In Mercy’s extract of her diary in the Guardian she added this note to her entry on October 27 in Montreal:
On arriving at the hotel I was surprised to find that I was the invalid for whom preparations had been made. Evidently Mr. Macdonald, who had always proved a very kind friend to me [emphasis mine], had telegraphed ahead. I found the room which had been assigned to me equipped with a large fireplace. They must have been somewhat astonished to see the invalid acting in such a sprightly way as I did.
It’s hard to say whether John A. was simply courting Mercy for political expediency, or if he was truly interested in her. In terms of our political understanding, the former seems more likely, but Mercy had taken his intentions seriously to some degree.
Whatever may have been the case at the time, one is left to wonder when and how Macdonald had “always proved a very kind friend to [her]” later. He did visit Prince Edward Island, and stayed in Charlottetown after he married again (he was a widower when Mercy knew him), and perhaps Mercy and he maintained some contact. Her obituary noted that she did keep in contact with many of the men she’d met at the Confederation conferences. Nevertheless, the friendship must have been hampered by George Coles and Macdonald’s later relationship, as Macdonald would write to Colonel Gray in March 1865, bidding him to say hello to those in PEI whom Macdonald knew, “always excepting Messrs. Palmer and Coles.”4
Did Mercy truly care? Was she affected by Macdonald’s attention or lack thereof? Macdonald was one of the most famous and charismatic men at the conference. He paid her attention, and she obviously liked receiving his attention. Mercy writes a good bit about him, and fairly openly. She feels, and one can agree with her, that Macdonald could be courting her. And there is no reason to believe that that wasn’t a possibility. But it could have been strictly friendly political expediency, too. Mercy continued to write of Macdonald, and the attention he paid to her, in Ottawa, and at the end of the conference tour in Toronto.
Mercy’s understanding of the situation is intriguing, because if Macdonald were serious, as she considered him to be — if he’d continued his courting, and if she hadn’t been away sick — Canada’s history, and perhaps Prince Edward Island’s history, as well as her own, no doubt, would be different.
* * *
* Madame Duval was the wife of Justice Jean-François-Joseph Duval, Court of Queen’s Bench, Canada East.
** From the Charlottetown Guardian, June 30, 1917: “The Doctor showed me a photograph of his daughter who had died of diphtheria. She was a lovely child and he felt for her death very much.” This meant that Emma was his only daughter — whom he later travelled across the prairies in December of 1869 to “rescue” from Louis Riel during the Red River Rebellion.
*** This was the Bachelors’ Ball, held at the parliament buildings.
**** This discussion, on Sunday, October 23, was the first occasion when Mercy references a conundrum to do with Macdonald. It was clearly a riddle. The second instance is on October 26, and that reference does not appear to allude to a riddle.
***** Presumably it was Livernois, in Quebec City, taking the photographs of the delegates and of the wives and daughters. Livernois was one of the well-known photographers in Quebec then, and he did take some of the group photos of the Fathers preserved by Library and Archives Canada (LAC). No photographs of the women have been discovered yet, but presumably he also took theirs, as Mercy writes that her mother had hers done. Likely, the other women did, too, as Mercy noted she would have hers done in Montreal if she could. Sadly, the full collection of Livernois’s photographs has not been preserved, as William Notman’s in Montreal was by the McCord Museum. Still, somewhere, perhaps in the keeping of the descendants of the “Daughters” of Confederation, there may yet be discovered the photographs of the young women who went to Quebec.
****** Though Mercy doesn’t say much about this rock slide, four people were killed; not the baby she’d heard of, but two children, and the parents of one. The newspapers made a lot of it, but the delegates didn’t make any public comments on it.
******* An “old humbug” in 1864 referred to someone who teased and tried to hoodwink or fool others — but in a way so flagrant that the truth was obvious. Macdonald was known to be a great teaser and player of tricks. He must have been having fun at dinner, which Mercy is commenting on.
