Miss Confederation

by Anne McDonald

  The end of the tour has come for the delegates, the party is over, and they are returning home, separately or in small groups, to their former lives. The politicians will now have to work for (or against) Confederation, both with their legislatures and the people of their provinces. Leonard Tilley will lose dramatically at the polls in 1865, and this will cause a whole rethinking of the Confederation timeline. Macdonald — all of them — had hoped for a resolution, a concrete step toward Confederation in 1865, but that wasn’t to be. Macdonald and the others blamed Tilley for calling an election in New Brunswick on the issue, instead of just fighting it out in the legislature. But Tilley had lost the support of his followers in the legislature, and going to the electorate was the only choice he figured he had. He lost, and his government fell. Historian Christopher Moore examined Tilley’s options and determined, like Tilley, that there was nothing else he could do. Maybe Macdonald, with hindsight, would agree with Tilley. At any rate, 1865 was an impossibility. The Fathers (but not any of the Prince Edward Island delegates) eventually went to London in the late fall of 1866 to present the British North America Act to the British Parliament for approval. The delegates to the London Conference stayed through the winter, and the motion was finally passed on March 12, 1867, with Queen Victoria giving her royal assent on March 29. She also declared the country’s official “birth date” would be July 1, 1867.

  The British colonial secretary responsible for helping the Canadian delegation prepare and present its Confederation proposals to the British House of Commons was Henry Howard Molyneux Herbert, 4th Earl of Carnarvon. Lord Carnarvon hosted Macdonald at his country estate, Highclere Castle, for a weekend in December 1866. Highclere Castle is the setting for the popular television show Downton Abbey, with Lord Grantham as a fictional earl. High times were to be had back in Lord Carnarvon’s time, too; it was after that weekend that Macdonald accidentally set his bedclothes and bed on fire at his hotel in London. (He was fine, though he did have some third-degree burns.)

  The Coles family travelled through the United States to Warren, and to Bloomfield, Ohio, to visit Mercy’s mother’s relatives. The second week, on their way back home, they toured Boston and New York City, seeing Barnum’s Circus and a show on Broadway. Nevertheless, Mercy was sad to part with the group. We also see why she didn’t write more about Leonard Tilley during the last weeks of the conference: another woman had taken, even demanded, his attention.

  This first week is full of the family visit at Clover Hill Farm in Bloomfield. Mercy’s mother’s older brother, William Haine, emigrated from England to Bloomfield, Ohio, in 1835, after staying in Prince Edward Island for a time. The Haines were from Somerset, England, as were George Coles’s parents. Many of the families mentioned by Mercy on this visit also emigrated from Somerset (Dunkerton, Haine, Hawkins, and Symes), and thus a lot of them were related to each other. Many married their first cousins, too. Mercy’s uncle, William Haine, married his first cousin, Mary Haine, so the interconnections were extensive, to say the least. A family history book by an American relative, A Journey from Somerset, England to Ohio: For the Hawkins and Haine Family, 1700–2000,* reports that Mercy’s mother and father visited Clover Hill Farm in 1848. George Coles travelled to Massachusetts and Ohio in the Fall of 1848, and it was his visits there that led to the ideas for his Free Education Act, passed in PEI in 1852. Unfortunately for Mercy’s story, there is nothing in Bell’s book about their visit in 1864.

  There are a whole lot of cousins, aunts, and uncles mentioned in Mercy’s diary, along with simple notes on family visits, gossip, and singalongs — a typical family reunion. What’s interesting is the very different lives the American relatives are leading from the Canadian Coleses, although there is very little reference by either Mercy, or the family, to those different circumstances. The Civil War was in full swing. Brothers, husbands and beaus were off fighting, being captured, killed — all the usual things that happen in war. Mercy’s cousin, Frances, kept a diary until her marriage in 1863. She wrote of her concern over her two brothers, William and George, who had enlisted in 1862, and of George’s capture. By the fall of 1864, Mercy says only that they were away, and were clerks in the war office. After the Sunday sermon on August 3, 1862, Frances Haine wrote:

  “If it be possible, live peaceable with all men.…” Yet there are times when it is right to take up arms. It is not right for us to let the South tyrannize over us and make slaves of us. We should feel it a privilege to defend our government which is the BEST in the world. If anything is worth fighting for, surely this is. He [the pastor] then tried to arouse the young men to a sense of duty. The call is for 600,000. It does seem hard to see our young men going to die and suffer for our country. I want our country to be saved but still I dislike for any of my friends to go — which shows how selfish I am. But I do hope this is the last call.

