The Complete Works of L M Montgomery, page 786
“In the drawing-room, after dinner, these three gentlemen made straight for the fireplace and stood in front of it, as close as it was possible to stand. My mother, who was sitting a little back from the fire, in the frigid temperature of a Scottish room, smiled and said, ‘Behold the three advocates of cold houses!”’
The courageous spirit of the pioneers was hers. Once when she and the family were summering on the lower St. Lawrence, as was their yearly custom, she had occasion to return to Montreal. When she entered the house, which had been shut up while they were away, she found that thieves had broken in during their absence. As no one knew she was at home there was a chance that the burglars might make a second visit, but Mrs. Murray was not intimidated by this possibility. She retired to rest and calmly slept, untroubled by the thought of danger. In all likelihood, if the rascals had come that night, she would have fearlessly put them to rout in no uncertain manner.
In 1871 Professor Murray left Kingston for Montreal as he had been transferred to McGill University. Here he and Mrs. Murray kept open house for the students who, every Saturday afternoon, used to meet at their home, which they regarded almost as their own. In many ways they showed their appreciation of Professor and Mrs. Murray’s hospitality.
One evening, after theatre night, a group of students, as was their custom, paraded the streets of Montreal. When they reached the home of the Murrays they halted and gave cheer after cheer until Professor Murray and his wife finally dressed and came down to acknowledge in person this tribute to their many kindnesses.
Margaret Murray was warm-hearted. On her first Christmas Eve in Canada a dressing-case, containing her jewels and other articles she prized, among them keepsakes from former school friends, was stolen from the bedroom where it was kept. The thief, a friend of one of the servants, was convicted and sent to prison. Sometime afterwards, Mrs. Murray learned that it was the man’s first offense so she kept in touch with the officials in authority and, finding that his conduct was excellent, she exerted herself on his behalf and had the term of imprisonment shortened.
She tried in every way she could to mitigate the toils and hardships of those who struggled for their daily bread. To relieve the monotony for some of these she arranged for a series of entertainments on Saturday afternoons when, for the nominal admission of ten cents, people could listen to programs that were both instructive, interesting and also recreative.
Mrs. Murray was interested in the Young Women’s Christian Association and gave freely of her time and services in this cause. When her lifelong friend, Mrs. John McDougall, became president of the first branch of the Y.W.C.A. in Montreal, Mrs. Murray was made honorary secretary.
Among the many gifts her fairy godmother bestowed upon Margaret Murray was the power to express herself clearly and accurately. Probably, if she had devoted herself exclusively to the art of literature, she would have ranked high. But the demands on her time in connection with the numerous organizations to which she was indispensable, left little leisure for her pen. The Nineteenth Century and the Contemporary Review were magazines that frequently published articles she had written.
CHAPTER XX. SERVICE FOR OTHERS: LADY TILLEY
LADY TILLEY (Alice Starr Chipman) had an inspiration. Why not dedicate The Cedars, the home of her childhood, to the cause of suffering humanity? Her father, Zachariah Chipman, a prominent shipowner and merchant of St. Stephen, N. B., and her mother were both dead. The children were scattered and there was none of the family now to live in the old homestead.
She wrote her brother and two sisters, who were co-heirs in the property, outlining the plan she had devised and asking if they were willing to give up their share in the estate for this worthy cause. To this they all cheerfully agreed.
There had not been sufficient facilities in St. Stephen to care for the sick. Those who were ill had to go away for hospital treatment. This state of affairs had long troubled Lady Tilley. She felt that adequate medical care ought to be obtained closer at hand, and what more fitting memorial to her parents’ memory could there be than a hospital in the home where they had lived long, useful lives. So The Cedars was presented to the county and henceforth was known as the Chipman Memorial Hospital.