Seven
What She Said — A Woman’s Point of View
Without Mercy Coles’s or Feo Monck’s writings, we’re left with a significantly incomplete account of the events of Confederation. Though Feo wasn’t present for all of the conference goings-on, she did attend events Mercy was unable to because of her illness. Mercy’s status and experience were far different from those of the upper-class Feo, but Feo is able to give us the inside look from a woman’s point of view, and from that of someone not tied to the political outcomes. Her diary gives us a chance to see how Mercy and the other young women may have experienced the events.
Of the Ball at Madame Tessier’s on October 19, Edward Whelan wrote in his Union of the British Provinces:
All the delegates and the dignitaries of the Crown in Quebec, together with some of its best society in the private walks of life, accepted the generous invitation; and after many pleasant hours, left the ballroom with the impression that they had enjoyed one of the happiest reunions ever experienced by them.
Feo’s My Canadian Leaves, similar to Mercy’s “Extracts of a Diary” in the Guardian, leaves out many of her juicier, and perhaps more honest, notes. As W.L. Morton points out, her journal entries were written for the entertainment of her family, one that was “fun-loving, [and] down to earth,” and a father with “literary leanings.” Feo Monck’s full journal entries are found in Morton’s Monck Letters and Journals, 1863–1868: Canada from Government House at Confederation. Her apparent blitheness here about the delegates, and her disregard for Mercy’s situation, have to be seen in the light of attempting to entertain her family. One could also argue that she is showing the disdain some of the British had for the uncouth Canadian colonials.
Thursday, October 20 Quebec City*
Mr. Tessier is the “orateur” of the Upper House. I opened the ball with him opposite to Madame [Tessier] and Dick [Feo’s husband, brother of, and aide, to Lord Monck]. At French parties there are no fast dances, only quadrilles and lancers; it seems so odd. The R.C. Bishop won’t allow ‘round’ dances.… So many old people I don’t think I saw and the older they were the more they danced.… Amongst others I danced with Dr. Tupper, Premier of Nova Scotia, and with Honorable Mr. Coles, leader of the Opposition in Prince Edward’s Island. I never suffered so in my life from subdued laughing as at this party. The swarms of old people dancing, with white heads! Colonel Gray is gentlemanly. I like Dr. Tupper. Old Coles is, I believe a retired butcher [he was a distiller], and oh! so vulgar I could not describe him. He is grey haired and red faced, and looks as if his legs were fastened on after the rest of his body, to support his fat.… He does steps, and gives you his hand with a bow of his head and a shake of the body. I shall not cry when these delegates are gone; it is a bore dancing with them. He said to me, “I’m a sort of fellow who talks away and forgets to dance.” Then he told me “has’ow my daughter is ill. What with the ship and going to see an Indian encampment, she has diphtheria.” He said “as’ow” so often and “harrd” for hard … I bore him pretty well, till I spied Capt. Pem [Captain Pemberton] staring at me with a broad grin on his face, and then I broke down and laughed aloud. He never seemed to think I was laughing at him … I had a broad smile all night long on my face by the way of being so happy, but really to hide my sufferings of restrained laughter. John A Macdonald is always drunk now,** I am sorry to say, and when someone went to his room the other night, they found him in his night shirt, with a railway rug thrown over him, practising Hamlet before a looking-glass. At the drawing-roo
m he said to Mrs. Godley he should like to blow up Sir Robert Macdonnell [sic] with gunpowder; very unfortunate for this week and last; they wanted all Canadians to appear their best before the delegates.
Of the Bachelors’ Ball, Feo has much less of interest to say:
Saturday, October 22. The G-G opened the Ball with Madame Duval. There were 40 bachelors, not 6 as I was told. The attractions of the two rooms were supposed to be equally divided. The one room had the G-G and party, and the other the 25th string band.
