STIRRING DAYS ABROAD AND AT HOME
In the report of Superintendent Cotton for the year of the big Yukon
stampede there is related one of the many incidents which indicated that
on the plains the Mounted Police were keeping up to their record for
initiative and daring, even though their work was less in the limelight
than the spectacular world rush to the Yukon furnished. It seems that
some months before the date of the report a prisoner named Nelson,
sentenced to a term of imprisonment for a serious offence, escaped by
jumping from a train on the way to the Manitoba Penitentiary from
Regina. Constable Clisby, who was on duty at Saskatoon, was notified by
wire from Dundurn station, and at once took up the recapture. The
Saskatoon ferry was out of order, so he could not use it. But he was not
to be deterred from the pursuit of a criminal by a trifle like that, or
he would not have been up to the Mounted Police standard in resource and
inventive capacity. So, as the river was impassable in the ordinary way,
Clisby commandeered a railway hand-car, and possibly nailed an extra
plank or two upon it. Then he got his troop-horse to climb up and stand
upon it, while this strong-armed constable took hold of the
"pump-handle" and worked his way across the trestle railway bridge many
feet above the surging river. One can easily see what a desperate risk
this was to take in cold blood. The big bronco had been broken enough
for use on the solid earth by an expert. But to venture into the air
with a semi-wild horse, which by any movement of fright at the unusual
experience might upset the whole outfit into the river, was about as
daring an experiment as anyone could try. But the strange transport got
safely over, and Clisby, shaking out that bronco into a long gallop,
found his man in the home of a settler, engaged in filing off the
leg-iron in order to be able to get away more swiftly. Of course the
prisoner was gathered in, as was also the settler who had loaned the
file and was standing by watching the interesting process. The peculiar
thing was that when the settler, who had given the escaping prisoner the
file and stood by to see him use it to make his escape more certain, was
brought up before two magistrates for helping a prisoner to elude his
sentence, these sapient administrators of law dismissed the charge. This
miscarriage of justice so disgusted both the constable and his
superintendent that in, contemplation of it they seemed to forget the
astonishing feat with the hand-car. But we dig it up proudly from the
old report. It is in keeping with this desire on the part of the Mounted
Police to see justice meted out to the guilty for the protection of
society that we find them impatient with legal technicalities which
freed the guilty, or the views of any legally constituted body which
headed off further investigation into what was possibly serious crime.
And this remark is made at this point, because I come across a report in
which a Mounted Police Superintendent, while not openly complaining,
thinks it worth while to call attention to a Coroner's jury which, after
inquest in the case of a man who had been found dead with his neck
broken, brings in the unexpected verdict that the man died by the
visitation of God. The fact that the Superintendent simply states the
matter without note or comment indicates pretty clearly his opinion of
the intelligence of that jury. It recalls the case of the famous
frontier judge, Sir Mathew Begbie, of British Columbia, who is said to
have been much disgusted and amazed when a jury acquitted a prisoner
whom the evidence clearly indicated had sand-bagged an innocent citizen.
The judge had no option but to discharge the notorious character whom
the jury of his peers had exonerated. "You may go," said the indignant
judge, "but it seems to me that you would be doing good service to this
country if you sand-bagged every man on that jury."
[Illustration: SUPT. CONSTANTINE IN WINTER UNIFORM ON THE YUKON.]
[Illustration: PIEGAN INDIANS AT SUN-DANCE.]
While the gold-rush of which we have been writing was at its height in
the Yukon there were rumblings of conflict on the dark continent where
Paul Kruger, the grim old President of the Boer Republic, was getting
ready to launch a war which he said would "stagger humanity." The
trouble had been brewing for some years. Many thousands of British men
were in the Transvaal, developing its resources, adding to its wealth
and doing everything for its upbuilding but without the privileges of
citizenship. And these British men were agitating for representation in
addition to the taxation they already enjoyed for the benefit of the
Boers. It is doubtful whether Canadians generally took much trouble to
investigate these questions of franchise and suzerainty, which have
always had two sides up for discussion. Canada was willing to trust the
judgment of British statesmen on the subject, and when Britain is at war
Canada is not disposed to stand back. Conan Doyle probably sensed the
situation when he wrote the stirring lines:
"Who's that calling?