Donating the house and the grounds surrounding it was, however, but the beginning of the enterprise. There remained a great deal more to be done before the institution could be properly outfitted and rendered self-supporting. Lady Tilley entered whole-heartedly into the project, interesting others in its success, and in 1902 the hospital, equipped with twenty beds, was ready to take in patients. Annual grants from the county and the endowment of beds from various sources helped with the upkeep and maintenance.
It was a great boon to the people of the district who were enabled to receive proper medical attention right at home. One family, who lived eighteen or twenty miles from St. Stephen, had occasion to bless the kind thought that had prompted the founding of the institution. When the daughter of the household was taken seriously ill an immediate operation was imperative. To go away would entail considerable hardship but with this hospital nearby she was given the treatment she required and her life was spared. The mother, speaking afterwards, said gratefully:
“The Chipman Hospital has meant a great deal to us.”
As the number of patients increased new wings were added to the building. The first one was erected in memory of one of Lady Tilley’s sisters, by the latter’s husband, Mr. Owen Jones. Legacies and gifts furthered the expansion of the building until thirty years later it housed seventy-seven beds.
Adjoining the Chipman property was the home of Mr and Mrs. Robinson and after their death this was donated as a nurses’ residence and was called the Robinson Memorial Home for Nurses. Through the generosity of a citizen of St. Stephen the two buildings were connected by a subway.
Alice Starr Chipman married Hon. S. L. Tilley in 1867, the year the Confederation of the Provinces was completed. It was her husband who suggested the name Dominion of Canada instead of Kingdom of Canada to the Provincial delegates drafting the British North America Act. The idea had come to him from the eighth verse of the seventy-second Psalm, “He shall have dominion also from sea to sea, and from the river unto the ends of the earth.”
Hon. Mr. Tilley was made a member of the first Dominion Government under Sir John A. MacDonald in 1867, and was appointed Minister of Customs. In 1873 he was delegated to the office of Lieutenant-Governor of New Brunswick, and in 1879 Queen Victoria honoured him with a Knighthood.
Lady Tilley as mistress of Government House at Fredericton, led an extremely busy life but she found time to promote the welfare and happiness of those in less favoured classes of society. She constantly used her influence to help the needy and downtrodden and was always to the fore in any deserving cause. Her exceptional executive ability stood her in good stead when assisting in the guidance and direction of the numerous organizations in which she was active. The Victoria Cottage Hospital at Fredericton and the Nurses’ Home at St. John owe their inception to her untiring efforts; likewise, the Seamen’s Mission of the Port of Saint John.
She gave an impetus to the Boys’ Industrial Home in order that troublesome children who otherwise might turn out to be undesirable citizens or criminals would have a chance to be educated under kind, yet strict, discipline.
“She secured from the Department of Justice the use of the vacant penitentiary buildings and outbuildings at East Saint John which were then reconstructed and made available for fifty boys. She took an active interest in the management of this institution up to the time of her death and was one of the two women directors on the Board.”
Wherever she came across distress and want she did what she could to relieve it.
The National Council of Women, in which, ever since its organization, she took a leading part, has received unstintedly of her energetic labour. The Red Cross movement was dear to her heart and in the New Brunswick branch she was a tireless worker, rendering valuable aid to the Local and Provincial Committees during the war. In recognition of her work in the Red Cross she was granted the Order of Lady of Grace of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem.
While living in Government House Sir Leonard and Lady Tilley were noted for their hospitality. During their term of office no intoxicating liquors were served in their home. In those days temperance sentiment was not as strong as it was later on and many who were entertained by the Lieutenant-Governor and his wife were accustomed to the use of wines.
The sterling integrity of Sir Leonard Tilley’s character was well known and his views on this subject respected but, lest there should be any lack of complete enjoyment, Lady Tilley sought to make the dinners particularly attractive in other ways. She herself superintended the table decorations and her natural artistic taste had vent in the color schemes she evolved from the wealth of bloom in the conservatories. Once it would be a dream of beauty in vivid scarlet and crystal; again a touch of fairyland given by an arrangement of roses set amid delicate green. Before long the absence of intoxicants was forgotten and the dinners at Government House, during their regime, pronounced most delightful.
