A Country of Our Own

by Karleen Bradford

  We were nearly home when I suddenly saw, to my horror, Daisy’s friend the cow, with two of her friends, heading into our front garden. I had forgotten to close the gate!

  I could only imagine the trouble I would be in if those lumbering beasts trampled the flowers and bushes of Missus Bradley’s front garden that have taken so long to establish.

  I started to run, pushing the perambulator — a little perilously, I must admit — ahead of me. Baby Jonathan seemed to like the bumpy speed, though. He gurgled and crowed quite happily. Just as I got up to the house and the reality of how I was going to herd those cows out of the garden was beginning to sink in, and my heart was about to sink accordingly, who should erupt from the backyard but Brutus.

  He fairly tore at those animals. I had no idea he could bark so loudly, nor growl so fiercely. Even knowing him as I do, I was taken aback. He charged the cows, and the cows stopped dead in their tracks, then beat a hasty retreat. Hasty for cows, that is, which isn’t really all that hasty.

  Brutus has certainly saved the garden and, more importantly, me. I can hardly bring myself to be grateful, but grateful I must be.

  I will give him a biscuit tonight when nobody is watching.

  I still can’t abide the beast, but perhaps I will have to try to have a more charitable opinion of him.

  Thursday, June 27th, 1867

  A new nursemaid came today. Her name is Elsie. Right different from Fanny she is. I will not speak ill of the dead, but I think Elsie will be a deal easier to get along with. Only now I have to give Jonathan up again.

  Fanny. Every time I think of her, I wonder if it was she who took that bracelet. It must have been. Who else could have done it? If she did, we will never know the truth of it and I will be suspected of being a thief for as long as I live.

  But there, I’m suspecting her with no proof, and that’s just as mean as it is for anyone to suspect me with no proof.

  Friday, June 28th, 1867

  I am to have the 1st of July off. Bessie has arranged to meet with me to go and see the ceremonies on Parliament Hill. Briney is to get the day off too, and Jean-Louis came around to say he will meet up with us as well. It would be such a merry day if I were not still so sick about the bracelet. I have searched every inch of this house over and over, hoping to find it, but no luck.

  Saturday, June 29th, 1867

  Mister Bradley had a grand surprise for Missus Bradley today. He has bought a lot on Daly Street in Sandy Hill, not far from Mister Besserer’s house at number 149. They will start construction on a new home next week, and Mister Bradley says they will be able to move in before next winter. He says he will not have his wife go through another winter in this drafty, smelly little house. A fine big stone house, it will be.

  I wonder if they will want me to move there with them. They might not, because of this accursed business of the bracelet.

  What will I do then?

  Sunday, June 30th, 1867

  Tomorrow is the big day.

  It is very late now, but I just had to write this down. At midnight, the bells of all the churches in Ottawa were let loose and began to peal. We all of us went outside to stand in the street and listen. It was surely magnificent, but all it did was make me weep.

  July 1867

  Monday, July 1st, 1867

  Ottawa, The Dominion of Canada

  Where to start? It is very late and everyone in the house is finally asleep. I did not sleep last night, and I am certain I will not sleep tonight either.

  It was a hot, sunny day. Just perfect for all the festivities. Mister Bradley was off early to the Parliament Buildings, as he said that Lord Monck, the governor general, was to swear in the new Cabinet. He told us that the governor general has also announced that Mister Macdonald has been made a Knight Commander of the Bath by order of Queen Victoria. He will now be Sir John A. Macdonald. I am writing those words big and bold too.

  As soon as I had helped Cook tidy up the kitchen after our breakfast, I was off. Bessie was waiting for me by the Rideau Bridge and we found Jean-Louis up on Parliament Hill. I was happy to see Briney was there with him.

  I have never seen such a sight as the multitude of people and carriages that crowded Parliament Hill. There was not one clear space. We managed to squirm our way through so that we could get close to the Parliament Buildings to watch the parade and the military review, and very impressive it was. The band music was so lively it was impossible not to tap your feet in time to it. For a while I was even able to forget my worries and allow myself to enjoy the festivities a little bit.

  There was an incident that Mister Bradley declared was a “deplorable accident,” but that Briney and I thought was the highlight of the morning. The Civil Service Rifle Company lined up on both sides of Sparks Street to fire a hundred-and-one-gun salute. We all waited breathlessly for it, but they forgot to remove their ramrods from their rifles. Along with the great noise of the shots, all the ramrods sailed away up in the air over our heads! People dodged and screamed, but we just stood with our mouths open and laughed. It was a good addition to the celebrations, I thought.

  There was a picnic this afternoon for the parishioners and their children from St. Alban’s, in New Edinburgh. Missus Bradley was keen to go and, as Elsie had the day off, I went as well to care for baby Jonathan. We took the pony trap, but there was no talk of Missus Bradley driving today and Mister Bradley took the reins. I think Missus Bradley handles the horse better.

  As usual, Cook had packed a great hamper full of food and we settled down beneath a tree to watch all the festivities. Everyone but me was in a grand mood. There were speeches, and races, and children were allowed to run around like little wild things.

