Non classifié(e)
By Hailey Swift
Hailey Swift is a graduating student in the History Department at Bishop’s University. She completed an archival internship with the Eastern Townships Resource Centre over the Winter 2024 semester. Here is what she had to say about her internship experience.
One virtue of using the archives as an intern is that I did not know what I was getting into. I had no prior knowledge of the Loyal Orange Lodge fonds, nor the existence of the Loyal Orange Order. My first encounter with the documents were the minute books, financial ledgers, and more.
I was not the first individual to work on the Loyal Orange Lodge fonds; it was already divided into seven series based on location and content. Series one to five contain information about branches of the Loyal Orange Lodge located in different areas of Quebec, and series six is an artefact series consisting of ribbons. The seventh series, branch #689 of the Ladies Orange Benevolent Association, also known as the Maple Leaf Lodge, already existed within the Loyal Orange Lodge fonds but no descriptions of the materials had yet been added.
With such a long-standing association, some of the documents are around 154 years old; the earliest establishment date of the materials in the fonds is May 1, 1890. Because I was dealing with such old documents, and due to the majority of them being handwritten in nature, I enjoyed looking at the handwriting and how it evolved from the 1800s into the late 1900s – even from one individual to another, depending on who took the minutes or was in charge of the ledgers. Working on this project, I greatly appreciated my middle school teacher who forced my classmates and me to learn cursive on our own time; she refused to accept printing.
One of my tasks involved evaluating documents based on whether they should be archived in the Loyal Orange Lodge fonds or not. This involved verifying documents for duplicates, seeing whether a document had to be transferred to another fonds, and appraising a document for its historical value. One of my most enjoyable moments came from this process; in the box was a loose paper containing a receipt for a piano that had no outward connection to the Loyal Orange Lodge. I took note of the receipt’s date, and dug through one of the financial ledgers until I found the same date. Sure enough, the ledger included a purchase made from the company listed on the receipt for a piano. I had successfully connected the piano receipt to L.O.B.A. #689! Because we had a record of the purchase in the financial ledger, however, the receipt itself was considered to have no historical value; regardless, I felt much satisfaction in my brief investigative episode.
It should come as no surprise, then, that my favourite task was writing the authority records for the different branches. Authority records describe the individual persons, families, and corporate bodies (including associations and organizations) who create the documents that are kept in the archives. Writing the authority records involved both combing through the documents in the ETRC Archives and scouring BAnQ’s online newspaper database for mentions of the specific lodges in newspapers. From this process I learned a variety of facts; the significance of July 12th, Orangemen’s Day, and the community fostered by the Battle of the Boyne, which took place in 1690, and that the Loyal Orange Lodge meetings were sometimes held around 7:30 p.m. before the full moon.
My time spent with the Loyal Orange Lodge fonds allowed me to improve my archival skills, and gave me an appreciation for researchers and individuals who search through multitudes of information to reveal gems from the past.
By Jazmine Aldrich
The spring-like February weather that the Townships region has been experiencing this year raises alarm bells regarding our changing climate – but how do we know that the climate has really changed? In order to observe a change, climate scientists must benchmark change indicators over time and demonstrate patterns. Fortunately, many diarists had thoughts of posterity when they recorded near-daily weather observations. While these observations may not always be precise measurements, they provide us with enough information to plot changing weather patterns over time.
The ETRC Archives contains many such weather observations. One of our oldest sources on the local climate is a set of three diaries dating from 1836 to 1839. The diaries originate from Lacolle and were kept by an unidentified farmer. Nearly every day, the farmer records details such as the wind direction and strength, precipitation, clouds, and relative temperature.
Susanna Pearson’s 1874 diary focuses on her day-to-day activities, but also includes recipes, poetry, and details about the weather. She was born in the state of New York and her family moved to Shefford County early in her life. Susanna was 22 years old when she kept her diary, much of which was written during her time living and working in Boston. While Susanna’s diary is not a direct source on the weather in the Eastern Townships, it does provide near-daily observations of the weather in Boston, which can serve to compare and contrast other contemporary weather sources. For example, she notes on May 14, 1874: “The sun has come out fearful hot this morning,” and, the following day, “Very warm to day but not as oppressive as yesterday.”