During all Sir Leonard’s political and official life Lady Tilley was her husband’s confidential adviser and helpmate.
Lady Tilley was very distinguished in appearance and well fitted to preside over Government social functions. A neighbour of hers, then a small child, made this comment:
“I remember that I thought her very beautiful, especially so when she came down the long stairs in the purple dress with a long train. I went home and asked my mother if I could not have a dress like that when I was grown up.”
In 1883, Sir Leonard and Lady Tilley, accompanied by their two young sons, visited England. Sir Leonard’s health was impaired and he had gone to consult with an eminent physician in London.
During their visit to the Old Country, part of the time was spent on the Isle of Wight. The Hotel where they were staying was not far from Osborne House, the summer home of Queen Victoria. While Lady Tilley and her family were out walking one afternoon on one of the village streets, Princess Louise, wife of Lord Lorne, former Governor of Canada, drove past, recognized Sir Leonard and Lady Tilley, had her carriage stopped and beckoned to them to approach. After a short, interesting conversation, the Princess drove off. That afternoon, as Lady Tilley was sitting at the window of the Hotel, a servant in the Queen’s livery drove up. The man was the bearer of a note from Her Majesty’s secretary, commanding Sir Leonard and Lady Tilley’s presence at a private audience with the Queen the following day.
“The interview, when it took place,” said one of the Tilley family, “was in the garden at Osborne House where the Queen was being wheeled in a chair, attended by one of her picturesque Indian servants.
“After a short chat, during which the Queen made some kind enquiries as to Sir Leonard’s health, and matters of Canadian interest, instructions were given to one of her Ladies-in-Waiting to conduct them to the house and show them the Queen’s private apartments.”
Alice Starr Tilley was clever with her brush and painted in oils; she also did a number of miniatures.
There were no wasted moments in her life; she felt that every hour should be turned to good account and had no patience with idleness or indolence. Her ideal of a perfect and full life was one devoted to service for others. The many institutions in which she was interested and the people whom she had helped bear witness to her following out this ideal in her own life. With keen vision she noted the defects and weaknesses in “our appliances for relieving human misery and set to work, with a zeal that could not be dampened, to seek to remedy them.” She did not ask anything for herself but was content to know she had bettered the conditions of her fellow-men and women, believing with Emerson that “the reward of a thing well done is to havë done it.”
Her last days were spent in Carleton House, Saint John, the house which she and Sir Leonard built and to which they moved in 1889, In this residence Sir Leonard completed his second term as Lieutenant-Governor of the Province of New Brunswick. After Sir Leonard’s demise, Lady Tilley dwelt in Carleton House up to the time of her death in 1921.
CHAPTER XXI. CHAMPION OF DUMB ANIMALS: MARSHALL SAUNDERS
SEVERAL years ago a Canadian girl who was traveling in Turkey, took ill with fever and was obliged to go to the hospital at Constantinople. While there, she made friends with a Turkish lady of culture and breeding whose cot adjoined her own. As the lady could speak English the two were able to converse together.
One day the Turkish lady was reading a book, printed in her native language. She remarked to the Canadian:
“This is a splendid story. It is about a dog called Beautiful Joe.”
Her companion immediately became interested.
“Is that the name of the book?” she queried.
“Yes.”
“Who is the author?”
Turning to the fly leaf, the woman replied: “Marshall Saunders.”
It was like meeting a friend from home, thought the Canadian girl, when she heard the familiar name. Here, in this far-away country, was the story she had read and re-read as a child in Canada, The autobiography of Beautiful Joe, a dog whose outward appearance belied his name, was written by Marshall Saunders after a visit to a friend in Meaford, Ontario. While in that town she became acquainted with Beautiful Joe and admired him for the many lovable and sterling qualities he possessed.
When she returned home she wrote a book in which the dog tells his own story. The characters of the people in the book were patterned from members of her own household, her father, mother and sister. The pets she described were ones she knew intimately, those belonging to herself and her friends.
