Fort MacLeod, Dec. 18th 1874

Now for one of those grand Diary Letters! Do you not feel very much frightened at being the repository of secrets which weigh down to the ground the mighty medicine man of the Palefaces? If you do not – then all I can say is that you do not show a proper respect for the aforesaid man of Power – (& Pills). I feel very happy my darling – happier and more contented than I have for many a long long weary day. Your dear letters have infused new life into me. the fond assurance that you are well in spite of little slips of a sore lip of a cold & a feeling of weakness & tiredness on the slightest exertion fills me with Joy. How have I not imagined you – in all possible ills that human flesh is heir to – having in the wild delirium of fever or knowing in dire pain – and calling on me to help you and I far away & ignorant of it all and even if I knew of it utterly powerless to aid you and unable to come to you. Many a night I have lain awake torturing myself with these painful reflections. But now they give place to a happier train of thought I know my little girl is taking care of herself if not for my sake then for her own and is enjoying herself too. I am so thankful dear, that you have so many kind friends who are able to comfort my darling & distract her thoughts from one gloomy subject like myself – knowing as I do that the distraction is only from the gloomy side of the picture & that pleasant scenes & pleasant friends tried to engender pleasant thoughts, even in one of a melancholy somber turn of mind – how much more then in my own little girl. Last evening I read over all your letters – the first time I only glanced over them looking for the latest news of yourself – last night however I only labeled the envelopes with dates & read them in chronological order. I forgot to tell you that yesterday noon I received another batch of letters – from you written in November from St. Kitts – and one from Ted Covernton. I can only give you nothing for your Tinytype. I am so wholly yours I have nothing left to give you – but my and that will never fail, it is like the old fairy tale of the jug of milk the more they used the more there was to use or little the Widow’s cruse of oil – never failing. Your tobacco pouch needs no apologies & what care I for severe judges on the prairie or elsewhere? did they make the pouch? Could money purchase [ ] one? No--- what then do you mean by making excuses for it, it needs none. At the same time I have no strong objections to supervise the manufacture of the next. I had to stop here for dinner was just being put on the ‘table’ (which is a large packing case raised from the ground on a 10 gallon alcohol case) and consequently I had to decamp after dinner I went down to see my sick man being offered a seat in the sumptuous conveyance I gladly accepted the offer & drove down on a hay rack – four in hand team trotting across the frozen country – no springs. I digested my dinner well. I found my patient ever so much better & a good sign was that he was asking for something to eat. He will I think recover from this attack but I cannot say so much of the next. I had borrowed a rifle from Denny one of the officers - & walked towards camp through the bush on the opposite side of the river – thinking to see some prairie chicken or hares – but I was not fortunate and came in feeling nicely tired & hungry as a wolf. It was now too dark to do anything inside the room so I went over to the hospital and found some putty & began puttying the panes of glass in my window. I continued to do this until it was too dark even for that & then the bugle sounded – for the guard to fall in – and I watched the adjutant inspect it – and the officer of the day march it off & relieve the old guard. It was now tea time – and I fell to with a will. Then taking off my boots & putting on my slippers – do you recollect making them for me? the black ones with the bunch of flowers & my smoking cap – do you remember that? The philosopher. Did you object so much to being caught in a philopoena as you do to losing a bit? Then filling my pipe I lit it of course & began reading the ‘mails’ Jack sent me. then tossing these aside I talk to my own little dear & first of all let me crave your pardon for not having before given you a real diary letter. My reason was the absurd scarcity of paper. You could not get any there was none in the country – but now I have received my stationery (a or e?) I will be very culpable indeed if I do not fulfil my promise. I want to speak about some little things in your letters. I am very much obliged to Miss Louisa Chisholm for making you take so much outdoor exercise – it is good for you. If she would only make you go to bed earlier it would be better still. The idea of trotting about all day and then sitting up to such unconscionable hours – half past one! Why did you not sit up all night? Don’t do it anymore Liz – even to write to me. Poor Frank – I had heard nothing about his illness. His brains were afflicted than his spine. Then he had some reason in what he said about his head going to sleep. Poor fellow. How they used to teaze him about that speech at the Cameron’s. I am so glad he is getting better. Tell him that I wrote to him - & if I had known of his weak state Especially the brain – I would have written a very simple letter – with no word of more than one syllable. I am really very sorry for him – but I feel so happy in hearing from you & also in the knowledge that he is now out of danger that I may be excused from Joking at him.

