This blogging gibberish kin nae happen without th’ lass’s help so what was she thinking t’ set me aside for so lang? I ken she’s been fair busy n’ distracted the past months, between th’ hot summer weather an’ all that chaos of digging up the front yard ‘t pull out an auld oil drum an’ replanting th’ entire garden. Then th’ excitement of finally getting to see th’ new place they’re still waiting t’ be finished. But leaving me sitting on ice like she did, a body gets cold. Not only did I miss Christmas an’ all the Hogmanay celebrations, my joints stiffened up like ne’er before. Not even a wee dram for this auld soul. I hollered so lang to get her attention I near lost my voice altogether. But here she is back again. Let’s see how lang she can keep moving.
Where did I leave off? Hmmm…
That late supper once we’d arrived in Halifax an’ got all approved t’ enter Canada perked all four of us up. ’twas but hot broth ‘n’ scones, an’ of course milk for th’ bairns ‘n’ a hot cuppa for myself, but that’s all it took. We were duin t’ go. For th’ first time since we left Perth, I felt a wee bit excited for th’ next stage of our journey west.
The weans and I joined th’ crowd of folks following th’ lighted path from the ship’s landing shed to the platform. The waitin’ train had a crewman standing outside th’ doors of two shiny reddish-brown cars cawin’ out for people to climb aboard.
’Twas a flurry of folks pulling us to th’ train but the cars looked so grand, I had to stop ‘n’ read. Above the windows in large gold letters was CANADIAN PACIFIC which didnae surprise me. ’twas th’ word COLONIST painted in th’ same gold colour below the windows along th’ side of both cars caught my eye an’ made me hold back for a moment. It nae made sense to me at th’ time an’ has stayed in my heid since, making me wonder.
This was 1911. Aye. Canada was a British colony an’ I was immigrating to Canada. I ne’er saw myself as a colonist though, movin’ to a fraish settlement in th’ wilderness. Edmonton was already a city, wasn’t it? And me, just a woman who wanted her family t’ be together.
At th’ doorway, I set down my bags ‘n’ took a quick keek at my ticket to be certain I’d get on th’ richt car before lifting Lily in. You’d think that crewman hollering over everyone’s heids cuid lend a hand.
“Colin, climb up an’ help yer sister. Be a guid lad an’ find berth number 6.” After handing Lily over to him I helped Jean onto th’ first step an’ watched her get into th’ car safe before picking up my bags an’ following.
Our berth was in th’ middle of th’ car an’ by th’ time I arrived, Colin, Jean, ‘n’ Lily had already climbed onto the seats, all three standin’ with their faces pressed to th’ window, keekin out into the nicht.
I’d ridden lots of trains back home but this one was nae like any I’d ever laid eyes on. Even with me expecting space ’d be tight, as I stood in th’ aisle assessing th’ two wooden slatted seats facing each other, our accommodation for th’ next seven days, my heart sank lower ‘n’ lower. Och – ’twas nae bigger than Mum ‘n’ Da’s wardrobe in Perth an’ nae a cushion in sight.
I keeked up ‘n’ down th’ aisle of th’ railcar to see folks busy getting their things organized. In my mynd, I was prepared but ’twas clear I had more work cut out for me than I knew. The lead in my heart grew heavier and I scolded m’self for dressing my best for our arrival in Canada when right then, I had no idea how to get my bairns settled for the nicht.
Falling apart in th’ middle of a train full of strangers was unacceptable so I took a deep breath and gave myself a guid talking to. “Agnes Rankin Campbell – this is yer own space to manage for th’ next week and wee as it is, you’ll make th’ most of it.”
“The seats slide across to meet in the middle.” A friendly male voice turned my attention to th’ berth beside us already transformed to a wooden bed where gray-haired woman was spreading out a woolen blanket. The man beside her set down the jumper he was holding. His grey beard, warm smile and crinkly blue eyes made me think of Da’. “You need to lift the seat just a wee bit to unlock the back and it’ll slide down, nice and smooth. Step aside laddie.”
As Colin came to my side, th’ man reached in an’ gave th’ seat wee tweak. Like magic it slid down an’ over to th’ middle. “Do the same with the other side and they join up to make a bed. There’s sleeping space above as well and I suppose you’ll be needing it with all four of you.”
