CHAPTER VI

A Great Adventure

“Playing safe” is a better programme than reckless foolhardiness, but it

is a poor programme as compared with the spirit of adventure. Without

adventure, based upon faith, humanity’s horizon would never have widened

out and new continents and new avenues for the expenditure of human

energy in great enterprises for the good of mankind would never have

been discovered. Satisfaction with present attainment means stagnation,

and it is better to reach out after the apparently unattainable than to

allow our God-given energies to suffer atrophy through disuse.

In our present study of the building of a great railway across Canada,

traversing vast unpeopled plains, and boring its way through what some

had declared to be impassable mountain barriers, it is a very

interesting thing to find the enterprise somewhat closely linked up with

a certain other organization that had been chartered in 1670, under the

title of “The Governor and Company of Adventurers of England trading

into Hudson Bay.” The big word in that title is the word “adventurers,”

and it applies both to the men who hazarded their capital and to the men

who fared forth from the Old Country into the unknown spaces of the new

continent on this side of the sea. This Hudson’s Bay Company not only

attracted attention to the new world that had still to be conquered, but

its able and resourceful employees in the North-West became distinct

elements in the progress of the country.

In this particular connection one Donald Alexander Smith (later Lord

Strathcona) who had come out from Scotland as a lad to Labrador, in the

service of the Company, had risen to be head of that Company in Canada

at the time of Confederation, and was a member of the House of Commons

for Winnipeg when the project of a transcontinental railway loomed up as

an actual possibility. Mr. Smith was a restlessly ambitious man, or he

would not have so risen, and there is no doubt in my mind (and I knew

him in his later years) that when the discussion arose he began to

cherish the hope of being an instrument in linking up the East and West

in some way by the much-discussed railway.

Since writing this I came across a letter, dated November, 1872, at

Stuart Lake, B.C., from the Hudson’s Bay Company factor then in charge

there, to the officer in charge at another post. This letter not only

shows that the Hudson’s Bay Company, instead of retarding the opening up

of the country by rail as some have affirmed, was actively assisting and

making possible the work of explorers and surveyors who were beginning

to blaze the way for the road. And it also shows that Mr. Donald A.

Smith was, even that far back, on his own behalf and on behalf of the

ancient fur-trading organization, contributing his quota in that

direction. Here is an extract in the letter from one Hudson’s Bay man to

another: “The bearer is a botanist belonging to the railway survey who

arrived here in company with an engineer, and who is the bearer of a

letter from Mr. Donald A. Smith to us men in the service to assist the

surveyors as far as possible. He also showed me a letter from Mr.

Sandford Fleming, authorizing the engineer who goes down the Skeena to

sign any bill of expenses he may have with the Hudson’s Bay Company and

it will be good. I have told him that you would forward him to Victoria

and push him through as quickly as possible. The engineer’s name is

something like Horetzkie.” The writer of that letter had caught the name

of the engineer all right. And it shows not only how these Hudson’s Bay

posts made the work of these and other explorers possible, but in this

particular case it links the name of Donald A. Smith with the new day

that was dawning.

I do not think that Mr. Smith was by any means the ablest of the men who

later formed the Canadian Pacific Railway Company Board. But he was

unquestionably the pivot on which the project turned, from its doubtful

success as a Government undertaking, to its becoming an accomplished

fact as a privately owned and operated concern.

And it happened on this wise. Mr. Smith had to travel frequently between

West and East, through St. Paul, Minnesota, on his way from Fort Garry

to Ottawa and Montreal, in connection with parliamentary and Company

business. In St. Paul he usually called on Mr. Norman W. Kitson, a

Canadian, formerly a Hudson’s Bay factor, and met along with him another

Canadian, James J. Hill, who was then in the coal business. Kitson and

Hill were both interested in transportation to the Red River country,

and were anxious to get a hold of a three-hundred-mile railway called

the St. Paul and Pacific, running from St. Paul to the Red River, and

later to westward, if it could be kept going. This road had fallen into

misfortune because grasshopper plagues and Indian troubles and massacres

had depopulated the territory through which it ran. So the Dutch

bondholders had thrown it into the hands of the receiver, and the bonds

were not saleable in the ordinary way. Hill and Kitson, who knew more

about the country than the Dutch bondholders, felt that the road could

be built up into a really valuable concern, and Smith thought the same.