About that time the American Humane Society offered a prize for the best story dealing with the wrongs of animals. Marshall Saunders submitted her book, Beautiful Joe, and received the award. It was published in 1894 by the Judson Press, Philadelphia, Pa., and its popularity has steadily increased throughout the years.
Beautiful Joe has sold over a million copies and has been translated into Japanese, Chinese, Czech, Swedish, German, French, Turkish, Bulgarian, Spanish, Braille, Esperanto, and one of the dialect languages of India.
Once when Miss Saunders was staying in New Rochelle, N. Y., she went to hear a preacher called Billy Sunday. On her way back she missed the elevated train and by mistake arrived at Bronx Park at twelve o’clock at night. She hurried down the street to the 180th subway and, when climbing the steps to wait for the New Rochelle train, her attention was caught by the pitiful sight of a dog who crouched by one of the doors.
“A lost dog,” she exclaimed.
She ran down to ask the man at the turnstile if he would take care of the animal until its owner would come for it. The man refused. Miss Saunders then inquired if there was not somebody who would look after the poor creature, but he curtly replied:
“No, there is no one.”
Marshall Saunders felt there was only one thing for her to do and that was to take the poor forlorn waif home with her. She begged a piece of string and went back to the terrified dog. Using her handkerchief for a collar, she tied the cord to it and encouraged the trembling creature to follow her.
The kindly conductor allowed her four-footed companion to accompany her and the woman, who kept the hotel where Miss Saunders was living, permitted the dog to remain there.
Billy Sunday was the name Miss Saunders chose for her rescued pet and as such she was registered in the city of New Rochelle, New York state. Billy Sunday adored her new mistress and was never so happy as when with her. She traveled everywhere with Miss Saunders and when she died was buried in the garden of the latter’s home in Toronto. There, in the center of the lawn, is the grave over which is erected a bird bath, wreathed in forget-me-nots, as a monument to the memory of the faithful dog.
The adventures of Billy Sunday are narrated in full in Marshall Saunders’ book, Golden Dicky, the story of a canary and his friends.
Margaret Marshall Saunders was born at Milton, Nova Scotia, on the thirteenth of April, 1861. Both her father and mother were descended from the Mayflower pilgrims. In 1761 Timothy Saunders, her great-great grandfather, left Salem, New Hampshire, to settle in Nova Scotia.
The first six years of her life was spent in the beautiful Annapolis Valley where her father, Rev. Dr. Saunders, had charge of a Baptist church. It was a disappointment to the beauty-loving child when they moved to Halifax. Speaking of the change she says:
“Never shall I forget my dismay when I sat on the steps of the city house with my brothers and little sister by my side, surveying the rows of houses opposite us. Gone were the gardens and lawns of the country. However, with the adaptability of childhood, we accommodated ourselves to changed conditions and as soon as school was over, scampered to the fields and woods beyond the houses.”
Her parents supervised her early education, bringing her up on a diet liberally supplied from the classics. At the tender age of eight she began the study of Latin. She still has the old dog-eared Latin grammar, with the childish resolve written on the last page, “i’ll try agen.” This, she says, brings to her mind precious memories of her father’s study where she used to sit on a stool in the corner and look alternately at her book and her father, “the tall, black-haired young man who wrote at his desk so diligently, when he might be out in his garden or up on the fascinating farm he owned at the other end of the village.”
When she was fifteen Marshall crossed the ocean to attend a boarding school in Edinburgh. The life there she describes in her book, Esther de Warren.
The next year was spent in France, in the quaint old city of New Orleans, the birthplace of Joan of Arc. On her return to Canada she taught school for several years. However, the teaching profession did not appeal to her so much as did the field of literature, and in this she was encouraged by her father’s friend, Dr. Rand, Chancellor of McMaster University. When asked what career he would suggest for her, he said: “Why not try writing stories?”