I am very glad old woman that you have come to like Ned Armour – he is a really good kind hearted Christian thoroughly earnest & as warm hearted as he is undemonstrative. Ned and I were always good friends – especially when by his laziness & being led away by Ned Burke he lost the scholarship at Trinity – since then each year has only cemented our friendship more closely. I am glad now that I am not at Edmonton. Very glad, indeed. Then the only chance of a mail would have been the H.B.Co.’s Wireless Packet & they would not have been able to bring all the mail matter for us. My old horse is picking rapidly & getting quite strong – when I left him to go to Benton I scarce expected to see him again – but since he has been here he has had no work to do but an occasional ride down to Kanonsis where my sick men were – Now old ‘Satan’ has gone to Sun River to pass the Winter. I wonder if he will forget me when he is away.

I too am glad my precious darling that you wrote that letter. You have no idea of the sense of overwhelming comfort it gave to me on the wild prairie. It seemed to make one feel at once that I was not lost that I was in my Father’s keeping – and that the spirit of your prayers hovered over me and that I was not even alone. And since then I have as before talked to your dear handwriting on the envelope – but now I could open it and hear you answer me. You would often have laughed to hear me asking the senseless bit of paper with some ink scratches on it the gravest questions and keeping up a conversation with it. Many a time too Old ‘Satan’ has no doubt cogitated on my sanity. For while we were on the march, he walking along beside me – I would talk to him about you by the hour & when I saw his bright eye of which alas! grew very dim before we got to our journey’s end I glance at me – I would throw my arms around his neck lay my head against his and tell him I wished it was you. The poor old fellow would stop & look at me so sorrowfully – as much as to say – “Now don’t take on so – all will come right in time”. Then perhaps we would see a little piece of the prairie which looked not quite so parched as the rest & we would make towards it and he would try to get a mouthful to appears that dreadful “Tiger” inside of him. Did you ever read “Blades of Grass” by Farjean? You will then know what I mean by the Tiger.

– Good night –

Fort MacLeod, December 16th 1874

My Dear Liz

This is a day that must ever be marked with a white store – for today we, I speak collectively for the force, received a portion of mail matter. I got a letter from Jack dated Oct. 11 Yours of Oct. 5th, 9th, 12th, 19th, 26th – one from Mannie of the same month – some from Aunt Ellie & Mannie of Oct. 16th also some copies of the Mail – for which I am deeply thankful. You will receive at the same time as this a letter from me – complaining very much of the letters not coming. I had almost begun to fancy something was wrong – but the fact that no one received letters made me feel that the wrong lay in the transportation. Thank God my darling that you are well. How many many times the dragging thought has haunted me that you might be ill and I not at hand to help you take care of you. All day long I have been so busy getting a list of drugs & medicines required that had to go by Major Walsh who left at 12 to day - & he had not been gone an hour when the letters came I spent the afternoon reading your letters but can hardly answer any questions. I was only cognizant of the fact that I was reading your own dear letter and I knew you to be well. I have not read any of the other letters but Jack’s. I find I have an opportunity of sending this letter after Major Walsh & can only hurriedly say that I have received yours. I am well that is all I can say. Well – everything has an end and so have long periods of time – perhaps I will one day receive your other letters – which are now wandering somewhere between Toronto & Fort MacLeod and the North Pole & the Equator.

