See also childbirth; infancy; childhood; children Pasteur, Cecile, 19 Paterson, Margaret, 34 Peel, Edmund: view on husbands attending birth, 136 Peel, Lucy, 151, 3i8ni3 Perrault, Louis, 280 pets, 155, 1 60, 202 Philips, Julia, 63, 64 Phillpots, George A., 266 picnics, 220-1, 227 pleasure excursions, 220, 235, 29in39, 336n37, 34oniO2 Pleck, Elizabeth: "domestic occasions," 193 Pollock, Linda, 323^ Porter, Mrs William, 280 Porter, William, 280 portraits: carte de visite, 65, 299n3O; of children, 12, 152-3, 156-8; daguerreotype of dead infant, 145; daguerreotypes exchange, 56; of Duvernay, 3o8nio2; as family heritage, 11—12; likeness, 45, 102, 268; silhouettes, 3O7n99 Powell, Elizabeth, 342ni3 Powell, John A.H., 203 pregnancy, 133-4 presents. See gifts Price, Caroline, 74; 252, 254-5, wedding expenses, 67 Price, Caroline (Aunt). See Hewlett, Caroline Price Price, Jane, 19, 254 Price, Mary, 252-4 Price, William, 252, 265-6 Pringle, Joseph, n, 179-80, 271 Pringle, Phebe, n, 178-9, 271

Pringle, William Anson, n, 180, 271

371

INDEX

Quebec City, social life of the elite, 43-4 reciprocity. See mutual assistance regattas, 228, 3371165 Reid, Rev., 195, zi5, 334nn religion, 13, 20, 144; challenged by romantic love, 2950123; as factor in mate selection and marriage, zo, 38, 43, 50, 56-8, 2950122. See also death, religious response to Renaud, Madame JeanBaptiste, 151, i5Z respectability, 176, 3Z5nio Robitaille, Ignace, z8o Robitaille, Joseph, z8o Roby, Sidney, 326013 Rodier, Edouard, 185 Ross, Ann, 3 6 Ross, Harriet Ann, 3 3-4, 195

Ruddel, David-Thierry, 93-4, 154, 303nn Rudin, Ronald, z86n59 Sabean, David Warren, 287068, z88n70, 288071, z88n7Z Saint Andrew's Day, 27, 50, 335019 Saint Catherine Day, 217, 3350x7 Saint-Jean-Baptiste Day, 217

Saratoga Springs, 54; Papineau social circle, 52 scarlet fever, 166-7, iO4> 232, 249 Scherzer, Kenneth, 32809 Schneider, A. Gregory, 149 separate spheres, 13, 127, 287066 servants, 85, 113, 304024, 304029; vs "help," 84-5 sex, 1 06

sexual relatiooships, 25, 36

Shambeau, Mrs, 94 Shaw, Mrs George, 68 silhouettes, 30, 53, 307099 sleighing, 224 sleighing parties, 220, 221 Smith, Daniel Blake, 282ni5 Smith, Daniel Scott, 28806, 319036 Smith, Parroelia, 93, 230, Z3i, Z49, 338o8z, 3400109 Smith-Rosenberg, Carroll, Z5i, z87n66, 34zni3 sociability. See family celebrations; family social life social nature of family life, 13, 191-2, 273 social networks, 191—2, 245, 258, 272, 275 social spheres, 13, 287n67 Solomons, Rachael, 29, 31 Somerville, James K., 326ni3 sources, middle-class nature of, 12 Spaldiog, William, 60 spriog cleaning, 88-9 Stikeman, Alfred, 5, 91 Strickland, Samuel, 116 Strickland, Susanna, 62, 115. See also Moodie, Susanna suicide, 332059 Suitor, Jill, 136 Sundays, 235, 237-8, 339nio2 Taylor, James: wedding group, 68 Tellier, Mrs, 230 temperance, 176, 177-8, 32508 Thanksgiving, 193, 194, 328n4, 32805 toboggaoing, 223 Torrens, Mrs, 74 toys, 151

Traill, Catherioe, 116, 139-40, 229 Traill, Thomas, 169 Trudeau, Mr (pharmacist), 172, 325036 Tweedie, Frances, 23, 91, 94; birthday, 195; courtship, 26—8; social life, 225-7. See also Milne, Frances Tweedie Ulrich, Laurel Thatcher, 93, 191, 283015 vaccioation, no, 143 Valentine's Day, 55, 194-5 Vallieres de Saiot-Real, Chief Justice (JosephRemi): fuoeral, 203 Vao Normao, Jane: courtship with Duoharo Emery, 45-8; declioe of ioterest in social life, 47, 226

veotriloquist show, Milford, 227 Vickery, Amanda, 287n66 Victoria Hall, 6, 284030 Viger, Louis-Michel, 280 Viger, Madame LouisMichel, 264 visitiog, 228-35; for extended periods, 238-44, 251-5, 34onin; Lydia Child to her mother, 115; Papineau-Westcott, 125; on Sundays, 23 5-8 Walker, Nancy, 248, 33 8n 7 8 Walker, William, 338078 walking, 3 1—2 Ward, Peter, 9, 66, 103, 28907, 293086, 298015 weddings, 41, 61, 66-75; anoiversaries, 123-5, 194; cake, 70, 73, 123, 301059; calls, 34, 78; cancellatioo of, 19; ceremony, 73; dresses, 66-7; in elite society, 67;

37* portraits, 67, 68-9; presents, 41, 78; trip, 61, 75-9 Wells, John, 236; anniversary of parents, 194; birthdays, 195; Christmas, 197; courtship, 44-5; New Year's calls, 215; social life, 221, 227, 237; visits, extended, 238-40 Welter, Barbara, z$7n66 Westcott, James (brother), 5*. 53 Westcott, James (father), u, 52, 53, 72, 89; at birth of grandchildren, 138-9; correspondence with Mary, 269-71; letters of condolence (to Amedee Papineau), 208, (to Louis-Joseph Papineau), 147; portrait, 53, MO Westcott, Joseph, 52 Westcott, Mary (stepmother), 53, 57, 138, 139

INDEX

Westcott, Mary Eleanor, 11; correpondence with her father, 269-71; courtship with Amedee Papineau, 51-8; marriage contract, 64; portrait, 53; wedding, 72-3. See also Papineau, Mary Westcott Whealy, Eliza, 232, 249, 339n94 whooping cough, 167, 170-2 widow(er)s, 48, 62, 63, 255, 299n2i wife: abuse of, 299^4; responsibilities during absence of husband, 107-8, 113-15 Wilcox and Mead wedding party, 66-7, 69 Wilkes, Rev., 148 winter carnival on Saint Helen's Island, 228 Wirt, Elizabeth and William, 103 Wirt, Robert, 326ni3 women. See childbirth;

clothing, brides' dresses; clothing, women's gowns; housekeeping, gender roles in; pregnancy; widow(er)s; wife, responsibilities during absence of husband Wright, Eliza Amelia Keays (daughter of Eliza Bellamy), 230, 231-2, 283n24, 338n79 Wright, Emily, 249 Wright, Isaiah, 230, 283n24 Wright, Pamela, 3ioni8 Wrong, Ann, 88; attending funerals, 205; courtship, 28-9; on homespun, 3o6n75; at picnic and menagerie, 227, 33 326ni3, 326ni4