Fort Macleod April 23rd ‘75

My darling Lizzie

Major Walsh and party left yesterday and took our letters with him. He expects to get into Sun River on Monday, remain there a week and come out again with all our horses. I told you of the fright about the Indians at Whoop Up did I not? There [sic] fright was not in vain – hardly had Major Walsh started when news was brought to the Col. That over 40 head of horses had been stolen from the “Blood” Indians in the vicinity of Whoop Up. An expedition was organized immediately consisting of 18, the Col., Capt. Crozier and Mr. Welch – taking 10 days’ provisions with them. And they left last evening, expecting to have to go to the Cypress Hills. We nearly had a fire also. The wind was very high, and a spark had lodged in the roofing of Cpt. Winder’s room and there been fanned by the breeze until it had made some headway. A few buckets of water however soon put it out. The assembly sounded and the men were marched at the double to form a continuous line to the river and buckets passed from one to another. We soon had water enough to fill every thing available. There was no damage done.

March 20th

I did not finish Jack's letter last night. I was interrupted by the advent of Welch & Crozier who insisted on my going into the Mess Room to play Casino, so I went + spent some time there. This morning tho' I got up decently early. I had some little things to do which kept me fully occupied until 9 o'clock, so I did not write to you this morning. At one o'clock today, the trial of the would be deserters took place. Evidence was taken sufficiently to hear that they were trying to desert and they were [?] and for some time. During the trial I took my sketch book and made a sketch of the grave of Parks[?] who died shortly after our arrival here. His friends had written out that they would like to see the place he was buried in. Then I sat down to a chess problem and worked at that until dinner time. After dinner I had a bath. You know this is "Aunt Elizabeth's" eight. How quickly time does fly. Easter is almost here, tomorrow will be Palm Sunday. Your birthday is somewhere about here. I have an idea that it is today. You know you never told me when it was. [?] it is I wish you many many happy[?] returns[?] of it, and hope that the next one I may be with you to spend the day. Oh darling how I do long to see you again. The intense yearning craving desire for you is at time almost unbearable. I can scarcely allow myself the luxury of thinking for it makes me wild and discredited and I might do something rash.

Now do you like this [?]? [?] [?] made from the "Graphine"(sic) into paper. I have run our of black ink and did not notice it until too late to get any more. I have your letter of the 7th Dec. in front of me. You poor silly child. The idea of your bothering about sending me anything. Don't you know that your letters are inexpressibly dear to me that nothing more could be wished for except, what do you think? Those [?] of Longfellow remind me of some I saw in [?] [?] chillingly, and which you remember I tried to find an anchor for. Do you think you can find out who wrote them?

The desire of the moth for the star. The night for the morrow. The hope for something afar. From the sphere of our sorrow.

I quote from memory but those are something like the words. I am so sorry to hear that your mother has been so unwell. I hope that long 'ere[?] this she has quite recovered her [?] health. I am afraid that Bridget will never make a fortune at Fortune-telling, although she seems to have been wisely obscure as to the time when I should put in my sudden appearance. Lizzie you know that I can never doubt you. If you find Mr. Hodder's[?] drives give you pleasure, by all means go with him and only think that I am too glad that you are having pleasure. You know too, better than I can tell you, that it matters little what people say + of course they will talk, so see for yourself and never think but what I am. Your own undoubting Barrie.

Mar. 5th

Nothing going on to day. I made out a table of the temperatures for February. It was above zero most of the time. Welch is going away for a week on leave, he starts tomorrow. I think he does not intend to go far, but merely wishes to break the weary monotony of Barrack life. I went up this afternoon to the Indian Camp to see the sick woman. She was ever so much better. I took a sketch of an [?] of a wigwam not very good but something like [?] the old cry No Mail. Surely something must have happened to the man.

Feb. 27th

I again went up to the Blackfoot Camp this time with Welch alone. I intended making a sketch of the camp, but the wind was too cold + numbed my fingers. Crowfoot had quite recovered and was rejoicing accordingly. I promised to operate on the eyes of one of his sons[?]/ I [?] making an artificial pupil, when I can get some instruments. No Mail, oh my.

Feb 26th

This morning shortly after breakfast, I took Welch and Jerry Potts, our interpreter[?] and went up to the Blackfoot Camp to see their Chief Crowfoot, who was quite sick. I gave him some medicine, and then assisted[?] Jerry in endeavoring to persuade a runaway squaw to come back to her husband. We succeeded. Since our arrival the squaws have struck[?], refusing to work and the husbands are in a quandary, if they follow their usual plan they would kill or mutilate the women, + thus keep them in order, but the women would now report this to the Commissioner, + the place would be rather hot[?] for the husbands. It is too bad. Again the day has passed and no Mail. Good night.