Whelan offers his own take on the Bachelors’ Ball in his Union of the British Provinces:
The Bachelors of Quebec entertained the delegates at a ball at the Parliament Buildings on the evening of the 21st of October. His Excellency the Governor-General and his ministry were present; and, indeed, all the other distinguished persons who attended the Government Ball in the same place on the 14th, participated in the hilarity happily and most successfully inaugurated by the Bachelors. The attendance was large, the display of beauty highly attractive, and the entertainment in the supper room of the best description; in short, everything combined to make the Bachelors’ Ball one of the most agreeable incidents remotely connected with the convention.
Whelan’s reports to his newspaper, the Examiner, are livelier than his later detailing of the events in his Union of the British Provinces. It was the Bachelors’ Ball that provoked his comments on the ministers as “cunning fellows” dancing their way into the affections of the women, knowing that then, the “men will certainly become an easy conquest.” These comments by Whelan certainly provide more detail and context to the otherwise “official” reports. They function as the “call,” with Mercy’s and Feo’s diaries being the “response,” showcasing their female understandings as counterpoints to official history.
It would be hard, if not impossible, to learn anything of the “other” side of the political events at Quebec and in Canada if we had to rely solely on accounts such as Edward Whelan’s. It is Mercy’s and Feo’s voices, their points of view in telling what interests them and what they experienced, that allow for a fuller understanding of our history.
And we want Mercy back, we want her to get better, and to hear who and what is capturing her attention. Fortunately for us, and for her, Mercy and the conference-goers, finally leave the rain of Quebec City, and the first stop is the grand metropolis of Montreal.
* * *
* For clarity and ease of reading, I’ve used italics to identify the parts that were cut out of the edited version of Feo Monck’s journal published in 1891, My Canadian Leaves.
** Christopher Moore notes in Three Weeks in Quebec City that this story of Macdonald may just be unfounded gossip, as nowhere else is there mention of John A. being drunk during the time in Quebec. However, just a week later, on November 1, in Ottawa, Mercy writes that he was too drunk to make a speech he was to give for the luncheon at the parliament buildings.
Eight
Montreal Sightseeing and the “Eighth Wonder of the World”
Thursday, October 27 to Monday, October 31
On Thursday, October 27, Mercy and the others finally depart Quebec City, leaving the wet and muddy “bedraggled” place behind, and Mercy is feeling better. Light begins to shine through again, and there is a joyous tone to what she writes, as she is happy again to be going to the balls, to be out, to go and see the sights. Montreal, the largest city in Canada at the time, is their first stop.
From the Montreal Witness, August 29, 1860, on the fireworks for the grand opening of the Victoria Bridge:
There were many transatlantic and American visitors in the city, and their unanimous declaration was that the lighting up of Great St. James, from Victoria Square to the Place d’Armes, had never been surpassed. The sight in the harbour was magnificent; the war steamers, the Canadian Mail steamer, and the Glasgow steamer United Kingdom were illuminated; while from all the decks shot up flights of rockets, and brilliant lights flashed from every port-hole. Rockets and Bengal lights were fired from St. Helen’s; while from the Great Bridge the display was magnificent. Every Street added its contribution of candle light or glare of gas, so that for three hours Montreal, so to speak, heralded the arrival of the Prince of Wales [Albert Edward, oldest son of Queen Victoria] by an endless blaze of light — from horizon to zenith all was brilliant, out viewing oriental splendour and magnificence.… All the public squares were tastefully decorated with transparencies and coloured lanterns profusely interspersed among its foliage.… The dome of the City Hall was brilliantly lighted up with 3,000 jets of gas, and the windows of the large building were variegated with transparencies and Chinese lanterns.
1860 Grand Finale of Fire-Works in Honor of the Prince of Wales and the Successful Completion of the Victoria Bridge, Montreal, Canada East. Ink on newsprint — wood engraving.
