Right now I am too sleepy to write much more. So I will endeavour to record each day, no matter how humdrum. I enjoy putting my thoughts into words and, until now, I have not had the paper to do so.

My safe life will probably not interest my grandchildren. I would not like to endure what they have. Hamilton was once almost shipwrecked, even though he is only nineteen. Mama and Papa and Tabitha have all experienced terrible wars. I would rather my life were dull than dangerous, however. Compared with them, Maria and I have led dull lives. Hamilton has a journal - he writes in it every day, and he has shown me bits. Grandchildren! That is too strange to think about - I am only eleven! Write down what happens to you every day and you will have something interesting to show your grandchildren.” “Use it to tell your story, Susanna,” said Hamilton, as I thanked him. She says she will never use it, it is so pretty.Īnd for me, this elegant little book! It has red leather covers and many thick creamy pages. He also brought everyone a present: a volume of Scott’s poetry for Mama, tobacco for Papa, velvet ribbons for Maria (how she will preen in front of Charles!) and a handkerchief for Tabitha. What a great many items he unpacked! Coffee and souchong tea, brandy and rum, loaf sugar, salt, a soup tureen and a silver ladle, many tools and a handsome clock for the parlour. Today my beloved brother Hamilton returned from Kingston, where he has been for the past two weeks, selling flour and buying supplies for the farm. This is the best present I have ever received. Niagara Peninsula, Upper Canada, May, 1812

Whispers of war kit pearson