Canadian Social History

During World War II, Canadian women made significant contributions to the war effort on the military, industrial, and home fronts.  As historian Ruth Roach Pierson notes, “three services of the Armed Forces were opened to women” and “an unprecedented proportion of women left the domestic sphere to enter public employment and service.”  However, while massive war mobilization engaged women at unprecedented levels, the involvement of women in what were regarded untraditional gender roles caused discomfort amongst both Canadians and in particular the government.  Interestingly, in parallel to massive mobilization, the Canadian government initiated a propaganda campaign.  Central to this propaganda campaign were posters.  Inexpensive to produce, print, and distribute within a short period of time, the government also discovered that posters could convey messages to the general public more strongly and effectively than the written or spoken word alone.  Indeed, despite being essentially ephemeral objects, government-issued posters actually witnessed sustained exposure and heightened significance during wartime.  However, these posters were more than mere battle-cries to rally the troops.  Rather, these posters focused on traditional representations of masculinity and femininity.  As such, I would argue that posters became a means for the government to alleviate the concerns over the involvement of women in the war effort.  Instead of reflecting the reality of massive mobilization, these posters depicted traditional gender roles as the foundation for the war effort.  In this post, I will analyze the specific elements of these posters, focusing in particular on how concepts of masculinity and femininity were constructed.  Second, I will also explore how masculine and feminine characterizations and representations defined traditional gender, gender roles, and gender relations.  And finally, I will conclude with an analysis of how successful these posters were in alleviating the challenge to traditional gender roles caused by massive mobilization.

Visual Images and Historians

As visual historian Joshua Brown notes, “Our consciousness of the past is inextricably bound by pictures.”  However, a general overview of historiography reveals that historians deem pictures (whether they be illustrations or posters) inferior to the written or spoken word.  Indeed, most scholarly work fundamentally focuses on textual or oral based primary sources to provide evidential support to an argument.  And while on the occasion pictures are used, the main purpose is to supplement the historian’s existing thesis rather than being the central tenet to the argument.  I would argue that such a scholarly approach is a mistake.  Pictures, such as wartime posters, can provide historians a different insight than those of textual or oral based primary sources.  Pictures are a powerful medium that engage people differently than text or spoken word alone.  As such, an analysis of a picture can provide a new perspective previously unseen when solely relying on textual or spoken evidence.  But what should a historian do when analyzing a picture?

Analyzing Pictures – A Process

To analyze a picture is to start a process of asking specific questions about the presented image.  When analyzing wartime posters, start with questioning the actions of those in the poster.  For example, what is the main actor of the poster doing?  And what are the figures in the background doing?  The type of artwork used in the poster should also be considered.  Is the poster a pen or an ink drawing?  Is the image a photograph?  Despite being fundamentally image-based, wartime posters also contained text or cutlines.  A historian needs to ask what these cutlines say/mean?  In addition, historians should understand how the typeface used in cutlines influenced the message of the poster.  Of course, these wartime posters were created as propaganda, and as such the symbols and myths portrayed in the poster become important elements to understanding the message that is being conveyed.  By asking these questions, we can develop a fuller understanding of wartime posters and their influence on Canadian society.

Construction of Masculinity and Femininity

By applying this methodology, it becomes more apparent how the concepts of masculinity and femininity were  constructed in wartime posters.  For example, masculinity was characterized as courageous, heroic, fearless, honourable, and overwhelmingly patriotic.  In the “Let’s Go Canada!” poster (see figure 1), the main actor is a male soldier who is holding a bayonet and charging into war.  Behind the soldier is the union flag and on the soldier’s uniform is a badge with the word Canada emblazoned.  The image of a male soldier charging into war for Canada also appears in the “Canada’s New Army Needs Men Like You” poster (see figure 2).  This time, the soldier rides into battle on a motorbike, both a symbol of modernity (underlined by the cutline “Canada’s New Army”) and of physical power (the motorbike and its rider are depicted as muscle-bound with the strength to overpower the land – a clear attempt to address the concerns around the futility of no-mans land that demoralized soldiers in World War I).  The poster also depicts the mythology of the honourable and courageous male soldier, shadowing the motorbike is a medieval knight in shining armour gallantly riding horseback into battle.

While these posters of male soldiers combined patriotism with masculine characteristics of duty, strength, and fearlessness, posters that focused on women, characterized the relationship between femininity and patriotism as the polar opposite.  For example, in the poster “Keep these hands off! Buy Victory Bonds” (see figure 3), rather than fearlessly fighting the enemy, a mother and her child are depicted as vulnerable and weak in the face of the enemy.  In this poster, the artwork is crucial to understanding the message being conveyed.  The main female character, the mother, is drawn in soft tones implying a gentleness.  The child she is holding, also drawn in soft tones, is a newborn baby sucking on a pacifier.  In contrast, the enemy is portrayed as grotesque hands ready to snatch away the baby from the grasp of its mother.  As such, in this poster femininity is defined as nurturing and motherly, while at the same time vulnerable and weak.

Polar Opposites

Indeed, the polar opposite representation of the fighting male soldier and the vulnerable female mother can be seen as part of a larger attempt to use traditional characterizations of masculinity and femininity to define gender roles and gender relations on both the front line and the home front.  For example, posters such as “Whatever your job may be: Fight” (see figure 4) emphasized how the traditional role of men as breadwinners translated into soldiers fighting on the front line.  While posters such as “Your Shopping Basket Savings, Save More to Lend More” (see figure 5) stressed the importance of women as traditional housewives and frugal consumers, a role that supported the war effort on the home front.  Significantly, these posters also emphasized traditional gender relations.  As the poster “Until He Comes Back! Buy Victory Bonds” (see figure 6) illustrates, the role of the woman was to dutifully wait as a wife and mother until her husband returned from war.  In this poster, the husband is depicted in military uniform, his portrait framed on the wall behind his wife and child, symbolizing him as the head of the household.  Beneath the framed picture, is his wife and child, thinking about him and seemingly writing letters of support to him.