I will just look over your last letter again. So you are in St. Kitt? Remember me most kindly to Miss Taylor and so my promotion & increase of salary is good news is it? Don’t you think that the natural consequences of that will be to lengthen my stay here? Perhaps you ought to look at it in this light viz that I am here for the purpose of making a sum of money that the larger my salary is the more rapidly will that sum be accumulated and consequently the sooner will I return. I must say that I can hardly give credence to the report. How did Dr. Thorburn know anything about it? However if you mean what you say – Old Woman, beware! I may stay out here for a longer time than at present I expect to. But if you do not want me there will be no object in my going back too soon. Your letter did not reach me in time for my Birthday nor late enough for Christmas. I hope that you will get this about New Year’s day. Thank you ever so kindly for your beautiful Tobacco pouch. It is quite acceptable I hope sincerely that I will superintend the making of the next one – perhaps too I will ‘catch’ you at it. I was going to reread your letters & answer any questions I might find in them but find that if I read I can’t write so I will only write. While I was still reading your letters this afternoon, I had to go down to Kanouse’s to see one of my sick men. He is poor fellow very ill I do not think that he will ever recover he may get over this sharp attack, but is liable at any moment to suddenly drop dead. Poor fellow – he is his grandmother’s only grandchild & had lived with her all his life – never having been away from her until he came on this expedition. He must have been longing to see the wrinkled old face & to hear the tremulous accents of his old second mother – to hear from her or of her – and here I was in the bloom of health blessed with news from my loved ones, while he poor chap lay suffering in mind & body without one scrap of comfort. It seems so hard. I talked with him a long time and it was quite dark when I got back & found tea waiting and your letters still unfinished & Jack’s & Mannie’s & the Home letter & Ned’s all to be read. I first went to the Colonel & told him I wanted some one to go down & sit up with the sick man – went & got the likeliest man for that purpose and made up some medicine for him – gave directions how it was to be taken – came in had tea – lit my pipe and then finished your letters & Jack’s & the Home one. I think you must be mistaken when you say that mother has suffered so much with her ear and eye. Aunt Ellie says it is Aunt Lou & if it were Mother what would she be doing way up in Philadelphia. I must close now with fervent heartful thanks to the glorious giver of all good things & with my best love to my own Lizzie.

Barrie

Fort MacLeod, December 14th 1874

My dear Lizzie

You will guess by the reappearance of this style of paper that I have received my valise from Fort Edmonton and I can only praise your rapid perception I have they came in today brought by the man MacPherson who I believe I told you left us at the St. Mary’s River to go to Edmonton, and has only just returned, taking just about two months. I was dreadfully disappointed at not receiving any letters. Mr. MacDougall the missionary, when he was here said that there was a large mail for us at Edmonton & had raised our hopes to almost a certainty & to be thus disappointed is too exasperating. However there are two more chances by which we may get letters and if both of these fail why I think I had better settle my brains for a long long winter’s nap of silence and anxiety. Major Walsh went to Helena & Sun River got what letters there were in Benton & brought them on – but none for me. I have written you by every possible chance – and this is to go tomorrow & has to be in the orderly Room tonight by 9 o’clock. I am going to try and be patient & still hope for a line from you – but it really seems as tho’ fate was against the Police force receiving letters. I hope that my letters have not miscarried. Have you received any from me? the only letter I have had at all was one from Father in answer to one I wrote him from Fort Benton. I wrote to you at the same time. The last letter I wrote you we were in the midst or had just had a severe spell of cold weather. After that it moderated considerably and for the past few days have been very mild. We are still in our tent. The Officers Quarters are so near to their completion that we propose taking up our residence therein tomorrow. We have had the walls & roof covered with old lodge skins which will prevent the mud from coming down in such quantities as to smother us, and will also keep out a good deal of wind. Another comfort in the house will be that when it blows we will not lie awake all night with our clothes on to be ready to jump and run whenever the tent blows down. Not that the tent ever had blown down with us, since we set to work to prop it up securely but the wind blows with such fearful violence & the tent shakes and flaps to such a degree that one imagines the next gust will surely bring it down.

