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Adeline’s Journal: December 5 – 26, 1813

Thistledown Farm

December 5, 1813

Dear Janetta,

These last days have been very hard. I am so jittery and yet heavy at heart. It is difficult for me to make up my mind about anything and now my health seems to be suffering as well. I would be just as pleased to lay abed as get up and when I am up I feel so ill I could crawl back under the covers. A weariness comes over me at the oddest times and mother has noted it. I do not wish to be a worry to her or Father and yet here I sit, unable to finish the simplest task without tearing up. Perhaps things will be better in the spring, when the ground has thawed enough for us to bury my husband properly.

Mother and Evvy have been urging me to go to see the doctor in Johnstown, or at least consult dear Mrs. Randall. They are convinced that I need a tonic of some sort. Perhaps it would be prudent. In that case, I would much prefer Mrs. Randall’s advice. She is our nurse/midwife, after all and knows many remedies that doctors do not, things she learned in her old Scottish home and things that she has learned from the elder women of White Wolf’s lodge.I shall ask William to take me over to see Mrs. Randall and that will put Mother’s mind to rest.

Hopefully, Adeline

Thistledown Farm,

Friday, December 10, 1813

Dear Janetta,

Wonderful news! I am an aunt now. Elizabeth was delivered of a lovely little girl baby. William has decided to name her Victoria

Elizabeth” after our dear departed sister. Victoria and Elizabeth are staying here a week or so until Elizabeth gains her strength back. Her labour lasted more than a day and she is exhausted, but “Vicky” as we call her, is a strong little baby who makes her demands known in no uncertain terms. Mother is laughing again, as she used to and I find her cuddling our new resident very often though Elizabeth protests that Vicky will be spoiled beyond all hope of redemption.

Mrs. Randall attended Vicky’s birth, but was so busy with Elizabeth, she had only time to ask me a few questions, look me over quickly and sigh. She said that she would take time to talk to me in a day or so when things were a bit more settled around here. Her serious demeanor somewhat alarmed me, but I don’t have time to think about much more than helping Elizabeth with the baby and preparing meals with Mother.

Hurriedly, Adeline

Thistledown Farm

Sunday, December 12, 1813

Dear Janetta,

If my writing is barely legible it will be no wonder. I am still shaking from my visit with Mrs. Randall. Robert brought her back today to look in on our newest family member and her mother. She is very pleased with Elizabeth and Vicky. William is beaming ear to ear, although none of us got much sleep last night with the baby waking every three hours for her feeding. Once she was satisfied with the progress of her charges, Mrs. Randall sat me down with my parents for a serious discussion.

To say I was concerned would be stating it verymildly. First of all, Mrs. Randall asked me how I was feeling generally, aside from my obvious grief. I told her that I was extremely tired and that sometimes, although I have a good appetite, I can’t always keep my food down, but that seemed to be happening less and less. I asked her if there was a tonic I could take and she patted my hand. Then she asked me in a very low voice, if I had missed my monthly and I looked at her in shock.

“Oh, it can’t be that, can it?” I’m sure I turned paper white.

Mrs. Randall smiled and patted my hand again. “Yes, my dear, it can be. I believe you are expecting a little one, probably this spring.”

You can imagine my astonishment. Mother and Father came immediately to my side. Robert left the room.

“Oh Adeline, we will have another little one. How wonderful!” My mother’s eyes were filled with tears as she embraced me. My father looked very serious. He assured me that they would be helping as much as they could. I could only think of my dear Charles and that his child would never know him. I felt numbed and I must say, I still do.

Sadly,

Adeline

Thistledown Farm

December 26, 1813

Dear Janetta,

Mother, Eveline, Elizabeth and I have been knitting and sewing every spare moment. Vicky needs winter clothing and we are also preparing for my child. I try to imagine how our child will look – more like Charles I hope. I have come to think of the baby as a precious proof of our love for each other, but I do worry about how I shall provide for my little one.

