Chapter 65.
(Somerville) While my mother, grandmother and elder sister Dorothy were away in Bermuda in 1896, it was felt necessary to find someone to look after the remaining children and keep an eye on the housekeeping. The choice fell upon an Irish lady, Miss Hicks, who had served in a similar capacity with our Toronto friends, the Irwins. She was petite, kind, alert and possessed a repertoire of Irish ghost stories.
Miss Hicks remained with us for a year or more, but Mother found Hillcrest a White elephant. It was too big and awkwardly laid out. We left it early in 1898 and boarded with the Misses Monsell till in July we went for a month to Huntsville, Ontario, where Mother’s cousin George Wilgress was practicing law. We shared a large stone farm house with the owner, a Mr. Ware, a veteran of the Crimean War.
On our return from Huntsville, we moved into a house on Bramley Street, a block north of our grandmother’s. Mother called it Chestnut Cottage, as it faced three magnificent horse chestnut trees. The three years we spent there were the happiest of our childhood and despite the anxieties inseparable from raising a family, probably the happiest in Mother’s life. Dad had established himself as a successful bank manager and his salary had increased. For those days, in a town like Port Hope, he was considered affluent, and there were no pressing financial problems.
The house, of solid brick construction and two story’s, stood on a large “L” shaped lot with a large barn in one corner, where in summer we kept a host of rabbits and guinea pigs, which were transferred to a large earth-floored room in the cellar in winter. We had canaries, chipmunks, squirrels. Dad put up a very high swing suspended from a big maple in the garden. There were a number of apple trees and a raspberry patch, sufficient to keep us supplied during the season. However, to the children one of the chief attractions was that during winter and spring every thaw flooded the north side of the property, creating a natural rink used by all the children of the neighborhood.
Dad rose at 6:00 a.m. and spent till about 7:30 reading in the parlor, first in the Bible, then half an hour of Greek and finally whatever he happened to be studying at the time, for he was a student by nature and his tastes were catholic and broad. Somerville usually spent the time with him and recalls reading through Proverbs, which he found of great interest, and learning the Greek alphabet and other things.
Breakfast was prepared by one of the two servants and Mother and Father had a quiet time before it for reading and prayer. It was at a quarter to eight and we children were supposed to be on time. It consisted of porridge, eggs, bread and marmalade, with milk for the children, tea for Mother and possum for Father.
During the meal each child was supposed to repeat a verse from Proverbs, but so often fell back upon “Is Saul also among the prophets?” (1 Sam. 10:1212And one of the same place answered and said, But who is their father? Therefore it became a proverb, Is Saul also among the prophets? (1 Samuel 10:12)) that the practice was discontinued. While sitting around the table we read, verse and verse about, a chapter from the Old Testament, after which Father prayed.
(Helen) I can still remember the impression the books of the Old Testament made on me (I was six and just able to read). The early historical books I enjoyed, the Psalms seemed terribly sad, full of groaning and lamenting, Isaiah terribly dull, Jeremiah more interesting.
(Somerville) After breakfast Helen and I cleared the breakfast table. We used to quarrel as to who should carry out the teapot, probably because whoever did so could take a drink from the spout. Then there were the guinea pigs to feed, shoes to shine and other duties preparatory to setting off for school, which began at 9.00 a.m. at our Aunt Dora’s, a short block away. Dad walked to the Bank, about a mile, leaving about 8:30.
(Helen) Mother attended to her house. About ten she bathed the baby, little Hope, giving me a reading lesson at the same time. There followed arithmetic and a chapter from “Little Arthur’s England”. But when I was seven I too went to Aunt Dora’s school and was the youngest there, at first spending much of the time listening to the lessons of the older ones and picking up a good deal of information. School began with a Bible lesson and all repeated verses. Then came the three R’s, history, geography and French.
(Somerville) Aunt Dora was a remarkable woman. Her memory was amazing. She had traveled abroad and spoke French and German fluently. She was also an excellent teacher. The academic records established later by her pupils were in large measure due to the initial grounding she instilled. Her pupils in those early days included Katherine Baines, Rita Henderson, Lewis Clark, Dorothy and Hugh Mitchell besides the four Willis children.