Archie N. Jenks of Coaticook kept a diary from 1907 to 1911, from the ages of about 18 to 22. The diary spans Jenks’ time as a student at Coaticook Academy and later, at McMaster University in Toronto. Much of his diary recounts his time spent studying and reading, but Archie still peppers in references to the weather and its impact on his life; for example, he writes on New Years’ Eve of 1907: “If it does not snow I am going skating on the rink to-night.” On February 2, 1908, he notes the “[…] terrific snow and wind storm, trains delayed, business tied up” and, on the 5th of the same month, “Water pipe frozen.” Archie even makes weather comparisons within his diary, observing that on May 29, 1907, it was “snowing a little” whereas on May 22, 1911, it was 95 degrees Fahrenheit in the shade. We can use these diaries to compare February weather over a 71-year period. The farmer observes that February of 1837 was generally quite mild, with some snow (peaking on February 24), then returning to mild weather and even some rain towards the end of the month. On the other hand, Archie Jenks’ recollections of February 1908 are that it was generally cold, with moderate temperatures and a thaw towards the middle of the month, and moderate to cold temperatures towards the end of the month. While Susanna Pearson’s observations were not local, nor were they taken in February, hers capture a summer’s worth of the east coast climate in 1874. Each of these diarists were impacted to varying degrees by the changing weather, and each diary tells its own story of our climate’s past.
By Jazmine Aldrich
What information can we glean from a family photograph album of unknown origins? Surprisingly, quite a lot!
Last summer, the ETRC received a photo album that the donor, Lisette Gagné, had purchased from an antique dealer in Ayer’s Cliff in the early 2000s. Ms. Gagné had no personal connection to the family – she simply felt that the album was an important piece of history that should be preserved.
The album consists of 216 black and white photographs, as well as one postcard. The photographs mainly depict individuals and groups of people in domestic scenes, as well as landscapes and buildings. The dates of the photographs range from about 1916 to 1958. The greatest challenge for our Archives Department team, however, is that only 24 of the 216 photographs are identified.
A few of the individuals in the photographs are identified by first and last name, including Bessie Anderson, Edna Anderson, and Helen Anderson. The photographs of the Andersons were taken in West Norfolk, Virginia. It is possible that the Andersons were southern relatives or friends of someone in the Townships and that the photographs were received and added to the family album; or, perhaps the Andersons visited Virginia in 1917, when the photos were taken. Given that we have very little information about this album, we must consider a variety of explanations.
Others identified by first and last name include Leigh Smith, Robert Peacock, and Sam Marshall.
Leigh Smith’s photograph includes an inscription, which indicates that it was taken at “Newport High” in 1937. This could refer to Newport High School in Newport, Vermont, although there are cities called Newport scattered across North America and beyond.
The photograph of Robert Peacock is dated June 14, 1937. Peacock is wearing a graduation cap and gown, standing in front of a rural scene. Could this be the same Robert J. Peacock living in Brome-Missisquoi – 66 years old at the time of the 1931 census? Unlikely, as the subject of the photograph looks considerably younger than 72 years old. Maybe, he is the Robert Peacock who lived in Fulford/Bondville at the time of the 1921 census – though he was 46 then, which would make him 62 at the time of the photograph. One is never too old to graduate but context clues lead us to believe that we do not have a match, so the search continues.
Ms. Gagné researched Samuel Marshall (1844-1937) and found that he was born in Inverness, Megantic County, and lived in Sawyerville. He married Catherine Annie Jones Edwards (1859-1949) in Lower Ireland in 1886.
Several Lennoxville scenes, including the cenotaph in the former Lennoxville Square, a covered bridge in flood, and the C.P. trestle bridge, are featured in the album. Some Sherbrooke scenes include the Soldiers’ Memorial on King Street, the Lake Park Hotel, and the Granada Theatre. Other photographs appear to have been taken around Capelton and North Hatley. Overall, we get the sense of a strong Townships connection without strong ties to any one location.
