their relationship changed quickly and drastically. Bell objected to being subordinate to Low, and strongly complained to the minister responsible for the Geological Survey that he (Bell) deserved the appointment, and provided a long list of reasons as to why Low was not qualified. The degree to which the relationship deteriorated is shown by a lengthy series of written memoranda between the two over the fulfillment of office procedures and missing files.
A person's sense of humour (or lack of it) can tell something of their character. Following Low's return from his expedition in 1894, he was unpacking some barrels of rock samples when Alfred Selwyn, the director, walked in and started to harangue him. Apparently, Selwyn always started his day with a harangue. The verbal onslaught was returned and, as Selwyn was leaving the room, Low rolled a barrel after him; Selwyn jumped63 to escape injury, and was satisfied that his verbal onslaught had elicited a response. A second anecdote relates to a fisherman who charged Low an exorbitant rate for his boat. “Never mind,” said Low, “we'll get it back before this trip is over.” And he did — at poker.64
It seems that Low was a plain-spoken man, a little quiet, very private and modest about his achievements, but proud of his athletic abilities. Having published at least 37 articles and chapters, of which 23 were official government publications, Low was recognized as an expert in the geology and geography of the Quebec-Labrador peninsula. However, we conclude that he was not a brilliant scientist, in the sense that he conceived new geological theories, but rather a careful, methodical scientist whose observations are still quoted.
Because he spent so much time away, we can only conjecture that his relationship with Isabella was not one of burning passion. Nevertheless, he had a strong relationship with her family, as he lived with one or another of them for over 50 years. Did Low have a hidden artistic or literary side? If so, then his sensitive side was limited as the texts of the only two poems found, including the portion cited earlier in this chapter, are really doggerel at best.
All of our description of his personality is conjecture. The bridge of time and the absence of personal data do not permit a clear picture.
HIS DECLINE TO OBLIVION
The career of A.P. Low unexpectedly fizzled out, beginning in 1907 when he took extended sick leave at the age of 46; he officially retired in 1913. Nothing is known for certain about the nature of his illness. After his retirement, he survived another 29 years, and continued to live in McLaren Street with his unmarried sister-in-law, his daughter Estelle and his son Reginald.65 As Estelle never married,66 she appears to have spent over 30 years of her adult years caring for her ailing father. Two events occurred in close succession that would have affected Low greatly during his retirement. In April 1917, Low's friend, David Eaton, who had accompanied him on expeditions for over three years, was killed just before the Canadian attack on Vimy Ridge (France);67 and on January 22, 1918, his son Reginald died of natural causes at the age of 22.68
What was Low's mysterious illness, and just how debilitating was this illness? Dr. Morgan Gross, a retired Geological Survey geologist, states that Low was sometimes seen walking to movies in the neighbourhood during his retirement. While the oral history of the Geological Survey is that his ill health was rumoured to have been due to syphilis,69 there is no evidence of this. During his retirement, Low also visited Montreal where he smoked cigarettes and recalled old times with fellow geologists.70)
After Jessie Cunningham died on February 28, 1939,71 the house on MacLaren Avenue was sold. Low and Estelle moved to a modest rented apartment in a nearby house on Waverley Street.72
A.P. Low died at age 81, on October 9,1942, after a “lengthy illness.”73 There was no will.74 He was buried in Beechwood Cemetery in Ottawa, beside his wife and two sons.75 His obituary lists a number of surviving friends who attended the service, including Geological Survey colleagues and several militia people. The two newspapers in Ottawa at the time contained surprisingly long obituaries for him, given the Second World War battles going on at that time and the casualty lists. The graves of A.P., Isabella, Andrew and Reginald are marked in the Beechwood Cemetery in Ottawa by a single small and simple rough-hewn rock, with the names of himself, Isabella, Andrew and Reginald carved on its surface, in contrast to the polished granite obelisks that surround it.
What happened to Estelle who was 55 at the time of her father's death? According to the intestate documents, she inherited all of her father's private writings and mementoes which except for some stocks and insurance policies, were not itemized. She definitely inherited articles from his explorations since the year after her father's death, Estelle donated some Inuit ivory statuettes belonging to him to the National Museum.76 These may have been the same ones he mentioned as having collected during the his expedition on the Neptune. According to the Ottawa city directories, Estelle left the apartment rented by her father and took lodgings at several different addresses in Ottawa77 until 1947, after which all trace of her disappears. Even Wynn Turner, a distant relative, was not aware of her existence. No one even knows where she is buried. What happened to the rest of her father's belongings? No one knows.
Such was the life of Albert Peter Low. A private man, he rose from humble beginnings to the top of the government's premier scientific institution, and exhibited a physical toughness for almost three decades that few of his time or ours can match. But missing from this portrait are expressions of Low's personal views and values. The picture of him is still fuzzy, rendered only in black and white. Perhaps someone someday will find Low's personal diaries and letters in a forgotten trunk in an attic somewhere. Only then can colour and a sharper focus be added.
IWAKE UP EARLY THE MORNING of August 4, to the steady pitter-patter of rain on the motel roof. “That's a sound we'll have to get used to,” says Jim, who then rolls over and goes back to sleep.
Our little caravan sets off, heading north. The landscape unfurls in a seemingly endless flag of spruce. Road signs announce or point to communities with Cree names: Waswanipi, Ouje-Bougoumou, Chibougamau….
We stop at the general store in Waswanipi for a soft drink, and I hope to find some painkillers for my toothache. Jim, Don and I admire the shelves stocked with wool mitt liners, leather mitt “outers,” woollen shirts, heavy cotton pants, rubber boots, a variety of portable wood stoves and other gear for living in the bush. No trace of “Gore-tex” in this store. We leave the store with good leather mitt “outers” that you can't find in Ottawa any more, but no painkillers. But at a pharmacy in Chibougamau I load up on extra ones and “gum-number” for my toothache. There is a street party going on, and a big fellow in overalls demonstrates how to drill through solid granite. As we drive away from the town, the trees continue to get smaller. From the highway, through gaps in the forest, we can see huge clear-cut areas. It seems that the wall of spruce lining the highway is quite narrow. The pavement finally runs out shortly after Chibougamau. After another dusty hour and a half, in the late afternoon, tired and rattled, we pull into the community of Mistissini.
The HBC trading post at Mistassini in the background in this photograph by A.P. Low in 1884. This person was not identified. Courtesy of LAC photo collection, C034229, A.P. Low.
It has taken us just two days to drive from Ottawa to Mistissini. Getting here was not so easy for A.P. Low in 1884, when he first travelled here to to survey Lake Mistassini. Low left Ottawa by train for Quebec City, and then took a steamboat down the St. Lawrence to Rimouski. Across the river from Rimouski, on the St. Lawrence's north shore, is the village of Bersimis1 (formerly Betsiamites). Here he hired his Montagnais canoemen, and the