When I have told you of the weather and our present conditions and of our future residence & of our disappointments hopes & expectations there will be nothing left to tell – no news – no nothing. You would not care to hear that it took Major Walsh 40 days to go to Sun River and back. You might think it all right but the trip is generally made in 5 days. Nor that it took Thomas’ teams 28 days to come from Fort Benton here – a trip that has been made in 2 ½ days you would probably ask who Thomas was & want to know if 28 days was a long time. Thomas has a hard time to come through he got caught in the snow storm on a large bit of burnt prairie, the cattle could not travel in the storm and they could not live on nothing hence they did the only thing they could do which was die & accordingly they did. The men were left out on the open prairie without wood, a team of horses had to go back 30 or 40 miles for wood, but finally the men & wagons came in all right. But not until oxen were sent down to haul them in. Helena Montana is nearly starved out on account of all the provision trains being stuck in the snow. So you see the Mounted Police are not the only ones who can lose horses and cattle on the plains. What have the papers said of us? I suppose you have heard some queer old stories concerning the Police. Col. MacLeod has been appointed Customs Agent for this portion of the North West Territories and has created no little dismay among the traders around, by sending to get an account of their stock. They seemed to think it peculiarly hard that not only should their most lucrative trade in whiskey be stopped but also the slower mode of trading goods should be heavily taxed. However they will get over that or leave the country. I have not been able to get a good sketch of the Fort for you yet as the Fort is not yet finished, but I trust will soon be able to do so. It is a very hard thing to sketch if you get about 100 yards away from it you can scarcely see it, it is so low and if you get very close to it you can’t put it on paper.

My hospital is quite a comfortable place. I have a large box stove with a big drum which keeps the place warm & room for ten beds – a kitchen is attached to the place. I have a Hospital Sergt. & an orderly, who are under my complete command, & all the sick are of course to do exactly what I tell them. Our Sick list now never numbers more than 10 or 12 – at one time it reached so high as 45! Mostly colds - & no wonder – sleeping as they then were in tents without fires where their heads would be frozen to the ground in the mornings & their breath congealed over the buffalo skins & on the tents in big frost showers, working all day – in moccasins full of holes – or in boots without soles & in many many cases without socks. It is only wonderful that not more were attached with acute inflammatory afflictions.

And now I must say good bye to you my darling – write me soon directing to the care of I.G. Baker & Co. I print the directions for fear of mistakes – with love to all & kind regards for those who care to enquire after me. Believe me undoubtingly yours with fondest love.

Barrie

Fort MacLeod [ctd]

Nov. 22nd. I was interrupted here & have not been able to write since. My birthday, Dear me how old I am getting 24 yesterday. My hair is not yet grey nor am I bald. Since I wrote last the trains are still out. There has been no news no letters. It has been storming again and snowing. We have moved our quarters from the Bell tent to two large square tents one pitched over the other for the sake of comfort we have much more room & the double canvass keeps out more of the wind & cold. The first night we moved in the wind was blowing a perfect hurricane & the tent flapped & creaked & strained & shook - & the wind whistled & shrieked about us coming in gusts that struck against the tent like solid substance. You can form some idea of the winds force by comparing it to the storm of last December – a little else violent but fearfull strong. I got not a wink of sleep – tho’ I was very sleepy. During the night the wind which was from the South West changed & clew from the North East and snow came with it. I had heard the next day that some of the men who had been removed to me of the trading posts about four miles away – were taken very bad so I set out in all the storm to make my way down to see them. I was in my black coat – the one I used to wear two or three winters ago – no vest a buffalo fur cap & moccasins. I ran all the way, the wind was on my left cheek and blew bitterly cold. The snow eddied and whirled about me blinding & obscuring objects within a hundred yards of me. a great cliff over 80 feet high I could not see until I was at its very foot and has begun to climb up it when finding it so steep I rolled down in a lull of the wind saw what it was. It was dark by the time I got back & tea was ready for which I was very thankful. The men were doing very well and tho’ very glad to see me yet in no great need of my attention. I have been down then twice since then but the wind was nothing only the cold was greater. The trader at the fort did not want me to come back that night he said he was afraid I would get lost or frozen but I persisted & feel proud in achieving a feat which old backwoodsmen did not dare & even Indians were sitting around their lodge fires. The men have all move into their quarters but our quarters are as yet unroofed and unmudded. I should not be surprised if we had to remain in tents all winter. This is not the earthly paradise it was represented to be[,] far from it. It is a howling wilderness & it remains to be seen whether civilization can do anything to turn it to a better country & make the wilderness blossom as the rose. I think this letter is getting too long so I will close it now and begin a new one. Remember me kindly to all – and Believe me to love you fondly if not more than ever. Goodbye – write soon.