Despite all of the above information that we have gathered, we still do not know the origins of this album. All of the photographs have been scanned and uploaded to our online database, the Eastern Townships Archives Portal, and are freely available at the following address: https://townshipsarchives.ca/unidentified-family-album. We encourage anyone with information about any of these photographs to contact us. Together, we hope to solve this mystery! If you have any information or would like to learn more about the history of the Eastern Townships, please contact the ETRC Archives by email or by telephone at 819-822-9600, extension 2261.
By Jazmine Aldrich
We at the ETRC can hardly believe that October is almost over and 2024 is just around the corner. As we embrace the last quarter of 2023, let’s reflect on a slice of life in the 1923 Eastern Townships, 100 years ago.
In East Angus, an exciting feat of engineering was making its first appearance. The Taschereau Bridge, which replaced the Brompton Pulp and Paper Company’s bridge over the St. Francis River, was inaugurated on August 1, 1923. It was named for the Quebec Liberal and 14th Premier, Louis-Alexandre Taschereau, who served in that role from 1920 to 1936. The bridge cost nearly $200,000 (almost 3.5 million, today) and was funded by the Government of Quebec as well as the Brompton Pulp and Paper Company. Decades before the Quiet Revolution, the inauguration ceremony began with a blessing of the bridge by the Monseigneur Alphonse-Osias Gagnon – at that time, Auxiliary Bishop of the Catholic Diocese of Sherbrooke. A banquet was held, following the inauguration ceremony, and Premier Taschereau addressed the gathering about his reservations regarding the Government of Canada’s proposition to prohibit the sale of Canadian pulp to the United States. Mr. Taschereau certainly knew his audience!
Meanwhile, from August 17th to 27th, 1923, the Boy Scouts’ 2nd Sherbrooke Troop were headed to camp in Ayer’s Cliff. The direction of the camp was under former District Scoutmaster, Peter M. Dennis, with Troop Leader Lynn Trussler serving as assistant director. The tents were supplied by the army courtesy of Colonel John J. Penhale. Aside from their regular scout training, the camp included swimming, campfire singalongs, hikes, fishing, baseball, and plenty of other activities. The camp was open to all scouts of the Eastern Townships, ranging from other Sherbrooke troops to Coaticook scouts, and even some boys who were not yet scouts but were potential recruits. A modest price of $5 per child for 2nd Sherbrooke Troop scouts and $6 for all others was charged. Parents and friends were encouraged to visit the camp and witness the fun being had. Saturday, August 25th was reserved as a special sports day where three silver cups were up for grabs, along with first- and second-prize ribbons. In an announcement published in the Sherbrooke Daily Record on July 31, 1923, it was asserted that “the camp is undoubtedly going to be a success” and a success, it was.
Over 2,500 people attended the unveiling of the war memorial in Lennoxville on December 16, 1923. The granite cenotaph with its bronze tablet bore the names of forty-seven soldiers who gave their lives during the First World War. At the unveiling ceremony, the 53rd Regimental Band played “Onward Christian Soldiers.” The Mayor Henry Washburn S. Downs delivered the opening address and Lieutenant-Colonel Reverend Arthur Huffman McGreer, Principal of Bishop’s College, delivered a dedication address. Reverend Father Leblanc gave an address in French. Reverend Canon Robert William Ellegood Wright said the prayer of dedication and Brigadier-General Dennis Colburn Draper unveiled the monument. The war memorial was originally located in what was known as the Square, though not the Square Queen that we know in 2023; the Square in 1923 was located at the intersection of Main Street (now Queen) and Belvidere (now College). The cenotaph was moved to its present location next to the Borough Office (at that time, the Town Hall) in 2000 and further inscriptions have since been added to honour those who fought in the Second World War, as well as in Korea, Vietnam, and Afghanistan.
By: Hannah Osborne-O’Donnell
In early September, the ETRC wrote about the military career of Stanstead-born Kenneth Clayton-Kennedy – but the story of his compelling life is far from over!
When we last left off, Major Clayton-Kennedy had founded two aircraft-related businesses, both of which failed to get off the ground. It may have been these failures that led Kenneth to embark on a career in the oil business.