The Power of War Posters

So how successful were these posters in alleviating the challenge to traditional gender roles caused by massive mobilization?  As Ruth Roach Pierson notes, the mobilization of women for the war effort “was a clear case of state management of ‘human resources’.”  However, this management of “human resources” which seemingly had the potential to revolutionize gender roles in Canada failed.  As Roach Pierson adds; “The massive mobilization of women during the war years thus failed to secure them a genuinely equal place in the postwar public world.”  Indeed, after the war, “the older woman, the deserted wife or mother, or the woman whose husband earned too little or had no job remained in precarious positions.”  Despite the involvement of women in the military, industrial and home fronts, Canadian society returned to the gendered traditions depicted in wartime posters.  In fact, as Kristin Hulme notes in a recent study on women in the trades and industrial occupations, women today still “continue to be excluded from the trades and industrial occupations because of their gendered nature.”

Conclusion

In conclusion, while massive mobilization caused concern over the increasing involvement of women in untraditional gender roles, the Canadian government alleviated these concerns by using propaganda posters that depicted traditional gender roles as the foundation for the war effort.  I believe that historians asking why a gender revolution did not occur in post war Canada should analyze these propaganda posters to provide an answer.  Just as the wartime posters depicted Canadian success in the war based on traditional gender roles, notably Canadian society returned to traditional gender roles post war as if the contribution of women to the war effort was an apparition.  As such, rather than treat posters as supplementary evidence to support an argument, I believe historians should analyze wartime posters to understand gender, gender roles, and gender relations in Canadian society.

References

Ruth Roach Pierson, Canadian Women and the Second World War, Canadian Historical Association Booklet, No. 37 (Ottawa: 1983), 4, 26.

Joshua Brown, “Forum: History and the Web: From the Illustrated Newspaper to Cyberspace: Visual Technologies and Interaction in the Nineteenth and Twenty-First Centuries,” Rethinking History, 8:2 (2004), 253.

James W. Cook, “Seeing the Visual in U.S. History,” The Journal of American History, 95:2 (2008), 434.

James N. Druckman, “The Power of Television Images: The First Kennedy-Nixon Debate Revisited,” Journal of Politics, 65:2 (2003), 559-571.

Robert C. Williams, The Historian’s Toolbox: A Student’s Guide to the Theory and Craft of History (London: M.E. Sharpe, 2007), 164-165.

Kristin Hulme, “Making the Shift from Pink Collars to Blue Ones: Women’s Non-Traditional Occupations,” Labour/Le Travail, 57 (Spring 2006), 165.

Appendix

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In 1987, Denise Chong and her mother took a trip to China and the village of her grandfather’s birth.  There, in her grandfather’s house, Chong found a few treasured relics and photographs as well as a small packet of letters written by her grandfather to his wife and son in China. These letters would prove to be the inspiration for the book The Concubine’s Children: The Story of a Family Living on Two Sides of the Globe.  In The Concubine’s Children, Denise Chong uncovers a family history that emanates from the decision of her grandfather, Chan Sam, to leave his wife in China and migrate to “Gold Mountain” – North America.  This detailed and often complex family history raises a fundamental question about whether the lives of immigrants, such as Chan Sam, were shaped more by new or old world influences.  While the argument could be made for either/or, I would argue that historians should take the approach of studying the interplay of both new and old world influences in shaping the lives of immigrants such as Chan Sam.  As such, in this post I will explore Chan Sam’s life, analyzing how old and new world influences played off each other to forge a transnational duality that neither Chan Sam nor Denise Chong’s family could ever escape.  In doing so, I will analyze the push and pull factors behind Chan Sam’s initial decision to migrate and explore how those factors continued to frame Chan Sam’s life.  I will conclude with an analysis of whether Chan Sam’s experience was atypical for Chinese immigrants in Canada or whether historians should view immigrant history through the same lens of transnational flux that Chan Sam viewed his life.

Push and pull

Analyzing the causation factors behind migration to Canada creates an important vantage point from which historians should start exploring the influence of old and new worlds on each other.  In the case of Chan Sam, we see a path to Gold Mountain previously forged by an earlier generation combining with the pressure of contemporary push and pull factors to shape his decision to leave China.  As Chong notes, “those who could raise money did what their fathers had once done and went abroad.”  The push of instability in China meant “some sojourned in Hong Kong, some in southeast Asia. Others, like Chan Sam, chose Gold Mountain.”  For Chan Sam, the pull factors focused on financial opportunities, especially the earning potential in the new world in comparison to the old.

Old World and New World Links

However, rather than separating Chan Sam from the influence of the old world and launching him into the sphere of the new world, these push and pull factors illustrate how closely the two worlds were linked.  In fact, old and new worlds coexisted as building blocks for Chan Sam and his family.  Before leaving China, Chan Sam promised to maintain a relationship with his homeland, telling his wife “that he would struggle and save, that he would remit enough to cover her expenses at home.”  Chan Sam also pledged “to return before too many years for a visit, and one day, to come home for good.”

Interestingly these same push and pull factors would forge a platform from which Chan Sam would steer the rest of his life.  The financial pull of the new world with the possibility of earning more in a day in Canada than a month in China, created a cultural discourse that Chan Sam psychologically brought into and in fact perpetuated.  As Chong writes, “to have money sent from China to Canada would have unraveled Chan Sam’s reputation, built upon years of exile from his homeland, as a provider for his family.”  Chong adds, “Chan Sam did not even consider the possibility of turning around and going back [to China].”  Even so, Chan Sam did not turn his back on China completely.  At times, Chan Sam did return to visit his home village to build upon his reputation and legacy.  Notably, the visits were always temporary in nature, with Chan Sam conscious of keeping the door open for a return to Canada.  Chong writes that on an extended visit home Chan Sam “did not want to jeopardize his chances of reentry by staying away any longer than he had to.”  Chong adding that with the treat of all-out war and economic chaos in China, Chan Sam knew “his best prospects remained in Canada.”