But they lacked the capital to acquire it.

Mr. Smith, on arrival in Montreal, told all this to his cousin, Mr.

George Stephen, another Scot, who had prospered well in business and was

President of the Bank of Montreal. Stephen (later Lord Mount Stephen)

was a man of unusual strength and vision. They talked it over with Mr.

R. B. Angus, also a Scot, and a very able business man, who was, at that

time, general manager of the same bank. Stephen and Angus agreed

generally with Smith, but they had not then seen the country and were

not of the kind to be rash. However, in 1877 Stephen and Angus had to be

in Chicago on banking business and, having a few days at their disposal,

decided to run up to St. Paul and see Hill and his country. They saw

both, as well as the railway, and were satisfied it had a big future.

The grasshoppers were disappearing, the Indians were all peaceful or

dead, and settlers would rush in to the rich areas. Stephen was a man of

swift action when he was satisfied, and so he hied himself away to

Amsterdam, got an option on the railway and came back with that option

in his pocket. The necessary money was raised, bonds were later on

floated, and Stephen, Hill, Angus, Smith (all Canadians), with John S.

Kennedy, of New York, took over the railway and the land-grant. We need

not follow the history of that St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba

Railway (which later developed into “Jim” Hill’s Great Northern); but

everything seemed to come the way of the adventurous Canadians who had

risked much on it, and they became multi-millionaires in a surprisingly

short time.

It was to this group of men, who were doubtless ready to be approached,

that Sir John A. Macdonald, after having tried in vain in Europe,

turned, when even Sir Charles Tupper, who was never disposed to be

afraid of anybody or anything, called the Premier’s attention to the

prodigious task ahead if the Government itself attempted to build and

operate a railway across Canada from sea to sea. By these financial men

and a few more, as we shall see, the project that had terrified

Governments of both political shades was undertaken, and by them it was

ultimately, and after terrific struggle, carried to completion. Even Mr.

J. J. Hill came in at the outset, but, differing from the rest on the

policy of building over the North Shore of Lake Superior and thus having

an all-Canadian route, and finding it impossible to serve two masters in

two railways that would clash somewhat, he retired soon after the

Canadian Pacific Board was organized. But we are not to forget “Jim”

Hill, a Canadian abroad, for it was through him that the great

triumvirate, Stephen, Smith and Angus, got a taste for railroading and a

certain training therein which stood them and Canada in good stead in

the stormy days that lay ahead.

It was, in a sense, natural that the men we have mentioned should take

hold of the Canadian Pacific undertaking. Some of them, at least, knew

the great West-land by actual observation. The others would bank on the

statements of those who knew the country. Stephen was the most cautious

and so the least inclined to take risks in regard to such a colossal

enterprise. But once he entered upon it, we are probably safe in saying

that, though he had his hours of depression, he became the mainstay of

the Board in the dark storms of difficulty that were at times to settle

down on the project during the desperate days that were ahead. All

three, Stephen, Smith and Angus, hailed from the land where there is a

saying, “A stout heart to a stey bræ.” And these men and their

associates were to face, in every sense of the word, “steep hills” in

the financial world as well as in actual rock-ribbed obstacles to

railway building, greater than any contemplated by the originator of the

inspiring saying quoted above. There was to be a time, as we shall see

later, when Stephen’s famous cablegram to Smith, in the single Gælic

word “Craigellachie” (stand fast), would be needed as a ringing

admonition to men in Canada whose resources became so completely

exhausted that failure seemed practically inevitable.

In the meantime we have only reached the stage in our story where these

men, Stephen, Smith and Angus, reinforced by another highly capable,

careful and successful Montreal man, Mr. Duncan McIntyre, at the

threshold of the gigantic undertaking, were in consultation with the

Macdonald-Tupper administration at Ottawa on the subject. They all

sensed the almost overwhelming bigness of the task and, although they

were attracted by the challenge of its immensity, and were prepared to

accept that challenge, they all realized that they should try to secure

the co-operation of the world’s financial centres before they could even

hope for success. Hence we find, in the summer of 1880, Sir John

Macdonald, Sir Charles Tupper and John Henry Pope sailing for London, in

company with Stephen and McIntyre, to interest British capitalists.

