Saddlebags for Suitcases: Across Canada on Horseback by Mary Bosanquet ~ 1942. This edition: McClelland and Stewart, 1942, 4th printing. Hardcover. 247 pages.
My rating: 9/10
Every year the Rotary Club in a nearby small city holds a massive, week-long book sale. Every year I come away with boxes of books, and out of these boxes there always emerges at least one or two hidden gems. This year that designation goes, hands down, to this unexpected find.
In 1939 a young Englishwoman in her early 20s had an unusual idea, and, being of a straightforward nature and having a methodical sort of mind, set about to see if she could bring the thought into reality.
With the coming war looming on the near horizon, Mary Bosquanet, daughter of a diplomatic family (her father, Vivian Bosanquet, was the British Consul-General in Frankfurt from 1924 to 1932), decided that the time was ripe for a grand enterprise, a heroic self-imposed adventure, to be undertaken before the world erupted once again into widespread conflict. It would be something to remember in the dark days to follow.
Perhaps inspired by the accounts of Aimé Tschiffely, who from 1925 to 1928 made a 10,000 mile horseback journey from Buenos Aires to New York City, Mary Bosanquet, a lifelong horsewoman and an accomplished rider, decided to try for a relatively more modest but still astoundingly ambitious solo horseback ride: right across Canada from Vancouver heading East.
Mary and her horses Timothy and Jonty achieved the goal, covering an estimated 3800 miles of horse trail, back road, and highway in eighteen months. Of this time, the winter of 1939-40 was spent hosted by a farm family in Ontario. Mary then continued on to Montreal, and then rode south to New York City, where she set sail back to England, to do her part in the war which had indeed broken out shortly after she embarked upon her ride.
The trek was not without setbacks. Mary’s first horse, Timothy, chosen from the working herd of the legendary Douglas Lake Ranch near Kamloops, B.C., started showing symptoms of chronic lameness during the challenging Rocky Mountain crossing from B.C. to Alberta. In Calgary Mary acquired another horse, Jonty, to spell Timothy off, and the trio made it to Ontario together, where Timothy was given an honourable retirement from the trek, finding a less strenuous home where his duties required merely short jaunts versus the pounding day-after-day demands of the long-distance journey. Mary continued on Jonty, and the two rode into New York City on a November day in 1940, escorted by an honour guard of mounted policemen, through Harlem, the Bronx, Central Park and into the Mounted Police Barracks.
Mary herself was injured several times during the ride, first breaking her wrist and later seriously fracturing her arm when she and Jonty were enjoying a wild springtime gallop which ended disastrously when the horse stumbled and Mary was thrown against a tree.
She was the recipient of much attention from newspaper reporters as the trek proceeded, was surprised by several offers of marriage from smitten cowboys, attended the Calgary Stampede and was inspired by the displays there to try out bronc riding herself with reasonably successful results, for though she was unseated several times she felt she had figured out the stick-to-the-horse technique quite nicely, learning through doing, as it were. During the later stage of her journey Mary even visited the Dionne quintuplets, and her wry commentary on that experience is a fascinating glimpse at that particular social phenomenon.
During her winter in Ontario, Mary was astounded to learn that she had been publically labelled as a German spy by the very newspapers which had initially applauded her enterprise. Apparently her unlikely undertaking combined with her frequent picture taking and her fluency in German (remember that she spent a number of years in Germany as the British Consul-General’s daughter) were suddenly seen as highly suspicious. Mary lived those slanders down, but one can tell that the slurs stung; she was already agonizing about not being “home” to help out with the war effort, and she debated ending the trek and heading back to England immediately. Encouraged by friends and family to continue, Mary did so, but ended the Canadian odyssey in Montreal, heading from there into the United States, to New York City, and thence home.