Family History in Perspective

As with all family histories, Chan Sam’s story is highly personalized.  However, as historians should we frame Chan Sam’s experience as atypical for Chinese immigrants or does Denise Chong’s family history have wider implications?  Interestingly, Paul Yee’s article, “Business Devices from Two Worlds: The Chinese in early Vancouver,” suggests a commonality between Chan Sam’s experience and that other Chinese immigrants.  As Yee notes, like Chan Sam, most Chinese that migrated were “chiefly motivated by economic aspirations.”  Significantly, Yee’s article goes on to suggest a commonality between the old and new worlds.  Yee writes that, “immigrant adjustment is profoundly affected by the similarity of culture and institutions in both Old and New Worlds, and the early Chinese settlers in Canada arrived with values and skills highly compatible with the industrial capitalism then gripping North America.”  As such, this compatibility suggests the need not to separate the influence of old and new worlds, but to see the common links and exchanges between them.

Conclusion

In conclusion, returning to the initial question of whether Denise Chong’s family history was shaped more by new world or old world influences.  For a historian, to answer this question with an either “more” or “less” approach is problematic.  I would argue that such an approach negates the tension at the heart of this family history and of immigration history as a whole.  Rather than a “more” or “less” answer, as historians we should analyze how the dynamic interplay of new and old world influences helped shape not only Denise Chong’s family history but of immigration history.  New and old world influences should not be separated, but rather be understood in the context of the duality that many immigrants such as Chan Sam navigated their often fluid lives within.

References

Denise Chong, The Concubine’s Children: The Story of a Family Living on Two Sides of the Globe (Toronto: Penguin Books, 2006), ix, 20, 55, 95.

Paul Yee, “Business Devices from Two Worlds: The Chinese in Early Vancouver,” BC Studies, 62 (Summer 1984), 44-45, 63.

On April 16, 1911, in Sault Ste Marie, Angelina Napolitano killed her husband, Pietro, with an axe.  In the article, “Murder, Womanly Virtue and Motherhood: The Case of Angelina Napolitano, 1911-1922,” historians Karen Dubinsky and Franca Iacovetta explore the causes behind the murder, the resulting trial, and its fallout.  In doing so, Dubinsky and Iacovetta argue that “the social meanings attached to the woman’s life, and especially her crime, were profoundly shaped by prevailing assumptions about gender, race, and class.”  Dubinsky and Iacovetta draw this conclusion by taking what could be categorized as a “gender history” approach to their subject.  But what is gender history and how does it differ from women’s history?

Gender History vs Women’s History

Gender history while looking to understand the experience of women does so by emphasizing the interconnectedness and complexity of multiple categories such as gender, class, and race/ethnicity.  This differs from women’s history where the focus has been on understanding the historical role and identity of women as women.  As such, gender history, while being relatively new, has undoubtedly changed the historiography in regards to studying women.  I believe that the main reason behind the historiographical shift is the methodology driving gender history.  A gender history approach reframes our understanding the role of gender in constructing race/ethnicity and class identities.  This reframing, in turn, allows historians to explore the gendered nature of society.  For example, Dubinsky and Iacovetta in their article, analyze the ethnic/racial and immigrant background of Angelina Napolitano in relation to her gender.  While Dubinsky and Iacovetta note that “Napolitano was an atypical victim of abuse,” they argue that the resulting trial and subsequent social fallout, “sheds light on situations that, to varying degrees, many more immigrant and non-immigrant women faced during the period.”   In fact, as Dubinsky and Iacovetta saliently observe, their method of historical analysis not only helps understand the experience of women, their analysis also “contributes to the literature on immigration and to studies of racial ethnic prejudice.”

Domestic Violence

In this post, I will explore Dubinsky and Iacovetta article, analyzing the strengths and weaknesses of gender history in studying the history of women.  Firstly, I would argue that by employing a gender history approach, Dubinsky and Iacovetta help reveal how gender-based ideologies are constructed.  They do so by considering the “theme of domestic violence.”  Through exploring this theme, Dubinsky and Iacovetta reveal “the varied meanings contemporaries attached to more general notions of marriage, womanhood, and motherhood, and to women who act as agents.”   However, in revealing how gender-based ideologies are constructed, Dubinsky and Iacovetta focus less on femininity and rather instead stress more the importance of males and masculinity in the lives of women such as Angelina Napolitano.  This, in turn, raises fundamental questions about the future direction of gender history and candidly asks how far away from the traditional emphasis of women’s history is too far.

Gendering class

Unquestionable, nevertheless is the significance of Dubinsky and Iacovetta’s article in broadening our understanding of the relationship between gender, class, and race/ethnicity.  The strength of the article stems from the way gender history offers multidimensional perspectives that ultimately produce new and fascinating directions for further study.  For example, Dubinsky and Iacovetta look to place the actions of Angelina Napolitano in a socio-economic context by analyzing class in relation to gender.  Firstly, they describe the deterioration of the Napolitano marriage “against a backdrop of acute financial insecurity and Pietro’s deepening sense of failure as the family’s chief breadwinner.”  By viewing this sense of failure, through a lens of what I would call “gendering class,” Dubinsky and Iacovetta are able to argue convincingly that, “[Pietro’s] crisis in masculinity appears to have been triggered by his inability to purchase a family home and manifested itself in bouts of drunkenness and increasingly cruel behavior towards his wife.”

Gender and race/ethnicity

Dubinsky and Iacovetta’s analysis of race/ethnicity and gender paints a similar picture, emphasizing the centrality of stereotypical male traits in understanding the social depiction of Italian immigrants.  Dubinsky and Iacovetta first note how Italians were “treated as a highly suspect group prone to drink, overly sexual, and highly excitable and temperamental.”  They then argue that these stereotypes when viewed through a gendered lens illustrate how contemporaries held “deep-seated concerns about the sexual threats that men, especially foreign men, posed to women.”  These connections between race/ethnicity and gender are telling, especially in the example of the Napolitano case where Dubinsky and Iavocetta note how “Pietro Napolitano provided a fitting villain: the ‘foreigner’ who preyed on women’s bodies.”

Conclusion

So what can we conclude from Dubinsky and Iacovetta’s article?  What are the strengths and what are the weaknesses of gender history when studying the history of women?  Firstly, we need to understand the methodology involved in writing gender history.  The emphasis on the interconnectedness of categories such as class and race/ethnicity arguably pushes the role of males and masculinity onto centre stage.  Is this a weakness when studying the history of women.  Perhaps, as seemingly this marginalizes the role of women in historical analysis.  However, I would suggest that by emphasizing the role of males and masculinity, we can begin to understand the power dynamics that women such as Angelina Napolitano faced.  The actions of Angelina Napolitano, although murderous, suggest an attempt confront the unequal gendered world she lived in.  As such, I would argue that future historians of gender should seek a balance between the working of masculinity as well as femininity.

