affluence, and by himself. Heâs like the clever boy not quite certain of his gifts and aching for the approval of the one person whose applause, or censure, he really cares about. So he tells her everything.
âYou would be surprised at the breakfasts I eat,â he wrote. âWilson laughs as he sees roll after roll disappear and eggs and bacon after roll. My dinners are equally satisfactory to myselfâ¦. Now only fancy, my commencing my dinner with a sole fried, with shrimp sauce, demolishing a large steak, and polishing off with bread and cheese and a quart of London Stout.â He told her he was getting on well with the girls. Through a Lord De La Warr he had obtained âan order to see the Queenâs private apartmentsâ at Windsor Castle. He didnât go alone: âI had a very pretty girl, Margaret Wanklyn [a relative of his other companion fromCanada], on my arm, to whom the scene was also new,â he enthused, âso we were agreeably engaged in comparing our impressions. Our ideas sympathized wonderfully. â He also described his networking successes. âI have formed acquaintances and dined with two or three lawyers here by whose assistance I have seen all the great guns of the law.â Among them, as he looked down from the gallery in the House of Lords, were âthe great Law Lords, Lyndhurst, Brougham, Campbell and Cottenham. At the Guildhall, I saw Lord Denman and Sir Nicholas Tindal.â Later, he went to the House of Commons, where he spotted âPeel, Goudham, Lord John Russell, Lord Stanley, OâConnell, Duncombe, Walkley.â He had plans to go on to the Tower and dine with two members of Parliament. Still, he hadnât forgotten his domestic commitments: he would buy, as requested, damask, and âpaper hangings and some chimney ornaments.â
Macdonald gave to and received from his mother, Helen, pure unconditional love, right up to her death and then beyond; he was buried beside her in Kingstonâs Cataraqui Cemetery. In different ways, their lives were hard, and they both deserved this pure intercourse between them.
Yet, as so often with Macdonald, nothing was ever simple. He worshipped his mother, but he didnât copy her. She was deeply pious; he most certainly was not. She came from a long line of military men; he, as was most unusual among public figures of the day, never held an officerâs commission in the militia and always regarded the military with a distinct skepticism. In the end, Macdonald did his own thing in his own way.
During his long stay in Britain, Macdonald travelled widely: to Manchester (where he bought wallpaper and the damask, and also a kitchen stove and iron railings); over to Chester to see a son of the familyâs now-deceased patron, Colonel Macpherson; on up to Scotland; and then a side trip to the Isle of Man to seeyet more relatives. It was fully summer by the time he returned home.
Macdonald went back to the grind of law. His Kingston properties did exceptionally well for a time, until the real estate crash. Confident of his business skills nevertheless, Macdonald eventually bought and sold land all over the province, in Guelph and Toronto and Peterborough and as far away as Sarnia. At one time, he and Campbell jointly owned a steamship, though it promptly sank. Macdonald did better with a steam yacht that he managed to resell at a profit. Surprisingly, in view of his future history, Macdonald almost never invested in railways. *20
Even as he was trying to become a tycoon, though, friends noticed a distinct change in the line of his interests. He asked one of them what he should do to prepare himself for political office should he ever seek it. Back came the reply, âJoin the Orange Lodge and become an alderman.â He asked Tom Wilson, his companion on the trip to Britain, about the financial side of political life. Back came the sound advice: âSecure a handsome independence first
âYou would be surprised at the breakfasts I eat,â he wrote. âWilson laughs as he sees roll after roll disappear and eggs and bacon after roll. My dinners are equally satisfactory to myselfâ¦. Now only fancy, my commencing my dinner with a sole fried, with shrimp sauce, demolishing a large steak, and polishing off with bread and cheese and a quart of London Stout.â He told her he was getting on well with the girls. Through a Lord De La Warr he had obtained âan order to see the Queenâs private apartmentsâ at Windsor Castle. He didnât go alone: âI had a very pretty girl, Margaret Wanklyn [a relative of his other companion fromCanada], on my arm, to whom the scene was also new,â he enthused, âso we were agreeably engaged in comparing our impressions. Our ideas sympathized wonderfully. â He also described his networking successes. âI have formed acquaintances and dined with two or three lawyers here by whose assistance I have seen all the great guns of the law.â Among them, as he looked down from the gallery in the House of Lords, were âthe great Law Lords, Lyndhurst, Brougham, Campbell and Cottenham. At the Guildhall, I saw Lord Denman and Sir Nicholas Tindal.â Later, he went to the House of Commons, where he spotted âPeel, Goudham, Lord John Russell, Lord Stanley, OâConnell, Duncombe, Walkley.â He had plans to go on to the Tower and dine with two members of Parliament. Still, he hadnât forgotten his domestic commitments: he would buy, as requested, damask, and âpaper hangings and some chimney ornaments.â
Macdonald gave to and received from his mother, Helen, pure unconditional love, right up to her death and then beyond; he was buried beside her in Kingstonâs Cataraqui Cemetery. In different ways, their lives were hard, and they both deserved this pure intercourse between them.
Yet, as so often with Macdonald, nothing was ever simple. He worshipped his mother, but he didnât copy her. She was deeply pious; he most certainly was not. She came from a long line of military men; he, as was most unusual among public figures of the day, never held an officerâs commission in the militia and always regarded the military with a distinct skepticism. In the end, Macdonald did his own thing in his own way.
During his long stay in Britain, Macdonald travelled widely: to Manchester (where he bought wallpaper and the damask, and also a kitchen stove and iron railings); over to Chester to see a son of the familyâs now-deceased patron, Colonel Macpherson; on up to Scotland; and then a side trip to the Isle of Man to seeyet more relatives. It was fully summer by the time he returned home.
Macdonald went back to the grind of law. His Kingston properties did exceptionally well for a time, until the real estate crash. Confident of his business skills nevertheless, Macdonald eventually bought and sold land all over the province, in Guelph and Toronto and Peterborough and as far away as Sarnia. At one time, he and Campbell jointly owned a steamship, though it promptly sank. Macdonald did better with a steam yacht that he managed to resell at a profit. Surprisingly, in view of his future history, Macdonald almost never invested in railways. *20
Even as he was trying to become a tycoon, though, friends noticed a distinct change in the line of his interests. He asked one of them what he should do to prepare himself for political office should he ever seek it. Back came the reply, âJoin the Orange Lodge and become an alderman.â He asked Tom Wilson, his companion on the trip to Britain, about the financial side of political life. Back came the sound advice: âSecure a handsome independence first
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