The Six Children of Thomas Culbert and Letitia Dempster

 You’ve already met Thomas Culbert (son of John Culbert & Mary Ward) but if you missed his biography, click here.

 We turn now to the six children of Thomas Culbert (1846-1930) and his wife, Letitia Dempster (1846-1933).

 

Of those six children, I have photos of only two of them: Milton and Victor. If anyone has photos of Elviretta, Ernest, Myron or Orval, please email me.

Thomas Culbert & Letitia Culbert, parents of six children. Photo courtesy of Jane (Gras) Heigis.

Thomas and Letitia raised their children in Granton, Ontario, Canada. Granton is a small community in Biddulph Township; about 10 km or about 7 miles east of Lucan, Ontario. Thomas owned and operated the Central Hotel in Granton. In October, 1889, the family moved to London, Ontario where Thomas had a cigar shop, and later became a travelling sales representative for Carling Brewery. For awhile, they lived at 116 Colborne Street where their youngest child was born, and later, they lived on Horton Steet. In 1904, Thomas built this beautiful house at 784 Wellington Street...

The Thomas Culbert - Letitia Dempster family house at 784 Wellington Street in London, Ontario. Photo by Mary Jane Culbert.

Here are some details about each of Thomas and Letitia's six children:

1. ELVIRETTA CULBERT (first child of Thomas & Letitia) also known as “Elva,” was born 16 October 1871 in Biddulph Township, Middlesex County, Ontario. She attended S.S. No. 7 Granton School in Granton.

On her 36^th birthday in 1907, Elva married George Thomas Hunter (1877-1943), a conductor with the Canadian Pacific Railway.

Over the years, Elva and George lived in three different houses on St. James Street in London. They started out at 495 St. James Street; then 506 St. James Street; and lastly, 502 St. James Street.

506 St. James Street, home of Elva Culbert and her husband, George Hunter. Photo by Mary Jane Culbert, 2017.

When Elva’s ageing parents, Thomas and Letitia moved out of their big house at 784 Wellington Street, they moved in with Elva and George at 502 St. James Street. Thomas and Letitia died in that house, as did Elva’s husband, George.

Robert Milton “Bob” Culbert remembers his great-aunt Elva as “a tiny, cheerful creature who resembled a field mouse and who enjoyed music – she sang and played the violin, both very badly! But she was a fine cook who could turn out a whole week’s worth of apple pies in a trice.”

Her nephew, Milton Richard Culbert said, “Although Elva was a scrawny little squirt, she had a strong voice and sang with great confidence, always off-key. The result was shattering. Her voice seemed to emulate the cries of lonely hoot owls and beagle bitches in heat.”

Elviretta (Culbert) Hunter died 25 January 1954, age 82, and is buried in London’s Woodland Cemetery. Elva and George had no children.

 

2. ERNEST ADOLPHUS CULBERT (second child of Thomas & Letitia) was born 20 May 1873 in Biddulph Township. In 1906, "Ernie" married Mary Rose Wilson (1878-1936). They lived at 180 Bruce Street in London, Ontario.

180 Bruce Street, home of Ernie Culbert and family.

Ernie went from one job to another as a bookkeeper, prospector, supplier of building materials, and railroad worker. According to Ernie’s nephew, Milton Richard Culbert, Ernie swanned about London as “a fashionable dandy and flashy baseball player. Ernie could usually be found sitting all dressed up in his good clothes in the back yard, reading the sporting pages with a fat cigar in his face, waiting no doubt for some lucrative position to come up worthy of his status.” Bob Culbert said, “It was thought that Ernie was a bit of a layabout.”

Ernie and Mary had two daughters: Marjorie Isabelle Culbert (1908-1996) and Barbara Olive Culbert (1913-2011).

Marjorie Culbert was born 7 July 1908 in London, Ontario. She married Andrew Jeffrey Royal in Brazil in 1940. I’m not aware of any children from this union. Marjorie, an international traveller, led an interesting life as you can see by clicking here. She died in 1996.

Ernie and Mary's daughter, Marjorie (Culbert) Royal in 1940.

