At the beginning of this century Canada was virtually comprised in the province of Quebec. Of course Halifax was a British military depot, and there were a few scattered settlements of hunters and traders in different parts of the upper provinces; but the civilization of these hardy pioneers was but one remove from the barbarism of the Algonquins and Hurons or Wyandots, whom they drove slowly but steadily before them into the wilderness of the great Northwest. A party of voyageurs preparing to start upon a voyage of discovery among the solitudes of the upper St. Lawrence aroused the same curiosity and compassion in the minds of the good citizens of Montreal and Quebec in 1800 as would now probably be manifested about the members of a locally organized expedition to the North Pole.
Ottawa’s position to-day as the capital of Canada is the sequence of a singularly interesting chapter of accidents.
In the early period of its history, Montreal and Quebec were the only two cities in Canada, and a perennial quarrel existed as to which of them retained the honor of precedence in the commerce and civilization of the colony. The animosity was almost as ancient and respectable as that of the rival houses of Montague and Capulet. It originated in the jealousies and frictions between Maisonneuve, the founder of Montreal, and the governor of Quebec in the seventeenth century. It was not until 1859 that the dispute for supremacy of position was submitted for arbitration and final settlement to the imperial government. Ottawa was, at that time, an obscure town with a small and struggling population, the result for the most part of the military settlement made during the construction of the Rideau Canal. Her Majesty, upon the advice of her colonial ministry, selected Barrack Hill, the rocky eminence overhanging the Ottawa River, as the site for the Parliament of Canada, and on September 1, 1860, the Prince of Wales laid the foundation stone of the present buildings. In 1867, confederation was an accomplished fact, and Canada ceased to be a collection of independent provinces, and became a Dominion. The old parliamentary buildings in Toronto and Quebec were relegated to the especial use of the provincial legislatures; the viceroy abandoned his quarters near the sky in the citadel of the ancient capital, and Ottawa became the seat of the federal government, the official residence of his Excellency the Governor-General, with his attendant court of St. James in miniature, and quite a gay little capital for at least three months out of every twelve. And the river in the valley below, which once seemed as if it would be left in its primeval stillness forever, has become the great highway of the lumbering trade of Canada, and its waters are churned day and night into long frothy furrows by bellowing steamers and wheezy little tugs, with long trains of barges and timber rafts astern.
Considerable rivalry still exists among the principal cities of the Dominion, but the status of each is now defined. Ottawa is, of course, the political Mecca and social hub of the country; Montreal is the commercial metropolis; Toronto, modeled after American Western cities, is the center of the education, culture, base-ball and religious enthusiasm of Canada, and Quebec, although decayed, is the most delightful corner of the whole continent.
Ottawa is a city by virtue of its position alone. It is really a provincial town in a state of transition. Apart from the parliamentary buildings it is devoid of architectural pretensions, and it is of too recent growth to have any rich historical associations. In the principal streets of the city one is haunted by an oppressive sense of newness. It enjoys the reputation of being par excellence the most brilliantly lit city on the continent; all the streets and most of the stores are lighted by electricity.
The social system of Ottawa is not very well understood in Canada, except by those who actually move in the official circles of the capital. The court is a queer mixture of aristocratic institutions and mob law. It lacks the inseparable class discrimination of the court of St. James in London, and cannot claim to have acquired the usages of a dignified democracy, as seen in such perfection in the official circles of Washington. There is no aristocracy in Canada, except that of brains and muscle, and that does not usually seek to be limned out at court by the fierce light that is supposed to beat around a throne. The old-world aristocracy, with its subtle train of sequences, means social gulfs unbridgeable. It means idle and ever-increasing wealth almost cheek by jowl with the most desperate poverty. In Canada the millions have still a belief in the eternal equities, and “caste” will not be tolerated even in our little provincial court of St. James. There, however, a few people in Ottawa who have endeavored to introduce the English social system of titular precedence and “caste” distinctions into the social scheme. They are, unfortunately, the victims of their own imaginations, and live in an atmosphere of antiquated idealism. Canada has a monarchical form of government, but the masses are essentially democratic, and regard with feelings of pity and contempt the flummery and court of millinery which are all that the progress of the age has left to royalty and divine succession.
