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Adeline’s 1812 Journal: Part 4

Adeline’s 1812 Journal: October 1813 -Married Life

This is a fictional journal written as it might have been by a young woman in 1812-1814. Adeline Price is the daughter of a farmer/volunteer soldier James Price and his wife, Clara Parsons. Adeline is the second oldest of four children (fifth child Victoria deceased). Her oldest brother, William is married to Elizabeth. Her sister, Evaline is 14 and her brother Henry is 10. Adeline has married Sgt. Charles Houghton, one of the soldiers stationed at Fort Wellington, at the age of 17 and they have settled on a piece of land north of Johnstown (Augusta Township) given to them by her father. Charles is the youngest son of a gentleman farmer (member of English parliament) from Buckinghamshire, England.

Adeline addresses her journal to Janetta, a dear childhood friend back in England.

Blueberry Creek Farm Sunday, October 10, 1813

Dear Janetta,

Charles just returned to Fort Wellington. It is a beautiful autumn day and the maples are all scarlet among the golden birches. As you can see, we have called our farm,”Blueberry Creek Farm” and next year I am sure to have harvested many. Mother and I did pick some this year which I have dried and use for puddings. I am becoming very domestic now, Janetta, and you would laugh to see me up to my armpits in hot water when I do the laundry. Charles says that I am the very picture of a perfect pioneer wife and her teases me that he will call me “Mrs. Scrubs” from now on. I do like to keep the cabin clean , Janetta, which is difficult when the floor is partly stone and partly wood.

Sometimes, like today, Charles and I eat out of doors on a table he made. It is pleasant to be out of the smokey cabin in the bright sunlight. We have two good-sized windows in the cabin, but they are covered with an oiled cloth, which doesn’t allow a lot of light in, so I have had to use the tallow candles unless I can leave the door open. Unfortunately, field mice will scurry inside looking for a warm winter abode, if I do. Charles has promised to replace the windows with real glass as soon as we can afford it. It will be dim inside with the shutters closed to keep out the weather, but I have made lots of candles.

I don’t have much time to pine after Charles, there is so much for me to do before winter, but I do enjoy it when he manages to get home. We have such good conversations about the books he has read and wants to share with me. Often we go walking, Pirate, our puppy, bounding ahead, around the property, planning what we will do when the war is over.

Charles hope to raise horses like his grandfather does on his farms back in England. He brought me a beautiful bay mare, that he bought from John Thompson’s brother and so now I can ride up to visit my parents or Mr. and Mrs. Randall. I have named the mare, “Goldie” and have already ridden her around the property several times. She’s a good, gentle horse of sturdy breeding, about six years old. John says his mother used to ride her, but now she sadly suffers from gout and can no longer ride.

I must check on the animals and bank the fire, before I turn into bed for the night. I love to lie there, Pirate at my feet, and listen to the owls until I fall asleep.

Your loving friend, Adeline

Blueberry Creek Farm Sunday, October 17, 1813

Dear Janetta,

Yesterday, Charles and I had our first true disagreement. He wants me to go back to Thistledown Farm until winter is over, but I much prefer to stay here and take care of our animals and the farm. In this manner I will closer to Fort Wellington and I will see more of Charles. Charles persisted until he could tell that I am as stubborn as he. He stamped out of the cabin and attacked the wood pile. I tried to make it up to him with a fresh apple pie for supper. At least I can make good pastry.

I do dislike disagreeing with my husband and I know that wives are supposed to obey, but going back to live with my family seems like taking a step backwards. This is our home and being a married couple back at Thistledown is awkward. We can’t have our silly tiffs and foolishness when others are about and I can’t indulge in my moments of anxious worry without distressing my parents. I do get lonely here without Charles, but I have Pirate and the animals. I am not so isolated now that I have Goldie to ride.

Charles rode back to the fort after breakfast this morning. He said not to expect him back for a week or so. The Americans have been making more trouble on the river. Charles, William and White Wolf are going to be patrolling the riverbank. I feel an ice-cold shiver each time he leaves, looking so noble in his red-coated uniform. How I wish I could ride along with him.

