“I don’t plan on voting; not personally. It’s my right as a British subject not to vote,” Peter shrugged. At Chateau Laurier, Peter and Aubrey were having tea and walnut cake.
Queen Victoria enjoyed dining at her palaces. Her son preferred to dine publicly. The first grand era of restaurants was ushered into being. Females were banned from bars and could only eat in the upstairs of restaurants.
“I won’t either. The day before that mock parliament bit at Winnipeg’s Walker theatre, the Premier of Manitoba told those suffragettes himself, ‘Take it from me, Ms. McClung; nice women don’t want the vote,’” Aubrey quoted agreeably.
Once more, much had changed in the dominion in recent months. Autumn saw Parliament fall into dissolution. The gerrymander that Borden conspired would not be paralleled again in Canadian history. Countrymen, aristocratic and poor, felt superb agreement to defend their country. Which country to defend was causing fault lines that were ever fracturing. To vote Union proved one agreed with the effort, conscription, and the unwavering fight to wrest victory from a foe that now included French Canada. To cast a ballot against Union showed cowardice led by the Kaiser, Laurier, and Bourassa.
By law, soldiers were disallowed to vote during wartime. The newly enacted Military Voters Act gave all men in uniform the vote, including British-born service men.
Those born in enemy countries were denied the vote who had moved to Canada since 1902 and whose mother language, regardless of year of immigration, was of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
Government made hushed affair permitting Bluebirds to be the first women allowed the federal vote. Solely “Patriotic women” were franchised. Next-of-kin women were given the right because allowing military relatives the vote was morally correct. This amendment concerned all females who had an immediate relative, excluding nurses, fighting overseas. Considerably more English than French females were given the franchise. Quebec Members of Parliament were outraged at females being given the right in the first place. The exceedingly conservative province vocalized complete lack of propriety at the very idea.
Quebec received all scabs imaginable. Much to the dislike of generals, posters changed to Quebec must not rule of all of Canada, A vote for Laurier is a vote for Bourassa is a vote for the Kaiser, and Who would the Kaiser vote for? Liberal or Union? Laurier-Bourassa Reign of Terror, ran the headline of the Halifax Herald.
The front pages of Quebec newspapers were ceaseless with their language and culture being barred from Ontario Schools. With the Infamous Regulation 17 at the forefront, political meetings in Quebec saw more unsettlements, disturbances, and riots than history would write of any other election for the province. Management became well-nigh impossible at city council meetings. Politicians hands became bloodied as they pounded their fists on desks, attempting to control crowds. Brawls became commonplace. Government responded by outlawing disturbances at political meetings. Widespread public disapproval of the duration saw police dispatched regularly by mayors to dissolve such happenings. Across the province, brutality was habitually found at enlistment assemblies, which were often times hastily made to cease.
In English Canada, soldiers on leave would disallow Liberal candidates to speak at public events. For the initial time since war started, coverage of the effort moved from the front pages. The looming election and conscription were now at the forefront of discussion.
The masses said conscription was largely unnecessary; the 5th Division had been assembled for two years already and could be sent across the Channel. Others stated the unfairness of making those serve who had service members currently fighting. Families who did not have any relations serving should be made to go. Conscripts were made to register the day Passchendaele ended.
The large electric sign mounted atop Chateau Laurier read, “Buy Victory Bonds.” The fourth of what had come to be called “Victory” loans was an attestation to honour and patriotism. Bonds were bought in the millions in the dominion. Auré said he would match dollar for dollar what Ottawa raised for the Patriotic Fund during the month of November to let the boys know Ottawa was still thinking of them. Newspapers abounded across the main seating area at Chateau Laurier. The casualties of Passchendaele seemed well-nigh endless. Most present were in discussion of the political landscape. The Lutheran and Catholic vote and the German vote were deeply analyzed by eligible Canadians. The Daughters of the Empire meeting had adjourned. Over the previous year, they had fundraised a Naval ship, a hospital wing, and several motorized ambulances.
The women, lifted by elevator to the main floor, walked past Aubrey and Peter. Chit-chattering amongst themselves, they discussed the weekly meeting: “Resoluteness considered of, firstly, loyalty to King and Queen and Empire. Secondly, of prayer that, ‘money, labour, and service be conscripted of every man and woman, so that all may equally do their duty to their King, country and Empire.’” All wore their organization’s insignia. Attached to their Daughters of the Empire badge were service bars. A blue bar was worn for a husband, red for a son, and white for a daughter in uniform. Every member had at minimum one bar tied to her badge. A number wore all three or several bars and many wore mourning crepe.
Henrietta was pocketing her Card of Honour from the Canadian Field Comforts Commission. She had been commended upon knitting her 100th pair of socks. The Ottawa branch was modeling their latest campaign after Newfoundland’s branch. Newfoundland had a drive where six pairs of socks were knit for each son in uniform. Other armies willingly bought the much sought after sock from the Regiment. The Women’s Patriotic Association on the island were given awards for their grey knits and took great satisfaction, although maybe with slight exaggeration, in creating the level of excellence for the Empire’s military socks.
Owing to the fact that intercourse was largely thought to be a compulsory physical act for males, Canadian High Command made contraceptives legal a number of years into the war. Also allowed were “Maisons des tolerances,” or brothels. Nurses were not permitted in the separate venereal disease hospitals due to the category of the illness.
The military attempted to control the alarmingly high cases of venereal diseases. Docking pay was a minor deterrent for troops who became infected. More grievously, letters to wives of the afflicted soldiers, detailing their husband’s sexually contracted condition and therefore unfaithfulness, were also used as means to halt the growing epidemic. Government quickly ended the severe punishment, due to the number of suicides by the recipients of the official documentation.
Aubrey had the envelope in hand. She wondered if she would receive a similar missive. The War Office letter to Mrs. Neville Smith, explaining Mr. Smith’s sexually contracted disease, had been mistakenly delivered to Pembina. The Harrington’s estate bordered the far edge of Pembina. The late Mr. Smith, a pilot, had been introduced to Henrietta by Hugh when all of them were on leave in England. After Smith’s commanding officer’s approval of the match, Smith made Henrietta his wife six months after their introduction. She had become his widow immediately after losing Hugh. Aubrey was not unsure Henrietta was sleeping with Auré. How degrading: he prefers an industrialist’s daughter to me, thought Aubrey. Peter suggested giving Henrietta the letter to show her who was the superior lady.
A smiling Aubrey went over to the group of ladies.
“Killed in action. Beloved daughter of Angus and Mary Maud MacDonald. Brantford154—” Henrietta trailed off, speaking to the member next to her as Aubrey came up to them.
“Do please excuse me, Mrs. Smith. This letter was brought to Pembina quite mistakenly. Unfortunately, I opened the post, as I did not read the address on the envelope first. Naturally, I thought it addressed to me. I hope you can excuse the misunderstanding. I did not read further than ‘Dear Mrs. Smith.’” Tears started falling down Henrietta’s cheeks as her husband’s last letter, supposed lost, had been found. “May his reward be as great as his sacrifice155,” offered Aubrey in false condolence. Aubrey would never forget the gratefulness shown in Henrietta’s eyes before she turned and hurried away. The sound of Henrietta’s wailing from the powder room was reminiscent of a puppy that was stepped on by a thoroughbred at Pembina and left to die a slow, torturous death.