Christmas was quiet. We did exchange gifts. Elizabeth had made warm scarves for Mother, Eveline and me and thick wool socks for Father and Henry. Eveline gave me a pretty pair of baby nightgowns embroidered with tiny blue birds. Henry and Father made me a fine pine cradle and mother had made a soft tick for it out of one of Henry’s old shirts. We sang carols and Father led us in prayer. Afterwards Mother and Eveline served us a good supper of roasted wild turkey that Father had caught, with some potatoes, turnips, and onions. I had made the dessert, a maple pudding over baked apples which turned out very well. We sat around the fire and Father read some poetry aloud. Mother had a bundle of letters from our cousins in England that she had been saving to read aloud. They were full of Christmas greetings and news about the war in Europe.

There was a great victory in Europe. Our Uncle Nestor’s son, Ralph, is serving in the Royal Horse Artillery and his unit, the rocket artillery, was fighting under the command of the Swedish general in Saxony near Leipzig. He lost the sight in his left eye in the battle and is now back home in England. Grandmother Price is relieved that there will be no more soldiering for him. We have two cousins from my mother’s side of the family serving on two different ships in the Royal Navy. They were still at sea when Grandmama wrote her letter. There is great hope that they will be home soon though, now that Napoleon had to scurry back to France. Of course, that news is a month old. There has still been no reply to Charles’ letter about our marriage from his family. Perhaps they are not pleased. Or the letter maybe at the bottom of the St. Lawrence.

I long to go back to Blueberry Creek Farm.

Your friend,

Adeline + One

Cards For Fathers

Here are four of the cards I made for Father’s Day in the local nursing home. The ideas came from various Pinterest postings. Pinterest is a veritable crafter’s treasure chest of ideas. Thank you to the crafter’s who share their great ideas. The message inside the card is simply “Happy Father’s Day”.

Another "tie-rrific" card. — Another “tie-rrific” card.

An Experiment in Still Life Drawing

This is a drawing I did from a photograph taken by Lillian Bell (Paint My Photo).

Drawing from Music

Many things can inspire me. This is a quick drawing I did yesterday while listening to a tender piano melody.

Open the Clouds – a hymn for the Spring

Open the Clouds

8 5 8 5

Open the clouds, let the rain fall,

Let it fall on me.

I’m in need of cleansing, O Lord,

Let the rain fall on me.

Open the clouds, let the sun shine,

Let it shine on me.

I’m in need of your light, O Lord,

Your Son shine on me.

Open the clouds, let the wind blow,

Let it blow on me.

Put the Spirit wind in my sails,

Let it blow on me.

Open the clouds, let the world know,

Show the world through me.

The world needs to know You are Love,

Show the world through me.

I Was – an Easter Hymn

I Was

I was the whiplash and I was the thorns

That made my Saviour bleed.

It’s sin that caused him pain and suffering,

But he’s forgiven me.

Refrain:

He paid the price for me.

He paid and set me free.

Jesus, Jesus, my precious Lord,

He paid the price for me.

I was the hammer and I was the nails

That pierced his hands and feet.

My sins were laid upon his dear head

And he paid the full receipt.

I was the sword plunged into his body

To prove that he had died.

And I was the stone that sealed his tomb,

But he rose on Eastertide!

Easter Crafts: I’ve Been Busy

Here are some of the things I have been making for Easter decorations;

Springtime Poetry

Hopefully Spring is just around the (brrrr) corner. Here are two poems I wrote for spring.

Line Dancing

My clothesline is doing the salsa today –

It took the blue denims to get underway.

My flannelette nightie is starting to swing,

While the red plaid pajamas perform highland flings.

The white percale sheets with their corners so neat

Are twirling and swirling, a marvelous feat!

And Granny’s old housecoat twists in the breeze

With Junior’s bermudas and daughter’s bright T’s.

You’ll never see a fandango so fine

As my laundry is dancing all over the line.

Spring Song

Flowers for a bouquet,

Tadpoles in a jar,

Rocks inside our pockets

So we know where they are.

We skipped across the meadow,

Splashed across the pond,

Climbed up all the hillsides

To see the farms beyond.