After a long hug and kiss, he left, but I didn’t watch him out of sight. Mrs. Randall always says that is bad luck, so I immediately go to work clearing up our breakfast dishes, and feeding our animals. Work gets my mind off the war. However, this time, as I lifted the hay with the pitchfork, I had the strangest feeling that I was being watched. I turned around expecting to see Charles coming back for something he’d forgotten, but I could see no one. Pirate was growling his little puppy growl though no one appeared. The feeling persisted however. I am getting more skittish as time goes on, it seems. At one point I thought I heard a horse whinny in the distance, but it must have been someone passing down the road to Johnstown.

Nervously, Adeline

Poem for the New Year

On New Year’s Eve

© by Mollie Pearce McKibbon

At the final stroke of midnight

The champagne corks were popped,

The confetti bags exploded

And all the music stopped.

Sounds of joy resounded

Throughout the neighbourhood

With high-fives, hugs and kisses

We all did what we could

To welcome in the New Year

And send the spent one out.

We’d had enough of that year

Of this there is no doubt.

I’ve vacuumed up confetti.

Collected every cork,

Washed a stack of dishes

And every knife and fork,

Rolled up all the streamers,

Brushed the sofas and the chairs.

I’ll close the drapes and lock the doors

Before I go upstairs.

For now the dawn arises.

The celebrants are in bed,

And I’m the only one around

Without a throbbing head.

Merry Poems for Christmas

My Merry Christmas poems for you!

The Battle Ornamental

©By Mollie Pearce McKibbon

O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum,

How can you look serene

When every year we trim you

It causes such a scene?

We begin with much excitement

One would never guess at all

That when we get the lights up

Well, we begin to brawl.

Now Mother likes the simple look;

Tree trimmed with white and gold,

While Father likes some colour,

He thinks white lights are cold.

And I prefer our ornaments

To have some extra zing-

Santas that bob back and forth

Or Christmas elves that sing.

My sister thinks that all the balls

Should be designer-made.

Her choices are artistic

And cleverly arrayed.

But the single decoration

That bother’s Pop the most

Is the shell-like apparition

Grandma sent us from the coast.

It shines, it gleams, it twinkles

And, I do not boast,

It plays a Christmas carol

About the heavenly host.

Every year Mom places it

On prominent display

Until my father spots it

And tucks it far away.

So back and forth , up and down,

It travels round our tree,

Sometimes smothered in tinsel

Or loud and proud for us to see.

When Grandma comes to dinner

Every happy Christmas day

We take bets on whether

Mother gets the final say!

Chez Noel

©by Mollie Pearce McKibbon

The chef has had a meltdown,

The waitress is berserk,

The hostess seems beside herself;

They act like I’m some jerk.

The dishes are all flying,

The washer-boy’s upset,

All because I simply

Hadn’t finished with them yet.

The chef is apoplectic,

The hostess threw her shoe;

Who’d have guessed my dinner

Would come a big to-do.

The rolls were so delicious,

And the cheesecake was unreal;

I guess I should have hurried

And not lingered at my meal.

But folks, my gosh, it’s Christmas

And the eggnog’s on the house.

Shouldn’t genrerosity

Include a hungry mouse?

Adeline’s Journal :War of 1812 – A Wedding

A Wedding: August 29, 1813

The following excerpt is from the diary of Adeline’s sister, Eveline Price.

Thistledown Farm,

August 29, 1813

Dear Diary,

Adeline and Charles were married today at the Little Blue Church in Prescott. Adeline looked beautiful in mother’s re-styled maroon afternoon gown. We made over the neckline, adding a lace fichu made from one of the capelets that Grandma Price sent us last summer. I braided Adeline’s lovely auburn hair and wound it into a coil at the back of her neck. She wore a small ivory silk bonnet with maroon ribbons and Mother had made a short cap to fit over the shoulders of the dress. Elizabeth made Adeline a bridal bouquet of red asters and white daisies from her garden, which we tied with the leftover maroon silk.

Adeline and Charles looked so sweet together, maroon and scarlet side by side, standing before Rev. Bethune. The only people there were our family and Charles’ friend, John Thompson, who along with Father, signed the register as a witness. I wish I were able to paint a portrait of Addy and Charles. They gave each other such tender smiles when they were pronounced husband and wife. We all cheered.

