The Archibalds are listed among the first settlers of New Brunswick's Restigouche County, which borders Quebec. Our ancestor Patrick and his wife Bridget came out from Ireland, with their infant children Michael and Mary, in 1830.
Michael Archibald obtained the family plot after his widowed mother, Bridget, died in 1867.
My great grandfather James Archibald was born the year before Michael inherited the farm and would have been about 37 when his father died.
JAMES & JENNY IN FLATLANDS
My great grandmother Jenny Archibald had been materially comfortable back in Flatlands, New Brunswick. She had a large house with 11 rooms, a good buggy for the summer and sled for the winter months. Her husband James employed 7 to 10 men in his sawmill. Jenny’s father, Alexander Ryan, supplied many of the logs. When she wasn't feeding the men, Jenny was looking after her ten children or managing the family's general store. She also made all her children's clothes and fancy silk bonnets.
The hobos passing through Flatlands had long known Jenny to be an easy mark, but one encountered more trouble than he had expected. He was annoyed by the fact she fed him table scraps: "Is this all you've got to eat!" Jenny didn’t reply, but opened the door for her Great Dane to come in. The tramp abruptly decided it was time to leave.
A drunken logger made a similar discovery of my great grandmother’s iron will. Spying Jenny up in the hayloft, he said he was coming up to get her. "Oh no you're not", she replied. "Yes I am", the drunk teased. Jenny suddenly brandished a Peeve and promised "One more step and you're going to get this through your head!"
Jenny’s daughters have other memories of Flatlands. The children usually got a stocking filled with fruit and candy, and a present, for Christmas. One year Ora Jane opened her present to find out that she was getting a much smaller doll than her older sister Nina. She fought hard to control her tears, but her mother saw the disappointment. The next morning Jenny drove to Campbellton and purchased a big doll for Ora too. As they grew older, (my grandmother) Nina grew to love skating on the frozen surface of the Restigouche River. By the age of 9, she had become the pianist for the Presbyterian Church on Sunday mornings and the Baptists in the evenings. Ora Jane helped teach some of the younger children in the two-room schoolhouse that all the older Archibald children attended.
Lindsay was the mischievous one of the bunch. One day while James was napping, little Lindsay stuffed a dozen match heads into his pipe. James woke up and lit his pipe – then started screaming as the flames seared his nose! "Any of the rest of us would have really got it about then", Ora says. “But James never did punish Lindsay.”
Their grandmother Jane (nee Cheaters) Archibald “was a sweet old lady who lived in a little shack at the top of the hill. She was very attractive, covered her hair with a bonnet, and used to smoke a pipe, which she kept in one pocket of her long flowing dress. Grandma used to bake cookies for us, and always took time to visit with children.” James’ younger brother, Charles, lived with her. Ora Jane affectionately remembered him for the many hours he pushed her swing and the purple material he once bought her for a dress.
On Sunday afternoons, the family used to go across the Restigouche to Jenny’s parent’s home. Both Nina and Ora Jane dreaded the ordeal. They were made to sit still, in their best clothing, while the adults talked. . Their grandmother Ellen "was a strict old lady, who believed children were to be seen and not heard", Nina once told me. Ora Jane added that, "She wouldn't let Nina play her piano!" Their grandfather Alexander Ryan’s memory is more faded.
The family’s years at Flatlands were numbered. They earned a lot of money, but her husband James drank more of it up in the neighboring port of Campbellton than the family saw. He even stole the money from Jenny’s store, so that she tried to hide it from him. Everyone at the bar was his friend until the money disappeared. Then they put him in the wagon and the horses would bring him home. Sometimes the toupee that covered his bald pate would get knocked sideways, and Jenny would be ashamed to acknowledge that she knew him. Then there were the stories of his involvement with other women.
THE TREK WEST
One day, around 1911, Jenny decided she couldn’t put up with her husband’s foolishness anymore. She packed a large basket with food, put all ten of her children onto a train with her, and set off for the West Coast. She was then 42. Nina, her oldest child at 15, had managed to earn enough money from teaching piano to pay for her train ticket. Wesley, then 13, might have had money had he not been in bed the last year recuperating from burns to his hip and upper legs. He had been working in his father’s sawmill when the accident occurred. Jenny’s youngest, Patrick, was only a baby. On the advice of her bank manager – who had long ago foreseen the day she might need to leave her husband - Jenny had managed to save up $250.
