Lucy Maud Montgomery

by Mary Henley Rubio

  Their last major side trip was down to the Suffolk Coast, to Dunwich, Lucy Ann Woolner’s home territory. In Dunwich, they stayed in the “Ship Inn” and explored the site of the old Woolner house, where her grandmother and Aunt Margaret Woolner MacKenzie had lived as little girls before their emigration to Prince Edward Island. (Both the Ship Inn and the house, called “Corporation Farm,” were still standing at the end of the twentieth century.) Maud found a man with a key to the house, and since it was then temporarily empty, she was able to enter it. Maud had grown up hearing stories of her grandmother’s childhood. She looked for relatives left behind but did not have much time or much success.

  It is interesting that, in spite of her cherished Scottish ancestry, Maud did not try to locate either her Macneill or Montgomery clansmen during this trip. (In November 1904, she had written to MacMillan, her Scottish correspondent, asking if he had ever travelled to Eglinton Castle, the seat of the Montgomeries, Earls of Eglinton, adding that “we claim descent from them,” proving she had some information about them.) All contact with these families had been lost. Her real knowledge of her Scottish forebears began with her great-great-great-grandfathers, Hugh Montgomery and John McNeil, who both came from the Argyllshire area, but she did not even seek out clansmen with the name when she was in the immediate area visiting the Burns home, which was very near Skelmorlie, Scotland, the likely seat of her Montgomery clan. Her immediate connection to her East Anglian grandmother was far more real than the romanticized Scottish ancestry of her paternal lines.

  Whatever her reasons for a more personal exploration of family ancestry in Dunwich, England, than in Scotland, Maud would always remain publicly and privately proud of her Scottish ancestors: the titled Lowlanders who spoke English rather than Gaelic. How did Ewan feel about his own Highland family’s lack of cultural refinement? We can only speculate. He was not a reader and did not know how these landscapes had been represented in literature. Nor was his family one of accomplished storytellers. His wife’s feelings for Scotland came from envisioning it as a literary landscape, full of tales of enchantment and mystery, peopled with characters (often lords and ladies) from the fiction, ballads, and narrative prose she had had access to in her family and community. His family’s stories would have been of near starvation.

  The social and cultural gaps between these two Scottish-Canadian Presbyterians from Prince Edward Island were as wide as the ocean. In Maud’s glowing description of their honeymoon in her journals, Ewan is almost invisible.

  Maud’s Cavendish cousins and friend Fannie. Back row: Frank Macneill, Fanny Wise, Lucy Macneill Middle row: Maud, Kate Macneill, Prescott Macneill Front row: Ernest Macneill, Anne “Tot” Macneill.

  Edwin Simpson, Maud’s cousin and first fiancé.

  The Leard family of Bedeque: Back row: Georgina, Herman, Helen, Calvin Middle row: Alpheus, Mr. and Mrs. Leard, Millie Front row: Frederica (“Fed”), Mae.

  Ettie Schurman, who was widely believed to be engaged to Herman while he courted Maud.

  Nora Lefurgey (Mrs. Ned Campbell).

  Maud around age 24.

  Maud around 1903 (perhaps hamming with Nora Lefurgey).

  A handsome Ewan Macdonald at the time Maud met him.

  The Webb family: Margaret and David Macneill (the brother and sister who lived in “Green Gables” and were the partial models for Matthew and Marilla); their adopted niece Myrtle Macneill Webb, Ernest Webb, and their baby daughter.

  Cover picture on the 1908 Page edition of Anne of Green Gables. Its original publication was clearly aimed at an adult audience.

  Dr. Andrew Macphail of PEI and McGill University.

  Lady Grey and Earl Grey in PEI, with party at the Macphail Homestead, including Dr. John McCrae (seated left).

  “Page Court,” the home of L. C. Page, at 67 Powell Street, Brookline, Massachusetts.

  Lewis Coues Page of Boston, Maud’s unscrupulous publisher, in 1908.

  Maud in 1903, photographed by Nora Lefurgey, after Ewan became minister in Cavendish.