References

Karen Dubinsky and Franca Iacovetta, “Murder, Womanly Virtue, and Motherhood: The Case of Angelina Napolitano, 1911-1922,” Canadian Historical Review, LXXII:4 (1991), 506, 507, 508, 509, 518, 522, 523.

In Homeland to Hinterland, Gerhard Ens argues that the Riel Resistance of 1869-1870 should be understood as “an expression of ‘interest group’ or even of ‘class’ politics.” (Ens, 123)  According to Ens, this expression stemmed from how the Metis were increasingly differentiated on the basis of occupation and economic interest.  “These economic and occupational divisions,” Ens states, “affected the response of the various Metis groups to Confederation with Canada, and to the Riel Resistance of 1869-70.” (Ens, 123)  Looking to frame his understanding of the Riel Resistance of 1869-70 in a larger context, Ens turns to the transformation of the Metis economy during the period 1840-70, noting how economic changes “brought several social and political changes to the Red River Settlement.” (Ens, 123)  The catalyst for these economic changes was the emergence of competitive markets during the 1840s.  According to Ens, these competitive markets established “a new context for the Red River region,” in that the Metis became more closely integrated into North America’s emerging capitalist system. (Ens, 5)  As Ens notes, the penetration of the Northwest by American and Canadian markets “increasingly integrated Metis labour, Metis production, and Metis property into the realm of capital.” (Ens, 6)  The process of this integration began to shape the identity of the Metis.  So much so, that Ens argues that “Metis identity was not defined by biology, blood, or religion, but rather by the economic and social niche they carved out for themselves within the fur trade.” (Ens, 4)  As such, Ens concludes that Riel’s efforts during 1869-70, were “an attempt to reconstruct a Metis identity in political or constitutional terms as its social and economic bases were eroding.” (Ens, 4)

Historiography

While Ens presents a convincing argument for the affect of economic transformation on the events of the Riel Resistance of 1869-70, I would argue that an explanation of the that solely rests on identity being based on a “socio-economic niche” is problematic.  As Ens acknowledges, his study “deals with the social and economic aspects of the Metis identity, rather than the question of racial identity.” (Ens, 8)  Yet, the complexity of the Riel Resistance 1869-70, with the different factions involved suggests a need to examine other factors such as race and religion.  Indeed, the historiography of the Riel Resistance 1869-70 is reflective of these factions.  Saliently, the historiography can be broken down into two broad categories of analysis; one that offers an economic or class explanation, and one that stresses a racial and/or religious cultural explanation.  The intention of this essay is to explore this historiography, comparing and analyzing the contrasting economic and cultural explanations of the Riel Resistance of 1869-70.  In doing so, I will conclude with a synthesis of the historiography that suggests a new approach to understanding the Riel Resistance of 1869-70 should emphasis the need to analyze the interplay of class, race, and religion in shaping Metis identity.

Comparing and contrasting economic and cultural explanations

Before proposing a synthesis, it is necessary to compare and contrast the economic and cultural explanations of the Riel Resistance of 1869-70.  Like Gerhard Ens, historian Frits Pannekoek also frames the Riel Resistance of 1869-70 within a larger context, however, Pannekoek’s focus is on race and religion rather than economic transformation.  In the article “The Rev. Griffiths Own Corbett and the Red River Civil War of 1869-70,” Pannekoek argues that, “Riel resistance was in part caused and certainly exacerbated not by racial and religious antagonisms introduced by the Canadians, but rather by a sectarian and racial conflict with roots deep in Red River’s past.” (Pannekoek, 134)  In another article, “The Anglican Church and the Disintegration of Red River Society, 1818-1870,” Pannekoek explores the sectarian and racial conflict in more detail, writing that “a close examination of Red River society indicates not a community delicately balanced between civilization and barbarism, but a brittle society whose parts were mutually antagonistic, each pitted one against the other.” (Pannekoek, 73)  In fact, Panekoek argues, it was a society in which “white looked down on mixed-blood, Catholic suspected Protestant, Country-born distrusted Metis, and clergymen opposed commissioned gentlemen.” (Pannekoek, 73)

Race and religion

Pannekoek’s picture of a society fragmented by race and religion is analyzed deeper by Sylvia Van Kirk and her study on mixed-blood identity.  In the article “’What if Mama is an Indian?’: The Cultural Ambivalence of the Alexander Ross Family” Van Kirk argues that the Riel Resistance of 1869-70, polarized the Red River settlement into “two elements-white and Metis.” (Van Kirk, 134)  This polarization complicated the position of mixed-blood people in the community.  As Van Kirk notes, the often racist cultural biases of whites within the community “denied to this group the successful integration into white society that they desired.” (Van Kirk, 134)  The result of this denial, according to Van Kirk meant “Anglophone mixed-bloods lacked a distinct cultural identity based on the duality of their heritage.” (Van Kirk, 134)  As Van Kirk concludes, “this made it difficult for them to build upon their uniqueness as a people of mixed racial ancestry.” (Van Kirk, 134)

Anti-climax

For both Pannekoek and Van Kirk, racial and religious identity was pivotal to understanding the Riel Resistance of 1869-70.  However, for Pannekoek, highlighting the importance of racial and religious division within the Red River community can be used to question the significance of the Riel Resistance.  Noting how the Country-born (the English-speaking half-breeds) transferred their allegiance and sympathies to Canada and the Canadians by 1863, Pannekoek argues that the Riel resistance was in fact an “anti-climax.” (Pannekoek, 147)  “Many of the tensions evident during the resistance,” Pannekoek states, “were the result of racial and religious tensions dating back to the 1830s and culminating in 1863.” (Pannekoek, 147)