  Some of the adults got quite carried away and the Reverend Dr. Thomas Bedford-Jones forgot his dignity completely and ended up in a piggyback race with a local judge. If I hadn’t been so despondent, I’m sure I would have found it funny.

  We stayed there until suppertime, then, seeing that Missus Bradley was tiring, Mister Bradley drove us home. The celebrations were not over, however, as there was to be a grand display of fireworks after sunset.

  Briney turned up after supper to beg permission from Mister Bradley for me to go see the fireworks with him. Mister Bradley was a little hesitant, but it was such a special day, he finally relented and agreed that I could go. I have never seen anything like that display. The colours were fair dazzling. I think their images are still etched into my brain, and the sounds of them taking off and exploding high above us are still echoing in my ears.

  As we were walking home, I was so bedazzled that I didn’t even realize that Briney had taken hold of my hand! It wasn’t until we reached the doorstep of the Bradleys’ house that I came to my senses and snatched it away.

  And then didn’t the daft boy say, “I’m glad you didn’t leave. I’m right fond of you, Rosie Dunn.”

  Well, thanks be it was dark enough that he couldn’t see the blush that must have turned my face scarlet.

  “Get on with you, you foolish boy,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster. I’m afraid it wasn’t much, though.

  Briney just laughed and tipped his cap to me and went off down the street whistling like a lunatic.

  There are still bonfires in the streets and I can hear sounds of celebrations all over the town.

  So it is done. In spite of all the talk and confusion and opposition, we are now a country of our own.

  Happy Birthday, Canada.

  Wednesday, July 3rd, 1867

  Now that all the fuss and celebration of Confederation is over, Mister and Missus Bradley are making plans for the new house in earnest.

  There has been no mention of me going with them. I cannot help but think that the matter of that lost bracelet is still hovering over me. Perhaps I should have left after all.

  But no, no matter what happens now, I couldn’t have.

  Thursday, July 4th, 1867

  Missus Bradley called me into the parlour to
day. Mister Bradley was there with her and they both looked so serious, I suddenly felt sick.

  Here it is, then, I thought. They’re going to tell me they don’t want me in the new house with them. Perhaps they’ve already hired a girl to replace me. I braced myself for the worst, but that’s not what happened.

  Missus Bradley spoke first. “It’s about that wretched missing bracelet of mine,” she said. “Cook tells me you are still upset about it. That you feel as if you are under suspicion.”

  I couldn’t speak. I could only manage a small kind of a nod.

  “Oh, Rosie, I’m so sorry!” she said. “I was distressed when I discovered it missing, but Mister Bradley and I want you to know that we don’t for a moment think that you took it. We know you would never steal from us.”

  “You mean you want me to stay?” I blurted out. “You do want me to come with you to the new house?” I must confess I burst into tears of relief.

  “Of course we do!” Missus Bradley said. She put her arm around me. “Why would you ever think that we wouldn’t?”

  Mister Bradley patted me on the shoulder.

  “You’re part of the family now, Rosie,” he said, and I have never heard him speak more kindly. “We couldn’t imagine getting along without you.”

  Part of the family.

  As I sit here writing this, all snug in my bed with Sophie purring beside me, muddy old Ottawa seems like not such a bad place after all. In fact, it feels as if this is exactly where I was meant to be.

  It seems that I, too, have moved on.

  I cannot wait to see Briney and tell him.

  Epilogue

  Rosie and Briney were married when Rosie turned eighteen. By then Briney had a good, permanent job with the E.B. Eddy sawmill, and when that mill was converted into the E.B. Eddy Manufacturing Company to produce matches and other items made of wood, several years later, Briney was promoted to a foreman’s position. Because of this, and by working with Missus Bradley from time to time for some extra money, Rosie was able to ensure that all six of their children finished secondary education.

  Two of their boys followed their father into the mill and did as well as he had. Two other boys left Ottawa to seek their fortunes elsewhere. One signed on to a steamer and travelled regularly to England and Europe. He never failed to bring back souvenirs from his travels. Rosie particularly delighted in anything Irish that he could find for her.

  The other son went on Rosie’s detested train cars and became an engineer. Despite her son’s fascination with the railway, Rosie never did come to like travel by rail.

  One of her daughters took secretarial training and was employed on Parliament Hill as a secretary to a member of parliament. The other daughter became a teacher.

  Rosie was immensely proud of the fact that none of their children had to go into service.

  Unfortunately, Briney’s brother Thomas was never able to return to work at the mill, though he was able to find odd jobs in the town. After his parents died, he came to live with Rosie and Briney and became a beloved uncle to their children.

  Bessie and Rosie remained friends for all of their lives, although Bessie continued to irritate Rosie once in a while with her “high-falutin’” ways. She married a man who worked in the mill as well. She and her husband had five children, but Bessie was widowed when her husband was killed in a mill accident. Rosie and Briney helped her out considerably during the hard times that followed that accident.