  Maud in 1911, when her marriage to Ewan was imminent.

  PART TWO

  ——

  The Leaskdale Years

  1911–1926

  CHAPTER 7

  As her honeymoon in Scotland and England drew to a close, Maud’s mind was arranging furniture in the Leaskdale manse. She was almost thirty-seven, and she wanted to feel settled in her very own place. She had felt unwanted in a succession of homes—Aunt Emily Montgomery’s in Malpeque, her father’s in Prince Albert, and even her own home in Cavendish, after she had become old enough to understand that she could live there only until her grandparents died. Her insecurity had been intensified during her grandfather’s declining years, and again after his death when her Uncle John F. Macneill attempted to claim the house. It is no wonder that longing for a home is a major theme in Anne of Green Gables and other novels. Anne Shirley’s ongoing desire is to be “of a place,” to find a permanent home where she feels wanted and secure. Maud wanted more than anything to be permanently settled as mistress of her own home and the mother of a happy family.

  Throughout her honeymoon, Maud had been searching for decorations for her new home. She particularly wanted spotted china dogs like those she had admired as a child in Grandfather Montgomery’s Park Corner house. She found two sets of dogs and bought both. Her favourites were the two larger ones, antique Staffordshire china, with gold spots. She planned for them to reign over the hearth, in her mind a hallowed space in any home. She named them “Gog” and “Magog.”

  There was a touch of waggish irreverence in their naming. In the Bible, Gog and Magog are the two evil kings of the north who attack the kingdom of Israel. Led by Satan himself, they fight against God. There is no record of what Ewan thought of these imaginative names in a Presbyterian manse. The manse, as it turned out, had no hearth, so Gog and Magog stood guard by Maud’s bookcase, instead. Perhaps she saw the dogs as protecting her corner of the room against too much theology.

  A woman could prove she was refined, a cut above the “common herd,” if her home was attractively appointed. Most women in Maud’s era lived their lives predominantly in their homes, with little real power outside them. The decoration of their house—their one sphere of influence—was a major focus, satisfying their aesthetic needs. In a society not yet driven by consumerism, there was little money available for decorative frills in the home. Young women from cultured families used their leisure time to learn needlework and other artistic skills. Magazines were available to them in the new world of print culture: new ideas and fashions, patterns, and materials to order. For more than twenty years, Maud had been laying up her handmade items in her hope chest: crazy quilts, knitted afghans, fancy pillows, crocheted antimacassars and doilies, and fancy embroidered linens. (Much of this survives in the University of Guelph Archives, and Maud’s largest crazy quilt is in the Campbell house in Park Corner.)

  Maud was in an unusual situation: her hope chest was full, but she also had her own royalty money to spend on purchasing more substantial items. She intended to buy fine china and silver, nice furniture, and to live in style, after a decade spent in a deteriorating farmhouse. Her future home might not be as big and elegant as “Page Court,” but it would be as impressive as taste would allow in a Presbyterian manse in the Ontario countryside.

  Her first view of the manse, however, was somewhat disappointing. Built of pale-yellow Ontario brick, in a common L-style that she considered ugly, it was far from ideal. In addition to the absence of a fireplace and hearth, there was no indoor bathroom and toilet (though this was not unusual for the era). Another problem was that the manse was not in “move in” condition. She wanted to paint the worn floors and do some redecoration. She and Ewan had to board next door, where Ewan had lived for the past year, with two elderly spinsters. Although these two women might have “delighted Dickens,” as Maud noted, they were overly solicitous, unsophisticated, and extremely curious about the minister’s
new wife.

