Pen – Page 8 – penpaletteheart

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: November-December 1814

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal © by Mollie Pearce McKibbon 2014

This is a fictional journal written by a young woman settled in Edwardsburg Township during the war of 1812.

Sunday, November 27, 1814

Dear Janetta,

I have been so occupied with my sons, that I haven’t had an opportunity to take up my quill pen until today. Elizabeth and William stopped by to join us for our Bible lesson and some hymns and stayed to share our midday meal so Vickie is keeping Charles and Andrew amused now that she can toddle around. I have received another letter from England, this time from Persephone Meldrum, Charle’s married sister. This is what she wrote:

“Dearest Sister-in-Law,

I do hope you think of me as a sister and know how gratified I am that Charles wrote to us about your marriage. I fear that you may not have felt welcomed to our family. You must understand that our father was distraught at the news of Charles’ murder and naturally upset that he was not able to deal with the necessary inquiry himself.

I pray that you have begun to recover from your natural grief. I expect your children are a great consolation. I know that my father is about to offer to educate Charles and Andrew here in England and will tell you my husband, Percival Meldrum Esquire, and myself have a very comfortable accommodation for your sons here at Meldrum Manor. Nanny Parsons is in charge of our three daughters, Leona, Lavinia and Lydia and is quite prepared to take on two more children. We will of course, employ an extra tutor for your sons and treat them as if they were ours. They will also be attended by our own physician Mr. Bell, who is much respected in the highest society.

Please, do not feel at all compelled to send your children to England, but you need to be informed of the advantages of which they will be assured. Father has even now making arrangements at Oxford College for their future studies should they have the aptitude. If not, they will be certain of a commission in the army.

I anticipate with much pleasure, meeting you and my two nephews next spring.

With fondest regards,

Persephone Houghton-Meldrum”

Persephone seems to be very considerate of my feelings and it is generous of her and her husband to accept the great imposition of my children into their home, but I cannot bear the thought of being separated from my boys. I showed Mother and Father the letter and they only remarked that it seemed a good opportunity for my sons to earn their way in society, but they have been careful not to press me to conform to the wishes of the Houghton family.

Am I being selfish keeping my children with me, when they could have a comfortable future back in England? I wonder what Robert would advise me to do. Perhaps I should ask him when next he brings his mother to visit.

Anxiously,

Adeline

Sunday, Dec. 18,1814

Janetta,

Wonderful news, just before Christmas! Bourke has been captured by White Wolf and Robert. He was trying to get back across the St. Lawrence. He has been incarcerated in the jail at the fort in Prescott. My sons and I will sleep much more safely from now on although I will need to go to Fort Welllington to identify him as my persecutor. I hope this is the last we hear of him.

Happily,

Adeline

A Hymn for Advent

Gift of God, Sweet Mary’s Boy

Child of heaven, once foretold

By God’s prophets long ago.

Come into our hearts today;

Sit beside us while we pray.

Gift of God, Sweet Mary’s Boy,

You are peace, hope, love and joy!

*************

Old Isaiah heard your name,

Jeremiah, Micah too.

Malachi prepared the way;

Zephaniah told his day.

Gift from God, Sweet Mary’s Boy,

You are peace, hope, love and joy!

***************

Shepherd promised, Child of Light,

Come and shine our dark away,

We, like magi, seek your star,

Wand’ring sheep, we’ve gone too far.

Gift from God, Sweet Mary’s Boy,

You are peace, hope, love and joy!

*****************

Immanuel, full of grace,

Branch from Jesse, Mighty King,

Humble Servant, God’s own Son,

We worship You, O Holy One.

Gift of God, Sweet Mary’s Boy,

You are peace, hope, love and joy!

Poem for Christmas

Shines A Star

Above all shines a star

With a light so bright,

Even in the darkness

It makes day of night.

Shining in the heavens

On the earth below,

All is hushed and waiting,

Longing now to know.

**********

In a humble stable

Where cattle are found,

Everything is silent,

Not a single sound.