The Governor-General’s functions are distinctively and exclusively social. It is true that he opens and prorogues Parliament, and gives his assent to the bills passed each session; but he merely acts at the dictation of the Premier, and possesses no more power in the legislation of the country than does the Queen in England. It is not, of course, his fault, but the position of a governor-general is an anomaly to-day. His office, defined with brutal truth, is nothing more than a transplanted fetishism of the old world, with a sinecure attached to it. The principal occupation of his Excellency is to be bored with addresses from learned and patriotic societies, and respond to the toast of “The Queen,” at public dinners. He certainly also bears the onus of recommending to her Britannic Majesty suitable persons for minor decorations and titles, which can be obtained by achieving a reputation as a giver of good dinners at the capital, and upon the payment of a nominal sum to the crown, to defray incidental expenses. A court exercising in some measure the rigid etiquette of the British institution, must, however, have a train of courtiers and a stock of exclusive shibboleths. In the absence of a heritage of blue blood the Canadian “aristocracy” possesses the Clicquot brand of their civil service. Officialism practically constitutes the court, and it also embraces clubdom and snobbdom. The manners of the jeunesse dorée of her Majesty’s civil service in Ottawa have become proverbial throughout the Dominion. These young men are recruited for the most part from the younger sons of the British aristocracy; but the civil service numbers in its ranks many highly-cultivated and brilliant men.
It is not very difficult to obtain recognition at Rideau Hall. In the early days of the session, all one has to do is to take a quarter of an hour’s drive to Government House, inscribe one’s name and address on the visiting-book in charge of an orderly, and leave a card. This is followed, as a rule, by a note of invitation from her Excellency to her first large reception. The “At Homes,” at Government House, on Saturday afternoons, are more exclusive, while the musical and theatrical parties are the most exclusive of all the vice-regal entertainments. These are not usually given during the parliamentary session, at which time the programme generally consists of a dreary repetition of official dinner-parties. The guests to these latter arrive at seven-thirty P.M., and, by the laws of an unwritten but perfectly well understood code, they leave at ten o’clock, punctually. A very few moments are spent in the drawing-room after dinner. At these dinners official position takes precedence. A cabinet minister or his lady takes precedence of a member of Parliament and his lady, and so on right down to the third-class clerks in the civil service. The residents of Ottawa, however, are seldom invited to these dinners. This crust of officialism is occasionally broken when their Excellency’s guests have been invited to meet some distinguished man; but, as a rule, these festive gatherings are much like a table d’hôte at a Saratoga hotel. It is a peculiar thing that widows, or young girls who are motherless, are seldom or never invited to Government House, unless the latter happen to be keeping house for their fathers. This regulation excludes a large and charming element in Ottawa society, which might infuse more life into these somewhat dull and pompous dinners.
There are frequently a number of distinguished American visitors at Rideau Hall, and they are always very popular and much sought after in society. They are generally blessed with a good share of this world’s goods, and exercise a lavish generosity that astonishes the storekeepers, who have been carefully educated up to a due appreciation of the benefits of the English credit system, in order to sustain the impecunious dignity of the bureaucracy of the capital. In their turn, the Americans are greatly interested in going to court, and if they are amused at the proceedings they are too courteous to betray themselves.
The Ottawa season and the parliamentary session are practically synonymous terms. The first social event of the season is the formal opening of Parliament by the Governor-General, at which everybody is present, and the State dinner, that takes place in the evening of the same day. In the days of Lord Dufferin’s occupancy of the Government House this dinner was confined to the ministers of the crown; but of late years it has included as well privy councillors, the judges of the Supreme Court, the speakers of the two houses, the deputy ministers and higher officials of the civil service, and some of the leading members of the Senate and House of Commons. The number of guests on this occasion is usually about eighty, but after the dinner is over a reception is held, for which cards are issued to the wives and daughters of those invited to the feast, besides the large army of those who invariably make an appearance at these affairs.