At half past twelve we came home to dinner, school finished for the day. Dad also came home. After dinner Mother read to us, first from the Bible, then from “Line Upon Line”. We learned a hymn. Then followed a chapter or more from some history or biography, such as Motley’s “Rise of the Dutch Republic” or D’Aubigny’s “Life of Martin Luther”. When Mother grew weary of reading Dorothy “spelled her off”. During the reading, all of us had to do something—painting, drawing or a puzzle— since “Satan finds some mischief for idle hands....
After the reading Mother had a much needed rest and about 3:00 or 3:30 we were free to amuse ourselves as we liked. In winter this generally meant sleigh-riding. In spring and fall we went for walks or played in our own large orchard. Katie Baines often joined us.
(Helen) About 5:30 we were called in to do the small amount of home lessons required of us. Supper was about six—bread and jam—and Daddy read a chapter from the New Testament. Afterward Mother read to us, usually a story book, or else we played games such as Jenkins Up, Authors, or some such game. If Daddy was at home, which was not too frequently, he sometimes read to us, often from the B.O.W.C. books, of which he and we were extremely fond. Bedtime was at 8:00 p.m.
Port Hope was largely made up of Cornish and Devonshire people. In the market you could buy real Devonshire cream—said to be the only place in Canada at the time where it was available.
One night Mother had a remarkable dream. A few days after Miss Monsell (the elder) died she dreamed that the maid came upstairs and said to her: “Miss Monsell is in the drawing room”. Mother said: “She can’t be; she’s dead; I was at her funeral; it must be Miss Jane”. “No,” said the maid, “it’s Miss Mansell, certainly.” So Mother went downstairs and there she was in her old beaded cloak and little black bonnet. Mother said: “Well, Miss Monsell, are you happy in Heaven?” “Oh,” said Miss Monsell, “there isn’t any Heaven.” “What,” exclaimed Mother, “no Heaven. I’ve always believed there was a Heaven.” “Well,” said Miss Monsell, “I’ve been there and there isn’t any.” “What,” said Mother, “and is there no Lord Jesus?” “There’s nothing else,” said Miss Monsell, “it’s all the Lord Jesus.” So Mother said: “Well, that’s all I want; I don’t mind if there’s no Heaven”.
It was in this house that I had erysipelas and bronchopneumonia, for which I had to have hot poultices on my chest. I was promised a doll’s tea set, exhibited in Mr. Troop’s—the grocer—window in Englishtown, if I bore them bravely. I won this prize, a complete dinner set in miniature. It is still at Gordon Bay in the “coffin” (storage box).
The family loved to spend the summers out of doors —the more out of doors the better, preferably in tents. There were two happy weeks at Mr. Holdaway’s farm, in September, 1899, camping in two tents and cooking over an open fire. Then during the summers of 1900 and 1901 There were three tents on the Lakeshore at Mr. Bassett’s. The cooking was done in a shelter and the second summer Bertha Sydney was there to help. Of this place Mother wrote her poem:
Willow Camp
Did you ever visit Willow Camp?
It bears the O’Willis mark and stamp;
Children are here, and children there,
They seem to be file and rank and rear.
I wish you could see them, a sunburnt crowd,
With faces of tan and voices loud;
But health is written on cheek and brow,
And that is what we are seeking now.
Here comes Dorothy out of her tent,
The lake to her hair a curl has lent;
Of course she is busy with pencil or book,
Drawing a picture in some sheltered nook.
And dear little Helen looks like a squaw
Who has come straight down from the Mackinaw;
And Dorothy Mitchell so ready to run
Or carry provisions for every one.
Oh, here is Christie with hammer and nails,
But speaking of Sommie makes me think of shirt tails,
And little chap Hugh with his sturdy bare feet,
And our baby Hope is fair and sweet.
But Daddy is calling, “The porridge is made”,
Rokko is ready, the table is laid.
Say, Friend, will you eat with us under the trees
To the swish of the waves and the whispering breeze?
Now let us return to the open field
Where the children delight to the cricket bat wield.
They bat and bowl and chase the ball
And often we hear that magic word “all”.