Not one sheep is bleating,

Nor do cattle low,

All is hushed and waiting,

Longing now to know.

***********

Upon the hills around

Heaven’s music swells;

In angelic voices

Ring out holy bells.

Sing now hallelujahs

Loving hearts can hear;

Kneel in adoration,

God will soon appear.

********

Has God come in glory,

In bright robes of gold,

With a celestial army

As was once foretold?

No, not in all beauty

With power and might,

But as a helpless baby

In the darkest night.

*********

No one had suspected,

Such a wondrous plan

Holiness perfected

In the heart of man.

Jesus, fair Jesus,

Born in humble stall,

God’s holy Word alive,

His love redeeming all.

‘Membrance Day

‘Membrance Day

Last week my Grampa put out all his medals on the dining room table. Then he got out the polish and a big cloth. He spent a long time putting the white stuff on the medals and then he wiped it with the cloth. He cleaned them a long time and when he was done he asked me to look at them very carefully to see if he missed anything. He says that my eyes are much sharper than his are, but I didn’t see any speck of dirt on them.

After he cleaned all the medals he told me what they all were for and why he got them in the war. Whenever Grampa puts on his medals he puts on his uniform. Mommy takes it to the cleaners for him, especially for ‘Membrance Day. When he puts it on he says that he thinks the cleaner people must have shrunk it, but Mommy just smiles and then she takes off the shiny buttons and sews them back in a different place.

I like it when Grampa gets dressed in his uniform. He tells me to stand at attention and then he salutes. He shows me how to march right, left, right, left. He has to practice so that he can march in a parade.

I like parades. I like the big drums and the bag pipes, though they always make me cover my ears. Mom and I dress in our warmest clothes and we stand on the sidewalk near Mr. Jensen’s bakery to watch the parade going by. I stand in front so that I can see Grampa. He looks straight ahead as he marches by but I know he sees us.

After the parade, we go to the big statue in front of the Town Hall and we stand near Grampa. A soldier plays a bugle and everyone bows their heads. Grampa’s eyes always bother him and he has to wipe them with his handkerchief. He says that the wind blows dirt into them and I guess the wind bothers a lot of those other men too.

This year my Grampa helped the Silver Cross Mother take a wreath up to the statue. I asked Mommy why the mother had a silver cross and she said that the government had given it to her because she had lost her son in a war. She told me that Daddy’s mother has a silver cross too. I don’t know why she has one though, because my Daddy isn’t lost. We know ‘xactly where he is. We go to visit a big park with lots of stones called a cem’tary and his name is on one of the stones. We take flowers there every Sunday and my mommy is sad.

I was much littler when my Daddy went to ‘Ghanistan’ so sometimes I forget his voice, but Mommy lets me listen to a CD he made for us when he was there and I ‘member. I guess that’s what ‘Membrance Day is for. I guess Grampa is ‘membering. Maybe it makes his throat hurt too.

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: November 1814

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: November 1814

A fictional journal of the War of 1812 as it might have been experienced by a young woman in Upper Canada near Ft.Wellington.

Saturday, November 14, 1814

Dear Janetta,

Robert and his mother visited us to bring us our mail and so that Regina could see how my two sons are progressing. Charlie and Andrew are making attempts to sit up now and are reaching out for anything within their view. They both smile and coo at us and are good natured most of the time. Charlie tends to be more adventuresome, but Andrew who is quite a mimic, seems to be watching whatever we say and trying to repeat it. They both enjoy our walks and are growing so fast they will soon need new beds. Father was thinking of constructing a trundle bed with a bit of a railing and has begun to look for some nice maple from which to construct it.

There was a rather unpleasant surprise in our mail. Charles’ father had written another letter to me personally. It acknowledged my exoneration in the death of my husband, but offered no apology. This is the rest of what he wrote:

“My son, Charles’ brother, Everett, informed me that you have two children whom you claim to be Charles’ progeny. If they are indeed his, I would naturally wish to see them and feel an obligation to provide them with a proper upbringing here in England. Please be advised that this is not an opportunity for you to make any claim of inheritance for them, or a pension for yourself. I would simply give them a home, healthy food and a good education so that they might find employment in the army or in the clergy and acquit themselves as any honourable Houghton sons would. You may think on this subject until the spring, at which time my daughter Persephone will travel to Canada to fetch them.”

