Wednesday, April 16, 1902

       This afternoon I met my new employers.  They are neither English nor Scots, but Jewish people who emigrated from Europe many years ago, and their name is Stein.  They greeted me very warmly, and even seem grateful Mrs. Stein will finally have some help in their house.  They seem to have a large family.  Mr. Stein is in Montreal on a buying trip, he told me.  He runs a large dry goods store in Sherbrooke. He said Sherbrooke is in the Eastern Townships part of Quebec.  They told me we will leave early in the morning, as it is about a day’s travel from Montreal.

         Mrs. Stein seemed worried I would not be dressed warmly enough for the trip, and said she would bring some extra shawls and gloves when they came for me – April can still be very cold. 

         The Steins seem to be such kind people!  I think I will be very happy in my new situation.  Hopefully the time will fly by and I will eventually be reunited with my little daughter, who I miss more than I can tell.

         And so tonight the girls who shared the long voyage with me said their goodbyes and best wishes, and we all settled down to sleep with hope in our hearts for a better tomorrow.  Here’s to the future!

Here Jean Sinclair’s diary inexplicably ends.  We still have some of the letters exchanged with her cousin, and so Jean’s story in Canada is not entirely lost to us. Read on, as we enter part II of her story.

Tuesday, April 15, 1902

         It was so exciting landing at Montreal!  It is huge and so busy I don’t think I will ever get used to it.  Our chaperone told us there are about half a million people living here.  Most of the English-speaking people live in what is called the “square mile”, on the south part of the large mountain that everyone can see from our dormitory.  It is called Mount Royal.  There are also many French-speaking people living in Montreal, but everyone seems to speak English. 

         Our chaperone is beginning to give out assignments, the English girls first, of course.  Most of them will be staying in Montreal with the wealthy English-speaking people around Mount Royal.  They will be meeting their new employers this afternoon.  It will be our turn, that is, we Scots, to be assigned tomorrow.  We will have to leave each other, perhaps to never meet again.  I will miss my new friends very much.  I doubt any of us will sleep well tonight!

Sunday, April 13, 1902

         We are sailing down a river so wide I cannot see the shore on either side.  There is a large map in the dining room that shows the river is called the St. Lawrence.  We are now heading inland, towards the city of Montreal, where we will be assigned to our families.  Before that we will sail past the ancient city of Quebec – we are told it’s the oldest city in North America, and everyone who lives there speaks French.

         Tonight we will try our best to freshen ourselves using buckets of warm water.  We have agreed to wash each other’s hair and braid it so we look presentable, and in the morning put whatever servant’s clothing we have, so as to make a good impression. 

         I’ve gotten quite fond of our ship, and feel quite reluctant to leave it.  I hope I will get a good placement – I think I am overdue for a kind mistress.

Saturday, April 12, 1902

         I heard from one of the crew we are nearing Newfoundland, one of the Canadian colonies.  It reaches out into the North Atlantic.  The air is now very cold, made more so by the enormous icebergs we see floating away in the distance.  Once of the sailors told me we only see the tip of the icebergs – most of it is hidden under the ocean, and I simply can’t believe how enormous it must be!  Imagine if a ship came too close to it – it would be destroyed for sure.  As we neared shore I saw many strange animals.  Everyone in our group was amazed at the strange beasts.  One of the officers pointed out their names to us.   There were huge sea lions resting on an icy outcropping, making bellowing sounds, seals scampering up onto an ice floe to escape the fierce killer whales, and flocks and flocks of seabirds.  Wonderful!

Wednesday, April 9, 1902

         We have been at sea for six days.  We were delayed by some mechanical problems in Liverpool, but were confined to our ship.  It is bigger than I could have ever imagined.  The other girls in my cabin are Megan, Joan and Clarissa, and they are all Scots like me.  We all became friendly and had some good talks before we sailed.   The conversation often touched on the way the English look down on us.  “After all,” Joan said, “ Most of us can read and write better than most of them.  We have all read good literature, including poetry, which is a lot more than some of those girls from London can.”  Megan produced a scrap of newspaper that said “Of all the immigrants . . . the Scotch are most welcome . . . they bring muscle and brain and tried skill and trustworthiness in many of the great industries of which . . . they are the most successful.”  It was from a Canadian journalist writing to a British newspaper. 

         The day we left was hard.  Though we could not see our beloved Scotland we all wept as land faded into the distance.  Soon Ireland was also far behind and we were in the open sea.  A storm kept us in our bunks for the first two days, using the bucket especially left in our cabin for seasickness.  The smells in our cabin – a mixture of used chamberpots, vomit and smoke from the coal-fired engines – drove me out on deck, where the clean sea air soon cleared my head.  There were only a few of us seated in the dining room that night, but the thick soup and hot tea were very welcome.

Sunday, March 23, 1902

Sunday, March 23, 1902

         We are all ready to depart.  I do not know the name of our ship, I only know we are to be housed four girls to each cabin.  I also know the English girls in our group are being favoured by Mrs. Martin, the chaperone –also English.  She told us the families in Canada prefer English domestic servants, with Scots second and Irish third and last.  They do not seem more refined then the rest of us.  I have also heard a rumor that some of us were misled by the steamship agents – they say the period of indentureship is for three years, not one as I was told!  Well, the agreements were signed, and there is no going back now. 

         We have been instructed to wear our warmest clothes tomorrow, for the winds on the great Atlantic Ocean are cold.  Now I have to pack and label my kist box.  I have said goodbye to the only country I have ever known.  Every night I say my silent goodnights to my little Mary, and send my love her way.  Will she remember anything of her mother, I wonder?