Authors: Mazo de la Roche
Tags: #FIC045000 – FICTION / Sagas
Sometimes she actually found herself smiling at what she had written. Then the memories of what had taken place in the room would overwhelm her and she would begin to cry. But then she would regain control of herself and pick up her pencil again. While Mazo wrote, or tried to write, Bunty lay at her feet. When Mazo went outside, Bunty led the way.
Soon the practical Caroline had secured a job as a clerk in the provincial parliament buildings in Toronto. Mazo and Bertie joined Caroline in the city, and the three rented an inexpensive house there. With Caroline’s small but steady salary, Mazo’s occasional sales of stories, and Bunty’s example of courageousness, the women somehow managed without Will.
“We Two” Against the World
And so our new life began
.
“JOAN OF THE BARNYARD – A YOUNG POETESS WHO LOVES CHICKENS,” was the title of an article about Mazo in the Toronto
Star Weekly
of February 7, 1914. The article featured a picture of Mazo looking very silly in traditional dairy-maid pose amidst her Leghorn hens on the farm in Bronte. It mentioned vaguely that Mazo’s writing had appeared in “American journals.” It concluded with one of her poems.
Evidently the author of the article, Amelia Beers Garvin, felt that Mazo was a writer to watch, even though Mazo had not yet written anything longer than a short story. Mrs. Garvin, the literary editor of the Toronto
Mail and Empire
, was also the author of several books. Mrs. Garvin was about the same age as Mazo, but she had accomplished more. Of course Mrs. Garvin had the advantage of wealth and connections: she was a Warnock from Galt, and the Warnocks were related to the Masseys of Toronto.
Mazo de la Roche in her late thirties or early forties with Bunty and Hamish at Lake Simcoe.
When Mazo and Bertie joined Caroline in Toronto in the fall of 1915, Mazo continued to write humorous stories about three mischievous boys. She also joined several literary clubs, renewed old acquaintances, and made new friends, including Amelia Beers Garvin. Mazo’s continuing creative activity was made possible by Caroline’s unfailing emotional and financial support.
Caroline faced those difficult days with a gallant resolution that Mazo was not then experienced enough to appreciate. Mazo just assumed Caroline would support her.
Caroline not only supplied the bread and butter on their plates and the roof over their heads. She also supplied leadership.
“Mazo must go on with her writing,” said Caroline. “But we are in very straitened circumstances, and we must change our mode of living drastically. Everything must go. We must economize.”
Between 1915 and 1920, the three women remained together. They moved from a duplex on Birchall Avenue in Bronte to a little house on Huron Street in Toronto, then to Collier Street, then to Walker Avenue, then to a different house on Collier, then to a different house on Walker. These were all rented accommodations within walking distance of Caroline’s job. During the summers, as always, they holidayed beside Lake Simcoe. Mazo and Bertie spent the whole summer there; Caroline visited them on weekends and during her two-week annual vacation.
Caroline was doing well. In 1917, she became a statistician in the Fire Marshall’s office of the Ontario government. Her salary was raised to six hundred dollars per year. Even when she was haunted by her unhappy past, Caroline kept on working and improving her job status.
In 1919 and 1920, Caroline’s older brother was bad news. Literally. “SERIOUS CHARGE HAS BEEN LAID,” announced the headline in the
Brantford Expositor
on May 6, 1919. Caroline did not normally read the Brantford paper, but she heard about the article from her family. Her brother had been accused of accepting money for helping someone avoid military service during the First World War.
“HONORABLE ACQUITTAL FOR J.H. CLEMENT,” was the headline on May 15, 1919. The judge had acquitted Caroline’s brother of this charge, but he had done so before the accuser’s lawyer could reach the court! The
Expositor
article about her brother’s acquittal ended with a quotation from the accuser’s lawyer. “There has been a gross violation of justice,” the lawyer declared. “The last has not been heard of it, as I shall institute civil proceedings against Clement to recover $700.”