Well, you might guess my reply. No one will take my sons from me. No one.

With passionate determination,

Adeline

Spooky Poems

Spooks!

Ghosts and goblins at my door,

Ravens quoting, “Never more,”

Creatures big and creatures small,

Some who’ve barely learned to crawl,

Armed with bags and pillow cases,

Grinning pumpkins, scary faces.

Somewhere from around my feet

Comes the chorus – “Trick or treat!”

On Hallowe’en Night

The cats on the fence are yowling,

Distant coyotes are howling,

Ghosties and goblins are prowling

On Hallowe’en night!

******

Bats through the trees are winging,

Bell Tower ropes are swinging,

Tots to their mothers are clinging,

On Hallowe’en night!

*********

Dry leaves across roads go skittering,

And candy wrappers are littering,

As trick or treaters go flittering,

On Hallowe’en night!

**********

Blackened tree branches are creaking,

The wind round corners is shrieking,

Teenagers go hide and seeking,

On Hallowe’en night!

************

Pumpkins alight are dimming,

Spiders their webs are spinning,

The onrush of treaters is thinning,

On Hallowe’en night!

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: October 1814

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal: October 1814

©by Mollie Pearce McKibbon

The fictional journal of a young woman, Adeline Price, during the War of 1812. Adeline is the oldest daughter of the family. Her father inherited property from an older brother in what is now Edwardsburg township and he and his son, William, were recruited in the local militia during the war. Adeline married a British soldier, Sgt. Charles Houghton, who died just after the Battle at Crysler’s Farm, leaving her a widow with twin infant sons. Adeline has a younger sister, Eveline, and a younger brother, Henry.

Sunday, Oct.2,1814

Dear Janetta,

Yesterday was a glorious golden and scarlet fall day. Sadly, it was also the day we laid Arthur’s wife, Kathleen, to rest.

I have been so absorbed with my own problems I have never even remarked on the birth on July 12, of their son, Adam Patrick Randall. It was a name that Kathleen chose and Arthur agreed to. I was quite amazed at the time that meek little Kathleen had shown enough spunk to insist upon it. She had a difficult time of the birth and despite Mrs. Randall’s closest attention and even the last minute insistence of her father that the fort physician see to her, Kathleen never seemed to recover her full strength. She died suddenly after a short bout of influenza. I think honestly, she was just worn out and the birth of a baby was the final stitch in her shroud.

It was a very sad affair. Arthur was grim and seems to have no affection at all for his tiny son. Mrs. Randall hired a woman from a farm near Spencer’s mill who had just lost a baby girl, as a wet nurse for Adam and plans to bring the boy up herself as soon as he is weaned. Mr. O’Meara, who is terribly overweight and lame, blubbered through the whole graveside service, not, I suspect, because he was grieving for his daughter, but because he has been abandoned to his own devices without her. Arthur left to join his division and the rest of us, huddled together over the grave to say our personal goodbyes. Though I didn’t know her well, I felt sorry for her and for her abandoned baby.

Robert is furious with his brother. He is such a responsible person that I am sure his chagrin is mixed with sadness for little Adam. He is still recovering from his Lundy Lane wound. He looked pale and I saw him wincing more than once as we paid our respects. My heart aches for Mr. and Mrs. Randall. I know that they are worried about their youngest son and very upset that he is not being the father he ought to be. Perhaps Arthur is so bereaved he can’t bear to be around the baby. I have heard of such things, but I think it is reprehensible. I cannot imagine my Charles being so heartless.