Cattails are aplenty,

Pussy willows too,

Busy bees are buzzing,

Now what’s left for us to do?

A Hymn for the Lord’s Supper

The Table of The Lord

Our food is here, the table spread;

We poured the wine and broke the bread.

This costly meal none can afford,

Provided freely by our Lord

Come drink the wine and eat the bread;

Come hear the words our Master said,

“This is my body and my blood,

Now love each other as you should.”

“I spend my life-blood for your sake,

And though my body they will break,

My friends, I promise you will be

One day in paradise with me.

For the Lord's Supper — For the Lord’s Supper

Our food is here, the table spread;

We poured the wine and broke the bread.

This costly meal none can afford,

Provided freely by our Lord.

Adeline’s 1812 Journal for November 1813

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

Thistledown Farm

Wednesday, November 17

Dear Diary,

This has been a very somber day for our family. We had the unhappy duty of burying my brother-in-law, Charles, who was murdered by persons as yet unknown, while tending to his animals on Monday last. Addie is beside herself with grief and none of us can understand how someone so well-liked could come through a major battle unscathed only to be cut down yards away from his cabin door. William, Robert Randall and White Wolf are scouring the forest for whatever coward saw fit to shoot my dear brother-in-law in the back.

Addie was writing in her journal when it occurred and the shot startled her. She immediately ran out to the lean-to in time to see Charles attempting to crawl to the cabin. She told us that he managed to say,” Sorry, Addie” and then died in her arms. At first, she didn’t completely take in what had happened. Then, she , in a daze, saddled her horse, Goldie, and rode all the way to the O’Meara’s where she found Arthur. Arthur said she was hysterical, but he and his wife, made her tea and heard the story. Then he went to get Robert and Mr. Randall, who drove the wagon to Blueberry Creek for the body.

I was setting the table for supper when Father, as pale as the snow, came rushing in to tell us that Mr. Randall had arrived with Charles’ body. He said that Robert and Arthur were not far behind with Adeline. Mother immediately sent Henry to fetch William.

Adeline is inconsolable, but Mother says that it is best that she cry now. I know that she is trying not to upset us, but she cried herself to sleep beside me last night and when I woke up her cheeks were wet. My heart aches for her. She didn’t want anything to eat, but I pressed her to at least have some toast and tea. She ate it and then immediately fled to the outhouse. I suppose that is to be expected under the circumstances.

Sadly,

Evvy.

Thistledown Farm

November 24, 1813

Dearest Janetta,

I have been Mrs. Charles Houghton for such a short time and now….now I am a widow. I can hardly write this, but mother thinks it might help me. I must apologize for all the smudges. The tears come on me unbidden. I am trying to keep busy, but I break down so often, I’m of little use. The funeral was very brief – it is winter. In the spring we will bury Charles in the orchard beside Uncle Andrew and dear little Virginia. Mr. Randall built a good coffin and we lined it with my wedding dress , I could never wear it again. Father is preparing a fine field stone memorial with his initials and the date. I have tried to write his parents, but how do I write such awful news to people I’ve never met, people who have never even acknowledged our marriage?

Everyone has been very kind, although I did have to answer a lot of questions from the Lt. Colonel because Charles was murdered. I am so fortunate that my family is known and respected, because I have no witnesses and Charles….was shot in the back. Such a cowardly act! I keep thinking, that if only I had gone to look after the animals as usual, Charles might still be alive.

Last night, after Evvy fell asleep, Mother came upstairs and sat beside me on the bed. She held me in her arms and whispered that she had hoped that I would never have to suffer such a terrible loss so young. Then we both cried.

From now on I shall take my tears outside. I don’t wish to add my grief to what Mother bears already. Somehow, I must gather myself together and carry on. I have a farm to manage and animals for which to care. Father wants me to stay here for the winter…I’m not sure. Robert and Arthur have vowed to find the villain, but all I can remember of that terrible day is the sound of the musket and Pirate barking.

Your heartbroken friend,

Adeline

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