______________________________________________________________________________________________

18 Aug 63 John Halifax Mother ______________________________________________________________________________________________

Halifax N.S.

August 18th 1863

My dear Mother

Brenton Collins was moving out to his Father’s house today and as we (Frances and I) are the immediate cause of his giving up his own house, Frances thought she ought to render her sister in law all the assistance in her power, so left me to my own devices for the afternoon – and the mail came in, so I investigated the manifest (my Father will tell you what that is), and there found the box, the most important in the consignment addressed to the Honble. E Collins: ‘the dress’, without which of course nothing could have gone on the 2nd.

I made an excuse to try a visit and lightened her mind on that point and then pushed off again and, seeing my name in the manifest for a box of plate, rushed off to the Customs, entered it as worth £20 – paid my 10 per cent duty as a deposit on the supposed value – a regular swindle – and then when I got my letters was indeed surprised.

What am I to say to you and my Father for all your kindness. I was really quite overwhelmed and even now cannot express my thanks to you all, but most of all to you and my Father. Living in lodgings as I am, I am quite unable to unpack and see everything or in fact anything. But before the mail goes I hope we may be able to make some arrangement by which we, (for I to [be] sure must persuade Frances to join me even now in this) may admire all the handsome things that your very very great kindness has sent us out. The other boxes are still at the wharf and tomorrow we must begin to get them up, but I doubt the possibility of really satisfying our eyes with admiring them before this mail goes.

I had no idea, when thanking my Father for his promised present, that he meant anything so handsome as that he has sent. We are, taking that as a type of all our proceedings, anything but beginners in a small way. I am all longing to unpack everything at once and were I at home or where such might be practicable, I would. But in lodgings where everything must be replaced at once and naturally everything would be broken in repacking and removing I think, even with my curiosity unsatisfied, that it will be wiser to wait.

I don’t know quite what has come over me but I have had a bad inflamed ear and throat for the last few days and although the throat is gone now, the ear is paining me almost as much as it used to in childish days. There is no reason for this just now; the weather is surely in no way answerable for it. Frances has handed me over to their family doctor and on the whole I think is rather pleased ? at my being unwell as she was anxious to get me out of the clutches of the Army surgeons and has at last succeeded. Seriously, she used to worry at my ever placing any confidence in them and is delighted that I have at last adopted her pet Doctor. I am holding on to a mustard just now, behind my ear, as it will probably reduce the pain a little. A few evenings since I went to sleep with one on my neck and kept it on for five hours, giving me rather an objectionable appearance ever since.

It is rather, in fact, altogether difficult for me to give you an idea of our household arrangements just now, because we have made no arrangements. I presume, in fact, such is the settled arrangement that I take the furniture of Mr Collins’ house off his hands. As to linen, I am going into a deep consultation with Mrs Hill on that subject. When we do take possession you shall at once have full particulars.

We propose going on the 2nd to a prettily situated country inn on the shore of what is called Grand Lake about 20 miles away. Thence, after a day or two, on to Windsor and ride or drive taking riding horses and wagons with us through the theatre of Longfellow’s ‘Evangeline’,* Grand Pré – and skirting the basin of Mines to Kentville, staying there a few days in a pretty country [inn] thence riding or driving across to the Atlantic shore to Chester and Lunenburg where I am going to superintend the Militia training. [St] Margaret’s Bay on which these places are situate is very pretty, and as I had to do Lunenburg Co. Militia, I thought I might as well make a pleasure trip of it as it saves another absence later. I must send you a map of N.S. so that you may follow our wanderings.

Frances had not seen much of her own country, so I, the stranger must do cicerone* and introduce her to it, its manners and customs. It is better than going far away, and work is got through and we get back to our home soon.

I knocked off last night feeling my ear very painful and I am sorry to say it is still now so tonight. However when I do turn in and tomorrow I propose, or rather my Dr does, reducing the inflammation with leeches but I am not going to bed for I have so much to write about.

How am I to thank you for the very handsome presents you have sent out. Frances and I spent the afternoon unpacking Hancocks and Barry’s boxes, and were more and more pleased every moment. What am I to begin with. The very elegant and handsome writing table suite – it is very very pretty and so solid looking and good. It is quite to my taste. The book stand is very handsome, and the card basket, in fact everything is so well chosen so handsome and so pretty that I don’t know where to begin and yet my admiration exhausts itself, or rather my vocabulary does, over the first things I mention.

The flower vases are very pretty, the delicate pink takes my fancy and the clock too which is quite your taste and now that china is not in my way, it no doubt will no longer be – I won’t say my aversion – but as you recollect at H.P.T. I was not over partial to the china which prevented our dancing, but with the clock to take my fancy, my feelings towards china have already changed. Dresden too.