And what are the little ones doing meanwhile?
I think their plays would make you smile.
Oh I wish you could see the castles they built,
The frocks they dirtied, the water they spilt.
And here is the pond where boats you can sail,
Or fish with a pin for a minnow or whale.
Where polliwogs, clams or shells can be sought,
To put in aquariums sold or bought.
But who can speak of the woods on the bank,
To which even the smallest feet can tramp,
To gather the berries that grow in its shade
Of which the nicest jam can be made?
Now dinner is o’er, to the tent you’ll be led,
The rollicking crowd are all perched on the bed,
Their fingers with cedar and knives they employ,
And turn out and fashion many a toy.
While Mother sits down on her own rocking chair
And Dorothy patiently brushes her hair.
For an hour or two a book must be read
To the rollicking crew all perched on the bed.
And Mother tries hard not to see bed or floor,
To look at the sand and the shavings all o’er,
But Christie cries bravely, “Oh fetch me a broom,
I will speedily tidy your canvas bed room.
And now comes the principal joy of the day.
At last the time comes, in the lake we can play.
It does not take long for our bath to prepare,
And when we’re once in the pleasure is rare.
For Hugh he can duck and Sommie can swim.
As to Chris there’s no terror in water for him.
I’m sure you would like when they dive from the raft
To hear the elder ones cheer and the little ones laugh.
At last tea is ready, but we will not sit down
Until our dear Daddy returns from the town
Whatever he brings us we thankfully take,
For sometimes it’s letters, and sometimes it’s cake.
A run and a race, the sun sets in the west,
And Mother cries cheerfully, “Now go to rest”
But before they are off, of this I am sure,
They will certainly clamour, “Just one biscuit more”.
P.S.
Sommie has learned to milk a cow;
To spell and to write Helen learns how.
Dorothy actually dishes can wash,
Hope can manage to put on her socks.
Nor must we forget Christie the cook,
When at fizzie and shortcake we fondly look.
But one there is who in sunshine and damp
Has never forgotten the interests of camp;
Has cared for the welfare of young and of old
All the good she has done can never be told.
For Bertha I think three cheers we may give
And never forget her as long as we live.
Port Hope, 1901.
The first separation in the family came in the autumn of 1900 when Dorothy left for Miss Harmon’s boarding school in Ottawa. There she formed a life long friendship with the McKinnons, particularly Emma (afterward Mrs. Gee).
Christopher first went to Trinity College School in Port Hope after Easter in 1901. It was about a two mile walk from the Bramley Street house; a long, long hill going down and then across the valley and up the other side. (Christopher) I used to love it because I could go down the hill on my bicycle without holding on to the handlebars. One day I was going down the hill with Somerville sitting on the handlebars and with a cricket bat in one hand and the bicycle handle in the other. Dr. Clemeshaw, who always looked after us, was driving up the hill. As I passed him I made a great show of taking off my cap and he nearly had a fit. He turned his horse right around and went down to the bank and told my father, and I was told never to do it again.
(Helen) Everybody in the family except Dorothy had bicycles. There was a railway that ran across the bottom of the hill. Once I nearly ran into the train when I was coasting down.
The family had frequent visitors; Mr. and Mrs. Irwin and their teenage daughters Nan and Vi, Mr. Hayhoe, Mr. E. B. Hart, Mr. Rule and others.
Boys from T.C.S. were often at the house, for a meal, or to spend the holidays. Among these were Victor Spencer and Dean Rhodes and his brother.
The youngest in the family—Irwin Davidson Willis—was born at Chestnut Cottage on 17 September 1901.
(Helen) Aunt Dora moved her school into rooms next to the meeting room the day David was born. I went downtown with her to help her start it and when I got home in the afternoon I found a baby brother.
Aunt Dora’s school increased considerably. Kathleen and Jamie Eaton attended, also the children of Dr. Symonds, the headmaster of Trinity College School, and others.
The flooding at Chestnut Cottage became such a problem and it was so far from Trinity College School, that the family moved to a house on Ward Street early in 1902. This house was at the foot of the hill near the town park and the school, just east of Hope Street.