By 1922, Clayton-Kennedy was one-fifth owner of the Ottoman-American Development Company. The company was a private U.S. corporation that, with the approval of the U.S. Congress, sought to develop ties with the newly-formed Turkey. The company would develop railroads and public works for Turkey in exchange for the mineral rights to the land they were building on.
This agreement would fall apart for the Ottoman-American Development Company due to the geopolitical environment of the time, a lack of funding for the project, and infighting between the company’s owners. Government officials and company leaders alike would blame Major Kenneth Clayton-Kennedy for the collapse of the concession. He created confusion about who owned the company, failed to raise money for the project, and apparently lied to both the Americans and the Turkish government – telling them that the company had begun work when it had not.
In 1922, Kenneth was suspected of being a British spy after he failed to produce a passport and lied about being an American when trying to enter Angola. Maj. Kenneth Clayton-Kennedy was released when Angolan authorities could find no evidence that Kenneth was involved in espionage. Throughout his life, Kenneth would claim both that he was and that he was not a British spy but had been set up by the Ottoman-American Development Company. The truth of the matter may never be known, but the documents relating to this scandal provide a glimpse into the fascinating life of a Stanstead man.
Par Hannah Osborne-O’Donnell, traduit par Patricia Garvey
Kenneth Edgar Kennedy est né en 1891 à Stanstead, au Québec, de parents Helen O’Leory et George R.E. Kennedy. Kenneth dit être tombé amoureux de l’aviation lorsqu’il a eu la chance de monter dans un dirigeable à la foire de Sherbrooke. Après avoir obtenu des diplômes en ingénierie et en géologie, Kennedy décide de s’engager dans la Royal Canadian Horse Artillery.
En août 1914, les membres de la milice sont mobilisés à Valcartier pour former le premier corps expéditionnaire canadien. À la fin du mois de septembre, Kennedy fait partie des premières troupes canadiennes à destination de l’Angleterre. Alors qu’il est capitaine du 3e bataillon de l’Artillerie canadienne de campagne, il est gravement blessé en mai 1915. Après s’être remis de ses blessures, Kennedy est transféré dans le Royal Flying Corps britannique. Excellent pilote, il est promu d’observateur à officier d’aviation en l’espace de six mois.
Kennedy affirmera plus tard que c’est à cette époque qu’il a commencé à demander au ministre de la Milice, le général Hughes, de créer un corps d’aviation canadien. Le général Hughes ne s’intéresse guère au développement des capacités aéronautiques canadiennes et Kennedy lui aurait dit : » Les avions sont ridicules, ils ne servent qu’à effrayer les chevaux « .
Le lieutenant-colonel Walter Morden et John Alexander Douglas McCurdy sont les principaux artisans du changement d’avis du général Hughes, mais Kennedy n’est pas étranger à leurs efforts. En août 1916, il est choisi par Morden pour effectuer une démonstration aérienne pour Hughes. Cette démonstration, ainsi que le soutien massif de l’élite commerciale du Canada, convainc le général Hughes de la nécessité d’un Corps d’aviation canadien.
En 1916, Kennedy épouse Nance Annie Clayton et prend son nom de jeune fille. Clayton est une Anglaise qui s’installera au Canada à la fin de la guerre ; entre-temps, M. Clayton-Kennedy continue de recevoir des promotions. Il est transféré à la 3e Brigade d’artillerie canadienne, promu major temporaire et se voit confier le commandement d’une unité d’artillerie aérienne. Lorsque le général Hughes annonce la formation d’un corps d’aviation, M. Clayton-Kennedy est l’un des premiers instructeurs de vol à la BFC Borden. Pendant son séjour à la BFC Borden, Clayton-Kennedy affirme avoir formé de nombreuses personnes célèbres, dont Lester B. Pearson, futur Premier ministre et lauréat du prix Nobel de la paix. Clayton-Kennedy affirme avoir tenté d’expulser Pearson de l’armée de l’air en raison d’un « manque de fibre morale ». En 1918, Clayton-Kennedy est relevé de son commandement en raison de sa mauvaise santé. Malgré la fin de sa carrière dans l’armée de l’air, Clayton-Kennedy continue de croire au potentiel des avions. En 1919, Clayton-Kennedy devient président de l’Aircraft Manufacturing Company of Canada Limited et de l’Aircraft Transport and Travel of Canada Limited. Ces deux sociétés sont chargées de construire et de fournir des avions au gouvernement de la colonie de Terre-Neuve, de transporter des marchandises et des passagers et de créer des écoles d’aviation. Malheureusement, les deux sociétés n’ont pas réussi à s’imposer.