Mrs. Randall served us a wedding supper of venison and grouse at their home. Mrs. Randall had even managed to produce a proper wedding cake with butter icing and yellow pansies on top as a decoration. It was delicious and we all went outside afterwards to embrace the bride and groom before they drove off to spend the night at our brother William’s cabin. Arthur threatened to chivaree them, as they do in Lower Canada, but Robert and William talked him out of it. I am so glad because chivarees are awful really, noisemaking and sometimes even kidnapping the groom. I am so happy for my dear sister. May God bless them with a long life together.

After the celebration, Father, Arthur and Robert returned to Fort Wellington. William, who is still recovering from his Sackett’s Harbour wound, drove us back home. It was strange to sleep alone in our bed. It will be this way when Charles’ and Addy’s cabin is built. There will be no more giggling in the dark or singing hymns after our prayers. I will surely miss my older sister, but hopefully, one day I will be married too.

Lovingly,

Eveline

Adeline’s Diary resumes:

Sunday, September 5, 1813

Thistledown Farm again,

Dear Janetta,

I am now writing my journal as a married woman. My husband, Charles Andrew Houghton, is the kindest, dearest man. I am so blessed to be his wife. I do regret this awful war, but I thank God above that it brought my beloved Charles into my life. I have been married a week, but it seems so much longer, we have packed so much activity into each day.

Our one night at William and Elizabeth’s cabin was brief but lovely. I’m back at home now, but everyone treats me differently, more like a grown person. Charles has promised to visit as soon as possible and as often as he can. He has hired two men from Johnstown to help Mr. Randall build our cabin. He wants our home to be ready for us as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, I am making towels and some rag rugs for the cabin. I am also finishing the quilt I began a while ago. Mother, Evvy and I have been making preserves and helping with the second crop of hay. Our hay mow is almost filled and there is enough for William and Elizabeth too as well as some for Charles and me. It doesn’t take Eveline and me long to go to sleep. We’re too tired to talk at bedtime.

Wearily,

Adeline Houghton (I love writing my new name)

Sunday, September 25, 1813

Dear Janetta,

I am now living in our new cabin. It still smells of cedar shavings. We haven’t got a name for it yet, but I am making it as snug as possible. Charles will be coming to stay whenever he can until this war is over. Father doesn’t want me to stay alone in the cabin over the winter, but I’m quite capable of taking care of myself and the animals. We are buying a cow from the nearest farmer, Mr. Moffat, and we have a work horse that Charles brought back from the Randalls. Charlemagne is a good strong fellow with a gentle disposition. He and I are getting to know one another and he seems very content in the lean-to stable.

Charles and I have a new puppy thanks to Robert Randall. He gave us one of his collie’s litter and I have named him Pirate because he has a dark fur patch around his right eye. Pirate is a mischievous pup but he follows me around and sleeps at the bottom of our bed. He is good company for me while Charles is at the fort.

Cheerfully,

Adeline

Thursday, September 30, 1813

Dear Janetta,

William brought Elizabeth, Mother and Evvy to visit me today. They thought our little cabin very cozy. It overlooks a meadow and there are two large elm trees near the house and a mixed forest of mostly evergreens behind. I put a lunch of bread, butter, sliced venison and mint tea out for us on the table Charles made for us under one of the elms. Mother brought a sack of macintosh apples with her and we enjoyed a pleasant picnic out of doors.

William took me aside before he took Mother, Elizabeth and Evvy home. He warned me that one of the O’Meara brothers had been seen in Prescott and he asked me if I wanted to go back to Thistledown Farm for awhile, but I said no. Charles will be home any day now.

Hopefully, Adeline

Feline Lament

Don’t you know,

We were once revered

In ancient Egypt

So I’ve heard?

No one doubted

About our worth.

We were known

For our royal birth.

We were feted, loved,

Worshiped and adored;

Fed royal tidbits,

Were never bored.

But now I sit and

Twitch my tail,

Ignoring fish in their

Glassed-in jail,

Pretending not

To Notice saucy birds

As they fly by with

Their chirping words.

I sit upon a window sill

Or prowl the house

While it is still.

Oh goodness me,

Now what was that?

A tuna can?

Well….I’m a cat!

More Poetry for Fall

Ode to A Grey November © Mollie Pearce McKibbon 2013

The golden fires of Autumn

Are just past memories;

October’s glory washed away

By grey November’s breeze.

The tired sun, wan and pale,

Barely shows its face

Until the soft white winter quilt

Is gently tucked in place.