  Ewan preached on Sunday, October 1, 1911, the morning after they arrived from their honeymoon. A church reception was held the following Tuesday for the newlyweds; it was widely known in the congregation, of course, that their diffident minister had married the famous “L. M. Montgomery,” and this was a focus of immense local interest. The Uxbridge Journal reported that:

  Despite torrential rain the Leaskdale church was filled to capacity Tuesday night to welcome the Rev. Ewen [sic] Macdonald and his bride, the well known writer, Miss Montgomery of Prince Edward Island. Supper was served in the basement with such opportunity for social chat and pleasantry that it was after nine o’clock before people went upstairs.… Mr. Macdonald has already won a firm hold of the people by his manly character, sound judgement and loving zeal in his high calling. With his gifted and charming wife Leaskdale may call herself happy.1

  A few days later, even though the house was not quite ready and the new furniture had not arrived from Toronto, the Macdonalds moved in, sleeping on the floor on feather cushions—anything to be out of earshot of the curious old maids. On October 24, they “really” moved in. Maud had had all the wooden floors painted dark tree-green, rather than the traditional grey. Her favourite wallpaper pattern was always one with sprigs of green ferns. She described each room of the house lovingly in her diary and pasted in photographs of the furniture, the family heirlooms, and her own household “gods,” feeling that she had given her home class, in spite of its plainness.

  Upstairs were five rooms: in the master bedroom she installed pearl-grey furniture, set off by a crimson rug. A second bedroom was decorated in pink with white furniture, and the third in blue with fancy Circassian walnut. A fourth room was allocated for storage, and a fifth set aside for a maid. The large landing at the top of the stairs was set up as Maud’s sewing area.

  The first floor held the kitchen, the dining room, the library, and parlour. The dining room was awkward, containing an ugly stovepipe, and there was little space for her new sideboard. It was a poor location for entertaining, but handy to the kitchen at the back of the house. The parlour was brightened by creamy-yellow wallpaper and enriched with green brocade drapes, a moss-green rug, furniture in a light Hepplewhite design, and a small bookcase guarded by Gog and Magog.

  Her most treasured family heirloom was the “Woolner jug,” which she used to hold potpourri. This decorative jug, brought by Maud’s great-grandmother from England to Canada, had been filled with blackcurrant jam made from her English garden. Later, the jug’s function was to hold cream—and for Maud’s grandfather to entertain visitors with stories about its history. This prized object now provided a link to Maud’s distinguished ancestors, showing that she came from a “family with traditions.” She placed the jug on a small curved table to catch visitors’ attention, which would often lead to her telling its story.2

  Because this was a minister’s house, it contained a library. Ewan’s library was unusual in that it was shared with a working novelist. For the first time in her life, Maud had bookcases for all her books as well as a new desk, full of cubbyholes, where she could store her writing utensils. Above this desk she hung copies of the paintings of “Anne,” “Kilmeny,” and “The Story Girl” that had decorated the covers of her books. On the other walls hung enlarged and tinted photos of “Lovers’ Lane” and other Cavendish scenes. It was in this room that she would get back to work—but not until the new year.

  A minister and his wife were expected to visit in all the homes of parishioners, and to receive in their own. On October 11, 1911, Maud advertised in the “Personals” column of the Uxbridge Journal:

  Mrs. E. Macdonald will be at home at the Manse, Leaskdale, on the afternoon and evening of Thursday, Nov. 2 and Friday, Nov. 3, and thereafter in the afternoon and evening of Tuesday each week.

  Maud liked the look of Leaskdale. She described it to George MacMillan as “a very pretty country place—would be almost as pretty as Cavendish if it had the sea …” (65). Leaskdale was a tiny village—a grouping of some ten to twelve houses, with a church, blacksmith, general store, and a mechanic’s garage. The church was small, but it was an attractive red-brick structure. It was located partway up a hill, across the road from the manse. The surrounding fertile farmland held beautiful rolling hills and forests reminiscent of Prince Edward Island. Beyond Leaskdale proper there were small rivers and lakes, in addition to other locations with red soil (also like that in Prince Edward Island). Seven miles to the south lay Uxbridge, with a rail connection to Toronto.