Par Jazmine Aldrich, traduit par Patricia Garvey
Plusieurs des fonds d’archives du Centre de ressources des Cantons-de-l’Est documentent la vie de familles qui ont eu un impact sur notre histoire locale. La famille Davidson de Georgeville en est un exemple, en particulier le duo père-fils dont le travail artisanal a façonné une grande partie du paysage le long des rives du lac Memphrémagog.
James Everett Davidson est né à Brigham, au Québec, le 7 mars 1860. Il est le fils de William Davidson et de Caroline America Everett Beach. Le 1er janvier 1883, il épouse Annie Myrtella Brevoort, fille de James Gunn Brevoort et de Janet Hurst. Il a construit des bateaux, des meubles et de nombreuses résidences d’été dans la région du lac Memphrémagog. Il a notamment travaillé sur le Narrows Bridge, un pont couvert qui enjambe la baie de Fitch et qui a été construit en 1881. Le pont est toujours debout aujourd’hui et a été reconnu par le gouvernement du Québec comme un site patrimonial protégé en vertu de la Loi sur le patrimoine culturel en 2019.
Le fils de James Everett Davidson, James Arlington Davidson, est né à Georgeville le 17 octobre 1891. « Arlie, comme on l’appelait familièrement, a épousé Margaret Hazel Merrill et a eu deux filles, Jean et Janet. Il vécut presque toute sa vie à Georgeville, où il travailla avec son père en tant qu’entrepreneur et constructeur.
J.E. Davidson & Son construit des maisons, des chalets, des cabanes en rondins et des hangars à bateaux, surtout autour du lac Memphrémagog. En 1931, ils sont chargés de travailler sur l’église anglicane et la salle paroissiale de Fitch Bay et, en 1934, ils travaillent sur l’église anglicane St. George’s à Georgeville.
Une grande partie des archives de la famille Davidson est constituée de livres de comptes dans lesquels ils consignent des notes détaillées sur les travaux qu’ils effectuent (le nombre de jours travaillés, ce sur quoi ils travaillent chaque jour, etc.) Grâce à ces livres, nous connaissons des détails précis comme le tarif demandé pour une journée de travail (2,25 dollars par jour et par personne en 1914, ce qui équivaudrait à environ 58,95 dollars en 2023).
La famille Davidson a également laissé son empreinte sur la communauté de Georgeville en dehors de son entreprise. Les noms du père et du fils apparaissent sur une pétition adressée en 1930 à la Southern Canada Power Company, parmi une liste de dix résidents de Georgeville s’engageant à verser quatre cents dollars » pour l’installation d’une ligne électrique et d’un système de distribution pour l’éclairage du village et pour permettre à ses résidents d’avoir accès au service électrique « .
Après le décès de son père le 25 août 1933, Arlie poursuit l’entreprise familiale. En 1950, il est membre du Comité paritaire des métiers du bâtiment du district des Cantons de l’Est, qualifié comme compagnon dans les fonctions de charpentier-menuisier et de peintre-papetier.
Arlie a pris sa retraite en 1955, mais il a passé les vingt années suivantes à réparer et à fabriquer des reproductions de meubles anciens. En 1977, il rédige une brochure intitulée Copp’s Ferry, Georgeville, 1797-1977. Cette brochure contient des informations sur la colonisation de Georgeville, les transports, les logements, les écoles, les églises, les cimetières, les industries, les infrastructures et les habitants. James Arlington Davidson est décédé le 24 février 1979, à l’âge de 87 ans.