  The sermon must have moved her brothers, William and George, as they left, along with sixteen other men from Bloomfield, for the camp in Warren on August 11. William had just decided to marry, and the ceremony was held that same evening, August 11, in Warren, before he left for the war. Frances and a group of friends joined with her brothers in Warren to celebrate the wedding. She wrote, “It did not seem like much of a wedding to me. It was so sad to think that William was going to War the next mor-ning. There was a great war meeting that evening and the drums were beating and the cannons were firing at the time they were married. The horrors of war took away all the pleasures of the occasion.…”

  On October 21, they hear one of the local boys has been killed, William has been wounded, and another local boy who’d been wounded had died. A week later, on October 26, they have a letter from George that says he’s been sick with lung fever. As well, “He gives a hard account of the rebels that are stealing, and destroying everything they can.”

  On December 31, 1862, Frances wrote, “[The year] brought many sorrows to our community.… I am thankful both my brothers have been spared when so many have been cut down.”

  Mercy’s relatives had been touched significantly by the ongoing war, and yet, there was nothing in Mercy’s diary to suggest either she, or her relatives, were concerned. Mercy seems unaware of the implications the war held for people’s lives. Was she ignorant? Naive and innocent? Certainly, she was smarter than that. She sang the “Bonnie Blue Flag”** at her Uncle William’s — presumably a Union version — and its lyrics leave no doubt about the aim and scope of the war.

  Here are two typical Union stanzas:

  We trusted you as brothers,

  Until you drew the sword,

  With impious hands at Sumter

  You cut the silver cord.

  So now you hear the bugles,

  We come the sons of Mars,

  To rally round the brave old flag

  That bears the stripes and stars.

  Chorus: Hurrah, Hurrah,

  For equal rights hurrah,

  Hurrah for the good old flag

  That bears the stripes and stars.

  We do not want your cotton,

  We do not want your slaves,

  But rather than divide the land,

  We’ll fill your Southern graves.

  With Lincoln for our chieftain,

  We wear our country’s stars,

  And rally round the brave old flag

  That bears the stripes and stars.

  And two stanzas of the Confederate version:

  We are a band of brothers and native to the soil

  Fighting for our Liberty, with treasure, blood and toil

  And when our rights were threatened, the cry rose near

  and far

  Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star!

  Chorus: Hurrah! Hurrah!

  For Southern rights, hurrah!

  Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star.

 
As long as the Union was faithful to her trust

  Like friends and like brethren, kind were we, and just

  But now, when Northern treachery attempts our rights

  to mar

  We hoist on high the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star.

  Mercy wrote that her cousin, Frances’s brother, George Haine, a clerk in the war department, was supposed to come see them, but didn’t. It’s not clear where he was at that time in November 1864, but this was the time when the 105th Ohio Voluntary, in which he’d enlisted, was moving from Chattanooga, TN, to support General Sherman in the destruction of Atlanta and the big “March to the Sea.” She wrote that another cousin, Bertie Symes, had been “two months at Chattanooga.” Life overall for her relatives was definitely not the simple, happy time they showed Mercy and her parents, and one surmises the Coles family would be aware of that difference.