He reached up an’ pulled on th’ overhead panel with metal chains at th’ front corners securing it to th’ wall, until it came down flat.
“And, if you roll coats and such lengthwise along the lip to keep them from falling out, the space looks just right for the wee lassies. By the way, my name is Iain MacGregor, and this is my wife, Mary.” He indicated th’ gray-haired woman now hangin’ a light blanket to divide their berth from th’ next one down. She turned an’ we bobbed heads, both.
“Och – Thank you, Iain MacGregor. I’m Agnes Campbell. My bairns and I are off t’ Edmonton, Alberta t’ catch up with my husband John. He’s been out there this bygone year or so working and finding a braw cottage for us.”
“Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Campbell. Since we’ll be in each other’s back pockets for the next while, we may as well get to know one another. Mary and I will be getting off in Calgary to catch up with our son, Thomas, and his family. They moved out there almost two years ago and we’ve not seen them since. Never met our two grand babes. One laddie and one lassie – twins they’d be.”
“Och – congratulations – I hope ye have a fine reunion.”
Settling in didnae take so long as I expected. As th’ train began to move, th’ weans played about on th’ lower berth while I made th’ top one cozy for Jean ‘n’ Lily. I had t’ be alert, watching for th’ first opening t’ take th’ girls to th’ women’s water closet ‘n’ washstand at one end of th’ car. I scooted in, got ’em cleaned up as best I cuid and hurried ’em back.
I knew I’d ne’er relax into th’ journey wearin’ my fine clothes ‘n’ corset, so once I got th’ lassies off t’ bed, I slipped back t’ th’ washing area an’ changed into my tired house dress from th’ ship. It wuid have to serve as a nicht dress for th’ rest of th’ journey. I was nae about t’ wander this paukit space full of nosey parkers in my skivvies. I decided to save th’ bonnie green dress I’d sewn o’er winter for th’ daytime. Its applique flowers I practiced making turned out so braw ‘n’ cheery, just like th’ ones in my fashion book.
Colin had taken himself to th’ men’s water closet at th’ opposite end of th’ car an’ was nodding off on th’ wooden kip when I returned.
“Wake up luv. Just for a minute or two so I can cozy up th’ bed a wee bit.”
“Okay Mummy …” His eyes barely opened an’ his body slid t’ th’ floor as I stuffed his arms into a warm jumper. He settled with his head resting against th’ wooden frame.
I knew as well as anybody how t’ make do an ’twas clear I needed t’ decide what mattered most. Sleeping in privacy or comfort. The stove at th’ end of the’ car didnae send out enough heat for my liking, so I slipped on a nice wool jumper before laying out both Colin’s and my warm coats for cushioning and covered them with a light blanket.
My shawls were of a braw size to drape from th’ bar above. One over Jane ‘n’ Lily, an’ three to wrap around to hide th’ lower berth from view. And block out some of th’ light from th’ overhead gas-lamp. That left two blankets t’ cover us both for th’ nicht. Each of us with a jumper for a pillow we’d be fine’
After seeing Colin off t’ sleep, I folded th’ light fabric in front of th’ bed half open t’ step back into th’ aisle and collect my wits. All but three empty berths in th’ entire car had some form of drapery covering them. Except for th’ few folks lingering like me, th’ occasional cough or babe’s cry, everything was wheesht an’ I let my body absorb th’ train’s rhythm until my eyelids were too heavy to keep open an’ crawled into th’ hard bed next t’ Colin.
Photos taken at Heritage Park Calgary:Colonist Car 1202 https://heritagepark.ca/exhibits/c-p-r-colonist-car-1202/
I cannae believe here I am again,settled in my favourite chair, talking to invisible folks, and seein’ my words show up on th’ wee screen in front of me. Ne’er in my life did I expect this t’ be the future. What the world would become after I was deid an’ gone.
Happy New Year!
Och, is this year truly 2024?
Welcome back, Granny. It’s good to hear your voice again.
Och – ’tis good t’ be back, Catherine. I ne’er did care t’ be silenced. Th’ nerve of th’ lass!