Less is known about Ernie and Mary’s youngest daughter, Barbara Olive Culbert (born 14 October 1913 in London, Ontario). Click here to read a piece that I wrote about her. Barbara Culbert attended nursing school and married James Walter Youngman. Following his death, she married Allan Moore. Barbara and her first husband, Jim Youngman had three children. One of their daughters, Dr. Susan (Youngman) Mitchell (1946-2003) was a physician in Muskoka, Ontario. I've just found Barbara's obituary which shows that she died in Cobourg, Ontario on 10 November 2011. Please contact me if you know more about Barbara Culbert or if you are one of Barbara's descendants. 

Ernie & Mary's daughter, Barbara (Culbert) Youngman Moore.

 

Ernest Adolphus Culbert died 10 September 1950, age 77 and is buried in Woodland Cemetery.

 

3. MYRON BURTON CULBERT (third child of Thomas & Letitia) was born 8 August 1877 and died 1 October 1880, age three. He is buried in Woodland Cemetery in London, Ontario. 

Myron Burton Culbert, age 3 is buried in Woodland Cemetery with his parents, Thomas and Letitia. Photo by Mary Jane Culbert. 

4. MILTON THOMAS CULBERT (fourth child of Thomas & Letitia) was born 29 May 1880 in Granton, Ontario.

Milton Thomas Culbert (1880-1911). Photo courtesy of Robert Milton Culbert.

Milton Thomas Culbert attended the University of Toronto, and became a geologist and mining engineer. He was described in an obituary (Applied Science published by University of Toronto) as "one of the cleverest men that the Canadian mining industry has ever known."

In 1907, Milton married Laura May Yeo (1884-1973). Milton and Laura had one son, Milton Richard Culbert (1908-1996). Sadly, Milton Thomas Culbert died at age 30 in 1911, leaving behind his widow and his two-year-old son.

Milton Thomas Culbert is buried in Woodland Cemetery, London on the opposite side of his parents' headstone.

I plan to devote a separate blog post to Milton Thomas Culbert at a future date. 

 

5. JOHN VICTOR CULBERT (fifth child of Thomas & Letitia) was born 4 December 1885 in Granton, Ontario. He graduated from the University of Toronto as a mining engineer. Victor never married or had children.

John Victor Culbert (1885-1963).  Photo courtesy of Jane (Gras) Heigis.

Victor Culbert’s head was a subject of fascination for his nephew, Milton Richard Culbert who drew caricatures of his Uncle Vic.

 Source: The Culbert Chronicles by Milton Richard Culbert.

Victor Culbert volunteered for overseas service in 1917, and held the rank of Lieutenant. 

John Victor Culbert in military uniform. Photo courtesy of Jane (Gras) Heigis.

Bob Culbert says, “Great-uncle Vic was a bit of an absent-minded professor type, but he was a qualified geologist who occasionally went on assignment to far-away places such as South America.”

Milton Richard Culbert said of him, “Uncle Vic should have become a research botanist instead, and spent his oddball life dissecting daisies and dogbane, and solving the sex life of the kumquat.”

Milton continues, “Vic’s writstwatch was always exactly on time to the second, but he never was.”

John Victor Culbert died 8 February 1963, age 77, and is buried in Woodland Cemetery.

 

6. MERLIN ORVAL CULBERT (sixth child of Thomas & Letitia) was born 3 January 1890 at home in London, Ontario at 116 Colborne Street. (His birth document contains an error, reporting the address as 110 Colborne instead of 116 Colborne. A London city directory confirms that the Culberts were living at 116 Colborne Street in 1890.)

Merlin Orval Culbert was a salesman, press operator, and in the 1950s, he worked as an inspector for General Steel Wares in London.

In 1922, Orval married Isobel Malloch (1895-1964). The 1935 Voters’ List shows them living at 575 Grosvenor Street in London. In 1945, their address is 784 Colborne Street, London.

575 Grosvenor Street, London, Ontario. Photo taken many years after they lived here.

Orval’s nephew, Milton Richard Culbert said, “Orval had forsaken higher education for the lure of the lucre, much to his regret in later years. He had a very inquiring mind and could have become a fine scientist, likely in astronomy, his chosen hobby.”