Your own

Barrie

Fort MacLeod [ctd]

Nov. 19th. It is now a week since I last wrote to you. The teams I told you of as being expected in with letters came & brought me a letter and a great disappointment. I got a letter from Father in answer to one I wrote him from Ft. Benton – this was dated from Savannah Oct. 7th. It took just 13 days for my letter to reach him from Benton. I expected one from you but I was disappointed there, however better luck next time. There are other teams some at Fort Hamilton – may be in any day – they also may have leters. The second are Conrads & are stuck in the snow which is over three feet deep – they have sent out about 60 oxen more to bring them along. They have no letters but a good deal of stuff for us & in such we stand in a great deal of need. Since I was last writing we have has some very cold weather the thermometer being down 26º & 28º below zero. The average temperature fr the past week has been only 2º.

Fort MacLeod [ctd]

Nov. 12th

I do not know when a mail will go out or when ours will come in. I had a letter written waiting for you also one for Frank Darling and one for Harry Stotesburg a large wagon train is now expected in every day – it was heard of the day before yesterday at the St. Mary’s River. Is only 3 days from here – whether this has letters for us no one can tell. Every night in the candles a large bunch of letters points to me I look at them & wonder if they will be soon here. We have made a checker board & checkers of gun wads & now pass the evenings in friendly contests. Euchre – poker – whiskey poker too – Fare – Vingteten playing for gun wads – whiskey poker was played for tobacco. I never played for anything but gun wads & they are always given back at the end of the game. We are now likely to get into our quarters before the six weeks I spoke of are out – we have changed the mode of building – from cross logs to pickets. The first of these little drawings is meant to represent the cross log mode the latter the picket – with pickets a trench is dug & the logs set up on end and the logs are much shorter & more easily handled than in the other cross log mode. I will try when the place is built to draw you a small sketch of the place and send it to you. In that you may have some faint idea of the appearance of things around me. you would laugh to see me handling the pick & shovel. I bet you I can beat the Corporatino workers in Toronto. I have become quite an expert in their use – the axe too I can handle quite deftly – at heaving logs I am a lumberman – sawing with the cross cut saw is child’s play. I feel my arms and legs & back very very sore and stiff but there is nothing like more work to take that out of a man. The hardest work of all is mudding the chinks – we bring a stiff blue clay that is found in profession here & mix it with water & slap it as hard as we can into the chinks between the logs – it is so cold that the mud & water freeze into great huge lumps or freeze on our hands – which have to be held in the fire until the outside coating of ice melts. The pain is sometimes almost unendurable till we get used to it – and every day now gets colder & makes it worse yet it has to be done – the outside work is the hardest – when we get to doing the inside we can have warm water to mix the mud & will be protected from the wind. I had to stop & sign the sick Reports & then went over to see some sick Indians. They gave me a pair of Buffalo moccasins with the hair inside very warm. This may be said to be my first fee in the great North West from the noble redman. I got one pair from a half breed for attending to her child. By the time I was through with the Indians it was dinner time & after dinner I walked up the river 4 miles to a traders - & heard that he expected a train in from Benton every day – he had heard they were only 25 miles from here yesterday. He thinks too they have letters for us they left Benton 20 days ago. I hope sincerely they have letters. Oh what a disappointment if they have not and what pleasure if they have. Conrad is going to send his ox teams back to Fort Benton and the remained of our horses go back with him. Most probably he will take our letters too. One of our mens quarters 100 feet long is all ready for the roofing – which will in all probability be done tomorrow – then the others will follow in quick succession but numerous things yet remain to be done. It has begun to snow again to night and how long it will keep up no one knows. The weather is pretty cold all the time never even at noon being above freezing point. I wonder what you are doing. This evening after tea at 6.30 I had a smoke. I know you did not do that. Then the Col. & Winder & the Adpt. Crozier – began talking of the Fort Garry times. The Winder and I had a game of checkers in which after a protracted game he beat me. now I am writing to you. Did I ever tell you of my tent mates since we came up here. We have a Bill Tent – round – and there are three of us in it. Capt. Winder commanding “C” Troop – a tall man with whiskers & beard of a reddish brown nearly bald – very quick in his way but full of jokes & a certain dry humor – he is from Compton near Lennoxville – and knows a good many of the people around there whom I used to know and heard about. He has been in California too & is quite a traveled man. Capt. Jackson is the very quintessence of fire the chance bristro Irishman he has red hair & a pair of fierce moustaches which he persists in curling he has strange coloured eyes – not green not grey but a mixture of grey & red. He is always playing a practical Joke on some one. He has command of the artillery we have. He is from Seaforth near Coderich. Very hot tempered but obliging. We get along together quite nicely. Our mess has an addition to it of Col. MacLeod – the Assist. Commissioner of the force – after every meal of course we have a smoke and discuss the affairs of the force & the probabilities of the weather but always fall back into talking of Homes & homie belongings. I believe I told you that he is connected with the Baldwins in Yorkville and also knows the Amour’s of Bowmanville in fact at one time he used to live in Bowmanville and was in partnership with Mr. Armour. He is a very nice fellow to have anything to do with. He is from Kingston and knows the Andersen’s & Fred Nelson quite well. So putting all together we have plenty to talk about. It is now nearly bed time so I will say goodnight for the present.