The grass and trees need their rest;

The flower bulbs must sleep.

All God’s creatures tiptoe round

Or slumber on in peace.

Their clock is set for Springtime

When all will stretch and sigh

And, renewed, the sun will smile

Up in a clear blue sky.

So don’t regret November days

As they creep slowly by.

They are only preparation for

Our Creator’s lullaby.

Yesterday’s Sunshine

Yesterday’s Sunshine ©Mollie Pearce McKibbon

Have you ever gazed

At the clouds sailing by

On a warm summer’s day

When the breeze is a sigh?

The world seems so green

And the grass smells sweet,

It is soft on your back

Though it tickles your cheek.

The sun melts your skin

Like butter in the pan

And cloud-shadows passing

Make a cooling fan.

On days honey bees

Are so lazily playing,

The boughs of a willow

Are not even swaying.

Life seems a dream,

Forever its scope;

Times spent in wonder

Bring visions of hope.

Bank all these moments

In your vault labelled “Joys”

So you can reclaim them

And quiet the noise

That worries and struggle

Bring into each day.

Let yesterday’s sunshine

Simply fade it away.

Adeline’s Journal

Adeline’s Journal : August 15, 1813

A fictional account of a young woman’s life during the War of 1812.

The story up to this point:

Adeline’s Uncle Andrew was awarded land in Upper Canada after serving in the His Majesty’s army during the American Revolution. When her uncle died his much younger brother, James Price, Adeline’s father inherited the land and moved his family from their home in England to Canada. Adeline has an older brother, William, a younger brother, Henry and a sister, Eveline. Their youngest sister, Virginia, died when she was three years old. William recently married Elizabeth whom he was courting just before the war began. James and William joined the local militia and reported for duty to Fort Wellington in Prescott. While William and James were away, Henry and Adeline were checking on their brother’s property and Adeline happened on a rendezvous of an American spy and two of their neighbours. Adeline was kidnapped by these three men and taken across the frozen St. Lawrence to Ogdensburgh. She was rescued when the English army attacked the town. After recovering from her adventure, Adeline has received and accepted a proposal from Sgt. Charles Houghton, an English soldier stationed at Ft. Wellington.

Thistledown Farm

Sunday, August 15, 1813

DearJanetta,

Oh how I wish I could truly talk to you face to face, Janetta. Mother’s last letter from Grandmother Price said that you were married to a magistrate and living in Bath. How grand! Now you are addressed as Mrs. Janetta Poole-Hasham and travel about in style visiting friends. How things have changed for both of us. I am so happy for you. I wonder if you will learn about my marriage. As the day grows closer, I can think of nothing else, although I must admit that the harvesting and sewing have me quite exhausted. I tried on my wedding outfit yesterday and it is quite handsome. Mother and Evvy are so clever with their sewing. All I can manae are some passable darns and servicable knitted stockings. Ah well, we are not to covet the talents of others.

Today has been a strange day, beginning with an early morning visit from Arthur and his new bride. Yes, I did say bride. Arthur eloped with Kathleen O’Meara, much to his parent’s chagrin, though I think their dismay wasn’t so much about Kathleen’s Irish catholic background as it was about her two brother’s treasonous actions with the enemy. Mind you, they haven’t been heard of since I was rescued from Ogdensburgh.

Arthur and Kathleen are living with old Mr. O’Meara at the moment as he is a widower. Kathleen is just as shy as ever, ducking her head as Arthur introduced her as Mrs. Arthur Randall. Then, just as they were leaving, Arthur turned to me and hissed,” Now, see Adeline, you haven’t hurt or broken my heart at all. Not like you’ve hurt my brother.!”

Honestly, I think Arthur is delusional. I am furious. How dare he insinuate that I gave his brother, Robert, any affection other that of an honest friend! I am convinced that ther is no feeling on Robert’s part, other than brotherly affection so I will give no credence to Arthur’s malevolence. I am truly relieved to know that Arthur will be occupied with things at the fort. Kathleen will be living at home until they find a place closer to Prescott.

The afternoon passed pleasantly enough until the supper hour with it was my chance to put a whole meal upon the table. The pork roast was thoroughly cooked, the vegetables were crisp but, I left the biscuits on the heat too long and they burned on the bottom and didn’t cook on the top. Oh, I despair of ever producing an edible bread for my husband. He will be wishing he’d waited to marry a good English girl with a generous dowry or at least a talent for cookery.

