In 1870 the extraordinarily wealthy Coit family brought 300 of their closest friends up from America for a luxury steamboat cruise upriver to see New Brunswick.
They departed Boston in an opulent steamship freshly renamed the New Brunswick, in honour of their expedition.
When they arrived at the mouth of the Bay of Fundy a storm rolled in, rudely interrupting their sumptuous breakfast catered by their team of elite chefs.
“The sea is so much rougher than heretofore,” wrote one Coit. “Some of our party find it difficult to contain their – their admiration. Several of the ‘weaker vessels’ abruptly quitted the breakfast table [and] shot past alarmed friends … with handkerchiefs’ to their mouths.”
It wasn’t actually a bad storm; the Coits simply had a flair for the dramatic.
The Coit family fortune spanned generations, and they included some rather interesting characters like “Firebelle Lil” Coit. She was a hard drinking, cigar smoking, trouser wearing, Coit who was known for dressing as a man to get into male-only gambling dens.
The Coits’ annual excursions were legendary not only for their extravagance, but because they would publish their vacation memoirs into a popular book series. In that year’s Coit Correspondence: A Trip To New Brunswick, different family members penned different chapters. They don’t sign their name to their sections, making for a jarring read because their writing styles –and their opinions– differed widely.
One Coit wrote “the great company was bisected by the energetic steward Mr. Glazier … This surge-ical operation seemed to have spoiled nobody’s appetite…“ (The Coit who wrote that chapter was presumably the surgeon; the Coits enjoyed puns.)
Their staff on the steamship included several elite chefs, servers, sailors, bartenders, a full choir, a medical team, a religious team, a poetry team, and a 15 member brass band who composed a family theme song that was played each time they disembarked called “The Coit March.”
The Coits certainly had a high opinion of themselves. One wrote: “I hope readers will not become tired of hearing about us Coits. We are a truly great institution.”
They first arrived at Campobello Island, where both Coits and locals alike seemed awkward: “On the arrival of our steamer at this place, we were greeted by nearly all the inhabitants of the town. They came, men, women, and children, at the top of their speed to the wharf. We stared, they stared, and we all stared at each other; we surprised them, and they surprised us. After a mutual stare we took supper, and still they lingered.”
The day they arrived in Saint John, the Coits bragged of having eaten 200 lbs of meat for breakfast: “Our cook, who is a veteran of the art, says that he never yet has seen the people that could eat quite as much as we!”
They were greeted in Saint John by a large crowd, including government officials and the 78th Highlanders’ military band. The Coits were impressed by the bagpipers, and particularly Sgt. Hames Tuite who had fought at the Siege of Lucknow 13 years earlier. “How proud I was to grasp his manly hand, and show my esteem for his modest merit!” gushed one Coit.
The Telegraph newspaper made clear why Saint John rolled out the proverbial red carpet for the Coits: “They soon scattered in all directions over the city … invading the shops and making purchases on a large scale – so large, indeed, that in some articles the stores really were “cleaned out.” ”
One Coit mocked the city’s tourist sites, writing that the hotels were “rather seedy looking”; the Theatre “a rude and rickety affair”; the parks “small, unkempt, and destitute”; peoples homes “have in general a battered look”; and the market “a dingy aggregation of stalls.”
They laughed that The Slip was a “suggestive word.”
However, they were deeply impressed by the wealthy parts of Saint John, located around Mount Pleasant, which was then topped by the grandiose mansion called Reed’s Castle.
Most of all, they were most impressed by the city’s progressive social safety net. Saint John boasted the finest Lunatic Asylum in Canada, and a state-of-the-art Poor House, both of which the Coits deeply admired.
They begged for a tour of the Asylum, during which they joked: “A few, alas, … found the Insane Asylum so well suited to their conditions, there is little hope of luring them back.”
The Coits later ventured up the river by steamship to Fredericton.
The beautiful steamship voyage upriver momentarily stunned even the Coits into silence: “I find myself utterly unable to give you even a faint idea of the beauty and scenery of this river. I don’t even know how to commence the description. … but without exaggeration the scenery of the St. John River far exceeds the Hudson! … Our journey up this river was the most sublime and grand of anything we have witnesses since we left our home.”
They did, however, manage a few snarky comments about the homes they spotted en route: “the houses are very small … most are only one-story.”
In Fredericton they were “met by an immense concourse of people.” Officials greeting them
included the Lieutenant Governor, who invited them to lunch.
They were impressed by Government House, calling it a “palace,” and writing about “the beautiful grounds that surrounded it. … We have not as yet seen anything at home that we can compare to them.”
A military band played as they departed Fredericton, and they wrote that “many of the people, in carriages, followed us down the river for miles, waving their white handkerchiefs.”
Their departure from New Brunswick was less pleasant, with one Coit writing: “we have just passed through a great trial: sea-sickness. ”
They wrapped up their vacation memoirs by concluding: “We found warm and hearty friends whenever, and wherever, we made a stopping place; we hope that friendship may long continue.”
In fact they were so impressed by New Brunswick that the whole 300 member Coit family expedition would again return to the province the following summer.