Had Caroline’s brother taken a bribe or hadn’t he? If he had, he must have been very cynical about his family’s distinguished record of military service.
“To the Grave: JAMES HARVEY CLEMENT,” read the headline in the
Brantford Expositor
of January 3, 1920. Now Caroline’s brother was dead!
On the surface all had seemed well with Caroline’s brother, who went by “Harvey.” He had married an Orillia girl, moved to Brantford, fathered several children, and risen to the position of foreman of the Verity Plow Company. He had even been elected an alderman for the city of Brantford. Then, as if the bribery charge were not enough, suddenly, on December 31, 1919, he dropped dead at the age of forty-six while on business related to his role as alderman.
Harvey’s mysterious death made several more headlines in the Brantford newspaper because an inquest was held. The coroner at the inquest concluded that Harvey had died of heart failure due to an overdose of alcohol. Harvey had drunk too much bootleg whisky from a bottle he was carrying with him. There had been nothing wrong with the whisky; Harvey had just drunk far too much of it.
The coroner also concluded that Harvey had been a chronic alcoholic. This in a period of prohibition!
Why was Harvey drinking so heavily? Had he inherited a tendency toward alcoholism? Did he have marital problems? Did he feel guilty about accepting a bribe?
Poor Caroline! She could not help wondering what had gone wrong with Harvey. After all, most of Harvey’s male first cousins were doing very well. They included not only a druggist, an agriculturalist, engineers, lawyers, and aldermen, but also judges and a business magnate. One first cousin, Stephen Clement Junior, who lived in Brandon, Manitoba, had been mayor of Brandon and a member of the Manitoba legislature, as well as a judge and alderman. Another firstcousin, Reggie MacMillan, who was Chief Forester of British Columbia, had recently incorporated a company to sell B.C. lumber products to foreign markets. Meanwhile, Caroline’s brother had tried to keep up with his successful cousins, but he had been as much a failure as his father. Poor Harvey!
While Caroline was still mourning her brother, Mazo’s mother died of pneumonia during a flu epidemic in the winter of 1920. Mazo and Caroline buried Bertie beside Will in the old Newmarket cemetery. They spent their first summer vacation without Bertie in the same cottage on Lake Simcoe where one year earlier Bertie had read aloud to them from a copy of
Don Quixote
by Miguel de Cervantes. The book had belonged to Grandfather Roche. They spent their first Christmas without Bertie at the Toronto home of Amelia Beers Garvin.
The last living members of both women’s immediate families were gone. Now it was “we two” against the world. In the months following her mother’s death, Mazo began to work on her first novel and several plays. She also finished writing the series of stories that would be included in her first published book,
Explorers of the Dawn
.
The New York firm Alfred A. Knopf published
Explorers of the Dawn
. In 1922
Explorers of the Dawn
was on bestseller lists in the United States.
Christopher Morley, an important American author and editor, wrote an introduction to
Explorers of the Dawn
. He called the stories “fanciful” as well as “delicate and humorous” and “refreshing and happy.” He compared
Explorers of the Dawn
to
Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens
by James Barrie and
The Wind in the Willows
by Kenneth Grahame.
The main characters in the closely interwoven series of stories are three English boys who wear Eton collars, eat bread pudding, and say things like “bully fun.” The three are brothers who live in their governess’s house because their mother has died and their father is absent on a long business trip. The boys are high spirited and irreverent. To them, every day is a grand adventure, and all adult authority figures are irrelevant bores.
Beneath the merriment and hijinks is unhappiness. The boys’ guardian, their governess, is a kind of wicked stepmother who is as stiff, inhuman, and unloving as the frightening stuffed birds in her parlour. In the end, the boys are rescued and restored to their rightful guardian, their father, who promises them ponies and dogs.
Explorers of the Dawn
is very English in many ways. Nevertheless, the stories include details from Mazo’s own childhood in Canada. For example, in one of the stories each boy is given a long red banana by an Italian named Salvator. Mazo remembered the long red bananas peddled by an Italian fruit vendor named Salvator Polito in Toronto.