Class divisions

In response to Pannekoek’s conclusions, Ens argues that an explanation that focuses on racial and religious tensions is unconvincing.  “Aside from the difficulty of accepting that the English Metis were rabidly anti-Catholic, even as they cooperated with the French Metis on biannual buffalo hunts,” Ens writes, “Pannekoek ignored the fact that Riel was also opposed by a significant number of French Metis. Pannekoek’s account, concentrating on two sex scandals occurring in Red River in the 1850s and 1860s, ignored the more prosaic day-to-day existence that properly defined the Metis worlds.” (Ens, 4)  Instead, Ens offers a picture of division based on social class and not race.  Pointing to the significance of the substantial French-Metis opposition to Riel (of the seventy-eight Metis identified as having opposed Riel in 1869-70, more than 60 per cent were French Metis), Ens argues that the conflict was “more than a racial and religious conflict.” (Ens, 126)  Ens concludes that while Pannekoek may be correct in arguing that the Riel Resistance of 1869-70 had roots deep in Red River’s past, “these roots are more identifiable with social and economic antagonisms than racial animosities.” (Ens, 126)

Socio-economic cultural divides

Socio-economic factors are also a reoccurring theme in Irene Spry’s study, “The metis and mixed-bloods of Rupert’s Land.”  However, unlike Ens, Spry focuses on socio-economic factors to stress how economic transformation caused fundamental cultural divide.  For Spry, the Red River settlement had two fundamental divisions.  One division between the “well educated and well-to-do gentry, the officers and retired officers of the Hudson’s Bay Company and those of their progeny,” in contrast to the “mass of unlettered, unpropertied natives of the country.” (Spry, 112)  And the second division between the “sedentary population” and those to whom “the freedom of a wandering life out on the plains was more important than economic security and material comfort.” (Spry, 112)  These divisions demonstrated to Spry that conflict was not between Metis and mixed blood, but between “a wandering, free life and settlement.” (Spry, 113)  In fact, Spry concludes that the “old way of life that both metis and mixed bloods had had in common with their Indian cousins … was doomed with the coming of surveyors, fences, police, organized government, settlers and private rights of property in real estate and natural resources.” (Spry, 113)  And unlike Ens, who saw the Metis integrating with the market, Spry argues that with market forces so “went the prosperity and independence of all but a small elite of metis and mixed-bloods alike.” (Spry, 113)

Synthesis

Arguably Spry’s conclusion encompasses the historiography, in that she frames the Riel Resistance within the context of economic transformation (as Ens), yet at the same time is sensitive to cultural factors (see the approaches of Pannekoek and Van Kirk).  As such, I believe Spry’s work offers us an opportunity to synthesize the historiography.  Fundamentally, while Ens, Pannekoek, and Van Kirk see identity shaped by either/or (socio-economic factors or racial/religious factors), Spry suggests that identity is forged from multiple factors.  In fact, the historiography suggests a need to understand the interplay of these different factors amongst groups and individuals, across time.  Overall, the historiography presents two questions that future historians of the Riel Resistance of 1869-70 need to answer.  First, how does race and religion shape socio-economic factors?  And second, how does socio-economic factors shape racial and religious identity?  Answers to both these questions, I believe would produce a more nuanced understanding of the Riel Resistance of 1869-70 that the current historiography suggests but does not deliver.

References

Gerhard J. Ens, Homeland to Hinterland: The Changing Worlds of the Red River Metis in the Nineteenth Century (Toronto: University of Toronto, 1996)

Frits Pannekoek, “The Anglican Church and the Disintegration of Red River Society, 1818-1870,” in Carl Berger and Ramsay Cook, eds., The West and the Nation: Essays in Honour of W.L. Morton (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1976), pp. 72-90.

Frits Pannekoek, “The Rev Griffiths Owen Corbett and the Red River Civil War of 1869-70,” Canadian Historical Review, Vol. LVIII, No. 2 (June 1976): 133-149.

Irene Spry, “The Metis and Mixed Bloods of Rupert’s Land Before 1870,” in Jacueline Peterson and Jennifer S.H. Brown, eds., The New Peoples: Being and Becoming Metis in North America (Winnipeg: The University of Manitoba Press, 1985), pp. 96-118.

Sylvia Van Kirk, “‘What if Mama is an Indian?’ The Cultural Ambivalence of the Alexander Ross Family” in John E. Foster, ed., The Developing West: Essays on Canadian History in Honor of Lewis H. Thomas (Edmonton: University of Alberta Press, 1983), pp. 124-136.

In the song “Hogan’s Lake,” the lyrics to the final verse reveal how lumber workers during the 1860s reveled in the cultural milieu of so-called “shanty songs”:

If you were in the shanty when they came in at night,

To see them dance, to hear them sing, it would your heart delight.

Some asked for patriotic songs, some for love songs did call:

Fitzsimmons sung about the girl that wore the waterfall.

From these lyrics it is evident that songs were important to these workers, but what as historians can we learn from these shanty songs?  Are they simply songs that workers enjoyed?  Are they even reliable primary sources?  Or can these songs reveal more about the lives of workers in the mid-late nineteenth century?  I would argue that both the singing of and the lyrics to shanty songs offer a valuable insight into the lives of lumber workers.  Collectively the workers bonded together to discuss and celebrate their lives through the forum and performance of song.  Of course, by their very nature these shanty songs were insular, in the sense that the lyrics only related to the experience of a single group of workers – lumber workers.  That said, the songs and their lyrics do suggest that analyzing culture is crucial for historians studying the lives of workers.  By studying these shanty songs and treating them as valuable and usable primary sources, the experiences, values, and attitudes of lumber workers can be revealed.  And that from these types of primary sources, historians can piece together the cultural response of workers to the transition to industrialism during the mid-late nineteenth century.

Worksongs and Historians

While the historical value of songs such as shanty songs could be dismissed by historians, I believe it is important for historians to explore songs because of the universal appeal of music.  Although seemingly not carrying the weight of government or newspaper reports, songs can be revealing primary sources.  On one level, music needs no formal training to listen to it, and you even need relatively few tools and training to make it, therefore underscoring its popular appeal.  At another level, songs can be multifaceted in lyrical content, covering a wide range of subjects.  For historians, this means that songs can be used as a vehicle for understanding working-class culture – songs being a reflection of this culture and the lyrics being the language.