Englishmen are generally willing to take a “sporting chance” and plunge

into an adventurous scheme. But this project of building a railway

across the continent through Canada’s far stretches of thinly populated

country, with the gigantic engineering problems of the rock region on

the North Shore of Lake Superior and the apparently impenetrable barrier

of the mountains in British Columbia, was too large an order for the

most courageous of London’s money magnates. It is doubtless a good thing

for Canada that the delegation had to return from London empty-handed.

Projects and business concerns owned and operated by long-range

directors and shareholders have never been a huge success in Canada,

unless practically conducted by local advisory boards, and railways are

no exception to that rule. More important still, this fruitless search

for financial assistance put Canadians on their mettle by throwing them

back on their own resources at the outset, and thus developing the

strength and the endeavour which a big undertaking always brings if

bravely attempted. It was a good training in national athleticism, and

the young Dominion that had to wrestle with difficulties at the

beginning developed astonishing strength and initiative power. Later on,

when, within a few months of the last spike on the road, the youthful

giant had reached the limit of resource, and was in danger of falling

short, British capital was to come in to help to a triumphant finish.

But the time was not yet.

The delegation to London returned to Ottawa in 1880, and the Government

signed a contract with George Stephen, Duncan McIntyre, of Montreal;

James J. Hill, of St. Paul; John S. Kennedy, of New York, and four

outside this continent, Cohen, Renach & Company, of Paris, and Morton,

Rose & Company, of London, though in the latter case it was really the

New York firm of Morton, Bliss & Company that went into the

organization. It is interesting from a psychological standpoint to find

that the name of Donald A. Smith, one of the big three, was not in this

original contract. Ever since the day when Mr. Smith had cast his vote

in the House of Commons, in 1873, against Sir John Macdonald in the

matter of the “Pacific Scandal,” as Macdonald’s opponents called it, or

the “Pacific Slander,” as Sir Charles Tupper designated the affair,

there was, to put it mildly, a coolness between Smith and Sir John. For

these two to be in the conferences that would often arise between the

Canadian Pacific directors and the Government, would throw a wet blanket

on the meetings. Later on these two became punctiliously friendly, and

even though Mr. Smith’s name was not visibly in this original Canadian

Pacific Railway Company, every one knew (including the keen-minded Sir

John) that he was actually in it for all he was worth.

The contract terms sound generous enough if we could only keep out of

our minds the tremendous extent of the undertaking and the endless risks

taken by the new company, in view of the fact that the real cost of the

railway from ocean to ocean was almost a haphazard conjecture. Up to the

date of the signing of the contract the way through the mountains of

British Columbia was unsettled, and the character of the work on the

North Shore of Lake Superior was practically unknown. That North Shore

problem had frightened Sir Henry Tyler, President of the Grand Trunk, in

London, from going into the Canadian Pacific scheme, partly because that

eternal wilderness had no prospect of local traffic compared with a line

south of the Boundary, but partly also because the interminable miles of

rock to be built through looked too formidable to be attacked. Take it

all round, the terms of the contract signed in Ottawa may have looked

too generous to the man on the street. But only men of courage who

visioned the far future would have set their names to a covenant to

build thousands of miles of a railway which not only some public men,

but some experts also openly declared would “never pay for the axle

grease.”

Briefly stated, the Government agreed to give the new syndicate the

seven hundred miles of railway already built or under contract to be

built by the Government, together with twenty-five millions in money and

twenty-five millions of acres of selected land in the West. In addition,

the syndicate was promised exemption from import duties on all material

brought in for construction, from taxes on land for twenty years after

Crown patents were issued, as well as freedom from taxes on stock and

other property for all time, together with exemption from regulation of

rates till ten per cent. had been earned on capital invested. To guard

against premature competition by roads connecting with the States, the

Government agreed that for twenty years no charter would be granted to

any railway south of the Canadian Pacific Railway from any point at or

near the Canadian Pacific Railway except such as should run south-west

or westward of south-west; nor to within fifteen miles of the

Boundary-Line.