Mary kept a journal throughout the trip, though frequently weeks would pass between entries, for she was in a constant state of physical exhaustion while on the road, and writing up the day’s travels was not a priority. Enough was noted to make a fascinating framework for this account, and Mary’s personal musings embellish the exceedingly realistic account of travelling on horseback, finding a place to settle each night (Mary preferred asking for accommodation at farms and homesteads along the way; occasionally she slept under the stars) and the challenges of feeding both herself and her two horses.
She pulled the enterprise off with a budget of eighty English pounds – the equivalent of about £5000 today, or $9500 Canadian dollars, and, needless to say, relied greatly on the kindness of strangers throughout the trip. (My husband, after reading the book, joked that Mary should be the patron saint of today’s couch surfing travellers – finding constant free or very cheap accommodation for herself plus two equine companions was something of a noteworthy accomplishment all on its own, in his opinion. I hadn’t quite seen it that way, but I quite agree!)
I greatly enjoyed Mary Bosanquet’s account of her journey. She has a self-deprecating but never meek voice, a healthy sense of humour, and strong opinions ably defended. I liked her a whole lot by the end of her journey, enough so that I have sought out and ordered her two later memoirs, 1947’s Journey into a Picture, concerning her post-war social work with the YMCA in Italy after her return from Canada, and 1962’s The Man on the Island, an account of a year spent in Oxford.
Saddlebags for Suitcases is, in general, very competently written, but it has amateurish moments throughout, such as the author’s insistence on sharing her attempts at poetry, which, though adding to the charm of this from-the-heart memoir, also bring forth the lifted eyebrow, because to be quite brutally honest she’s not really much of a poet, except in the talented schoolgirl sense. There are great gaps in the narrative as well – and understandably so! – for one day of riding through Saskatchewan is surely much like another.
I loved the early chapters describing the travels through British Columbia, and the journey through the mountains following trails which have now become the Hope-Princeton highway. The changes between then and now are quite astounding; B.C. readers will love the contrast between the still-rural Fraser Valley of the 1930s and today’s overflow-from-Vancouver smog-shrouded sprawl.
The book is a marvelous bit of Canadiana, and a very telling piece of World War II memorabilia, though the action takes place far from the site of the actual conflict.
Here are the first three pages, for those who think this might be a diverting read. The book is in good supply on ABE, and is available as a print-on-demand book through the Long Riders’ Guild publishing division.
Leaves & Pages 
How did her life turn out?
I’m not quite sure – fairly well, I think – for from what I could discover she returned to England, worked in various government departments aidin the war effort, and wrote the two further memoirs mentioned, as well as at least one well-regarded biography of the anti-Nazi German “martyr” Christian Dietrich Bonhoeffer. It was very hard to come up with even this much background information; I hope to learn more from the other memoirs. A fascinating character!
What a great find. I love real life stories of adventurous women. Have you ever encountered the great English Victorian traveller Isabella Bird? Her adventures are amazing — a winter in the Rockies, snowed in with a bunch of men (including the very attractive Mountain Jim, who she fell for in a big way), travelling all over Hawaii on horseback, and much more besides. Amazingly, when she wasn’t doing all these things, she was lying on her sofa suffering from ill health, like many another Victorian lady.
I am aware of Isabella Bird, Harriet, but I have not yet read any of her travel accounts. I hope to remedy that at some point. My next “adventurous woman traveller” might be Gertrude Bell; a collection of her letters was another of the books I acquired at the same sale which brought me Mary Bosanquet’s remarkable story.
What marvellous book troves you find, L&P.
An added bit of fun — a whole website of vintage travel adventure books, including a subset of Horse Travel Books.
Isn’t that a great website? Very, very tempting!
I want to go to that library sale! This definitely sounds like a book for me. I love traveler’s tales, particularly by intrepid women. And her other two books sound equally intriguing.
I’m sorry to say that the copy of At Home in India that you so kindly sent has apparently been lost in the mail. I blame the US Postal Service (which still hoping it will turn up).
It’s always fascinating to go to this book sale – lots of same old-same old but a few vintage gems, too.