For example, take the lyrics of the shanty songs of lumber workers.  From these songs we can etch out the realities of life for these workers, from the rural isolation, to the dangerous working conditions, from the organization of work gangs, to the expressions of masculinity and how they perceived gender relations.  Case in point, in the song “The Shantyboy’s Alphabet,” an alphabetical list of the experience of lumber workers, D referred to the “danger we oft-times are in,” while V stood for the “valleys we force our roads through.”  Other themes are reflected in the lyrics, such as the gang mentality of the workers.  In the song “Hogan’s Lake,” the lyrics refer to a “gang of shantyboys” who work through “storm, frost, and snow.”  While in the song “When the Shanty Boy Comes Down,” the gang mentality dominates the culture.  The lyrics declare, “There’s a gang in command, so the old folks understand.”   Gluing these work gangs together was an overwhelming sense of masculinity.  Lyrics often emphasized the value of physical strength.  In “Hogan’s Lake,” the achievements of one worker is praised because “full fourteen inches of the line he’d split with every blow” and that “he swung his axe so freely, he done his work so clean.”  This hyper-masculinity extended to gender relations.  In the song “When the Shanty Boy Comes Down,” the lumber worker “will look around some pretty girl to find,” then at the end of the relationship “bid adieu to the girl I had in town.”

Shanty songs in the context of working-class culture

From the lyrics of these shanty songs, a historian is able to draw a picture of working life workers sourced directly from the workers themselves.  But what can a historian learn from these shanty songs about other workers during the same era?  On the surface, the answer seems to be very little, due primarily to the lyrics only relating to the experience of lumber workers.  However, if we place our analysis of shanty songs within the larger context of studies on working-class culture during the transition to industrialism certain themes become apparent, most notably the sense of community amongst workers.  Historians such as Gregory Kealey have studied skilled artisans in urban settings, noting how the “custom of workers’ control” became “deeply embedded in working class culture.”  While emphasizing their unique circumstances, Kealey also notes the importance of the wider community to skilled artisans, writing that “they provided the Toronto working class community and movement with important leadership,” and helped design outfits “for the various marches and parades that were so much a part of working life in Toronto in the 1880s.”  Peter Delottinville’s study of working-class culture and a tavern in Montreal during the late nineteenth century also stressed community.  DeLottinville noted how the working-class culture centred on the tavern “could be mobilized to produce benefits for the Canteen’s patrons.”  Even in Bettina Bradbury’s study of non-wage forms of survival, the culture of pig-raising, gardening, and the production of food and goods was family/community based.  So what about lumber workers?  Was community important to them?  As well as references to supporting each other in the work gangs, we also know from the song “The Jam on Gerry’s Rocks” that looking after those less fortunate than themselves was an important part of the culture of lumber workers.  With the death of a foreman, the lumber workers grouped together to support his widow by making up for her “a liberal purse that day.” The fact that this song was one of the most popular and more widely known songs demonstrates the wider cultural connection with supporting community.

Conclusion

So what can we conclude from studying these shanty songs?  As historians analyzing the lyrics of these shanty songs provides a pathway into the experiences, values, and perspectives of lumber workers.  But perhaps more than this, the shanty songs remind us about the importance of culture to workers.  By placing culture at the centre of our understanding of working lives, we can begin to find out the common ground that the diverse workforce believed in when responding to the challenges of the transition to industrialism.  This leads me to believe that rather than producing studies that focus on a single group of workers or union, historians should explore a more diverse range of primary sources, such as shanty songs, for what these sources could reveal would help further understand the common ground amongst workers.

References

“Hogan’s Lake,” Lumbering Songs.

“The Shantyboy’s Alphabet,” Lumbering Songs.

“When the Shanty Boy Comes Down,” Lumbering Songs.

“The Jam on Gerry’s Rocks,” Lumbering Songs.

Gregory Kealey, “The Honest Workingman and Workers’ Control: The Experience of Toronto Skilled Workers, 1860-1892,” 184, 176.

Peter Delottinville, “Joe Beef of Montreal: Working-Class Culture and the Tavern, 1869-1889,” Labour/Le Travail, 8/9 (1981/82), 60.

Bettina Bradbury, “Pigs, Cows, and Boarders: Non-Wage Forms of Survival among Montreal Families, 1861-91,” Labour/Le Travail, 14 (1984), 90.

Scott Nelson, “Who was John Henry? Railroad Construction, Southern Folklore, and the Birth of Rock and Roll,” Labor: Studies in Working-Class History of the Americas, 2:2 (2005), 54-55.

Rachel Lee Rubin, “Working Man’s Ph.D.: The Music of Working-Class Studies,” in New Working Class Studies, John Russo and Sherry Lee Linkon, eds., (Ithaca: IHR press, 2005), 170.

Christopher Moore’s essay on the marriage of Marie-Louise Cruchon focuses on the harbour town of Louisbourg in Ile Royale, analyzing the marriage of Jacques Rolland, an apprentice merchant originally from the Breton village of Hédé, to Marie-Louise Cruchon, the elder daughter of widow Thérèse Boudier Cruchon.  In the essay, Moore carefully details Rolland’s initial interest in Louisbourg, as well as his courtship of Marie-Louise Cruchon.  This courtship soon turned to marriage in 1742, however, by the end of 1743 Rolland would humiliatingly flee Louisbourg without his wife and without a career.  While on one level, the value of Moore’s essay seems restricted to offering a history of the marriage of Marie-Louise and a glimpse into the society of Louisbourg.  However, at another level, I would argue that because the essay focuses on the institution of marriage and the wider social dynamics of marriage, Moore offers us an opportunity to firstly explore the factors that forged Marie-Louise’s marriage, and to secondly compare these factors with those that shaped marriages in New France.  By doing so, we can utilize marriage as a vehicle for understanding the essential characteristics of colonial society in eighteenth century New France.