Feb 17th

I am afraid that this can scarcely be called a ‘diary letter’. So many days have passed without my writing anything in it. I leave you to imagine the humdrum life I am leading, every day the same thing. On Monday night Crozier Welch Denny and I went up to Crowfoot’s Camp to the dance. The evening did not pass quite so pleasantly as former ones perhaps because we were becoming satiated with so much dissipation. Crozier Welch + Denny were each kissed by various squaws + had to give them a pledge, we returned to the Fort early. I was not called upon to dance. I was just as well pleased as tho’ I had danced at the evening. On Tuesday Waxy’s trial was finished and he was convicted of indirectly trading whiskey to the Indians, + sentenced to a fine of $500.00 + six months imprisonment. He is now cogitating over his misdemeanors in the Guard Room. Smith was fined $300.00 and six months imprisonment. The warrant for his imprisonment was held over + he is to leave the country, not to come back within a year. One or two minor cases also came off relative to the possession of horses. Tuesday night my tooth began aching + kept me awake the greater part of the night. It has continued to ache all day to day + is still pounding away. It did not prevent me going with Col. McLeod to the Willow Creek Bluff about ¾ miles from the Camp to signal to some of the officers. A horse race came off this afternoon between Allen’s + Kanouse’s horses. Kanouse won. I saw the race from the Bluff. I took another sketch of the exterior of the Fort of Col. McLeod, he is going to send it to his sister Mrs Baldwin + to have it Photographed. My tooth aches so I can scarcely sit still, nothing does it any good, but rubbing the gum with strong Tr[?] Sodium. I must tell you before I stop that it is raining to night, a slight drizzle, but enough to show you that now, it is not very cold. Good night darling. I hope soon to hear from you. Perhaps by tomorrow you will have received my last letters. I do not know when this will meet your eye, but am afraid it will not be for some time. Good night once more.

Feb. 8th

The Chenook [Chinook] continues and the prairies are a series of lakes running brooks + mud holes. You never saw such a change in your life, a few days ago, so white and cold and hard, now so black + brown + wet. This morning I got up and had a smoke before sick parade + had my breakfast afterwards. After breakfast I had one or two little things connected with the Mess which kept me busy until noon, I then sat down to read + read most of this afternoon. I got up and went out in the brush trying to find a shinny stick, but was unsuccessful. I then came home and read some more. After dinner I came in to write to you and that is what I am now doing. Allen + Welch were sent out this afternoon to look for some wagons that are expected in, they, (Allen + Welch) have just returned. I do not know if they saw the wagons or not. Winder was sent out this afternoon to get a runaway wife to return to her sorrowing Indian husband – I believe with success. I have set myself down to learn the Blackfoot language, and think that in a few months I shall probably be able to converse in broken Indian. Shall I write you a letter in Blackfoot? Some of the words are fearful jawbreakers, but time and use will render them easier on my jaw more accustomed, to them, I am going to leave you for the present and go down to the squaw dance.

Jany. 8th.

Last night the thermometer at -36º! Since the first of this month the thermometer has been below zero all the time, with the exception of one day when I was 11º above. The wind has changed to day + is blowing from the West. I hope it will continue so for a time, for then we are likely to have fine moderate weather. This morning, I did not get up until 9.30, no one wakened me and I slept on quite unconscious that the Sick bugle had sounded – Ferland however came over to see me + wakened me. I could not think what made me sleep so soundly, until just a few moments ago, I laid it down to a walk I took yesterday, with Welch + my gun – we went about 8 miles after deer – but were unfortunate, both of us fell into the river. I got my beautiful proboscis frozen + we saw no deer. My nose is not going to drop off, don’t be afraid of that, it was only slightly touched with frost on the left side near the point. I dare say it will peel. At present it looks fat + is as shiny as the traditional Ethiopian’s Hell, + red as a grog [?] blossom. It is an edifying spectacle, I assure you. It feels as tho’ somebody has been unsuccessfully trying to wrench it off. Mother always had a horror of my nose freezing + falling off, she always used to caution me about my nose.