They stopped at Bellingham, on the northern coast of Washington State, where Jenny’s sister Elizabeth lived. Her husband, William Archibald, was another of James’ brothers. He was a logger and may have been working in the woods when Jenny and her family arrived. Elizabeth was now used to the long separations. The first one, when he had traveled West from New Brunswick seeking work, had nearly killed her. The doctor could not find the source of the illness that wasted her strength away. A telegram from William – urging her to join him – had been the cure. The two sisters undoubtedly had a great deal of talking to catch up on, but Jenny decided she didn’t want to become an American. She had $50 left from her original stash.
VANCOUVER
Leaving her children with Elizabeth, Jenny crossed the border into British Columbia. Half of the province’s population was then living in Vancouver or one of its’ suburbs. She found employment at the city’s Crystal pool, sold aprons and did every other job she could find.
She eventually moved the family into a large house at 672 Homer Street. This was in the East End, Vancouver’s original residential area. After the more affluent moved to Point Grey and working families to South Vancouver, the East End was left for the poor. Many immigrant families, including the city’s 3,000 to 4,000 Chinese, were there. Some of the larger homes were turned into boarding houses for new arrivals and seasonal workers. Jenny moved her family into the top floor and rented the downstairs rooms out.
She had no difficulty cooking for a large number of people. She threw everything – steak, chicken, canned food - into spaghetti. Her favorite meal was pot roast, because it didn’t have to be fussed over. My mother remembers her suppers usually consisting of great quantities of food, none of which was especially tasteful.
Jenny brought a number of rural New Brunswick remedies with her. She treated fevers by boiling cabbage leaves until they were supple and then wrapping them around the sufferer’s feet. Someone with a cold had red pepper ointment spread on their chest, drank a teaspoon of ginger, squeeze of lemon juice and spoonful of honey in hot water.
None of her folk medicines proved effective when her daughter Della was struck with osteomyelitis in 1913. Though rare since the advent of anti-biotic drugs, this bone infection can lead to “a long illness and serious crippling”. At the onset, the victim “perspires freely, is restless and irritable and may be nauseated and vomit. Severe pain develops as a result of the pressure by the accumulating exudate and the destruction of bone. The pain is aggravated by slight movements or jarring.” Della had to remain in the hospital for a year.
One day her eldest daughter, Nina, returned home sobbing that a man had exposed himself to her. Without another word, Jenny picked up a stick and went looking for him. I do not know which of the two is more lucky that they never met.
As the opportunities arose, Jenny found her older daughters jobs. Nina initially dusted china, and then worked for B.C. Electric. Ora Jane had worked two days at a fifteen cent store when the manager asked her name. He checked the records and then told her, “there’s no Ora Jane Archibald working here.” (Telling me the story, 80 years later, she chuckled, “I must have gone back to the wrong store.) She became a telephone operator.
James arrived at her front door, in 1912, carrying a couple of dozen eggs. Jenny took one look at him and said "Take them damned things back where you got them!" By November 1915, the couple were living at 672 Homer street. They would remain under the same roof for another 13 years.
Jenny’s inner strength, as well as sadness and a hint of mischief, stares out at me from her portrait. Her daughter Ora Jane said that Jenny “didn’t have much time for frivolity”. Yet my mother (Nina’s eldest child, Dell) added that Jenny had beautiful ankles, loved songs like “Danny Boy” and “An Irish Lullaby”, and that even in her old age would break into an Irish jig at the slightest provocation.
WORLD WAR ONE
Canada was at war by that time and the two oldest Archibald boys both enlisted.
Lindsy was the first to sign up. Jenny intervened, informing the recruiting officers the boy was only 15, but she couldn’t always watch him. On November 9th 1915, Linday tried again. His recruitment papers state he is 18. The following April he made the eight day crossing to England. He remained in training for two months before being posted with the 29th (Vancouver) battalion in France.
The day after his arrival in France, Lindsy's unit won the Second Division's tug of war competition. While it is not known if he participated, this coincides with Lindsy receiving a $4.00 fine for a rip his great coat.