The glory, the brilliance, the magnificence of Montreal! It was the largest city in Canada in 1864, with a population of ninety thousand, double the size of Toronto. Luxury hotels and ships from around the world filled her port. The biggest companies in Canada worked out of Montreal; in fact, the head offices of Canada’s largest and most successful businesses were located there for the next hundred years, until the separatist conflicts of the late 1960s.
Bird’s-eye view of Seminary gardens, Montreal, about 1870. This view was taken from the tower of Notre-Dame, and shows the city with the Victoria Bridge spanning the St. Lawrence in the background.
Montreal had grown by thirty-three thousand people in the ten years since 1851. Urban centres were swelling, and Montreal was growing the fastest. It was the perfect city in which to showcase the grand outlook of the 1860s: the desire to outdo nature, to highlight human potential and what people could do, flourished there. By 1860, everything was about progress, about the creation of a more perfect world. Innovation and change, the new possibilities of what the human mind and body could accomplish, were the mottos of the day. Mercy Coles and Canada were caught up in the excitement and thrall of that creation — from bridges to countries.
In Montreal, Mercy and the delegates were taken for a ride over the famous Victoria Bridge, known then as the “Eighth Wonder of the World.” The Victoria Bridge, believe it or not, was, and to some extent still is, a wonder of the world. Its original piers are standing yet, and, more than 150 years later, it continues to be used for train and vehicle travel. Here in Canada, in 1860, was the longest bridge in the world. Neither the United States, with its greater number of railway lines, nor Britain, from which the engineers and designers who constructed the bridge were hired, could claim such a thing.
Before the Victoria Bridge was constructed, Montreal depended on the river for everything: trade, supplies, and transportation to the United States and the rest of Canada. There were ferries in the summer, and ice roads in the winter, to cart goods and people, but when the river wasn’t usable (because it was in the process of freezing or thawing), Montreal, the growing metropolis, came to a standstill. A bridge across the St. Lawrence River seemed impossible. The river was nearly two miles across, it froze solid in winter, and it had huge ice dams when the spring came. Anything in the water would have to withstand the continued freezing and thawing, as well as the strong eleven-kilometre-per-hour current.*
Famous already for his train, the Rocket, the fastest and best locomotive in the world in the 1820s, Robert Stephenson invented an ingenious tubular bridge, one on which trains travelled through large tubes made of iron plates that were supported on piers. For the Victoria Bridge, he designed piers shaped like a ship’s hull, placed at an angle, to break up the spring ice. The angle of the piers would also help move the ice downstream, and so prevent its buildup and the creation of dangerous pressure on the susceptible piers.
James Hodges, also from England, was the engineer who planned the actual building of the bridge. He wrote his own account, which is beautiful in
its description of the landscape of Montreal, and detailed in the building and design of everything about it. There were cholera outbreaks, and workers suffered from snow blindness. Hodges had to deal with many disruptions, including a number involving workers striking for better pay. The work was difficult and dangerous, and in the growing economy, there were lots of other jobs to be found. Nevertheless, the miraculous Victoria Bridge was completed, and even completed early; the first train crossed it in December 1859. It deserved all the fanfare of its grand opening in August of 1860, with the Prince of Wales presiding. It’s no wonder the people of Montreal chose the bridge as one of the main sights for the Fathers of Confederation and their families to see, and for the prince to inaugurate.
The McCord Museum in Montreal has many photographs of the construction of the bridge, thanks to William Notman, the most famous photog-rapher in all of North America, who had his studio in Montreal. For Mercy and the delegates, having their photo taken by William Notman was a must. And Mercy did indeed get well enough to have her photograph taken, although she didn’t think much of it. The photograph can be viewed online at the McCord Museum.
All the photographs of the people who had their pictures taken along with Mercy on October 29 are listed in Notman’s ledger and are viewable online on the McCord Museum’s website. This list includes Leonard Tilley who was supposed to have accompanied Mercy, “but [she] was not punctual.” The photograph he sat for that day is included in chapter three.
Miss Confederation Page 7