Col. McLeod told us to night that a mail would probably leave for Benton the day after tomorrow. “Probably” means if it is not too cold. When will you get this? It seems an age since I began to write it + yet I can hardly believe that it is only 11 days ago. How impatiently I am waiting for another letter from you. The last I received was from St. Catherine’s – you told me the next would be from Toronto. I do so want to hear again from you. What a horrid man Mr. Beaty must be – to go and turn you away from your little curch hall. I hope that you will like the room under the Temperance Hall. It will be a little longer walk for you on Sundays. You must tell me all about how the thing ended and what Mr. Beaty intends doing. Will any one remain at the old building? What about that little building on Pembroke Street, did you not tell me that that was one of your churches? Does it belong to your uncle too? Do you remember the evening we passed it? Going up to the gardens? I found the programme of that evening in the inside of that black hard hat I used to wear, I had thrown the hat away, an Indian got it + was wearing it, but before the Indian got it I found this programme, this was way down at the Old Wives Creek. How many happy recollections that brought back. Brookhouse Bowler, “Let me like a soldier fall”, Don Cesar de Bezan, Maritana[?].

The walk home, the pleasant evening after. Ah, when shall we ever again have such a fun joyous happy peaceful time. Do you recollect asking me which proverb I thought would come true – “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” or the other one, which I will not even write? Well, do you find any trouble – in your case, in telling which one is likely to be true? I do not, I never had any – I never will have any trouble about such a question.

The wind is whistling outside in the most dismal manner, but it is from the right quarter. The wind too finds many a crack + hole in our mud plastered walls, + away from the stove makes it pretty cold. I am going, as soon as the weather permits, to get a window put in my bedroom, and then I intend having the ceiling covered with a heavy awning cloth, + line the walls with factory cotton. This will keep some of the wind out and make the place to much brighter than it does at present. I have not yet taken a sketch of the interior of the fort for you, but must get one to send off by this mail. I must leave you for tonight as I want to finish a letter to Mannie, or rather add something to an already finished letter, so good night.

December 30th

You will notice that my last letter or rather the first page of this letter was commenced upon the wrong side of the page, don’t let it bother you. This morning as usual I was up in time for sick parade, my servant calls me every morning at 8.30, gets my things together, brushes my boots and fetches water for me to wash in – the sick list this morning was nothing much. The morning was most bright and beautiful, the sun shining through the clear bright atmosphere, the mercury stood at 18º below zero, but we did not feel the cold. After breakfast I set about making the mattresses and at noon I rode down to Kanouse’s and fetched Brooks up to the Hospital, he stood the journey pretty well. I got him safely into bed – and I fancy he is pretty comfortable. I had lunch then and then read a little medicine – Mr. Weatherwax, a trader, was up here today to enter a lot of horses that he had just brought from Benton, and said that his train was a day behind + had an immense mail for us – probably it would be up tomorrow. He expects it about 3 o’clock at his place and thinks by 4 o’clock it should be here. I hope it is true – that there is a mail – there seems to be no doubt – but as to its size and whether it is all the mail matter that has accumulated in Garry for us during our absence is another question. Shall I go on telling you of my associates? I have told you of Winder and Jackson and Denny – Denny knows T.C. Patteson, met him way off in Illinois, they both come from the same county in England. Welch is another young Englishman. His father has command of the Queen’s Yacht. Welch was rather inclined to be wild and was sent out to America to travel – he has been in Buffalo working there + has gone through Charleston Savannah Florida + New Orleans. He put up finally at Ottawa I believe he had some Government situation there – he joined the force as a Private or Sub-Constable was are they called – and through Political influence was made an officer. He is a little stout chap with a curling lip, knows snatches of nearly every song that is going but although not a bad fellow to meet with, I do not exactly like him, perhaps I judge him too harshly. I do not think I could trust him, he would not have the slightest scruple in getting a person into trouble is he happened to take a dislike to him, + he is continually taking dislikes to people. Allen is a Canadian, son of Dr. Allen solong Mayor of Cornwall he is a broth of a boy – a man without principle + coarse – but he is good humoured and jolly + easy to get along with – does not drink although he swears worse than any trooper – I am living with him now – in preference to being with Winder and Jackson – Crozier is an Irishman by birth, but has lived for a very long while in Canada and claims the proud title of Canadian. He is a Belleville man – has been in the Registrar’s Office in Belleville – he is tall rather nice looking and excellent company, good natured, does his duty well, and might be called a good square-toed fellow – he is older than the other three sub Inspectors. He’s acting Adjutant to Col. MacLeod. But now I must say good night. Oh what joy awaits me tomorrow, for I am sure to get letters from you – even if they are old, they will be in your own dead handwriting. God bless you.