Wishing for peace,

Adeline

Sunday, Oct. 23, 1814

Dear Janetta,

Almost all the harvest is in and Evvy, Mother and I have been turning out the house to get ready for winter. Most of the trees have shed their leaves and the air is much colder. My boys are four months old now and a lot more busy. I can’t leave them anywhere for long as they get very restless and begin to fuss. Mother has fixed me a sort of sling to put one child on my chest and the other on my back so that I can go walking with them. Sometimes, Evvy takes one and we go together, but we daren’t stray far from the house for fear of Bourke.

Fighting has gone on all this autumn and there have been heavy casualties on both sides. Mr. Hector Hamish Hamilton has been visiting Evvy on a number of occasions. He seems to be hoping that propinquity will aid his suit. Evvy is more amused than annoyed, but I don’t think that providence is on his side.

Hector is a good source of information about the events of the ongoing war. He told us about the attack that General Prevost had planned against the naval base in Plattsburgh. General Prevost had to wait until the British naval squadron could engage the American squadron, so that he and the troops could attack the town. The squadron arrived on September 11 and fought fiercely against the Americans, but had finally to surrender, both sides losing 250 men. General Prevost decided to retreat, as pressing his attack without naval assistance was impossible. The soldiers who returned from the battle reported that the noise of the naval canon fire was so thunderous they could feel reverberating in their own breasts and the ground seemed to shake underfoot.

There was also a fierce battle over Ft. Erie which Lt. General Drummond had surrounded but his army was quickly running out of supplies. The Americans in the fort suddenly attacked our soldiers on September 17, but were forced back with help of the native warriors. Now Lt. General Drummond has a strong position to defend on the Chippewa River.

Hector was most excited about the commissioning of the 100 gun ship St. Lawrence. He said it is the largest ship to sail on the Great Lakes and that it put the American navy in its place in a short time. He told us all this with much enthusiasm and almost knocked over a candle stick with his sweeping hand gesture when describing how it had turned the tide and regained British supremacy on Lake Ontario.

Hector has a very fine red handlebar mustache which causes Henry much hilarity, though thank goodness, he manages to keep it to himself until Hector departs. It is rather amazing the workout it gets when Hector is speaking and somehow always ends up in his teacup, which embarrasses him terribly. Still, it is kind of him to visit and keep us informed as Father and William have been too busy to attend to much more than our farm. Hopefully, the war will be over soon.

Affectionately,

Adeline

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal : September 1814

Adeline’s War of 1812 Journal : September 1814

A fictional account of a young woman’s experiences in Upper Canada during the war of 1812.

Saturday, Sept. 4, 1814

Thistledown Farm

Dear Janetta,

Our little cold cellar is so full of vegetables now, I doubt I could hide even one child in there. It has been an extraordinary year for root vegetables and mother is exhausted from making jams and pickled vegetables. Evvy and I are tired of picking them. Father and William have been busy bringing in the grain harvest and our corn crib is well filled.

There has been no sign of Bourke thank goodness, but Father has set Henry on guard whenever Mother and Evvy have to help in the fields. White Wolf followed Bourke’s tracks to the place where Bourke and the O’Meara’s crossed over to Ogdensburg so he has eluded capture once again by crossing the river.

With exasperation,

Adeline

Sept. 18, 1814

Dear Janetta,

Father and I were summoned to Fort Wellington yesterday and so I went with my babes bundled up. I didn’t know what to expect as we were led to believe that the message engraved on the cabin door had exonerated me from all suspicion in the death of Charles. The fort is still under construction so there was the constant sounds of sawing and hammering while we were there. There is also great preparation for winter going on and many of the men who live outside the stockade have been making their shacks more winter-proof as they know now how cold a Canadian winter can be. The woodpile is stacked high within the stockade and army wives are keeping busy knitting warm socks, hats and mitts for the men as I have for my boys.

While at the fort, I received a most alarming shock. At first I heard his voice and turned my head to see a slightly shorter version of my dear Charles. He was standing by the window of the commander’s office talking to some of the soldiers outside and his voice was eerily like his brother’s. They were discussing a recent report of the activities of Major-General Ross and Rear-Admiral Cockburn who had taken a small force and attacked a much larger American force which they defeated. Evidently, Charles‘ older brother, whom I deduced this almost double was, had been in the force that had taken Washington and burned several buildings there, one of which was the presidential residence.