The old sea-mother calls
In her pride at the children that she bore
'Oh, noble hearts and true
There is work for us to do,
And we'll do it as we've done it oft before
Under the flag,
Under the flag our fathers bore.'"
There had been a swift sting, too, in a certain telegram sent by the
Kaiser of Germany congratulating Kruger on the failure of the raid under
Doctor Jamieson, for "Doctor Jim" was a popular idol. And the rather
crude but strong lines of a music-hall song had percolated to the
outposts of Empire:
"Hands off, Germany; hands off, all.
Kruger boasts and Kaiser brags.
Britons, hear the call.
It's back to back around the world
And answer with a will;
It's England for her own, my boys,
And Rule Britannia still."
So the "sons of the Blood" began to foregather from the ends of the
earth.
And when cavalry units were desired from Canada the Mounted Police got a
certain degree of opportunity. We put it in that way because for reasons
known to the Dominion Government there was always necessity for keeping
the larger part of the corps in Canada. They could not be allowed to
enlist in a body for any war, and men who had special grasp of the
problems at home could not be spared to go abroad. Nothing can be gained
for the Empire through losing ground at home in efforts to gain it
abroad. And this applied to both the Boer War and the recent Great War,
in so far as the Mounted Police were concerned. At the Boer War period,
we had the Yukon rush, which meant an extraordinary mob of desperate
characters to deal with, in addition to the problems ensuing from large
immigration into the Middle West. And at the period of the Great War,
there was a singularly elusive but definitely pronounced tendency to
destructive revolution in various parts of Canada, which only a corps
with the great prestige of the Mounted Police could successfully meet
with firmness and tact. The undisciplined violence which raw forces
might use in such a restless, mutinous period, would work positive harm
to the whole Dominion. Hence we could not on either occasion let the
whole Force go abroad.
But on both occasions some opportunity was given to a certain number of
officers and men, the main difficulty being, as the Commissioner said,
"not who would go, but who _must_ stay at home." However, in the Boer
War the Mounted Police furnished, most being on the active roll, but
some ex-members, nearly 300 officers and men to the Canadian Mounted
Rifles, Strathcona's Horse, South African Constabulary, and other corps.
Their identity was lost by merging them with various units, but,
nevertheless, they did conspicuous and distinctive service. It is no
reflection on those with whom they were merged to say that the special
qualities which came from years of discipline and esprit de corps, as
well as the decided initiative which their training on the frontier
always developed, gave the Police a place of peculiar influence and
prominence on the veld. And this was true of ex-members of the Force who
served in various corps. There was "Charlie" Ross, for instance, whom I
recall meeting at Battleford in Riel's day as the Mounted Police scout
who seemed to bear a charmed life, and who did much to save the
situation in the fight with Poundmaker at Cutknife Hill. Ross went to
South Africa as a sort of free lance, but he joined up with a scout
body, and so distinguished himself that he was permitted to form a corps
of his own which, as Ross's Scouts, did some dashing service. All the
Western Canadians gave a good account of themselves. They were not
strong on the fine points of military etiquette, and sometimes offended
by failing to recognize and salute officers in strange uniforms. They
were rather restive in barracks, and did not take kindly to the life in
Cape Town, but they were at home when in the saddle on really active
duty, and got their full share of it before the war was over. Their
presence on the veld and their effective work won high praise from such
high-class officers as Sir Redvers Buller, Lord Dundonald, Lord
Kitchener and, later on, in London, "the first gentleman of Europe,"
King Edward himself.