The “drawing-room,” which is held by the Speaker of the Senate in the Senate Chamber, takes place a few days after the opening of the session, and to it everybody who is anybody is invited. All the haut ton of the Dominion are present, and the chamber is converted into a veritable Vanity Fair, thronged with the devotees of fashion. The galleries are dark with interested spectators, and dotted here and there with the brilliant toilettes of the ladies. The scene altogether is kaleidoscopic in its multi-colored effects of life and movement. The costumes show what it is possible for Ottawa society to accomplish, even though it is situated three thousand miles away from Paris, the hub of the fashionable world.
The gubernatorial ball, which is given at Rideau Hall at the close of Lent, is the great event of the social season at our giddy capital, and to it the wives and daughters of officialdom look forward as the one “red-letter” occasion in their rather monotonous existence. Then do they hobnob with the ministry, and cut a figure in the presence of nobility, and the following morning their names are published in all the local papers among those of the élite of the land.
Lord Stanley of Preston is one of the best representatives of the type of the old aristocracy that is fast disappearing in England. He is a wholesome British aristocrat—indeed he was generally known in transatlantic society as the “first gentleman in England.” He certainly, by his manners and his irreproachable domestic character, merits the distinction. Lord Stanley is a tall, heavily-built man, and in a crowd would be noticeable for his generous proportions. His face is expressive of generosity and a tolerant good humor. He is not by any means a brilliant man, and his official speeches are inclined to be ponderous; but he has a hearty manner in his intercourse with all classes, and is wholly devoid of affectation. In fact he is a perfect gentleman, in the large sense of the word, as it is accepted in democratic America. There is nothing of the patrician about his appearance, and, without knowing him, one would come to the conclusion that he was a prosperous director of some large banking or other commercial concern, and was removed by his dividends from all earthly care. He has the air of a man content with the world and himself, and one would never suspect that his life-long occupation has been diplomacy. But then the British corps diplomatique is proverbially free from Machiavellian qualities.
Lady Constance Stanley is a woman particularly adapted to supplement her husband’s intellectual and moral being, and, indeed, she possesses many of the same qualities of mind which distinguish him. She is, like him, essentially English in both appearance and manner. A glance is sufficient to reveal the fact that she is a product of the British civilization and social system. She is a tall, well-proportioned woman, of refined and matronly demeanor; her features are pleasant and regular without being distinctly handsome, and there is a very womanly, lovable look in her eyes, which compensates for the absence of any strongly marked primary mentality. Her tournure is pleasing with all the charms of maturity, and her toilettes always denote infallible judgment and good taste, both in the selection of color and material, and in the arrangement. Although Lady Stanley does not display exactly the same interest in the social commonwealth, and hardly exercises the same exuberant hospitality as her immediate predecessor at Rideau Hall, she has already become very well liked at the capital, and her régime as leader of Ottawa society promises to be as successful as that of Lady Lansdowne, and will probably eclipse that of the Princess Louise, whose notions of etiquette were too frigid for a democracy.
The Hon. Edward and Lady Alice Stanley, the bridal pair of last winter, who crossed the Atlantic to spend their honeymoon at the Canadian capital, are very pleasant though not brilliant young people. The bridegroom at once undertook the not particularly arduous duties of secretary to his father, and both he and his bride showed that they possessed the happy faculty of deriving keen enjoyment from their surroundings. They entered with zest into all the exhilarating sports of our Canadian winter season, and sleighing or tobogganing parties were organized for nearly every day in the week; in fact (tell it not in Gath), small and select tobogganing parties have been given at Government House even on Sunday afternoons, despite the severe Puritanism of the social atmosphere in Canada.