I fear I shall not be able to write to Mrs Sawer by this mail to thank her for her very pretty ink-stand, nor to Lylie to say how we admire her candlesticks and further how much we appreciate her thoughts which led to their being sent.

As far as we have yet gone, everything has come out most successfully. The only thing broken is the ruler and Frances thinks she can mend that. The two upright wings of the little birds on the top of the clock came off but a clean break. We feared for a long time that one was lost but found it at last and Frances has taken special charge of the dislocated pieces and intends putting them into their places – and more difficult still, making them stay there.

Everything was beautifully packed and we had four long hours work getting through the two boxes, and if the state of Frances’ preparations for this day fortnight will admit, we propose going into the other box from Cattemoul* tomorrow.

I haven’t asked you to thank Mr Barry for his present but it is so well suited to the rest of the writing table suite and it would be difficult to give it higher praise. Really, my dear Mother, you have gone very far towards furnishing our drawing room (or rather Frances’, for I believe that is the lady’s room).

I shall indeed miss you and my Father on the 2nd. It does not seem that it can really be coming off and you not to be there. It is the only cloud, but Frances and I often talk of it and wish, oh so much, that it could be otherwise. She cordially reciprocates your love and much as she will feel parting even for a time from her sister, who has been (I won’t say is) everything to her and from her own family; she is very anxious to know you.

Half the pleasure of receiving the very handsome presents you have sent is lost in knowing that you cannot see them when we so much wish you could (when they are placed) in our rooms.

When I went to Mrs Hill today, I took my boxes and unpacked them there. Frances was just trying on her dress – just arrived – from the Principal dressmaker. The same as that worn by Honble. Beatrice Byng. I don’t even now know the yarn but Mrs Hill will write you all particulars, but proposes doing so after the event. The mail, as I mentioned before, leaves the day after, so you will hear within the fortnight. I was favoured with a sight – that it was as handsome as could be, you may be sure. It must be described by a more capable hand than mine. I didn’t go off into raptures at seeing Frances in it, but it did not feel the less.

What a struggle it was all the winter and spring. To think that in August I should be at the S.C.* and we should have the Atlantic between us to try and think of it, to make it if possible real to oneself, so that when the blow fell (and we had made up our minds, or tried to, that it must come) we might be able to bear it. And now today to see Frances in her wedding dress and to know that this day fortnight – God willing – she will be my own dear Wife. How I wish that you could know your daughter so soon to be.

My Father in his letter attributes the whole of the taste of the plate to you. Indeed it does you great credit, so simple and yet so handsome everything looks so massive and good. How perfect it is you have indeed thought of everything. Of course I am going to write to my Father to thank him, but I cannot refrain from expressing my admiration for his taste in which everything is. We are indeed set up – and the contributions as my Father styles them all the presents, are so suitable and useful.

Afternoon tea was an institution at Mrs Hill last year. I don’t mean to say it is so no longer, but after our rides I used to venture in for the cup of tea and so it gave us many an excuse in for a cosy chat after a long ride. All the winter too, Frances was accustomed to preside at the early tea, so that from long association we should not have been inclined to let it drop, even if we had not had the additional incentive of using your pretty present, the silver tea-service.

Frances is, I am sure, going to write to my Father by this mail but I too must thank him for the excessively handsome necklace & brooch that he has so kindly sent her. I know turquoises are my Father’s favourite stone and the effect of the whole is very pleasing. I am quite sure of one thing – that had Frances and I thought till now, we should not have been likely to name our desires as well as you have hit them off, and nothing that we could have wished for could in any way have been more suitable.

My head is paining me so that I must lie down and my letter to my Father not written. What shall I do. I have the whole detail of mustering a county for drill some 6,000 men to make out tomorrow, and a single blunder would consign me to anything but oblivion.

Mrs Hill has kindly undertaken the getting the house linen &c. for I am sure I should have puzzled over that for a long time. I haven’t had time to unpack Cattermoul’s box to see the rest of your presents and others but please thank the donors of them all.

I am bleeding so I must stop. Don’t be alarmed but it is a nuisance. It is only leech bites and I have to go out presently. Goodbye, my dear Mother. My love to you, Helen and all. I cannot thank you sufficiently for all your love has suggested and your energy carried out for our benefit.

Ever, your affectionate Son

J Wimburn Laurie

* ‘Evangeline’ – Evangeline tells the story of the expulsion of French settlers by the British in Nova Scotia, through the eyes of a French Acadian woman, Evangeline, an orphan of seventeen, who is separated from her love by the deportation. Evangeline is based on the life of Emmeline Labiche, who was in fact deported to Maryland about 1760. Although Longfellow embellished Emmeline's story, the poem has come to represent for many people the truth of the episode

* cicerone – Guide who shows and explains antiquities and curiosities of a place

* Cattermoul – William Michael Cattermoul, Importer & Foreign Goods Agent, 236, Oxford Street

* S.C. – Staff College