James Julian was born in 1833 in Otonabee Township, Peterborough County, Ontario to parents Robert Carter and Ellen Beavis (neé McMannah). He grew up on the family farm, Lot 27, Concession V, and worked with his father and brother William (half-brother) in eking out a living. William was given the west half of the lot in 1847 together the north half of Lot 29 presumably to set him up on his own in anticipation of his marriage to Jane Graham whom he married in 1852.
James Julian and his father continued farming together until 1857 when he was given the east side of the lot, 100 acres, in his own name. He had married Sarah Jane Fife in 1855, and he was being set up on his own, as his brother before him. Today, we know there were two Carter farms on Lot 27, one on the east side, the other on the west. We have no knowledge of when each was built, nor how long the three families lived in which premises.
After the marriage to Sarah Jane Fife, children were born with regularity, five girls up to 1867, then a son in 1869. Sadly and unfortunately, in 1872, Sarah Jane died.
In 1873 James Julian remarried. His second bride was Barbara Connel who was 22, and he was 40. Three more daughters appeared by 1881 but sadly Barbara also died in 1884 at the age of 33. He remarried once more about1885. His third bride was Mary Ann Taylor. She was about 36 and he 53.
The earliest date we know of his being a tyrannical bigot is from a letter from his son, Charlie, written in the 1950’s to Robert Stewart Carter. Charlie was born in 1869, and left home for good in 1889, so we can assume from the following quotations from that letter that James Julian was despotic at least as early 1870.
My father was a God-fearing man, a religious tyrant who ruled
his family by fear. I have been in many tough spots during my
career, where the chances of survival were not bright,
but have never experienced that paralyzing fear, that cold chill,
which a word or a look from my father sent through me.
With the exception of my sister Sarah Jane, all members of my
mother’s family shared the same fear….my mother must have
lived in mortal fear of him….
Sarah Jane would talk back to him when he became too unreason-
able, how he hated that. When she told him she was going to marry
John Brown, whom my father disliked because he was an accomp-
lished violinist and played at times for dances, which my father
looked upon as the stepping-stones to Hell, he told her to give up
this thought of marriage or leave his home at once. She packed her
personal belongings, left, and [she and John]were married, and she
was never permitted to come home again.
That’s one look at James Julian. Charlie’s letter continued and led to the story of his leaving home.
After Sunday School, from 9-10 AM, I was expected to stay in
church for two more hours while my father attended the regular
service and fellowship hour. Four hours is a long time to expect
a child to sit quietly and I did not like it. One Sunday, when I was
12 years old – a hot day in August, the church was stuffy and I had
a headache, I came out after Sunday School and Bob Armstrong,
a neighbour and I went home. When the family arrived from
church my father was in a violent rage. “Why had I left church
without his permission?” I tried to explain but to no avail. He
said “I will settle with you in the morning.” He never punished
me on Sunday but kept that for Monday morning.
He came to my room before I was up, and said. “I have thought
this matter over, and am prepared to give you a choice, as follows:
FIRST: You will go to church every Sunday, and after Sunday
School you will come and sit by me. You will not leave the church
between services. You will come home with the family after all
services are over.
SECOND: You will remain at home, never set foot off the farm on
Sunday, both of those conditions to be in force until you are 21
years old.
THIRD: You will pack your clothes, leave the farm, and never
come back.
I chose the second, and strictly adhered to that agreement until I
went to Peterborough to attend Business College. Many times he
said, “ I rue the day I ever gave you a choice. I should have
beaten you into submission or driven you from home.”
When the subject of higher education for me was discussed, he
demanded that I study for the Ministry, “You have been called
by the Lord to preach the gospel.” I said, “He didn’t call loud
enough, I didn’t hear him.” He said that was blasphemy for
which I should be punished. I wished to study Law but he said,
“NO, not one dollar of my money will ever go to make an
educated crook of you.” So we compromised on a course of
Business Administration, in the Peterborough Business College.
I do not remember ever receiving a word of encouragement or
praise from him. If he set some task for me, he would hunt for
fault with my work and always found something to gripe about,
and he was continually telling me that I was useless and would
never amount to anything, why had the Lord inflicted me upon
him, why could I have not been a girl, I was more bother than
all the girls combined.
During the Fall of 1888, Harvey Fife, my cousin, who had been
in Calgary, returned home for the winter. When he was getting
ready to head west in the spring of 1889, I told my father I would
like to go west with Harvey. He promptly flew into a rage, and
told me that he did not want me to go, told me what I had cost
him since birth, of which he had kept an itemized account from
the time the doctor was called the day I was born, my clothing,
shoes, doctor bills when I had measles, whooping cough, chicken
pox, scarlet fever, etc., my tuition fees, board and lodging while
attending he Peterborough Business College for two terms, the
total of which was slightly over $800.00.
I told him I was sorry to have cost him so much, that if he would
Give me a ticket to Calgary, plus a few dollars to carry me until
I could find work, I would promise never to cost him another
dollar. He said, “Alright go, but remember if you ever come
back, it will be on your money, don’t ever ask me for more.”
And so we parted April 1st 1889. I had about $20.00 on arrival
in Calgary.
Charlie and his father never saw each other again. On one occasion James Julian wrote to Charlie suggesting he come home and together they would whip the farm into good shape (It had deteriorated under tenancy) and then he would be willing to sell it to Charlie, but Charlie declined, further enraging his father.
James Julian Carter became very small and frail in later years. For the last two years of his life, he was blind and deaf and confined to bed most of the time. He died in Asphodel Township August 3rd, 1920 only a month short of his 87th birthday and was buried in the Fife cemetery in Otonabee.