Perception of Marriage

Before analyzing Moore’s essay, I want to explore the popular perception of marriage.  In North America, the popular perception of marriage is of a private domestic act.  Although customarily vows are exchanged in a public setting, the institution of marriage is seemingly a private matter that resides behind the closed doors of the family home.  However, I believe it is necessary to rethink this perception.  While the exchanging of vows has traditionally “tied the knot” between a man and a woman, the institution of marriage itself has always held larger social consequences.  Not only does the act of marriage change the martial status of the couple (and as such often their standing within the community), the saying of “I do” designates them into the role of being either a husband or a wife.  This role designation (becoming either a husband or a wife), has historically created a model for marriage where the husband is the head of the family and the “bread winner,” while the wife is defined as the submissive dependent.  This model, whether realistic or not, thus has become a template for establishing relationships within society.  Therefore, I would argue that rather than perceiving marriage as solely a private domestic act, marriage should also be seen as a public institution that reflects and shapes the essential characteristics of society.

Using this perception of marriage, we can begin to analyze the factors that forged the marriage between Marie-Louise Cruchon and Jacques Rolland.  As Christopher Moore notes, first and foremost the marriage was an alliance.  While Rolland’s merchant activities meant that he was becoming more well known in Louisbourg, Rolland was more than aware that marriage into a local family would help him develop as a businessman.  Prior events in Louisbourg demonstrated to Rolland that marrying a local girl made good business sense.  Novice merchant Blaise Lagoanere had married the eldest daughter of wealthy employer Michel Daccarette, accruing a good number of clients in the process.  However, a fellow Daccarette employee, Jean-Baptiste Lascorret, without any martial ties or social connections failed in his business ventures in Louisbourg.  Lascorret would leave Louisbourg and die attempting to make a new start in the Caribbean.

Social standing in New France

At the same time that Rolland sought to establish himself in the social circles of Louisbourg, Marie-Louise Cruchon’s mother, Thérèse Boudier Cruchon, was seeking to maintain the family’s social standing.  Thérèse Boudier had become the head of the Cruchon household after the death of her husband, Jean-René Cruchon.  Jean-René’s death had left the family struggling on the poverty line, getting by on a low income garnered by their limited craft work.   To maintain their social standing the Cruchons presented a façade. However, clearly the struggle to keep up the façade took its toll on Thérèse Boudier.  After being introduced to Jacques Rolland a social function in 1741, Thérèse Boudier built up a relationship with Rolland, ultimately ending up with Rolland marrying the widow’s eldest daughter.  While Rolland was neither a socially desirable military officer or civil official, he was in the eyes of Thérèse Boudier a wage-earner with potential.  The alliance and thus the marriage was born.

Socio-economic forces in New France

But were the socio-economic forces that forged the Rolland-Cruchon marriage alliance in Louisbourg typical for New France?  Allan Greer’s book, The People of New France, presents an overview of the social history of New France that offers a similar picture of marriage as Moore’s essay.  While Greer suggests that arranged marriages “were almost unheard of,” he argues that “in finding a husband and setting up a household might be considered a ‘benefit,’ given the difficulties attached in this society to the single life.”  Indeed the people of New France sought to avoid the single life, realizing that marriage became a means to surviving the pioneering difficulties of New France.  As Greer notes, “it was difficult to imagine pioneering without a mate and without the prospect of children.”  This stressing of importance in marriage for human survival meant for the women of New France marrying earlier and having more child-bearing years than their European counterparts.  For the men, marriage meant becoming the “breadwinner” to support a burgeoning family.  However, this socio-economic duty often meant time away from the family home on fur-trade expeditions or military operations.

Conclusion

So what can we conclude from the history of Marie-Louise Cruchon and Jacques Rolland marriage as well as the marriages of the people of New France?  Firstly, by adopting an understanding of marriage as an institution that had wider social dynamics, we can place marriage at the centre of both Louisbourg and New France societies.  As such, through an analysis of marriage we can identify the essential characteristics of colonial society in eighteenth century New France as being rooted in socio-economic factors.  However, perhaps most significant of all, the value of studying the institution of marriage for social historians is the opportunity to focus on subjects with agency that navigate through a world structured by material conditions.

References

Christopher Moore, “The Marriage of Marie-Louise Cruchon,” in Louisbourg Portraits: Life in an Eighteenth-Century Town, (Toronto: Macmillan, 1982), 55-117.

Nancy Cott, Public Vows: A History of Marriage and the Nation, (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2000).

Allan Greer, The People of New France, (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2009).

On May 14, 1881, around one o’clock about two hundred Chinese labourers working on the Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR) entered the town of Yale, British Columbia.  They headed toward the “China Department in the Warehouse,” a store for goods that were supplied to the railway labourers.  Approximately a dozen of the men tried to enter the warehouse and confront G.P. White, an overseer stationed at the warehouse. Flanked by two assistants, White resisted attempts by one “riotious character” to “force an entrance.”  In the ensuing tumult the Chinese labourers began “breaking the windows” and “chopping down the doors” to the warehouse.  White responded to the threat, firing two or three shots from his pistol into the crowd.  Soon the police “interferred and quieted them [the Chinese] down, marching several of the ringleaders to gaol.”*

* Daily Colonist, May 17, 1881.

On May 16, 1881, two defendants were brought to trial at the Yale court of assizes.  Ah Loom “the ringleader of the mob of the attack” and Ah King who assaulted a police officer when trying to rescue Ah Loom confronted the prosecution.  Faced with a barrage of evidence against them, both men were held for further trial at a higher court.  On May 17, 1881, G.P. White, the overseer at the warehouse who fired into the crowd of Chinese labourers, faced prosecution.  During the trial several Chinese labourers who were at the warehouse on the day of the violence were called to testify.  Their testimony, translated into English for the court, was reproduced in the Inland Sentinel on May 19, 1881.

The following passages have been extracted from the testimony.  Ah See was the first sworn in.  He testified:

I was there in the afternoon, there were lots of Chinamen there; I saw several Chinamen go in the store; I did not go in; I saw Mr. White shove one Chinaman out of the door, down the steps; I saw White shut the door; I saw one or two Chinamen pushing the door; there were lots of other Chinaman there, who, did nothing. I saw White at the window, a few Chinamen were then standing beside me-15 or 16-I was then on the opposite side of the road, about 17 or 18 yds; I heard three shots fired, it was the first shot that passed my head; there were about two minutes time between each shot; the shots all came from the same window.