He fought during the battle of the Somme, when Field Marshall Douglas Haig sent a million men forward to try and break through the German lines. The 29th was kept in reserve, while the rest of the brigade was bogged down by German fire on September 15, 1916. (All but one of the 7 tanks that took part in this attack either broke down or was destroyed by artillery fire.) Lindsy's battalion led the assault that went forward on September 26 and, after two days of intense fighting, gained their objective. This was not enough to defeat the enemy, but the Canadian Corp's gains were impressive when compared to the rest of the British army's. They were used as shock troops for the rest of the war.
His older brother, Wesley, signed up three weeks later, but served the first 10 months in Canada. He remained in England for another half year, obtaining a quick promotion to sergeant in the signal corps because of his “good military character.”
When he finally reached the front, it was as a replacement for the 7th (British Columbia) battalion. This was one the first Canadian units in France and some of the veterans did not appreciate having a green sergeant hoisted on them. Wesley was immediately demoted to private, only to have his stripes restored within hours.
VIMY RIDGE
Both Archibald brothers fought at Vimy Ridge.
Thirty thousand Canadians from all four Divisions rose from their trenches. A pilot, watching the advance from above, wrote: “The men seemed to wander across no-man’s-land and into the enemy trenches as if the battle was a great bore to them...To me it seemed that they must wake up and run; that they were altogether too slow; that they could not realize the great danger they were in...I could not get it out of my head that it was just a game they were playing at.”
Wesley was close to the extreme right of the advancing line. He was at the first enemy line less than thirty seconds after the artillery barrage moved on to the next objective. He and his mates had been trained to drop a few mills bombs in enemy dugouts, and move on. Machine guns were tackled differently: some men engaged the enemy frontally while others crept around to attack these strongholds the flank or rear.
After half an hour the first three Canadian divisions had cleared the first line of enemy works and were racing uphill. At this point the 7th battalion passed two rabbits that had miraculously survived the shelling and were now scampering for safety. The first phase of the attack ended with the capture of the enemy Red Line. Wesley would fight no more that day
Lindsay, in the adjoining 2nd Division sector, had watched the first assault wave go forward. He would later mention his unit often passed Wesley's, as they went to and from the trenches. The 29th battalion proceeded behind a creeping barrage. Lindsay would have been among those on the slopes when the clouds parted, giving both armies a clear view of the Canadian advance. “Thus for a fleeting moment was revealed the final issue of the day: the Germans saw that the ridge was lost, the Canadians knew it was won.” They overran Thelus trench, captured the south end of Hill 135. By noon, the crest of the ridge was in Canadian hands. Then Lindsay’s unit joined the 27th (Winnipeg) in a downhill charge that cleared the Bois de la Folie, on the reverse side of the ridge, of enemy machine guns and artillery.
WESLEY'S SUBSEQUENT WAR EXPERIENCES
Wesley Archibald took part in the assault that gained that bald knob of limestone known as Hill 70. His battalion quickly captured its’ primary objective in the assault on Passchendale, but suffered such heavy casualties that they had to be relieved. (As a result of the British army's failure to advance, the Canadian Corps abandoned this position.
Passchendale was Sergeant Wesley Archibald’s last battle. Perhaps, as he struggled through the muck, he gazed upwards to the passing biplanes. He wanted to become a pilot, and both his Sergeant stripes and his having been awarded the military medal argued for his being accepted into the training program. On Dec 10 1917, he received permission to go to England. He was a Second Lieutenant, posted with the 29th Training Station, when his plane stalled on November 8th. He died three days prior to the Armistice that ended the war.
LINDSAY COMES HOME
Lindsay was wounded during the last German offensive of the war. They penetrated 40 miles, but were finally defeated by their inability to supply their forward units. As increasing numbers of soldiers turned away from the battle to seek sustenance, Ludendorff was forced to regroup. Corporal Lindsay Archibald received a “blighty” – a wound serious enough to send him across to a hospital in England - on April 9th. Shrapnel tore into his leg and shoulder during the very last day of the offensive. He was transferred form the 29th to the 1st Reserve battalion in England. He was employed training Canadian replacements for the duration of the conflict, and was eventually promoted to sergeant.