So disappointed to hear that the book is lost in transit. 😦 That so seldom happens. It was sent regular post – tucked into a small padded envelope. It’s been a couple of months, hasn’t it? Lots of time to show up. So sorry; you would have enjoyed it, I think.
But you never know – might still be in the system somewhere…here’s hoping!
I admit, I am hoping that now I’ve proclaimed it lost, it will turn up, in the perverse way that things do.
Here’s hoping!
I did indeed have an experience of this myself. Last year I waited a good three months for a book to arrive from England after its mailing date. Accepting at last that it was likely lost in transit, I initiated the ABE refund process, only to have the book show up two days later. Postmarked on the British end exactly as reported by the book dealer, with pristine packaging showing no evidence of the parcel’s whereabouts during its leisurely journey to Canada. Very odd! Usually books from Europe and the UK arrive very quickly, within 2 weeks, even at the most “budget” mailing rate.
But in general they are much longer in transit from the USA. Perhaps our missing book is stuck at the border??? It was sent “regular” mail, so there is no tracking number, so no way to check. It’s not at all “valuable” in the monetary sense, but rather disappointing if it is indeed lost.
Mary Bosanquet has a very engaging writing style. I despaired of finding a copy of Saddlebags at a local library, but it turns out there are a few copies at various BC libraries, and I have just learned how to request one by Inter Library Loan. How exciting!
I’ve just started reading a different cross-continent solo journey book: Che Guevara and the Mountain of Silver: By bicycle and train through South America, by Anne Mustoe. I picked it up on a random browse at my local library, thinking my husband might like it (because he wants to cycle through South America), and I’m finding it fascinating.
And I just watched the movie Tracks, about Robyn Davidson’s trek with camels across half of Australia, which was a great movie. So cross-country journeys are apparently the theme of the month!
I do hope you will enjoy the Mary Bosanquet book, once it makes its way to you. 🙂
I’ve started another long-distance trip book, too, this one Harry Franck’s Vagabond Journey Around the World, published 1910. A young American man, recently graduated from university, decides to travel around the world on foot, paying his expenses by working his way and not taking any sponsorships or charity. He refuses to glamorize the squalid accommodations he must therefore resort to, and his general tone throughout is exceedingly prosaic and very opinionated. An interesting departure from the general run of travel books of the time, but I found that the author’s glumness about his umpteenth uncomfortable night sharing a flophouse room with nineteen other snoring hobos (etc) started dragging me down a bit. So Mr Franck is temporarily set aside (he is in China at this point in my reading journey, a little more than half way through his journey) while I seek lighter entertainment for a bit. 😉
There. I just found a vintage copy online for a good price. It’s been on my radar ever since I read this review. Looking forward to reading it now. :^))
I bought the same book at auction and it had an inscription to her friend and her signature and even three old photos of her inside. I loved the book. I found your site as I have been trying to find one of her relatives who might be interested in having it back.
kawartha705 I have just read your post. I am Mary Bosanquet’s nephew and live in Bath, UK. Her younger daughter lives nearby. Do you still have this copy of the book. We would be very interested in “having it back”. Andrew Bosanquet email: agb dot scientist at gmail dot com
Hi! I’m so sorry believe it or not I just saw this reply today I will try and write you at your email address! Yes I have the book!
Hi Andrew
I wrote you on your email from almost two years ago so not sure if it’s active. Mary’s book and photos are ready to return to her family!
[…] grand-mère maternelle (une vraie aventurière, elle) raconte dans son récit de sa traversée du Canada à cheval en 1939 sa première nuit à dormir seule à la belle étoile […]
My Mom,and athlete and horsewoman and very adventurous herself, Mary Ruttan (Robinson later) rode with her from Winnipeg and if she did not have to run a dance school in Winnipeg would have ridden the rest of the way on Teddy, her dear horse. Mary B evidently invited her to do so. Mom remembered her fondly and she and her family wrote mom for some years according to the letters I have. An amazing woman and an amazing adventure. Mom quite liked her.