A thoroughly characteristic story is told by several writers about a
C.M.R. man who had been a cowboy and "bronco-buster" in Alberta. An
Imperial Regiment, under General Hutton, was bewailing the fact that
they had a magnificent black Australian horse, a regular outlaw so
vicious and powerful that none of their men could handle, much less ride
him, and they were quite sure that no one else could, so that the animal
might as well be shot. One of the C.M.R. officers who was present said
some men in his troop could ride, and he would ask them about it. He
went over and several of them volunteered, but they settled amongst
themselves that Billy should tackle the situation. Next morning was the
time fixed, and Billy, in cowboy costume, carrying his own trusty saddle
and a quirt, sauntered over to the spot careless-like, and not knowing
the insignia of rank very well, walked up to an Imperial officer in gold
lace, and prodding him jocularly with the quirt, said, "Where is the
black son of a gun that you say can't be rid?" The officer looked amazed
at being so accosted, but, like a good sport, laughed and ordered the
horse to be turned loose. Billy's friends promptly lassoed the "waler,"
hogtied and saddled him in a hurry. Billy was in the saddle when the
snorting animal was on his feet. The horse put up a game fight, bucking,
kicking, biting, "swapping ends," and doing everything else that a
thinking bronco can indulge in to get rid of his rider. But Billy
enjoyed it. He banged the horse over the head with his big hat, smote
him with the quirt, and used the spurs, till the mad animal raced in
fury a mile or two, only to come back with froth down to the hooves. But
Billy had him under thorough control, quiet enough to eat out of his
hand. And when Billy pulled off the saddle he remarked casually to the
astonished officers who had expected an inquest over him, "Out in my
country that hoss would cut no figure, for out there we can ride
anything with legs under it, even if it is a consarned centipede." The
Canadian Mounted Rifles 1st, 2nd and 5th, had some 220 officers and men
of the Mounted Police, while Strathcona's Horse had only some forty or
so, though the rest were men accustomed to the kind of irregular warfare
they found on the veld. The fact that Strathcona's Horse was raised,
equipped and wholly paid for out of the private purse of Lord
Strathcona, the only case in the Empire during the war, gave that corps
a unique place in the public eye. Lord Strathcona, who was a member of
the House of Lords and High Commissioner for Canada, placed it in
command of Superintendent Sam B. Steele, a widely known officer,
entertained the corps lavishly both before and after the war, fitted it
out as no other regiment was equipped, brought the officers and men into
contact with Royalty, kept it more or less in touch with the Associated
Press--and all of this tended to put this regiment more in the limelight
than others from Canada. This, of course, did not make their task any
easier, but rather the contrary, since any failure on their part would
have been quickly known. As a matter of history they did their part in
such a way as to bring the utmost credit to all concerned. The corps was
officered by highly capable men. The Mounted Police officers, serving in
Strathcona's Horse were: Superintendent S. B. Steele (in command),
Inspectors R. Belcher, A. E. Snyder, A. M. Jarvis, D. M. Howard, F. L.
Cartwright and F. Harper: included also were, Ex-Inspector M. H.
White-Fraser, Sergt.-Major W. Parker and Staff-Sergt. H. D. B. Ketchen.
The two last named were granted commissions in the Army and Colonial
Forces. The commissions of the other officers of this corps were all in
the Imperial service. Strathcona's Horse took part in many major
engagements, did much scout and patrol work, and one of the Mounted
Police serving in it, Sergeant A. H. L. Richardson, on July 5, 1900, won
the highest of all the decorations for valour, the Victoria Cross. At a
hot engagement in the village of Wolvespruit the odds were so heavy
against our men that they were given the order to retire. One of our
dismounted men, wounded in two places, lay on the field, and Sergeant
Richardson, seeing his plight, rode back and brought him in, although
exposed to a warm cross-fire at close range, and despite the fact that
Richardson's horse was so badly wounded that he could only go at a slow
pace. It was a very gallant action.
When at the close of the main part of the war the South African
Constabulary was formed, Steele, of the Strathcona's, was appointed its
Colonel, and much "mopping up" was done in the pursuit of irregular Boer
bands. Inspector Scarth, Constables C. P. Ermatinger, and J. G. French
were given commissions. For their service with the 2nd and 5th C.M.R.,
Inspectors John Taylor, Demers, Sergt.-Major J. Richards, Sergt.-Major
F. Church, Sergeant Hillian, Sergeant H. R. Skirving, Constables A. N.
Bredin and J. A. Ballantyne were also granted commissions.