Par Joanie Tétreault, traduit par Patricia Garvey
La franc-maçonnerie, avec sa riche histoire et son symbolisme énigmatique, a longtemps captivé l’imagination de beaucoup. Dans les Cantons-de-l’Est, les francs-maçons ont laissé une marque indélébile sur la communauté, encourageant la fraternité, les activités de bienfaisance et la croissance personnelle. Dans cet article, nous nous penchons sur l’aspect secret de la franc-maçonnerie dans les Cantons de l’Est et faisons la lumière sur ses traditions, ses rituels et son symbolisme ésotérique.
La franc-maçonnerie est traditionnellement connue pour sa nature confidentielle, ce qui a perpétué la perception de secret entourant l’organisation. Les francs-maçons des Cantons de l’Est, comme leurs homologues du monde entier, adhèrent à certaines pratiques qui ne sont pas divulguées publiquement. Ce voile du secret a une signification à la fois historique et symbolique, procurant aux membres un sentiment d’exclusivité et favorisant un lien de confiance entre les frères.
Les rituels et les cérémonies sont au cœur de l’aspect secret de la franc-maçonnerie. Ces rituels, imprégnés de symbolisme et de tradition, sont exécutés dans l’enceinte de la loge et restent privés pour les francs-maçons. Les initiations, les degrés et la transmission de connaissances par le biais d’enseignements allégoriques font partie intégrante de ces rituels. Le secret qui entoure ces pratiques ajoute à l’attrait et à la mystique de la franc-maçonnerie.
Une autre facette de la franc-maçonnerie qui contribue à sa réputation secrète est son utilisation intensive du symbolisme. Les loges maçonniques des Cantons de l’Est, ornées de symboles et d’emblèmes complexes, sont les dépositaires d’un savoir caché et d’une signification profonde. De l’équerre et du compas à l’œil qui voit tout, ces symboles transmettent des leçons morales et spirituelles aux membres, invitant à l’interprétation et à la réflexion personnelles.
Le secret qui entoure le symbolisme et les enseignements ésotériques de la franc-maçonnerie ajoute à sa mystique, cultivant un environnement d’exploration intellectuelle et d’illumination personnelle au sein de la fraternité.
Bien que la franc-maçonnerie embrasse un certain niveau de secret, il est essentiel de reconnaître qu’elle n’est pas enveloppée d’activités clandestines ou d’agendas cachés ; au contraire, les aspects secrets de la franc-maçonnerie servent à préserver les traditions, les valeurs et les rituels qui ont été transmis de génération en génération.
L’exclusivité de la loge maçonnique offre aux membres un espace sûr pour le développement personnel, l’autoréflexion et l’échange d’idées. En maintenant un niveau de confidentialité, la franc-maçonnerie cherche à créer un environnement de confiance et de respect mutuel entre ses membres, favorisant un sentiment de fraternité et de camaraderie.
Bien que la franc-maçonnerie puisse comporter des éléments secrets, il est essentiel de reconnaître l’impact significatif de l’organisation sur la communauté des Cantons-de-l’Est. Les francs-maçons s’engagent activement dans des initiatives caritatives, soutiennent des projets locaux et contribuent au bien-être de la société. Leurs efforts philanthropiques s’étendent au-delà des murs de la loge, faisant une différence tangible et positive dans la vie des individus et de la communauté dans son ensemble.
L’engagement de la franc-maçonnerie envers la fraternité, la croissance personnelle et la philanthropie est évident dans leurs contributions à la communauté des Cantons-de-l’Est. Bien que l’attrait du secret ajoute à l’intrigue entourant la franc-maçonnerie, ce sont les principes de charité, d’intégrité et de fraternité qui définissent véritablement les francs-maçons des Cantons-de-l’Est. Alors que l’héritage de la franc-maçonnerie continue d’évoluer et de s’adapter aux temps modernes, il est essentiel d’apprécier à la fois les aspects secrets et charitables.
Plongez dans l’univers de cette fraternité estimée, en vous concentrant sur leurs vêtements distinctifs et le symbolisme de leur loge sacrée, lors de l’exposition « Dévoiler le mystère » : Explorer l’aspect secret de la franc-maçonnerie ». Vous pouvez visiter cette exposition en semaine dans la vieille bibliothèque historique de McGreer Hall, nichée sur le campus pittoresque de l’Université Bishop’s.