  This is an excerpt of a letter from a soldier, Charles Caley, of the 105th, from November 12 to 16, to his wife, Juliaette Carpenter Caley:

  Near Savannah Dec 18th 64

  My Dear Wife

  As I came inn [sic] from picket yesterday I found Some leters [sic] waiting inn Camp for me three from you and one from Brother John also the Sage you sent and also the paper you Sent. you wished me to give you an account of our march and campaign So I wil [sic] begin to day Nov. 12th we Commenced our long and tiresom [sic] march we broke camp at Kingston about 8 o.clock every thing being cleaned out when about two milds [sic] out we could See the black Smoak [sic] looming up like a cloud and als [sic] the red flame which reached to the tops of the highest trees it was a grand Sight for us Soldiers we marched all day hard and camped that night on the Altona mountains it was a very cold raw windy night I was on camp guard and it was all I could do to keep from freezing

  Nov 13th we got up early and got our breakfast and was ready to march at day light we went through the pass and marched out from altona about three milds haldet [sic] and began taring [sic] up the rail road Taring up our own line of Communication and as you may Say Cutting off our own Supplyes [sic] of life in the enamys [sic] Country and entirely cut off from every Communication but yet we went on piled up the ties and piled the rails on the top and burnt them.… [W]e burn all litel [sic] towns as [we] passed through.

  Nov 14th we got up and ready to march at day light marched through Marietta that pretty litel town was all inn flames and the crashing of falling buildings flame and Smoke made it a horible [sic] Sight.…

  Nov. 15th got into Atlanta about noon found a part of the town burnt and the fire was runing [sic] like a huricane [sic].… Atlanta was burnt to ashes before day light of the 16th.

  These descriptions by Caley contrast so sharply with Mercy’s talk of singing the “Bonnie Blue Flag” as if it were a lark — something fun to sing and with which to regale each other — that it’s difficult to put the two images together. The blitheness of Mercy’s and her relative’s portrayals of life versus the reality of the war is hard to understand. Mercy’s uncle would, at the very least, have known how things were, as the newspapers were printing the war activity within a few days of events. Frances’s earlier diary entries make it clear she knew, to some extent, how bad things were for the soldiers. Nevertheless, we get a glimpse here into the massive gap between life as it was being experienced and how it was being portrayed, at least to visitors, as well as into the chasm between the lives of the soldiers and those at home.

  Mercy hedges, in her writing, about what she wants to discuss, and doesn’t tell us directly what we want to know. She gives details of events — whether of the conference, the tour, or the family visit — which, at times, given what we know now, make her appear blithe, naive, or even ignorant. We know this isn’t the case, from her astute observations and adroit detailing of people and their behaviour. She is painting a picture of life, and of herself, as carefree, light, and airy. She is creating the identity she wishes to have, writing her own self-image.

  Feo Monck’s diaries are similar in ways. She, too, was creating a portrait of herself in a new place, mocking her own (and others’) weaknesses, being self-effacing when she clearly was not insignificant or timid at all. The difference between the two journals and writers lies in the direct way in which Feo details the effect people and events have on her, and the others in her circle. But Feo’s diaries were written for an audience, and were meant to entertain and inform people at home about life in Canada. Mercy’s style of writing is for a personal diary, one to remind the writer herself of places and the time. But one wishes Mercy would give up her breezy portrayal of herself and the world, and tell us, as Feo does, more about the world of which she is part.

  As noted earlier, Margaret Gray, daughter of Colonel Gray of PEI, also kept diaries. Evelyn MacLeod, in One Woman’s Charlottetown: Diaries of Margaret Gray Lord, 1863, 1876, 1890, annotates three of Gray’s diaries. MacLeod notes: “The entries in these diaries [1863, 1876, 1890] are simple and spare, and unfortunately they do not reveal much of their writer’s personality. Only rarely does Margaret write about her concerns, opinions, or ambitions.…”1 Even a much-anticipated trip to England, when she was eighteen years old, has Margaret writing in her “simple and spare” fashion. Her style of reportage, when just listing the essential details of an event, is similar to Mercy Coles’s at times. Overall, however, in the 1863 Gray diary, there appears to be no attempt to create a self-image, or any attempt to devise a picture of life, breezy or otherwise. By comparison, Mercy is quite free in her writing, talking of teasing, and wanting attention, and who was drunk when. Her journal, even with its limitations, is a hotbed of commentary, thoughts, and feeling. She appears as a young woman wanting to break free of the stereotypes placed on women at the time, at least in terms of her discursive identity.