Although Rideau Hall is the omnipotent force in the social whirl of Ottawa, Lady Macdonald has been virtually the leader of society at the capital for over twenty years. She is a really remarkable woman, and if the wives’ shares in the greatness of their husbands was only acknowledged, Lady Macdonald would have to be credited with a considerable part of Sir John Macdonald’s successful administration of the affairs of the nation. She is in every respect a fit companion for the veteran statesman. She is tall and robust. Her head is rather large for a woman, but it is well shaped and denotes a firm will and a clear, fine intellect. Her features are strongly marked, and there is the same lurking determination and power about her eyes and mouth that one notices in Sir John’s face. Indeed, it is generally remarked that in the course of their long married life the Premier and his wife have become wonderfully alike, both in their habits of thought and in their physical expression. There is something essentially masculine in Lady Macdonald’s character and in her marvelous breadth of mind. Although her hair is now silvery, she follows the politics of the country with the keenest interest, and Sir John has great confidence in her judgment. Indeed, it has often been wittily said that in the case of Sir John’s resignation or death, there is no person in Canada who possesses a more subtle perception of political exigencies, or is better qualified to succeed him as First Minister, than her ladyship. In former years she was to be seen in the Speaker’s gallery nearly every evening of the session, and was remarkable as the only lady in it who followed the debates of the House. When Sir John was on his feet, her eyes would become fastened upon him, and not a single point of his argument escaped her. She does not visit the House quite so frequently of late years. The recent death of Miss Macdonald, Sir John’s sister, has made her comparatively retired, and moreover, although she has more physical and mental vigor than many young women of twenty summers, her ladyship is beginning to experience something of the lassitude which comes with advancing age. She is a brilliant conversationalist, and has a wonderful power of drawing out people, and by getting them to talk about their hobbies, mentally taking their measure. She is a shrewd judge of character, and her opinions on all subjects are worth having. She is a warm friend to the struggling litterateurs of Canada, and is herself a valued contributor to many of the leading English magazines. She has much of the personal magnetism that has been a material factor in Sir John’s long and successful career, and when she takes an interest in a person she is a truly delightful hostess. Her receptions on Saturday afternoons are cheerful and informal, and attract all the brightest lights of the political and literary firmament of the Dominion, besides the crowd of budding misses, old fops, and faded matrons who flock in for five o’clock tea. Lady Macdonald has arranged her ménage at Earnscliffe—her charming home—according to the civilized plan of the French: two meals a day, breakfast at eleven-thirty, and dinner at half-past seven. Of course, there is tea at five, but this is merely a raison d’être for the afternoon gatherings. There are always a few favored guests at her breakfasts, when the conversation is a pleasant mixture of half gossip and half politics, with a generous soupçon of delicate irony and wit in it. Her dinners, which are usually given on Saturday, are not as pretentious as some of those at Rideau, but they are infinitely more pleasant, and a “bid” to Earnscliffe is more highly valued than one to Rideau.
The government has become rather weak socially. The Hon. Mackenzie Bowell, the Minister of Customs, does not entertain at all. The Hon. Geo. Foster, the Minister of Finance, is a bachelor and a sort of social Diogenes; he neither invites people to dine with him nor dines out himself. The Hon. John Costigan and Sir Adolphe Caron are out of the social world. The world of a practical democracy is apt to be censorious, and the old noblesse are consequently hampered and harassed in their usual avocations. Lady Caron is a charming lady of French-Canadian origin; but although she is always a welcome guest in Ottawa society, she lives a retired life and does not entertain frequently. Sir Hector Langevin is a hard-headed politician of the “old school,” and he is not fond of society.
As the daughter of the now Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Nova Scotia, Mrs. C. H. Tupper, wife of Mr. Tupper, the Minister of Marine and Fisheries, created a favorable impression at the capital when her father occupied the position of Minister of Justice. The impression then created has since deepened and widened. As the wife of the youngest Minister in the Cabinet, Mrs. Tupper has already succeeded in establishing herself as one of the most popular leaders of society; and the influence of good dinners and judicious hospitality generally in the politics of a country is enormous. Mrs. Tupper is materially assisting her husband to overcome the prejudice existing against him on account of his precipitate promotion, which was, of course, due to his father’s, Sir Charles Tupper’s, position as High Commissioner for Canada. Nothing in the way of entertaining appears to be an effort to Mrs. Tupper, and she thoroughly enjoys what may be called the duties rather than the pleasures of the life of a Cabinet Minister’s wife. She is young and handsome; is very good-natured, and possesses a simplicity of manner whose charm wins upon a first acquaintance, and is also enduring. Her friendships are not easily broken. She entertains on a large scale, and it has been generally admitted that her dinners lack that element of stiffness for which the formal semi-political dinners of the capital are notorious.