Orval’s nephew, Robert Milton “Bob” Culbert, remembers his uncle Orval with affection, describing him as “delightful company.”

Bob says, “He (Orval) and Dad (Milton Richard Culbert) had a wonderful surrogate father and son relationship, Dad having lost his father (Milton Thomas Culbert) in 1911 and barely remembering him, and Uncle Orval never having a son.”

Bob goes on to say, “We would stop in London to collect Great-Uncle Orval so he could attend our family picnics near Delaware, Ontario. Orval was designated honourary “Chaplain” of these picnics. Dad (Milton Richard Culbert) built Orval a large badge to wear around his neck; it said “Chaplain”. Michael Gordon Dunsmore Culbert says of his great-uncle Orval, “I have a feeling that these picnics were the highlight of Vic’s social life. He was jovial and enthusiastic--wanted to meet everyone at the gathering and find out what they did.”

Orval and Isobel had one daughter: Catherine Isabel Culbert (1924-2001). Catherine Culbert, a stenographer, remained single and had no children. She lived in London. When she retired from Bell Canada, she moved to Tiny Township near Coutnac Beach, north of Penetanguishene, Ontario. She became an elder and active member of the Penetanguishene Presbyterian Church. She also volunteered at the Wye Marsh Wildlife Centre and in the Books on Wheels Program. She died 10 June 2001, age 77, and is buried in Penetanguishene Presbyterian Cemetery.

Merlin Orval Culbert died in 1981, age 91. Unlike most of his family, he is not buried in Woodland Cemetery. Instead, he and his wife are buried in London’s Mount Pleasant Cemetery.

If you have additional details or photos you’d like to share regarding any of the people in this blog post, please contact me, Mary Jane Culbert at this email address:

Memories of Thomas Culbert and Letitia Dempster

Thomas Culbert & Letitia (Dempster) Culbert. This photo was probably taken in their kitchen at 784 Wellington Street in London, Ontario. Photo courtesy of Jane (Gras) Heigis.

In 2018, the Culbert Family History blog posted a biography (click here) of Thomas Culbert (1846-1930) the son of John Culbert and Mary Ward. In that biography, you learned about Thomas’s Central Hotel in Granton, Ontario; and later, his lucrative career as a travelling sales representative for the Carling Brewery of London, Ontario. And if you read this post (click here) you learned of Thomas’s dealings with the legendary Donnellys of Lucan-Biddulph.

Let’s turn things over now to Thomas and Letitia’s grandson, the late Milton Richard Culbert (1908-1996). Milton and his parents, Milton Thomas Culbert and Laura May Yeo lived in Toronto but periodically, they would board a train to London to visit Thomas and Letitia.

Milton Richard Culbert self-published his memoirs, The Culbert Chronicles in 1995. In The Culbert Chronicles, Milton recounted his memories about Thomas and Letitia.

784 Wellington Street in London, Ontario, Canada. This house was built for Thomas Culbert and his family in 1904. For the past 50 years, this house has been owned and beautifully maintained by Marlyn Loft. Thanks to Marlyn for graciously allowing me to photograph her home. Photo by Mary Jane Culbert, 2017.

784 Wellington Street in the winter, 2021. Photo by Marlyn Loft.

Here, as follows, are some of Milton Richard Culbert's memories of his grandparents, Thomas and Letitia Culbert. The text is by Milton Richard Culbert with photo captions by Mary Jane Culbert.

Our affectionate greeting from my beloved grandparents (Thomas and Letitia) was always the same. Grandmother Culbert would appear at the door first, bubbling over with delighted chuckles and crying, ‘Well, if it isn’t my Pet, sure enough!” Grandfather Culbert would follow with his own quiet welcome. Tall, muscular, and white-moustached, he carried about his person the delicious aura of fine cigar smoke.

Welcome to 784 Wellington Street! Photo by Mary Jane Culbert.

 

From early childhood I was used to my grandmother Culbert’s odd appearance, but to a stranger, she was an unbelievable apparition.