I have mentioned certain circumstances which set Strathcona's Horse more
in the public eye than the Canadian Mounted Rifles, in which the
majority of the North-West Mounted Police served, but the latter took a
part in the war which involved much hard fighting, and did much to
enhance the prestige of Canadian soldiers, whose service abroad up to
that time had not been in military units. The North-West Mounted Police
officers who joined the various units of the C.M.R. and received
commissions in the Militia were: (2nd C.M.R.) Lieut.-Colonel L. W.
Herchmer (the then Commissioner of the Police, who commanded the
battalion), Superintendent J. Howe, Inspector A. G. Macdonnell
(afterwards in command of 5th C.M.R.), Inspector J. D. Moodie, Inspector
J. V. Begin, Inspector T. A. Wroughton, Superintendent G. E. Sanders,
Inspector A. E. R. Cuthbert, Inspector H. J. A. Davidson, Inspector
F. L. Cosby (Adjutant), Inspector M. Baker (Quartermaster), Inspector
J. B. Allan, and Veterinary Officer Lieut. R. Riddell. These officers
and the men they commanded were intent upon their duties, and such able
soldiers as General Hutton, General Lord Methuen, and others, gave them
unstinted praise for their work in the Orange Free State and their
advance guard work on the march to Pretoria, under Lord Roberts, who was
greatly impressed by their ability in scouting and patrol work.
It fell to the lot of that able and popular officer, Superintendent
(Major) G. E. Sanders, to show on two special occasions, with small
detachments against large odds, the mettle of the North-West Mounted
Police. Near Middleburg, when Sanders with 125 men was guarding the
railway, he was attacked by a considerable force of the enemy with
artillery. A hurry call for reinforcements was issued, but before they
came the Canadians had beaten the Boers back, Major Sanders and
Lieutenant Moodie, as well as some of their men, being wounded in the
determined resistant fight. Two months later, Sanders, with a handful of
sixty men, formed the advance guard for General Smith-Dorien's column,
but his guide missed the way and all of a sudden Sanders and his men,
completely out of touch with the General's column, came in contact with
a larger force of the enemy. The rifle fire of the enemy was very heavy,
but the handful of Canadians held on till orders came from the General
to retire. While they were retiring Corporal Schell's horse was killed,
and the corporal was hurt by the horse falling on him. Sergeant Tryon
most gallantly gave his own horse to Schell and himself continued on
foot. And then Major Sanders, taking in the situation at a glance,
galloped to the assistance of Tryon, whom he endeavoured to take before
him on the saddle. It was a splendid effort, but, as Sanders endeavoured
to lift Tyron, the saddle cinch slipped, the saddle turned to the side
of the horse, and both men fell heavily to the ground. Sanders was
stunned somewhat by the fall, but pulling himself together ordered the
Sergeant to make for cover and he would follow. But a Boer sharpshooter
dropped Sanders wounded in his tracks. Then another fine thing took
place. Lieutenant Chalmers, a former Mounted Policeman also, who had led
one wing of the advance guard, wheeled his horse and spurred to the help
of Sanders, but he was unable to move him alone, and started for the
firing line. The Boer sharpshooter was still abroad and, turning his
attention to Chalmers, shot that brave officer, who fell mortally
wounded from his horse. Major Sanders and Tryon were both rescued by a
rush of reinforcements, and the Major is still doing effective service
for the country as Magistrate in Calgary. It would seem to an onlooker
that the decoration "for valour" should have been awarded to Sanders for
his gallant and dangerous endeavour to rescue Tryon, and in a posthumous
way to Chalmers, who sacrificed his life in the effort he made to save
his superior officer. One recalls in this connection the similar action
of former Inspector Jack French, whom I recall well as a stranger to
fear, who at Batoche rushed in on foot and carried the wounded body of
Constable Cook in his powerful arms from the fire zone to a place of
safety. Many of the sacrificial deeds of men are unheralded.
