and Jeffery, Weir, McElheran and Moorhouse was established.
It was probably in the same year that, while on a business trip to Toronto, Sam saw Lothian Hills by Homer Watson (1855-1936) and fell headlong in love with it. Painted in 1892, prior to Watson’s excursion into an Impressionist style, the painting remains an example of Watson’s best period and was quite probably the single work of art which consistently over the rest of his life gave Sam the greatest pleasure and satisfaction. “It was,” he wrote to a friend, “my first purchase other than the wash drawing of Laura Knight’s.” He bought it on the instalment plan for fifty dollars a month directly from the artist. Lothian Hills was sold to Sam for $1000.00 less the commission of 33 1/3%. It was his in 14 months. Sam, Homer Watson and the artist’s sister, Phoebe, remained friends till the end of the lives of both Watsons. The painting continues to hold the place of honour over the fireplace in the main gallery of River Brink. Sam did not count the J.W.L. Forster portrait of Sir Wilfred Laurier, the oilette on canvas, “acquired for 50^ in my student days” probably in 1913 or 1914 as a serious part of his art collection or perhaps he had forgotten all about it.
In 1924 Sam and Martha were guests of a friend at Yale. Martha caught sight of a stone angel on the campus and never forgot her. A casting of the angel eventually found its way to the Frick Museum. Sam, Ruth and Martha each paid homage to it, Ruth in her capacity of her interest in an art gallery on Fifth Avenue and Sam on his frequent visits to New York. After Martha’s death in 1959 Sam started long and involved negotiations to bring a casting of the Ange de Lude to River Brink to overlook his home and garden in Queenston, Ontario. He wanted the statue as a memorial to Martha for whom he had planned an apartment for her use in his dream home.
“Yesterday was Ted’s birthday, but we all forgot it,” Ruth wrote to Wilbur in August of 1924, a sad commentary on her family’s attitude. That summer Sam was an acting prosecuting attorney and according to Ruth, “spends his days running around to small towns, doing his office work at night.” The chief bread winner of the family worked long hours and seems to have been taken for granted by the family. Ruth wrote to Wilbur of Sam’s knowledge of an expired chattel mortgage, listing some interesting things supposedly from the estate of Governor Higgins of New York State, and other items she thought would entice Wilbur to come up to London. Wilbur’s knowledge of antique furniture and of art objects in general, as well as of paintings, was a source of inspiration to both Sam and Ruth.
According to Ruth, one of the first if not the first, of Sam’s many vacations from his law office was to have taken place in the fall of 1924. Sam and Arthur Nutter, the architect and a frequent guest in the Weir home, perhaps a paying boarder, planned to drive to the West Coast, an adventure indeed in the automobiles of the time. However Arthur Nutter lost a considerable sum of money in a Florida bank crash at West Palm Beach and the trip was off. This was the first intimation of a restlessness in Sam that would show itself in frequent trips and excursions. Despite the material rewards of his law practice and the dividends from his growing portfolio, Sam was always ready to get out of the office and see the world.
Four generations, in 1929, the year prior to Martha Amanda’s death. Martha Amanda seated, careworn Sarah standing, and Ruth with her daughter, Sarah Howell.
Religious differences seemed to haunt Sam in his choice of young ladies. One such was a French Canadian, a staunch Catholic and a designer and creator of women’s fashionable wear. Possibly Sarah’s dressmaking activities were the means of acquainting them. However, an alliance with a Catholic was not to be thought of in George’s opinion and the young canadienne was not about to renounce her faith. Sam also had a dear friend whose parents were Presbyterians. Feelings over church union were still raw in the twenties and her parents forbade the development of a serious attachment with a Methodist. They remained friends throughout their lives and she never married. She felt that Sam’s home life was such that the taking of any prospective bride to meet the parents would be an impossibility.
In 1920 or thereabouts, Sam had met a young lady from Guelph, Mary MacDonald, known to her friends as Topsy. They corresponded incessantly by letter and apparently chatted on long distance telephone at great length like a pair of teenagers. Topsy was a keen horsewoman, so Sam took riding lessons in London, rode every morning before going to the office and joined the London Hunt Club. He does not seem to have made any other use of his membership. After the romantic attachment cooled down, he and Topsy remained friends and his enthusiasm for horseback riding waned. The social life of the London Hunt Club could be most exclusive especially to a member who was not considered part of the inner social circle of the city.
Sarah was surprised at his keenness for riding, but pleased that he was enjoying the morning exercise, albeit tempered with a certain reserve according to her letters to Ruth. She had come to depend very heavily on Sam as the man of the house and the prospect of his leaving Oxford Street and establishing his own home was not one she could look upon with enthusiasm. Sam realized the responsibility of his position as the only child left, not only at home, but in the vicinity. It was a weight on Sam’s shoulders and a strong factor inhibiting him in his social life and his seeking a wife.
The situation was relieved somewhat in 1925 when Martha Amanda, Sarah’s mother died at the age of 87. George Sutton and his mother-in-law had never been compatible. The high spirited Martha Amanda and the tyrannical George Sutton were at odds with one another, so much so in fact, that George was vehemently opposed to her being buried in a Bawtenheimer plot, particularly the one at Cape Croker. The clergyman’s widow who had subsequently remarried not once, but twice, was not fit to be buried beside the Reverend Henry in his opinion. Mrs. G.A. Bayne was buried elsewhere. Apparently Sarah’s mother had lent Sarah some money. In a letter shortly before her death she advised her daughter that she would “take interest at 5 1/2% for the present. Don’t worry about the principal.” Earlier in the year Sarah had received a short note from her mother in which she discussed the weather and the state of her health. A post script was curt and to the point, “You forgot to send the cheque.”
Sarah’s health continued to deteriorate. Despite being overworked, overtired and generally run down with anxiety, she seems always to have mustered strength enough to extend hospitality to Ruth with her little family in the summertime, occasionally to Wilbur and frequently to Arthur Nutter. Sam later angrily upbraided the architect for availing himself so frequently of the Weir hospitality, but it may well have been that Nutter was a paying guest and therefore a small help to Sarah in her constant battles with balancing her budget.
That same summer Ruth was anxious for her mother to come and visit her in her new home in Sunnyside, Queen’s County. Ruth wrote to Sam urging him to encourage not only Sarah to come but Paul also. Their fares were paid for by Ruth. This turned out to be Paul’s opportunity to leave home for good. He became a merchant seaman, sailing out of New York. By October of 1925, Paul had sailed through the Panama Canal, sent a postcard to George Sutton from Los Angeles and sailed up the western seaboard to Seattle, where he looked up his Uncle Samuel, Sam’s namesake. Paul’s comments on a postcard to Sam reveal much about Paul. He and the distinguished educator did not find much to say to one another. “Saw Uncle Sam,” he wrote, “too prosy and long winded to suit me, but he’s distinguished looking and students like him.” Samuel’s opinion of Paul is not recorded.
The summer following Paul’s becoming a sailor, Martha, he and Ruth took a motoring holiday in Quebec. Paul, who now wanted to be called Carl, managed to get into an automobile accident near Three Rivers. Ruth was unhurt, but Carl was shaken and Sam was called upon to help his brother. Later Ruth would write to Sam that their brother had been drinking again as though it were not an unusual occurrence. Carl’s frequent headaches and pains had made him extremely irritable and hard to bear, but the family made allowances constantly and forgave him again and again. Apparently Carl got off lightly with only a fine. In a letter to Wilbur, Ruth had made mention that she missed her nightly cocktail while in London in