In her youth, I imagine she was a slight little sandy blonde. In age, it was it was impossible to tell. Her thinning, faded hair was drawn tightly away from her brow into a small bun at the back of her head, in ballet-style; but after that, there was no further likeness to a ballerina. She had lost all her teeth by the time she was twenty, and had found wearing dentures intolerable thereafter, so her mouth had sunk into a little puckered slit beneath her beaky nose, accentuating her pointed chin and giving her a witch-like profile. However, this impression was dispelled by her tranquil demeanour and her warm smile.

Letitia (Dempster) Culbert

At first meeting, her bizarre attire would make one think that she was costumed for a part in an early settler play. A white, frilled waist ended high on her neck in a lacey collar. Her long, black, pleated serge skirt began up under her sparse bosom and spread downward to her feet, which were always clad in carpet slippers. I suppose she had two or three of these identical outfits, but in all the years that I knew her, I never saw her wearing anything else.

Aside from seeing her once or twice in the back garden, picking tomatoes, she never left the confines of the house, with one notable exception: about once every four years when there was an election, she donned a hat and coat, and presumably button boots, and went to the polls to vote for the conservative candidate.

When I used to tell how much I liked my Grandmother Culbert, my mother would get quite annoyed and complain, “She has never once sent you a Christmas present or even a birthday card, but just think of all the things your Gran Yeo is always giving you!” Odd how affection is given by children: I loved Grandmother Culbert; I liked Gran Yeo. The former was uncritical and approving; the latter was generous and bossy.

View onto Wellington Street from the front porch of 784 Wellington Street. Photo by Mary Jane Culbert, 2017.

Grandfather’s home was across the road from Sir Adam Beck’s estate, on Wellington Street. It was a broad, quiet, shady avenue with boulevards between sidewalk and road, affording a double line of tall, stately trees on each side.

Living room window at 784 Wellington, looking onto Wellington Street. Photo by Mary Jane Culbert, 2017.

View from an upper level of the house onto Wellington Street. Photo by Mary Jane Culbert, 2017.

It was a spacious, three-storey house, built to accommodate the fairly large Culbert family: a daughter and four living sons.

View from the side of the house into the back yard of 784 Wellington Street. Photo by Mary Jane Culbert, 2017.

My happiest recollection of the property was the magnificent plum tree that grew in the back garden. It was an easy climb of some twelve feet or so to reach the bearing centre. There, I would sit comfortably in a crotch and gorge on the luscious dark blue fruit until I bulged. Strangely enough, I never once got ill from over-stuffing myself.

In the autumn, Grandfather would pick butternuts from another large tree in the backyard and store them in the basement. When I came to visit, we would sit together at the foot of the cellar stairs on wooden boxes, and chat while he would patiently crack away at them to see how many I could hold. They were so delicious and I ate so many that I am sure he must have tired himself out hammering. I never got sick stuffing my stomach with them either.

View from the other side of the house into the back yard of 784 Wellington Street. Photo by Mary Jane Culbert, 2017.

The two of us used to take long walks to places that he knew would interest me. Our favourite stroll was along the quiet, winding, shady banks of the Thames River. There, he would pick up small stones from the shallows and show me the fossils immured in the rock.

“This one,” he would say, “is a brachiopod.” Discovering another a few minutes later he would state, “This one is a trilobite.” I was tremendously impressed with his great store of knowledge and proud to be grandson of such a learned man. It wasn’t until years later that I came to realize that these were probably the only two paleontology terms he knew, and these he must have learned from my father (a geologist.)

As a result of her Granton hotel years, Grandma Culbert was a very competent cook. But of all the fine dishes she prepared for the family, I can recall only one, - apple pie. She spent most of every Friday baking her entire week’s supply. What was really remarkable about them was, not only were they delicious when they first came out of the oven, but they were just as juicy and tasted just as good when they came out of the pantry on the following Thursday. Whether they were made from fresh apples in season, or dried apples out of season, made no difference to quality. Considering also that there were no refrigerators back then, her results were even more astonishing. Even my hypercritical mother reluctantly conceded that her mother-in-law produced the very best.