Officially, the officers and men of the North-West Mounted Police who
served in the Boer War, were noted as on leave from their own corps, and
therefore their services to the Empire are not recorded in the Police
reports. But Commissioner Perry, in this particular case, gives in his
annual report an extract from Militia orders, in which Lord Roberts
wires the War Office: "Smith-Dorien stated Major Sanders, Captain
Chalmers, behaved with great gallantry rear-guard action, November 2."
To this the Commissioner adds: "I greatly lament the untimely but
glorious death of the gallant Chalmers, with whom I had not only served
as an officer in this corps, but also as a cadet in the Royal Military
College."
And then the Commissioner expresses this well-grounded opinion: "I
regret much that the identity of the Force was lost in South Africa. The
North-West Mounted Police are well known beyond the bounds of Canada.
And I would like that it had been known to the world as one of the corps
which had taken part in the South African War. With but few exceptions
all ranks were willing to go, and it was not a question of who would go,
but who must stay at home." This is well and wisely expressed. If ever
there should be another war, which we hope not, unless absolutely
unavoidable, Canada should strive to have her units kept intact.
Destruction of identity leads to destruction of great traditions to
which men should be true, and to the loss of the esprit de corps and
_noblesse oblige_ elements, which go so far to creating unconquerable
regiments.
At the end of the war, in addition to the Victoria Cross won by Sergeant
Richardson, as already related, the following honours, gained by members
of the North-West Mounted Police while on service in South Africa, were
announced in general orders:
_To be Companion of the Bath and Member of the Victoria Order, 4th
Class:_
Superintendent S. B. Steele, Lieut.-Colonel commanding Lord Strathcona's
Horse.
_To be Companions of the Order of St. Michael and St. George:_
Inspector R. Belcher, Major 2nd in command, Canadian Mounted Rifles.
Inspector A. C. Macdonnell, Captain Canadian Mounted Rifles.
Inspector F. L. Cartwright, Captain Lord Strathcona's Horse.
_Awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal:_
Sergeant J. Hynes, Sergt.-Major Lord Strathcona's Horse.
Sergt.-Major Richards, Sqd. Sergt.-Major Lord Strathcona's Horse.
Constable A. S. Waite, Private Canadian Mounted Rifles.
The conclusion of the Boer War, with the additional service in the South
African Constabulary, marked the transference of Colonel Sam B. Steele
from the North-West Mounted Police to the Militia service of Canada, as
he was appointed to the command of Military District No. 13, with
headquarters at Calgary, though later he took over Military District No.
10, with headquarters at Winnipeg. He was one of the "originals" of the
Police, joining up in 1873, and became one of the distinctive and
picturesque figures in the famous Frontier Force. Capable of an enormous
amount of work in a given time, he had never spared himself in efforts
for the country and for the Force. He had large gifts as an
administrator, as well as a fighter and enforcer of law, and these he
placed unstintedly at the disposal of his generation. When he left the
Police Force and accepted service in the Canadian Militia, he did much
to recognize existing work and establish new units. When the Great War
broke out he offered his services at once, and while waiting for
overseas service he was intent on recruiting all over Canada. He went
over in command of the Second Contingent from Canada, but the tremendous
strain of his forty years of service began to tell on his once powerful
physique, and to his deep disappointment he was prevented from leading
his men in the field. In recognition of his services to the Empire he
received Knighthood and a Major-Generalship, which represented a long
and strenuous road travelled up from the ranks. He died in England while
the war was still raging, and a funeral service in London was attended
by a great number of people prominent in the world of affairs. But his
body was brought back to Canada, the land he loved so well, and was
buried with full military honours in Winnipeg, the city to which he had
come long years before as a soldier under Wolseley.