Dejectedly, Adeline.

A Hymn for Autumn

Here is a hymn I wrote for Autumn. It is the first hymn I created the music for with the help of my good friend, Harold Hellam. Harold arranged it for me. What a thrill to hear the congregation in our church sing it for the first time! Praise God for his many blessings.

Autumn Wears A Coat of Many Colours

Words by Mollie McKibbon

Music by Mollie McKibbon

Autumn wears a coat of many colours

Just like Joseph long ago:

Red and copper, gold and orange,

Everything in autumn glows.

God made all the colours of the rainbow,

Sky above and earth below;

Blue and purple, green and yellow,

Everything that lives and grows.

God made all his children like a rainbow,

Round and round the earth we go:

Eyes that sparkle, smiles that brighten.

It’s God’s love that makes us glow!

If you wish to use this hymn please contact me through this blog.

Adeline’s Journal: Summer 1813

Adeline’s Journal: A Fictional Account of a Young Woman’s Life During the War of 1812

Thistledown Farm Sunday, July 4, 1813

Dear Janetta,

Thank goodness for Sabbath. I am so fatigued today, my back hurts and my feet ache.

Father has fully recovered from his wound and is therefore now back at the fort, so the hay cutting has all been left to Henry, Mother, Evvy and me.

Elizabeth and William have been back at their farm since June, when William returned wounded from the attack on Sackett’s Harbour. Henry goes to their farm when he can, which hasn’t been too often, given the extra work we have here now.

William has been unable to work the land, so our crops are even more important as we will be sharing them. Providentially, we will probably have a double crop of hay this year, but it is good that Elizabeth has been able to put in a vegetable garden.

Of course, everybody has been faced with the same difficulties because of the war with the Americans. We are fortunate not to have lost family members, as some others have, not just to wounds but to grave illnesses. Arthur Randall had to return home from duty very ill with fever. He was thankfully, nursed back to health by his mother, but many others were not as blessed. Charles wrote me to say that two of his good friends in the troop died from dysentery and another is sick with mumps. Of course, the air at the barracks is often fetid in the heat. It must be unhealthy.

I am very relieved to know that Father and Charles have been mostly out on patrol along the St. Lawrence in the fresh air. Charles has a good friend in the Algonquian tribe, White Wolf who patrols with him. White Wolf ‘s family and tribe have not had these illnesses, but Charles once told me that measles have been known to be deadly in the past. It is very hard for little children, like our dear late Virginia, to fight off disease. Mother continues to mourn her passing every spring and no doubt every day.

My goodness, I am becoming most melancholy. On a cheerier note, Mr. Randall came by with Robert this morning to deliver a letter to mother from father and one to me from Charles. Charles has informed me that Father and he have spoken and Father now approves of our friendship. I am so happy that this is so. I am very fond of Charles and do enjoy every opportunity that we have together and every letter he sends me.

I was pleased to be able to talk to Robert and thank him for rescuing me from the battle in Ogdensburg. He insisted that it was what any soldier would have done for another, but I think he was being most modest. He said that he wasn’t sure who I was until he saw my strawberry blond braids. That was his description, Janetta. I’ve only ever thought of my hair as too dark to be blond and too pale to be auburn. I still wish my hair was black and curly like your’s. Ah well, I will simply have to put my hair up in rags each night forever to have any kind of ringlets. Evvy says I should use a curling iron, but frankly I don’t trust myself not to burn the hair off my head.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention, Robert’s drawings. He is quite an artist, you know. He was working away on a drawing this morning while he and his father waited for Mother to write a reply to Father’s letter. At first, he didn’t want me to see it, but I wheedled away at him until he showed it to me. It was the most exquisite drawing of a little chipmunk that lives in our woodpile. He said that I might keep it and so now it sits here on our desk. I will have to find some way to display it properly.

Always yours,

Adeline

Sunday, July 24,1813

Dear Janetta,

I am so happy I could burst! Today we had an unexpected visitor – Charles, himself. He had received special permission to call upon us with a big surprise. He has been given the rank of Sergeant and a pay raise comes with it. So now he is Sergeant Charles Houghton.