Fort MacLeod [ctd]

Nov. 2. Yesterday evening I took a short walk – but it was very cold – the thermometer being below freezing. We have been told time and again that this snow would only last for a day or two but now it has been on the ground for more than a week & the weather is getting colder and at the same time we hear stories of the extreme cold of winter which beat all that we have hitherto heard. At one time it was a most beautiful climate quite fairy like – now it beats that of Manitoba for extreme cold. It is strange what stories are told. My sick report for a day or two was very large no less than 26 being upon it – more than one sixth the whole strength of the force it has however dwindled down to a much smaller number only 12 this morning and 4 of them able to return to their duty. I wonder that more of the men are not sick – what with tramping around in the snow and slush in moccasins full of holes or boots without soles and sleeping in the cold tents. They must be pretty good men not to come in. When I come back to you I will be a hardy veteran and what is worse and awkward boor. I am sure I will have forgotten how to behave myself. I had at Fort Benton a slight inkling of how much I had forgotten and now with perhaps three years of loneliness and without womans’ refining influences can you imagine a more pitiable object than myself stuck down in a ladies drawing room? Don’t let us look so far forwards – unless you promise to take me under your protecting wing and before my appearance again in society teach me all the little kindly mannerisms of good behavior so I will not bring disgrace upon you by suddenly being turned loose. Very nearly four months of the thirty-six have gone by – that is about one ninth of the whole time – which leaves only eight ninths to be gone through. Is that not a great deal shorter than three years? I do not now even expect to get a leave of absence during the summer. If Kittson and the remained of the force come up next summer – I will probably be left at the fort with any sick there may be – or I may be moved up to Fort Edmonton or to the Bow River at old Bow Fort or anywhere that a new post may be established. So it will be good bye to all my big tour dreams. I must say good bye for the present. I don’t know when this will go – and will add a few lines before it does.

Your own

Barrie