It is not generally known that, though he had not been in the Force for
nearly twenty years, one of his last acts was the writing of an
earnestly worded and, under the circumstances, a pathetic letter, to Sir
Robert Borden, Premier of Canada, then in London, pleading for the full
recognition of the military standing of the Mounted Police in Canada. In
that letter he recounts out of his own recollection the history of the
corps in which he had served from the outset for some thirty years. He
recalls the work they had done as a military force on what was really
active service all through the years, points out the high military
qualifications of the men who were officers in the corps, as well as the
uniformly high type of men in all ranks, to the large contributions the
Mounted Police had made to the Empire in wars abroad, and spoke of the
heavy responsibility resting upon the Force in the Dominion. He said: "I
question whether the present command of Canadians overseas in England is
equal to the great responsibility held by the Commissioner of the
Mounted Police and his Assistant in Canada." The letter asks the Premier
to do certain things for the officers and men, the effect of which would
be to give them equal rights with members of the permanent Militia Force
in respect of titles, decorations and general standing. And the result
of the requests, if granted, would be to place the Mounted Police in the
same position as the Militia in regard to medals, pensions and land
grants, a matter of great interest and importance to the members of the
Force. There is something very fine in this personal endeavour of "Sam"
Steele, who, with many anxieties and responsibilities of his own at the
time, made a serious appeal to obtain what he considered the rights of
the comrades with whom he had shared hardships and dangers all over the
vast North-West of Canada. A copy of this letter of Steele's, which was
occasioned by changes then taking place in the Police organization, came
into my possession from a private source, but it is not a confidential
document, and is published here in recognition of the enduring loyalty
of this sturdy old soldier to his companions, the veteran riders of the
plains. They richly deserve the recognition for which he pleaded.
And we cannot turn over the page of the Boer War and leave it in history
without recalling that a few pages above reference was made to the fact
that Canada had gone into the war more because she had faith in the
judgment of the statesmen of Britain, whose life-long training and
world-vision inspire confidence in their decisions, than because she had
studied out the situation at first hand. British statesmen have made
mistakes here and there, but since the tragic day when through ignorance
of the situation they failed to recognize the rights of British
colonists on the American continent to have a voice in the government of
the country, they have not erred by refusing their Dominions overseas
the privilege of governing themselves where they have proved their
capacity for so doing. But there was a bold and world-startling faith
manifested when they granted self-government to the Boers within a short
time after the war ended. True, these same statesmen had led up to it by
the ministry of reconciliation exercised by the high-souled Kitchener
with a Canadian Mounted Policeman, Colonel Steele, a noted
administrator, as Chief of the South African Constabulary. And these and
others who worked with them to remove bitterness and misunderstanding
from the minds of the conquered Boers had supporting evidence of
good-will on the part of the conquerors in the fact that our soldiers
had acted chivalrously in the enemy's country during the years of war,
so that no woman or child in all that region was ever knowingly hurt or
molested. All this with the gift of responsibility transformed our
gallant enemies into loyal friends who stood by us splendidly in the
recent war, and who contributed to the councils of the Empire in a
critical hour the magnificent ability and statesmanship of Botha, Smuts
and others.
Meanwhile, in the homeland here in Canada, the steadfast, unflinching
and imperturbable Mounted Police were doing their duty just as
pronouncedly as their comrades on the veld. They had practically all
wanted to go if required, but the Government had interposed and, as we
have already quoted, it was not a question of who should go, but who
_must_ stay at home. And they were greatly needed here, for nothing is
gained by consolidating the Empire abroad if we allow it to disintegrate
right under our eyes and around our own threshold. The Pax
Britannica--the orderliness of British rule--had to be preserved in the
vast spaces of the North and West of Canada. Thousands of potentially
lawless men were surging through our mining country in the Yukon,
challenging Canadian administration with the dictum that huge frontier
mining camps had necessarily to be outlaw regions where every man did
that which was right in his own eyes. And it became the duty of the
Mounted Police to back the administration of law, to answer the
challenge of lawless men, and to prove to them and to the world that the
dictum above quoted was a lie in so far as Canada was concerned. And
these intrepid men in the scarlet tunic did their duty so well that the
world learned a new lesson by seeing policemen preserving order without
killing anyone where it could be avoided, even at the cost of their own
lives. The Mounted Police know how to use their "guns," but they never
in all their history degenerated into "gun-men."