One reason that I remember Grandma Culbert’s apple pie so clearly was the fact that it was served for dessert, dinner and supper, day in and day out for weeks at a time, with no one ever tiring of it. Mother said that once every month or so, preserved fruit was served instead, but I never recall getting that.

The dining room at 784 Wellington Street in 2017 with the original light fixture. This was probably also used as the dining room when Thomas and Letitia lived here as it's located just off the kitchen. Letitia would have served many an apple pie in this room! Photo by Mary Jane Culbert.

The dining room at 784 Wellington Street in 2017. The open door leads into the living room while the closed door leads onto the "bandshell" or "bandstand" veranda. Many of the orginal architectural details in the house remain intact such as the wooden floors, doorknobs, transom windows, etc.
Photo by Mary Jane Culbert.

One day when I was about twelve and seeking to amuse myself at Grandfather’s home, I turned to the bookshelves and discovered a copy of Nonsense Novels, by Stephen Leacock. He became my literary idol and I was hooked on humour for life.

Grandfather Culbert was a big, sturdy genial man. As I remember him, he was also quite handsome, with steely blue eyes that I felt could turn fierce and intimidate when challenged: though I never saw anything but kindness beam from them. I can say also that I never heard him raise his voice in wrath. To me, however, his most characteristic facial feature was his full, white, military-style moustache.

Thomas Culbert (1846-1930). Photo courtesy of Captain Robert Milton Culbert.

Conservative in style, it was trimmed neatly to the corners of his mouth, imparting an extra air of distinction and stability to him. Any time that I thought of my grandfather, his moustache would be the first part of him that loomed into my mind.

On one visit to London when Grandfather was in his late seventies, I received a nasty shock when he greeted me. He had shaved off his wonderful moustache! I was horrified! He didn’t seem to be my venerable grandfather any more, just an ordinary-looking old man with a very long upper lip. It was years before I got over the sad feeling and could picture his face in my imagination the way it formerly was, that had made him look so impressive and handsome: my own grandfather! I tell you this because many years later when I decided to develop a moustache myself, I vowed that I would never part with it, in case I might similarly shock a younger generation. That is why you see this silly-looking thing on my upper lip, now that I have many grandchildren of my own. But I still think I would look even worse without it.

Milton Richard Culbert, grandson of Thomas Culbert & Letitia Dempster and author of The Culbert Chronicles.

I have no recollection of my Culbert grandparents attending church services. They had fallen by the wayside and defected from either the Anglican or the Presbyterian church sometime before my arrival. They were good Christian folk, of course: I often heard Grandmother muttering her prayers in her bedroom. Although her words were mostly indistinct, I sometimes heard her say “Myron”: so I knew that she was asking God to take good care of the little son who had died in infancy. I know that Grandfather was quietly devout in his own private way also: for as he coasted into his eighties, he apparently figured that though he was likely on the Lord’s approval list for admittance into Kingdom Come, just in case of any doubt, he had better make damn good and sure. He therefore went to his daughter Elva’s brother-in-law, the Reverend Bruce Hunter, and borrowed a great armful of religious tomes, which he sweated up at great length to assist him in passing any exams for admission. I am sure that when he arrived at the Pearly Gates, Saint Peter said to him, “Tom Culbert! Of course you’re in! You really didn’t have to go to all that bother toward the end. We have a lot worse guys than you up here. Now your grandson ---.”

When my father, Milton Thomas Culbert died in 1911 at age 30, the profound shock of losing the favoured son gave Grandfather Culbert a severe heart attack. After recovering from the first seizure, he suffered other lesser ones from then on for the rest of his life. I never saw him have one, but was told that he would begin to gasp with pain and then turn purple. Whenever this happened, family members, true to their Erin heritage, would come running to his aid and pump Irish whiskey into him until he turned pink again. I think that Grandfather taught himself to turn purple at will, whenever he felt he wanted a drink. He lived to the ripe age of 84. I’m sure that he is up there now in Heaven, happily lecturing in paleontology.

Just as Thomas and Letitia enjoyed a beautiful tree-lined view from their home at 784 Wellington Street, so too was their final resting place at London's Woodland Cemetery an area of beauty. Photo by Mary Jane Culbert.