  Maud was not as pleased when describing her husband’s parishioners. She asked her diary: “Is this the kind of people I must live among?” (September 24, 1911). She had fondly cherished the eccentricities of all her Cavendish kinfolk back home, but was less tolerant of the same kind of people in Leaskdale. After receiving in her home for the first time, she wrote: “To all I try to be courteous, tactful and considerate, and most of them I like superficially. But the gates of my soul are barred against them. They do not have the key” (October 24, 1911). This was the initial reaction of a very private woman, in whom reserve was an instinctive and protective mechanism against judgmental clansmen. She had enjoyed her fame as a writer in a community where she was already known, but now it made her the object of curious and prying eyes among strangers. What Ewan’s parishioners actually met in Maud, however, was a friendly, witty, gracious, and refined woman with a poised social presence. They took her into their hearts, and in time she grew very fond of most of them.

  Maud knew how important it was for a minister’s wife to work with her husband. As Mrs. Lynde in Anne of Green Gables remarks, “sound doctrine in the man and good house-keeping in the woman make an ideal combination for a minister’s family.” But as an unpaid helper, the minister’s wife was also expected to provide leadership for women’s activities in the church. Men may have done the preaching and decision-making, but women were the real workers, organizing fundraising events; preparing decorations and refreshments for social events, meetings, and funerals; gathering or making all the items to be sent to foreign missions; and helping those in the community who were sick or the victims of bad luck.

  Leaskdale women were delighted to discover that the famous “L. M. Montgomery” was accessible, prepared to help in all these activities. She could give fascinating talks on books, could recite dramatic poems and passages for fundraising church programs, and was a superb cook and housekeeper. She quickly gained their respect. Only a month after Maud’s arrival as a new bride in Leaskdale, the Macdonalds began working with the Young People’s Guild in the church. On November 16, 1911, the social part of the program included a duet, a dialogue, a reading by “Mrs. Macdonald,” and ended with a floral contest and refreshments. Maud’s intent was to give young people practice in conducting these meetings and performing in them. She made fun out of learning social graces and other skills in a public forum.3

  When Maud moved to Leaskdale, she energized the entire community. She had more than professional elocutionary skills; she was a natural entertainer who loved telling stories and jokes. She was also skilled at drawing others out. Her smile was warm and encompassing. Her chit-chat brightened every social occasion, at church or in homes. Years later, one of the parishioners would remember that “her conversation was frequently pointed up with, ‘That reminds me’ and off she would go with some ‘yarn’ for there was always a funny side to things. Because she was witty and gay, young and old enjoyed her company. Rarely one missed hearing some tale about her beloved Island or its people.”4

  She was soon elected to official positions, given her organizational skills and other abilities. She noted in her diary that the women’s mission society had three different branches: the Foreign Missions (for China, India, etc.), the Home Missions (for the Canadian west and north, among native peoples), and the Missions Band (organized to involve young children in mission-mindedness). Maud had some private reservations about the proselytizing aspects of missio
ns, but approved strongly of their medical and educational functions. She was expected to take a leadership role in all aspects of the meetings (which consisted of hymn-singing, standard prayers, business reports, the reading of a chapter from a missionary’s often dull memoirs, another hymn, collection, and refreshments). None of the members guessed that she complained in her private diary about these time-consuming meetings. But she did enjoy “making things go” and she quickly grew into her new role.

  There was soon an excuse to slow down her busy pace: in early November, she discovered that she was pregnant. One of her main reasons for marrying had been to have children. Nearly thirty-seven, she was thrilled that a baby was coming.

  At the end of November, there was more happiness. Daffy, her cat, had been shipped from Prince Edward Island. She had not intended to bring him, but she had found that she missed him too much. To her, a house without a cat was incomplete. Dehydrated and frightened after three days riding in a crate, Daffy was delighted to see his mistress again. He found more freedom in this home than he had in her grandmother’s house: he lay on Maud’s writing table as she wrote, on the dining table as she ate, on her lap or curled up beside her when she read, on her bed as she slept, and he even claimed his very own chair in the parlour.

  Despite her pleasure in her new home, Maud enjoyed escaping from Leaskdale for meetings in Toronto. On December 6, 1911, she accepted an invitation to a Canadian Women’s Press Club in Toronto, where she and Marian Keith (another novelist) were honoured at a reception. On December 7, Maud went to another reception at the National Club and stayed at Marjory MacMurchy’s home for the night.