  Shy Jean-Louis, to everyone’s surprise, became a well-respected politician. He married a young woman who was very active in the cause of French rights. He and Briney remained friends as well, and his wife became a friend of Rosie’s, although they sometimes had their differences — as did all the French and Irish in Ottawa at that time. Both Rosie and Marie could get somewhat vehement in their discussions, which worried both husbands, but that didn’t damage their friendship. In fact, Rosie’s eldest son married Jean-Louis and Marie’s eldest daughter. That made for lively conversations around the dinner table.

  One of the highlights of Rosie’s life was when their children pooled their resources and sent Rosie and Briney on a trip to Ireland. Although their parents had died by then, Rosie and Briney were able to visit the villages from which their parents had come when they were young, and meet many long-lost relatives. Rosie loved Ireland, but Ottawa was home to her by then and she was glad to return to Canada when their visit was done.

  Briney and Rosie lived to a good old age. Briney teased Rosie to the end, always threatening to buy a cow and name it Rosie, but he never did. Rosie said he wouldn’t dare, and she was probably right.

  And that bracelet?

  Nothing more was said about it, but when James was cleaning out the pony trap later in the summer of 1867, he found it wedged down beside the front seat. The Bradleys determined that it must have fallen off when they had their accident. It gave Rosie great pleasure to hear James have to admit that he had judged her unfairly, and she was able to put her own suspicions of poor Fanny to rest.

  Historical Note

  The road to Confederation and to the creation of the Dominion of Canada was a long one. British North America at that time was composed of the Province of British Columbia far in the west; the Province of Canada; and the Provinces of Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Newfoundland in the east. Between them was Rupert’s Land.

  The Province of Canada had been formed in 1841 by uniting Canada West (formerly Upper Canada) and Canada East (formerly Lower Canada). Canada West was mainly English-speaking and Protestant, and Canada East was mainly French-speaking and Roman Catholic, with a substantial English Protestant minority. By the 1860s, however, the two parts of the Province of Canada had come to a political deadlock. One of the many problems they could not agree on was a mutually beneficial economic policy.

  The deadlock between Canada West and Canada East gave rise to the idea of forming a larger British North American union. Britain’s colonies on the Atlantic were already talking about creating their own regional union.

  The co-premier of the Province of Canada was John A. Macdonald. He had led his Liberal-Conservative Party into a Great Coalition with the Parti bleu of George-Étienne Cartier and George Brown’s Clear Grits. Together, with a view to forming this larger British North American Union, the three leaders asked if the Province of Canada could be included in the negotiations.

  The Atlantic provinces had already set the date for a conference discussing their union, in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island — September 1, 1864. Macdonald, Cartier and Brown were invited, and presented their proposal for a united government of all the provinces, with the preservation of ties with Great Britain. By September 7, 1864, the delegates from Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island gave a positive answer to the Canadian delegation. Delegates from the three Maritime provinces and Newfoundland were then invited to attend another conference held in Québec City in October of 1864.

  There were many differences to be hammered out at this conference, but most were finally resolved, and the delegates came up with seventy-two resolutions. Following this last conference, the Province of Canada’s legislature passed a bill approving the union. New Brunswick and Nova Scotia harboured reservations about the union, however, and did not opt in until 1866. Prince Edward Island and Newfoundland decided not to join.

  In November 1866, sixteen delegates from the Province of Canada, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia travelled to London, England. They were granted an audience with Queen Victoria, and subsequently passed their seventy-two resolutions, which then became known as the London Resolution. Amendments that the Nova Scotians had wished included did not pass, however, and this led to more misgivings on their part.

  In January 1867, the delegates drafted the British North America Act. It was decided that the new country should be called Canada, but there was considerable debate about how it should be designated. Kingdom and Confederation, among other options, were ultimately rejected, an
d the term Dominion was finally decided upon. Canada West would enter Confederation as Ontario, and Canada East would enter as Québec. After the presentation of the Act to Queen Victoria on February 11, 1867, the bill was introduced in the House of Lords the next day. It was approved first by them, then by the British House of Commons. It received the Queen’s assent on March 29, 1867. July 1, 1867, was decided upon as the date for the union.

  Although there was, and continued to be, disagreement and dissatisfaction among some parties in Canada about the union, it seemed that there was no such concern in Great Britain. Indeed, it was suggested, perhaps tongue in cheek, that Great Britain was in favour of it because if the colonies united into one country and the United States ever invaded again, they could defend themselves without Great Britain having to get involved.

  Rupert’s Land — the huge tract of land situated between British Columbia and the eastern provinces of Canada — was owned by the Hudson’s Bay Company. The HBC transferred Rupert’s Land to the Government of Canada in June 1870; along with the North-Western Territory, it became the North-West Territories. A small part of this territory became the Province of Manitoba when it joined Confederation on July 15, 1870. The North-West Territories remained virtually a crown colony of Canada.

  British Columbia joined Confederation on July 20, 1871.

  Prince Edward Island joined on July 1, 1873.

  A part of the North-West Territories was separated off on June 13, 1898, to become the Yukon Territory. It is currently known as Yukon.

  Saskatchewan and Alberta, also formerly part of the North-West Territories, joined on September 1, 1905.

  In 1912, the Parliament of Canada made the official name of these territories the Northwest Territories, dropping all hyphenated forms of the name.