In Winnipeg, in my student days in the 80’s, I recall hearing many

rather stormy discussions over this contract at public meetings, because

the West was particularly affected. The two things most strenuously

opposed, as being too generous to the Canadian Pacific Railway Company,

were the grant of land, which was said to be too large, and the section

which prevented competing lines being built to the south. Neither of

these objections ever seemed to me very reasonable. The land grant

looked large; but land was worth very little before the railway came in

to make it valuable. In my boyhood I knew that some of the land along

the Red and Assiniboine Rivers (and there is no better land anywhere)

was sold for fifty cents an acre. If the twenty-five millions of acres

given to the railway were valued at pre-railway prices the amount would

not be great. When the railway was built the price of land went up with

a rush, but it must be borne in mind that it cost the Company millions

to bring the railway in, to make the land worth while. And it should

also be remembered that the railway made other people’s land as valuable

as its own, although the increase to the other people did not cost them

anything beyond their ordinary taxes. In any case the land went up when

the railway came in, but the railway did not come in by magic. It is

interesting to recall in this connection that Sumner, a famous statesman

in the American Republic, once advocated giving half of one of the great

agricultural States in the West to any one who would build a railway

through it, as it was of little use till a railway would enter. What

some people in Canada, who denounced the Government for giving

twenty-five millions of acres, might have said if the Canadian Pacific

Railway had been offered one-half of the Middle West, would probably be

too incoherent to print.

We may read later something of the cyclonic protests made in my native

Province of Manitoba against the section of the contract which denied to

any others the right to build railways south of the Canadian Pacific

into the States; but, like many other movements, the one against this

temporary monopolistic clause was, to say the least, lacking in proper

perspective. The Canadian Pacific Railway Company, to enable Canada to

keep faith with British Columbia and thus hold Confederation together,

was struggling to build two thousand miles of road over a territory

where there was little prospect for years of a paying traffic. It is

hard to see that it would have been just, without adequate compensation

to the Canadian Pacific, to allow other railways to hamstring the

transcontinental by building in the only region where there was

population enough to give a railway some reasonably remunerative

business.

A rather peculiar thing was that no one objected to the cash subsidy

except those who attacked the whole business from end to end, as ruinous

to the young Dominion. Reasonable onlookers, however, who knew something

of the tremendous cost of construction over certain sections, thought

the syndicate was mad to tackle it at almost any price. Later on these

reasonable people found justification for their view in the fact that

construction was costing in some sections half-a-million a mile—though

even they would have gasped if they knew that in after years a single

tunnel in the mountains was to cost over eight millions to construct.

There were some who considered that the free gift to the company of

several hundred miles of railway, built by the Government over a term of

years, was too generous. But Canadian Pacific Railway experts in 1889

testified before an Interstate Commerce Inquiry, and said that parts of

the Government sections were unwisely located, and the cost of joining

up with these unwisely located sections was so great that the amount the

sections were supposed to represent should be heavily discounted. It is

possible that experts will always differ over this big contract of 1880

which, for years, furnished offensive and defensive political orators

with abundant ammunition in party conflicts.

As I write these paragraphs regarding the famous contract between the

Canadian Government and the pioneer railway across Canada, I have before

me the Dominion Statute of 1881 in which the contract is incorporated.

It has some rather illuminating clauses, of which I here quote a few. In

the section of the Act in which the Company is required to complete the

work by the year 1891, and the section in which the Government is

required to complete and hand over certain portions of the railway then

under contract, both parties are safeguarded by the words “unless

prevented by the act of God, the Queen’s enemies, intestine

disturbances, epidemics, floods or other causes beyond control.” That

was sufficiently comprehensive to guard against any contingency. There

is a very interesting statement at the conclusion of section 7 of the

Act, where, after saying that the road built by the company and the

portions built by the Government when completed, shall become the

absolute property of the Company, the Act goes on to say: _And the

Company shall thereafter and for ever efficiently maintain, work and run

the Canadian Pacific Railway_. I think the testimony of all is that the

Company is living up to that contract, since its amazing efficiency is

the admiration of the world. But the words “for ever” indicate with

unconscious frankness that the Government had grown weary of Government

construction, ownership and operation of such an immense project, and

was devoutly thankful to hand it over for all time to a responsible

private organization.

The contract which we have been thus studying had to run the gauntlet

through Parliament, and we shall follow its course there and the new

programme of railway building by the new Company in the ensuing chapter.

The romance of the Canadian Pacific Railway · 第 6 / 18 章