The name of Mrs. Jeanie Jewell Hotchkiss has been more or less identified with many of the literary, artistic, and political men and women of her time. As the wife of the American Consul in Ottawa, Mrs. Hotchkiss has become widely known for her social charm and has greatly aided and abetted the labors of her husband with her charming savoir faire and inimitable resources of entertainment. She is the daughter of Darius Jewell, a member of an old English family settled in Connecticut, and her uncle Marshall Jewell was for two terms in succession Governor of Connecticut; afterward Postmaster-General under President Grant, and then American Minister to Russia. Mrs. Hotchkiss, after passing through her collegiate course, evinced considerable talent in literature and the dramatic art, and while still in her teens made a successful début as a dramatic reader in the city of Buffalo. She at once stepped into the first ranks of her profession as an accomplished elocutionist, and achieved not only a professional triumph, but a social ovation, all through the Union. Since her marriage in 1864 she has only appeared in public at rare intervals, but the habitués of Steinway and Chickering halls will remember her Shakespearean readings as one of the greatest intellectual treats attainable even in the metropolis. In appearance she still retains many of the physical charms which contributed in no small degree to the fascination of her dramatic impersonations, and her conversation sparkles with the nimble wit and aptness of allusion which betoken a considerable acquaintance with literature and the world.
Miss J. Bessie Hotchkiss has inherited a large share of her mother’s beauty, although she has not developed precisely the same amount of talent,—at least, not in the same direction. She is the possessor of a most fascinating type, with dark, bright eyes, full of mirth and good nature, and her form and carriage would attract attention in any bevy of beautiful women. Her sunshiny disposition renders her a general favorite in the social circles of Ottawa, and her presence is in demand at all the important gatherings of the season. During the viceroyalty of Lord Stanley’s predecessor, Miss Hotchkiss was a frequent guest at Rideau Hall, and she made her first plunge as a débutante into the society of the capital under the especial chaperonage of the Marchioness of Lansdowne, who always took a great interest in the youthful members of her circle.
Mrs. T. A. Kirkpatrick, wife of the ex-Speaker of the House of Commons, an eminent light of the Ontario Bar, was for two seasons before her marriage the reigning belle at the capital. She accompanies her husband every year to Ottawa, and while he is engaged in his sessional duties she takes an active and prominent part in the doings of society. She is a tall, dark woman, with smiling dark eyes, a slightly retroussé nose, and full, well-rounded lips. Her figure is perfection, and she dresses with exquisite taste. She is one of the few brilliant talkers one meets in Ottawa circles, and her conversation is impregnated with a femininity that is all the more charming because it is not of the orthodox and inane description.
The crowds one meets in the capital during the season are recruited from every quarter of the Dominion. They all troop off after the prorogation of Parliament. Among these, of whom a mere mention is possible within the limits of this article, are Miss Church, Miss Macdonald, Miss Bury, Mrs. Corbett, Miss Brown, of Hamilton, Miss Hall, of Sherbrooke, Miss Edythe H. Beers, of Montreal, and the Misses Lewis, of the same city.
I have not been able to compress within the compass of this article all that could be said about the court of Canada, and many prominent social lights have not been mentioned for this reason; but I have endeavored to give a fair description of the capital, its institutions, and more notable inhabitants. At the close of the parliamentary session society goes into chintz and covers itself up; the blinds are drawn; the Governor-General and his suite go off to Gaspé for bass fishing; and all those who are bound by business to remain in town try to appear as if they were just home for a couple of days, at the end of which time they rejoin the hordes at the fashionable watering-places.