By Jazmine Aldrich
One of the great pleasures of archives is diving into the past and discovering new perspectives. I recently stumbled upon James ‘Jim’ Wark’s journal which was written to his family in Sherbrooke as he travelled from Quebec to England on his way to the European front during the First World War.
James Howard Wark was born in Sherbrooke on August 1st, 1897 to John G. Wark (1855-1925) and Catherine Fraser (1857-1938). As a young man, Jim, as he was known colloquially, served for a brief period with the Canadian Expeditionary Force during WWI. He enlisted with 1st Depot Battalion, 1st Quebec Regiment in May 1918 at an enlistment office in Montreal and was quickly on his way to England, arriving in mid-July.
His journal begins on Wednesday, June 26, 1918: Jim describes waking up at 4:00 AM, forming up at the parade grounds, traveling by train to the ship they would travel on, and setting sail. What becomes clear through Jim’s journal entries is that he was optimistic and earnest in the face of the unknown awaiting him at the end of his Atlantic crossing. Of their first evening aboard the sea vessel, Jim writes that “After supper we went on deck and watched the sun-set. It was beautiful. We could see a great many porpoises coming to the surface.”
Despite his grim destination, Jim’s journal entries reflect the thoughts of a 20-year-old man experiencing his first overseas trip. He describes the journey as being “most interesting. It wakes you up to the fact of how little you do know and how much there is to be learned.”
The fun didn’t stop when the military vessel anchored in Halifax harbour to await others destined for their convoy. On July 2nd, 1918, Jim reports that “About 20 nurses came on here this A.M. too. Some real nice ones among them. We had lots of fun with a bunch who were at the wharf to see the others off. One of them gave my side-kick a doll and he is carrying it all around with him now. You should see the men look at him.”
Interspersed with his comments about the fine weather, delicious food, and diverting entertainment are references to the stark reality that drew closer with each passing day. The contrast in his two realities is most evident in this entry from July 10th, 1918:
“This has been the finest and best day we have had on the water yet. The sea was just as smooth and calm as the St. Francis on a fine day, not a ripple on it only an easy swell which gave the old boat a nice see-saw motion. We saw hundreds of porpoises today swimming right in among the boats. I guess we are getting into the danger zone now because the cruiser is going back and forth across our front on the lookout for danger signs. I heard this morning that we are only about [censored] miles from England. Tomorrow they expect to meet the convoy which is to escort us in. This afternoon they sighted a whale but I missed it.”
Another reminder of Jim’s wartime reality are the passages struck out with a black marker, indicating censorship of sensitive military information. References to the ship’s relative location and speed are censored. Postal censorship was common practice during the First World War to avoid enemy interception.
As their vessel inched closer to England, they took greater precautions to avoid detection by enemy ships: “They put us off the deck now at 7:30 sea-time, that would be about 5 at home. After that there are no lights showing anywhere on deck. The penalty for showing any light after dark on the war zone is death.”
Though the threat of death lay over his head, the tone of Jim’s entries remained cheery until the end of his journey; on July 12th, 1918, he vowed that “If I ever get the chance I will take this trip again in peace time on a big boat, it is certainly great, something one will never forget.” Jim’s journal entries end when he arrives in England on Monday, July 14th, 1918; fortunately, his story did not end there.
Upon arrival in England, Jim was placed in a segregated camp for CEF recruits as part of a quarantine set up in response to the Spanish flu. This quarantine lasted 28 days and, along with other precautions taken in response to influenza, drastically lengthened the training period for Canadian recruits. As a result, he would complete his training as the war was drawing to an end and would not reach continental Europe during his time overseas. Jim was discharged from his duties in Montreal, demobilization being given as the reason for his discharge. He lived to be 72 years old; he married Florence Bryant (1901-1993), of the J.H. Bryant bottling company family and together, they had two daughters: Catherine (1929-2009) and Barbara (b. 1930).
Jim’s journal is digitized and available online. If you are interested in reading this fascinating tale, please visit the Eastern Townships Archives Portal: https://townshipsarchives.ca/jim-wark-wwi-journal.