Jenny seldom mentioned Wesley's death in the years that followed, but she probably in the crowd that greeted Lindsy when he was discharged in Vancouver on February 4, 1919.
"He was different when he got back," Ora Jane told me. Aside from the fact he drank heavily, she couldn't explain why.
LIndsy also had venereal disease, which so disgusted his sister Nina that she would have nothing to do with him.
1920S & 30S
James and Jenny Archibald continued living under the same roof for a number of years after the war. A bone china cup, with the misspelled inscription "Mr & Mrs Archibled, Jan 1921," testifies to this. They were still both at 672 Homer in 1925. The next city directory lists James on Kway street and Jenny on Alberni,
Though most of the children were gone by then, Jenny continued to look after them.
Going through her oldest daughter's clothes closet one day, Jenny said, "You've got a lot of things Nina, Opal hardly has any."
Nina's husband, Jack Cross, lost some shoes that way.
Ora Jane lost two coats, after foolishly leaving them at her mother's. The dark one was given to her sister Della, but Ora never could find out who received her favourite!
Around 1936, Nina asked her mother to intervene in a family situation. Her daughter Della wanted to go to the movies with a boy who looked a lot like the movie star George Raft. Nina didn't like him, but was encountering determined opposition. So when "George" arrived to pick mom up at 7, he found Jenny waiting. She subjected him to a five hour interrogation, which continued hours after the movie ended. Jenny finally said, "I guess I'll let you see that move" - but "George" never came back.
Dell started dating Roy Hales. During his visits to the Cross home, he soon found himself under Jenny's watchful eye.
HIs sister Bettie Hales also noticed Jenny. She had never met her English relations and was attracted to the Archibald matriarch’s strength, and the warmth of her smile.
Dell was there the day Betty asked Jenny “Will you be my grandmother?”
Despite her many children and even more grandchildren, the older woman was delighted.
JENNY VISITS FLATLANDS
Jenny went back to Flatlands when her mother Ellen (McCallum) Ryan (Nov 9 1874, Flatlands N.B. - 1957) was dying.
While she was visiting the home of her sister Mary (Ryan) Downs in Flatlands, Jenny taught her granddaughter Verna Bulmer to play cards.
Jenny also returned to the Archibald family's original home, which had passed to Charles and his wife Sarah (McDavid) Archibald. Their daughter Mildred (Archibald) Rolfe wrote, "Jenny came home to visit us and her relatives in Quebec. I remember her as being a very happy person. Both Jenny and Margaret had great personality and a lot of laughter when they were together. Jenny made me a coat out of two of Margaret's old coats, I was very proud of it."
According to my grandmother Nina Ellen (Archibald) Cross and mother Dell Cross, on her deathbed Elllen told Jenny the story of our alleged descent from Queen Victoria. A sergeant McCallum of the Buckingham palace guards eloped with one of the Queen's daughters. Ellen (McCallum) Ryan was their daughter.
In reality, the McCallums came to what is now New Brunswick decades before Queen Victoria was born. Ellen's parents John McCallum (1800–1892) and Jane Robertson (1803 –1875) were both born in Tabusintac, NB, and moved to Matapedia, Quebec abt 1841.
My cousin Verna (Bulmer) Munro told me a much more plausible version of this legend, also said to have originated with Ellen (McCallum) Ryan, in which our McCallum ancestor was a footman who eloped with a merchant's daughter.
Years later I discovered that the story originated on the Miriamichi, NB, where an earlier generation of our McCallums lived. The footman actually belonged to another family and eloped with the daughter of a Scottish merchant named McCallum. (Our lot were originally Scots-Irish and believed one of their ancestors was in Londonderry when the Catholics besieged it 1688/89.)
FINAL YEARS
Jenny moved in with her daughter Vera in the 1960s. This resulted in a curious incident after someone asked Vera for a date. Though Vera was a widow and had undoubtedly gone through menopause,Jenny told her to be back before midnight! ot to stay out after midnight. When Vera returned home late, she found the door locked.
I met Jenny during one of her visits to Maple Ridge. Dell tells me she was only 5' 7," but that is considerably taller than Nina, Vera or my mother. Even though she was in her 90s, Jenny seemed immensely strong and determined.
CHILDREN OF JAMES & JENNY ARCHIBALD