Charles arrived while I was in the henhouse and Evvy called me to come to the house. I must have looked quite a sight with my hair covered in hen feathers and straw, a grapevine basket over my arm filled with dirty eggs. I didn’t see Charles at first, as he had taken off his red jacket and was standing in the shadow of the little stone porch Father had made. I almost dropped the basket of eggs when he swooped me up in an embrace. I’m sure that I turned as red as his jacket.

“Charles!” I cried,”Everyone must be watching.”

“Oh, Adeline, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Charles stammered. “I am just so happy to see you, Sweetheart!”

Sweetheart? My head was buzzing with delighted confusion and my heart thudding like the fort drum. Had Charles just called me Sweetheart in front of my family who were surely within earshot?

Charles took the grapevine basket off my arm and set it down carefully and took both my filthy hands in his. His eyes, when I dared to look up, were shining and on his face was a tender, but tentative smile.

“Will you walk with me awhile, Adeline?”

“I really should wash and change, Charles, “ I pleaded. “I ‘m not fit to be seen.”

“ If you do not come with me just as you are, I shall surely die on the spot from anxiety.”

Mutely, I allowed Charles to hand in the basket of eggs to Evvy who was having a very hard time trying not to giggle.

We walked over to the well where there is a bench and I insisted on washing my hands. Before I could adequately dry them on my apron, Charles captured them again. He sat me down on the bench and then began to pace. My heart was thundering so hard in my chest, I was trembling.

“ I have thought over what I should say to you, a thousand times,” Charles said quietly, “but I can’t remember anything but this- I love you desperately, Adeline Price, and with your parent’s permission…”

Charles knelt on both knees before me.

“With your parent’s permission,” he repeated, “ I am putting my heart and future into your hands. Will you honour me by becoming my wife?”

Janetta, I truly thought my heart had stopped. I must have been in shock, because suddenly Charles squeezed my hands and said, in the most boyish voice, “You can take your time to answer, Adeline. I don’t expect…”

I didn’t allow the dear man to finish, Janetta. I leaned in to him and kissed him and answered, “ Certainly, I will marry you, Charles. I can’t imagine a life with any other.”

At this point, Mother, Henry, and Evvy who had been watching from the porch, rushed over to embrace us both and celebrate our betrothal.

I still cannot believe it, Janetta, but at the end of August, I will marry Sergeant Charles Houghton and begin the rest of my life.

Happily,

Adeline

Monday, August 9, 1813

Dear Janetta,

This summer is going by so swiftly, that I have had barely time to think. We are pickling beans as soon as we pick them and what we don’t pickle we dry. Charles and I haven’t seen each other since he proposed, but we keep in touch with letters back and forth. We have decided to be married quietly with no celebration, because of the instability of wartime. Father and Mother would prefer us to wait until after the conflict is resolved, but Charles and I don’t want a long betrothal. We have received permission from Lt. Colonel MacDonell to be married. It will be at the blue church with only my family and Charles’ best friend, John, as witnesses. Afterward, we will travel back to Thistledown Farm for a family dinner and then Charles and I will spend a night at William and Elizabeth’s cabin alone.

We can not live at the unfinished fort barracks so Father is giving us a piece of property close to Johnstown as a wedding gift. Our cabin will be built there by Father, Henry, Charles, and the Randalls whenever they have an opportunity. I expect I will have to live at home for a while as the cabin is not likely to be finished by autumn. It would be wonderful to think that there will be no further attacks from our southern neighbours, but it isn’t likely so I expect there will be little time for building.

I have visited the property with Mr. Randall so that I could choose a pretty aspect for our home and show him where I would like the hen house and pig sty to be. We will have five acres, partly treed and three acres of rolling meadow. There is a creek running through it and a small blueberry bog. We won’t have a barn right away, but Mr. Randall has promised me a lean-to stable for our horse and space for a cow. Now I am glad that I spent time making linens and a quilt for our bed. Mother has promised us ticks and mattress. Evvy and I are gathering down for the ticks. The kitchen will take more time, as we need an iron kettle, spoons and bread pans, not to forget crockery and utensils.

I despaired of a wedding dress, until Mother promised that she would makeover her maroon silk gown, and she thinks there is enough material for her to make a short cape as well.

With much excitement,

Adeline

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