“It was quite astonishing, really,” I heard him say, “the table was all set for a diplomatic banquet and so we felt quite touched that Mrs. Dolly Madison had prepared such a pleasant feast for our enjoyment.”

The men outside guffawed quite heartily at the thought of the invading army sitting down to dinner before burning the place.

“Sadly, we were unable to thank our hostess,” he added, “ as she had fled the premises.”

I confess at that moment I greatly sympathized with Mrs. Madison. I too had lost my home and all my possessions to a fire started by my enemy.

There was more genial laughter and at that point the commanding officer entered the room.

Father had pulled up a chair for me and I sat there with Charlie in my arms. Father was holding Andrew and rocking a bit on his feet.

The Lt. Colonel cleared his throat and the Captain straightened his uniform and saluted. At that point he suddenly seemed to notice me. I must admit, I was staring at him. He looked so much like his brother, although his hair was brown and his mustache was thicker.

The fort’s commander addressed us.

“Widow Houghton and Lt. Price, thank you for coming today. I wanted to inform you of the state of affairs concerning the death of Sgt. Houghton.” He turned to Captain Houghton and made the polite introductions. Captain Houghton made a curt bow.

“I have here a letter for your father, Captain, in which I have included a fair copy of Constable Breton’s report in which he completely exonerates Mrs. Houghton of any part in her husband’s murder. Constable Breton is presently following other lines of inquiry.”

“Lt. General Pearson, I appreciate your attention to this matter,” declared Captain Houghton, “ but having read the report myself,

I rather doubt that my father will be satisfied with the constable’s conclusions. Some scratchings on a door and a home that has conveniently burned to the ground is hardly proof of innocence. I would think it is, rather, a feeble attempt concocted to avert suspicion from the true culprit.”

I began to open my mouth when my father leapt to my defence.

“Excuse me Captain,” he said thrusting Andrew into my arms and stepping forward to face Captain Houghton, “are you implying that somehow we set fire to my daughter’s home to convince the constable of her innocence?”

“I am simply stating, sir, that I did not find the report credible. I do not believe every effort has been made to apprehend Charles’ murderer and I do not believe my father will be any more persuaded than I.”

“ My daughter, Captain Houghton, has been deprived of a husband and a father for her children. She has been deprived of her home and of any income. She has made no demands of Charles’ family, other than the respect due her position as his widow. Her mother and I are now her sole support. If you dare to think that we have had any part in this tragic situation you lack the intelligence that a gentleman of your education and background should have.”

The captain began to protest and my father interrupted him.

“Thank you for your report, Lt. General Pearson. My daughter and I will be leaving now and we wish no further communication from the Houghton family of any sort. Good-day.”

And so we left Ft. Wellington, without the intended visit to see Col. Jessup. Father was too angry to speak as he drove our cart home but he squeezed my hand tightly as we drove back through the dusk. My heart was pounding and my throat hurt from holding back the tears.

Sadly,

Adeline

An Ode to a Lawn

Lawn Au Naturel

Dandelion salad, dandelion wine,

Don’t you wish your lawn was mine?

Dandelion fuzz balls standing tall,

How very sad that you have none at all.

Dandelion wishes, dandelion schemes,

Buttercup kisses, dandelion dreams.

Please, keep your roses, I’m beguiled

By wild flower bouquets picked by a child.

Spraying and digging may seem wise but

Dandelions are just sunshine in disguise.

A Poem for Harvest

Garden Gems

My table is laden with finest treasure

That has ever given my palate pleasure:

Ruby tomatoes and emerald cukes bright

Fresh- picked from vines, epicurean delight!

There are topaz carrots and peridot peas,

Among plump golden pumpkins sure to please.

The pearly white onions and amethyst beets

With great garnet radishes make dreams complete.

What more wondrous wealth could ever be found

Than delicious jewels mined from fertile ground?

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this: