The Women of Confederation

Canadian women from 1865-1900

Category: Lady Dufferin

Crowning Glories

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.”
Brothers Grimm

Looking at pictures of Agnes Macdonald, Lady Dufferin, and other Confederation women, how can one not notice the hair? These women’s hairstyles are astonishing!

Agnes_hair Agnes in 1873 with elegant updo. Source: Library and Archives Canada.

 

Dufferin_hairLady Dufferin wearing a similarly intricate hairstyle. Source: Manitoba Archives.

Isn’t that something? How long did it take to put together those styles?

Quite a while, I should think. Just take a look at the first few steps for creating an updo in the following instructions.

Hair-instructions

Going to Great Length

Canada’s women of Confederation wore large and elaborate hairstyles. (They may have been taking their cue from their American neighbours, where hairstyles had been quite plain during the Civil War era – often simply parted in the middle and pulled back – but had also gotten larger in the course of the 1860s.) It looks as though a mass of hair was needed to put together those styles, and often the women did indeed have very long hair.

Aline_Vallandri Soprano Aline Vallandri with floor-length hair.

Vallandri, in an interview for Every Woman’s Encyclopedia described as “the famous Cantatrice, who has the Most Wonderful Hair in Europe,” advised women similarly endowed to keep hair and scalp clean, but also “to avoid any excessive use of water.” Instead, she suggested “much brushing” – a practice religiously followed by women of the time – and to avoid curling tongs but to massage the head regularly. She also endorsed “cutting the hair and singeing the ends with a lighted taper [as] beneficial for the growth.”

It’s fairly obvious from Vallandri’s picture that she grew her hair all her life, and that was standard practice for Victorian women. Never mind that the sheer weight of the hair must have given them constant headaches! Hair was considered the “crowning glory” of a woman’s beauty. It was also an indicator of social class – no working woman could afford to fuss with her hair for an hour before going off to scrub floors – and of maturity. In public, only young girls wore their hair loose or in braids. Adult and married women wore it pinned up. No exceptions. Letting her hair down, literally, signified privacy and intimacy.

“Fare Thee Well, My Beloved Friend”

Another common practice was the exchange of locks of hair for sentimental reasons. In a time when travelling to see friends or relatives who had moved elsewhere wasn’t nearly as easy as it is today, and when, frankly, life expectancies were shorter and mortality rates higher, locks of hair were mementos – literally a piece – of someone loved and perhaps lost.

In L. M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables (published in 1908 but steeped in Victorian culture), Anne asks her bosom friend Diana for “a lock of [her] jet-black tresses in parting to treasure forevermore,” when the girls believe that they are never to meet again. Anne intends to sew the lock of hair up “in a little bag and wear it around [her] neck all her life” (110, 111). She intends the lock of hair, in other words, to be an instrument for remembrance.

Little Helpers

Masses of hair might have been nice, but not everyone had them. Fake stuff to the rescue!

Elaborate_hairstyle

The appearance of luxuriant, thick, long hair could also be achieved with the use of fillers (also called “rats”) and multiple hair pieces. For instance, if the woman’s own hair was heat-damaged – the Marcel wave that relied on curling irons was invented in 1872, and curls supposedly indicated a milder, sweeter temperament – fillers and hair pieces could be deployed to create the volume and height essential for the era’s elaborate styles.

hairstyle_backview

Not ratty

Hair rats could be made from a woman’s own hair.

Hairreceiver Source: Jackie Hyman

Hair receivers (ceramic or crystal) were commonly found in women’s boudoirs. Stray hairs were collected from the brush after brushing and put through the receiver’s opening for storage. Once sufficient hair had accumulated, it was rolled by hand into a tight sausage shape. The natural hair was then arranged over it and secured with pins. Voilà ! Great style.

Hairdresses (here with velvet pansies), hair wreath (with forget-me-nots), combs and pins were also used in creating the period’s styles.

Headdress

Hair_wreath

Hairpin

The Power of Hair

Toward the end of the Victorian era, the Delineator, a popular American women’s magazine read and appreciated also by Canada’s women of Confederation, summed up the importance of women’s attention to their hair as follows:

“A potent factor in any woman‘s appearance is her coiffure. Indeed, no other item of her toilette is really so influential, either to emphasize or to lessen her natural attractiveness, since no fashion is so capable of affecting the actual expression of her countenance as is one that pertains to the arrangement of the hair. The often-admired ‘crowning glory’ may be rendered almost a disfigurement if disposed unbecomingly, while a tasteful and careful dressing of the tresses, even though they are not very beautiful, will lend a decided charm to a plain face.”

Fashions are subject to change, but the complexity of Confederation women’s hairstyles is another indicator of the (self-)discipline that was part of their lives.

___________________________________

Works Cited

Every Woman’s Encyclopedia. https://archive.org/stream/everywomansencyc07londuoft/everywomansencyc07londuoft_djvu.txt, accessed November 2, 2014.

“Fashionable Hair Dressing.” Delineator, December 1894.

Montgomery, Lucy Maud. Anne of Green Gables. New York and London: W.W. Norton Critical, 2007.

 

Diplomatic Lady

“She was a shy woman.”
Harold Nicholson about Lady Dufferin

In July 1872, a new wind began to blow in Ottawa that swept though all of Canada – which had grown to span the continent from coast to coast – and that emanated from Rideau Hall. Between 1867 and 1872, during the tenures of governors general Lords Monck and Lisgar, official Ottawa had been quite informal, according to contemporary sources (though Agnes Macdonald had found Lady Lisgar a bit chintzy). All that changed when the Dufferins arrived, who brought to Canada a grand social energy that bestowed a sparkle on the rough new Dominion it had not had before.

As the new governor general’s consort, Lady Dufferin – Hariot Georgina Rowan Hamilton – was not ‘Canadian’ but a diplomat’s wife, yet her interest and influence in Canada make her a Woman of Confederation. (Canadian citizenship, in any case, did not exist then; ‘Canadians,’ like the Dufferins, were British subject.)

Dufferin Source: New York City Public Library.

Falling in Love with Ottawa

Lady Dufferin, born in 1843 in a Norman castle in Northern Ireland and nurtured in grand estates, found that rough little Ottawa, and Canada, “agreed with her” (S. Gwyn, Private Capital 163). Following his stint in Ottawa, Lord Dufferin, with Hariot by his side, went on to a splendid career, serving as ambassador to St. Petersburg, Constantinople, Rome, and Paris, and as viceroy in India, the jewel in the imperial crown, yet of all these postings, it was Canada that captured Lady Dufferin’s heart.

Her stay in Ottawa started ominously. After landing in Quebec, and immediately being “charmed” by the city and everything else she saw en route to the capital (Dufferin 3), she found that the “first sight of Rideau Hall did lower our spirits.” The access road to the building was “rough and ugly” and the house itself “at the land’s end” and without a view (4). Not twelve hours later, however, Lady Dufferin had already cheered up: “I dare say that in winter this place looks lovely! Our house is, they say, very warm and comfortable, and the Houses of Parliament which, after all, I do see from my windows are very beautiful … so why did I grumble? We have driven in state through the town, and have visited the Government buildings. I was delighted with the Senate, and with the Library, a large, circular room. When the House is sitting I may come and listen to debates” (4).

Political Observer

And that is exactly what she did. Like Agnes Macdonald before her, Lady Dufferin was a regular visitor to the Ladies’ Gallery in the House, actively following Canadian politics and staying, if necessary, into the early hours of the morning. She gained a reputation for animatedly reporting the proceedings to her husband (who by law was prevented from attending the debates to ensure his non-partisanship), and even acting out the speeches and gestures of individual speakers.

DufferinsLord and Lady Dufferin.

She immersed herself in Canadian life, doing charitable work and organizing amateur theatre – she herself was an enthusiastic actress – that had a “galvanic effect” on Ottawa and “spread through the town like a wild-fire” (S. Gwyn, Private Capital 174). She also threw more parties and travelled further and wider in Canada than any woman in her position had done before, ever “impatient to see more of the country and the people” (8-9). She was the first Governor General’s consort to accompany her husband on his tours.

Travel, Travel, and More Travel

Looking back to the 1870s from our current perspective, one has to admire the stamina needed to undertake all those voyages at a time when travel was anything but fast and easy. In 1872, Lady Dufferin visited Quebec and Tadoussac (where the Dufferins chose to build a summer house) as well as Toronto and Hamilton. In 1873, while pregnant with their sixth child, she went to Montreal as well as, after the birth of a daughter in May, to the Maritimes, celebrating in Charlottetown Prince Edward Island’s entry into Confederation.

In 1874, while Lady Dufferin was pregnant again (with their seventh and last child), she toured Ontario, delighting in rustic accommodations and tents “spread with fir-boughs, which are laid down most carefully and scientifically by the men, and make a most delightful carpet and spring mattress” (168). In 1876, the Dufferins went to British Columbia, having to rely on American rail lines (Canada’s Pacific Railway was far from completed), and in 1877 they toured Manitoba, also accessible only by American rail (and boat). Before departing Canada in 1878, they squeezed in a trip to the Eastern Townships. Just about everywhere she went, Lady Dufferin enjoyed the beautiful scenery and pleasant, friendly people. The very air she found “delicious,” feeling overall “so well and cheerful!” (12).

The Joys of Winter

Even Ottawa’s cold climate, though warranting several entries in Lady Dufferin’s journal and thus apparently a matter of some concern, did not really put her off. On one occasion she wrote, “the thermometer was 10 below zero, but the day was bright, and we did not feel the cold at all” (49). One simply “wraps oneself up like a mummy,” she declared, “and drapes one’s face in an indispensable and most becoming cloud [a long wool scarf draped round and round], and thus defies the weather” (127). Her winter-hardiness alone should make us conclude that “Lady Dufferin is one of us” (Fowler 218).

Dufferin_cloud Lady Dufferin wearing a ‘cloud.’

In later life, she suffered a series of heavy blows. Her eldest son was killed in the Boer War, another in WWI, and her third son died in an accident in 1930; her husband died in 1902, having lost his entire fortune. She lived until 1936.

A Sense of Duty

The woman that emerges from Lady Dufferin’s Canadian Journal, though, is one that impresses through its enthusiasm, optimism, sheer physical health and vigor, vivacity, and the ability to have fun. That she was prepared to be such a public persona (not just accompanying her husband but occasionally also filling in for him) is all the more remarkable as she was, at heart, private. The mark she left on Canada – through involvement in politics, federal-provincial relations, social and creative activities – is a measure, therefore, not just of her lively interest in the Dominion, but also of her sense of responsibility and duty.

 

___________________________________

Works Cited

Dufferin and Ava, The Marchioness of. My Canadian Journal. London: John Murray, 1891.

Fowler, Marian. The Embroidered Tent: Five Gentlewomen in Early Canada. Toronto: Anansi, 1982.

Gwyn, Sandra. The Private Capital: Ambition and Love in the Age of Macdonald and Laurier. Toronto: Harper and Collins, 1984. Print.