Catharine Parr Traill and her sister Susanna Moodie both wrote extensively of their adventures as settlers in 19th-century Upper Canada. The melodramatic tales of adversity in Roughing It in the Bush make Moodie now rather better known than her elder sister, whose cheerful writings – The Backwoods of Canada and Canadian Crusoes, for example – have left an impression of a calm, well-regulated Arcadian existence.

This selection of letters by three long-time Traill-Moodie specialists necessitates a radical reconception of such a bland image. Though Traill’s determinedly optimistic nature rarely gives way to self-pity, the reader is struck by how unremittingly hard her life was. She gave birth to her ninth and last child at age 46. She lived to be 97, publishing well into her 90s and writing almost to her last breath. Her last letter, cut short by death, was atypical: much of her correspondence runs to at least 1,000 words, and the editors, having tracked down almost 500 letters, have had to cull strenuously. The effect is a kind of fast-forward over a very long life as the young, handsome literary Englishwoman who gazes levelly from the cover is quickly superseded by the careworn wife and mother in a new land.

The letters in I Bless You in My Heart are supported with every necessity for a journey spanning the 19th century: map, family trees, photos, notes handily appended to each letter, and three extended sections of background to guide the reader through a bewildering quantity of references. But though the package is attractive, the cumulative effect of the letters is somewhat lugubrious. Traill’s life held tragedy aplenty: one son was the first prison guard to be murdered in Canada at Kingston Penitentiary. Her chronically depressed husband predeceased her, as did many of her correspondents – relatives, dear friends, and literary contacts in both the New World and the Old. Despite a measure of fame, for Traill, prosperity and ease were elusive and work unceasing; yet she continued to reflect a keen interest in life and an abiding interest in the natural world. She was regarded for so long as “a wonderful old lady” that she became thoroughly tired of the characterization, but as a contemporary journalist noted, “there is no other phrase so true.”