Par Jazmine Aldrich, traduit par Patricia Garvey
Les archives du Centre de ressources des Cantons-de-l’Est (CRCE) comprennent plusieurs livres d’autographes. Il s’agit généralement de petits livres reliés contenant des signatures, des poèmes, des proverbes, des gribouillis et d’autres entrées uniques. Ces livres sont également appelés albums d’autographes, albums de souvenirs et albums d’amitié. À première vue, ce type de document peut sembler n’avoir qu’une faible valeur historique, mais il peut nous en apprendre beaucoup sur les personnes qui l’ont conservé et sur leurs relations sociales.
Les livres d’autographes remontent à la tradition européenne du XVIe siècle de l’album amicorum (« album d’amitié »). Ces albums étaient couramment conservés par les étudiants pour se souvenir de leurs camarades de classe, de leurs professeurs et d’autres contacts sociaux. Les albums conservaient les messages légers ou sincères des relations sociales. Dans un monde bien antérieur à l’Internet et aux médias sociaux, les livres d’autographes constituaient un moyen de documenter le réseau d’une personne. Pour certains, ces livres ont pu également servir de symbole de statut social – un vaste réseau, soigneusement gardé dans leur poche.
Les entrées typiques de ces carnets comprennent les signatures de contacts dont les individus ont estimé qu’ils méritaient d’être commémorés. Les inscriptions sont souvent accompagnées d’un sentiment du type « souviens-toi de moi », « pense à moi » ou « ne m’oublie pas ». Ces notes sont souvent accompagnées d’une date et d’un lieu géographique qui permettent de situer une relation sociale dans son contexte historique. Elles peuvent nous aider à savoir non seulement qui vivait ou fréquentait une région donnée à une époque donnée, mais aussi avec qui ils étaient en relation. Ces livres nous donnent un aperçu de la vie sociale de leurs détenteurs.
Les livres d’autographes contiennent aussi souvent des poèmes, des proverbes, des vers, des citations et de brèves bribes d’écriture qui témoignent de la culture de l’époque à laquelle ils ont été rédigés. Les livres d’autographes peuvent répondre à des questions telles que : à quoi ressemblait l’humour des adolescents dans les années 1920 ? Le livre d’autographes de Florence Mead propose les entrées suivantes comme réponses potentielles.
« Oubliez-vous ? Non ! Je n’ai jamais pu. Tant que je peux siffler. Je pourrais tout aussi bien oublier de crier quand je m’assois sur un chardon. » (non signé)
« L’absence rend le cœur plus tendre. L’eau oxygénée rend les blonds plus blonds. L’oignon rend l’haleine plus forte. L’amitié allonge la vie ». -Annie Parkhill, Boynton, Québec
Le livre date des études de Florence à l’école normale du Collège Macdonald, avec des entrées de ses camarades de classe, de ses colocataires et de ses amis.
Les entrées du carnet d’autographes comprennent parfois des références à la culture pop, des paroles de chansons, des références à des blagues et des souvenirs communs. Elles peuvent également inclure des œuvres d’art, allant de simples gribouillis à des dessins complexes qui témoignent des capacités de l’artiste. Certains auteurs joignent même des fleurs pressées ou des mèches de cheveux à leurs inscriptions.
La popularité du livre autographe a varié au cours des siècles, mais une résurgence notable a eu lieu à la fin du XIXe et au début du XXe siècle. La pratique est devenue si populaire que des publications telles que The Album Writer’s Friend (New York, 1881) de J.S. Ogilvie recommandaient des « sélections de poésie et de prose adaptées à l’écriture dans des albums d’autographes ». Bien que ces albums aient été particulièrement populaires auprès des filles et des jeunes femmes, la pratique n’était pas sexiste et certains des exemples du CRCE appartenaient à des hommes – y compris celui du célèbre artiste des Cantons de l’Est, Frederick Simpson Coburn.
La tradition de l’album d’autographes se perpétue dans la signature des annuaires – une pratique qui reste populaire auprès des étudiants aujourd’hui. Vous avez un album d’autographes ou un album de fin d’année que vous aimeriez donner au CRCE ? Prenez contact avec nous !