Implying that G.P. White as the person who shot into the crowd, Ah See was cross-examined by the defense on the time of the incident and why he was at the warehouse in the first place. Ah See replied:

This happened about 1 p.m.; I came down to see about the two per cent commission, I saw some parties pushing at the door with their hands; I saw no stones thrown at the door or building; did not see anyone attempting to break the door with an axe or crowbar; I stood directly in front of the window, about 18 yds. off; I saw White shut the door before I heard the shooting; I saw three other persons at that time in the store with White; I saw stones thrown at the window; I did not know the names of any of the men I saw about me; I did not know if White intended to shoot me or some one else; I did not see anyone throwing stones at the window, until White fired the shot; the window was closed. I saw the window raised, a shot fired, and then shut down again.

Ah See lay the blame for the violence on the actions of G.P. White (White fired the first shot and incited the crowd to throw stones at the warehouse).

The next Chinese labourer to testify was Ping Sing.  Answering the question why he was at the warehouse, Sing stated:

I came here last Saturday. I came down to the China store to collect some money. I on first going in saw White. I saw the contractor, Lee Lum, and Ah Soon. I was one of the first who entered the store followed by several others, I saw White pushing some of them out; the door was then shut and some Chinamen outside were pushing against it. I was then inside; there were 5 whitemen and 5 Chinamen in the store; White was one of the whitemen. I saw White raise up the window and shoot off a pistol; he fired 3 shots; could not say in what direction he fired. I know there were lots of Chinamen outside; as soon as the first shot was fired, lots of rocks came in; I distinctly swear that the shot was fired before the rocks were thrown into the building, and that there were 3 shots fired. I saw a pistol in White’s hand, an ordinary one.

Sing’s closeness to the action meant he could identify White as the shooter.  The defense cross-examined further, trying to pick holes in Sing’s original testimony.  Sing replied:

I went in the store for my 2 per cent. I cannot tell how long I remained in the store; I was there during the whole of the disturbance; cannot tell how long it was from the time the stones were thrown until the crowd left; there were some goods in the room; I stood in the room on the left hand side; White was walking around the room; when White shut the door I was standing at the side of it. I did not arrange to give any evidence at this court to-day. White told me to go out of the store into the next room, but not till after the shooting and rocks had been thrown.

Clearly frustrated by the questioning, Sing stated that he did not “arrange to give any evidence.“  The final Chinese labourer to testify was Ah Lin.  Like Ping Sing, Ah Lin identified G.P. White as the shooter of the pistol.  Ah Lin testified:

I was at the Chinese store on Saturday; I came down to see about my wages. I came to see Ah Soon, the agent; White asked us to go in; lots of Chinamen followed; someone stopped them from coming in; I saw the door shut; someone outside tried to push open the door; I saw White raise the window, and look out; then raise the pistol and fire, I am positive that White did not order us out until all the trouble was over.

After further cross-examination, Ah Lin stated:

I was in the front part of the room when the shooting was going on. I was about 6 feet from White when he fired; cannot say what kind of a pistol he used; heard 3 shots, could not see into the street. I saw nothing but White shooting, and then I left that part of the building. There were 5 whitemen and 8 Chinese in the room at the time. I knew 2 of the Chinamen within the store. I can see 2 whitemen in the court room whom I recognize as 2 I saw in the store. White ordered 3 of us out after the trouble was over, the axe I had in my hand on Saturday at the store I left there, inside the store.

Introduction

Immigration has always been a fundamental part of Canadian history and society. However, arguably immigration after World War II took on a different extent and character.

Historiography

Franca Iacovetta studied Italian immigrants – stressed family formation during baby boom years.

Mostly males, then women and children.

Theories

Prior to World War II. majority of immigration to Canada was from U.K. and U.S.A.

By the 1970s, a shift toward Asia. With immigrants from China and India.

Push and pull factors.

Controversies

Involvement of the government in shaping immigration post World War II.

Sources and methods

The baby boom of the 1950s

Many of the 1.8 million immigrants that arrived in Canada between 1946-1962, were of child-bearing age. Embraced values of home and family.

Events and incidents

Policies aimed at attracting professional positions.

Federal government embraced a “points system” in 1967, applicants were ranked to objective criteria concerning education, skills, and resources.

Caused a dramatic shift from Europe to Asia.

Sponsored immigration tended to bring in less skilled

Conclusion

Why did the character and extent of immigration change after World War II? Increase government involvement in shaping society. The need for immigration for economic growth. The agency of people, connecting families globally.

Introduction

The French created separate colonies at three locations: Ile Royale (now Cape Breton Island), Canada, and Louisiana. These colonies, as well as the French fur trading presence in the continental interior, are collectively known as New France.

But could you regard New France as a fragment of the old world or a product of the new world? Or is there a different context that historians should place New France in?

Historiography

Francis Parkman – New France oppressed by government

W.J. Eccles – government supported all levels of society

Allan Greer – New France feudal

Theories

Allan Greer argues that New France was “a dynamic zone of contact and colonization.” Greer adds that “New France consisted of a narrow area of intense European occupation and the networks … that connected the St Lawrence settlements with the vast hinterland occupied and controlled by dozens of Indigenous nations.”

Controversies

The debate over New France has been Eurocentric and nation-building based.

But what if New France was placed in a different context, perhaps a transnational, “Atlantic history” perspective.

Sources and methods

Approach of an Atlantic history would draw connections between old and new worlds, a dynamic interchange.

Events and incidents

Relationship between French settlers and First Nations.  Religious conversion, but also part of colonization was land tenure.

Was land tenure about socio-economic survival in the New World?

The status of women in New France, and their contribution to colonial society (preparing food, making clothes, nurturing families), saw them functioning differently than in France (although no woman served as governor, was a judge, or held high ranking position in society).

Is this a case of adapting to the new world.

Conclusion

Need to understand New France in a different context than a fragment of the old world or a product of the new. Historians need to analyze New France through a transnational lens, wide in scope, incorporating the Atlantic and contact with First Nations.

An immigrant to Canada who murdered her abusive husband in 1911, igniting a public debate about domestic violence and the death penalty.

Connect the life of Angelina Napolitano with immigration at the turn of the century, as well as the rights of women, and the theory of separate spheres.