  Saturday, November 5th,

  [en route from Niagara Falls to Cleveland, Ohio]

  On board the cars for Cleveland. We did not go on last night. The landlord at the Hotel told Pa we could just as well go on this morning so we remained at the Hotel all night and started at 6 this morning. We expect to get to Uncles before dark. It is a splendid day. The sun is rising splendidly. I feel so lonesome this morning without the familiar group. I wonder if they are thinking of me this morning. Mr. Tilley will have enough to do to take care of Mrs. Alexander [emphasis mine].

  Mercy obviously hopes Leonard Tilley is thinking about her, wants him to be thinking of her, even if he is busy with the “care” of Mrs. Alexander. Clearly, Mrs. Alexander has been dominating and demanding Tilley’s attention, and Mercy has missed his company and his “taking care” of her as he did at the very first event, where “Mr. Tilley took charge of me and walked about with me the whole evening.” One doesn’t have to do much reading between the lines to see there was a lot of manoeuvring for the men’s attention, from the Mr. Carver the Steeves sisters were “monopolizing,” to Mrs. Alexander needing “care.”

  9 o’clock, here we are stopt in the road. Something is the matter with the engine. We have been here nearly a half an hour. Such a thing did not happen before since we left home. The Grand Trunk is the line. I have not much faith in Yankee Railways. They have sent back to the Station to get another engine. We are going backwards now. I must say it is not very lively to be brought to a full stop in this way. Another engine has come up and we are off again. We intended to stop at Painesville but a man said it would be nearer to go to Cleveland. We arrived at Cleveland at 3 and are now in the train for Warren. It is a splendid day, such a difference from the Canadian weather. Cleveland is a nice city, a great many more factories and some very nice shops. The streets are very wide.

  Sunday Morning, November 6, Warren, Ohio

  Warren We arrived here last night at 8 o’clock, it was too late to go on to Bloomfield so we remained here all night. We start for Bloomfield this morning for Mr. Dunkerton’s which is 15 miles [to the north]. It is a beautiful morning.

 
Monday, November 7, 1864, Bloomfield, Ohio

  We arrived here at Uncle Dick’s [Dunkerton] yesterday at noon, it was a long drive and indeed I was very glad when the driver announced we had arrived. Aunt Elizabeth [Haine] is quite an old woman. I think I should have known her by her photograph. Uncle Dick is an original, he reminds me very much of Gr[and]papa. He was so delighted to see mamma, so was Aunt. They had almost given us up. They have 4 children [at home]. 2 boys, 2 girls. Sarah is quite a housekeeper. Jane is very much like mamma only not so rosy. The boys are half grown. In the afternoon Uncle William arrived. I was not a bit disappointed in him, he is just as I [unclear] he was, a large, stout healthy looking man, very handsome. His wife is a very nice woman. We all go there to dine and stay all night to night. They ate crackers and cheese this morning. No servants, here they all do their own work. I am not surprised Bertie found it so different at our house where he had a half a dozen to work on him. I am so sorry he isn’t here, he has been away 2 months at Chattanooga. His sister Mary was married a fortnight ago yesterday. Aunt has promised to send and let his other sister know we are here so she may come to see us.

  Tuesday, November 8, 1864, Bloomfield, Ohio

  We drove to Uncle William’s yesterday and arrived just in time for dinner. They have such a nice house. After dinner, Lottie and Ellen arrived from Farmington. Lottie is such a nice girl so much like Loo.*** They sang a nice melo[ioe / melody?] and in the even-ing we had such nice singing. Frances Haine now Mrs. Hawkins, William Haine’s wife and her baby and another Mrs. Hawkins and her husband, Sarah Symes, and Bertie’s sister Mrs. Cook**** and her children. Aunt Dunkerton’s daughter was there. Bertie’s beau Annie Creighton was there and her brother. We were such a large party. Uncle William is the dearest old man I ever met. Lottie and I left together and didn’t we chat.

  Uncle took us to his mill, he has a mill where he grinds corn and wheat. Ma and I were weighed. Ma 220. Mine 138. Aunt Elizabeth 194. Aunt Sarah [is] as stout as Ma but she does not weigh as much. The Presidential Election came off today. Uncle William and Pa went to the Poll. I think they were pretty much all the same way, very few seats for Mr. [George B.] McClellan [emphasis mine].*****