And, in addition to policing the Yukon mining country, these few hundred
men had to guard human life and property in the immense stretches of the
Middle West where, into a country larger than several European kingdoms,
tens of thousands were pouring in a tidal wave of immigration. From the
ends of the earth these immigrants were coming, hosts of them, alien in
race and tongue, as well as in religion and morals--people who had lax
ideas as to the sacredness of human life and the sanctity of home. They,
too, must be taught to keep the peace, and to become loyal to the
institutions of the free land where they had sought asylum from
despotism and oppression. And nothing but consummate tact, endless
patience along with unvarying coolness and courage, enabled the men of
the old corps successfully to meet this unprecedented situation.
Besides, all that great north country had to be patrolled hither and
thither into the circle under the shadow of the Pole itself. Wherever
the flag flew, Indians and Esquimaux, as wards of the nation, had to be
protected against the dangers of famine, the inroads of sickness, as
well as from the exploitation of unscrupulous men. And they, too, had to
be taught the sacredness of human life, as well as the rights of private
ownership, in order that no loose ideas about property should prevail in
the land. Few things, if any, in the history of the Empire equal the
hardiness, the courage and endurance manifested in the great patrols of
the Police into the ice-bound regions of the Arctic and sub-Arctic areas
of Canada. For years the explorers who have searched for the Poles have
been the heroes of many a story of thrilling influence on the minds of
readers. One would not detract an iota from the achievements of these
gallant adventurers. But for the most part they were equipped and
outfitted abundantly with everything that money could buy in order that
all requirements and emergencies could be met as they arose, and their
expeditions were few throughout the years. The Mounted Police, on the
other hand, were incessantly at this work, not in parties and highly
equipped, but in twos and threes and sometimes singly, with nothing
beyond their winter and summer uniforms and dependent largely on their
own efforts for food, as they were not possessed of the means of
carrying any large quantity. Many of these men probably said, as
Inspector F. H. French recorded in his diary during the famous Bathurst
Inlet patrol, of which we shall read later: "Have had no solid food for
two days, and every one is getting weak; dogs are dropping in their
harness from weakness. This looks like our last patrol." Only a brave
man could write down words like that, and it detracts nothing from the
splendid courage of him and his men that the words were not long written
when providentially some deer were sent across their path and saved
these men for future work. These men who went out on patrol only gave
the barest outline of their experience in the reports which they had to
make to their superior officers, and through them to Ottawa, but those
who know the country could read between the lines and feel the thrill of
admiration and wonder. And these same officers, when not on the
particular patrol they were commenting upon, paid unstinted praise to
their men in their own reports, but even these reports were buried in
the mass of material in the Department, so that the public did not see
them. But once in a while we get hold of some comment, as when
Superintendent Perry referred to one patrol and said "nothing greater
had been done in the annals of Arctic exploration." Or when Inspector
Sanders referred to the leader of another patrol and said his action
"was in keeping with his brave and manly character." And I like the way
in which Superintendent A. E. C. Macdonnell, with some manifest
diffidence, introduced into a report from Athabasca Landing the
following quotation from the _Toronto Star_:
"The world takes a lively interest in Polar expeditions, but Canada
supports a Northern Police patrol of which very little is heard,
and the journeyings of some of these men is quite as daring as
anything connected with searches for the North or South Pole. They
contend with the same conditions, are inexpensively equipped, and,
as a rule, succeed in all that they undertake. A sheet or two of
foolscap, giving to the Department at Ottawa an official report of
their travels and observations, is the only record that survives.
And very few ever read these records, although they sometimes
thrill those who do read them."
One other important duty fell to the lot of these Policemen in the home
country, and reference has been made to it in the earlier pages, namely,
the self-imposed duty of becoming builders of the country by making
known the resources of all its various parts. And when they made known
the resources of the country they, without any gain therefrom
themselves, protected those who came in to develop them. Sometimes they
had to protect these people against themselves. In the Yukon gold rush
the Police threw a cordon around the entrances to the mining country and
prevented foolhardy, unfit and unequipped men and women, crazed with the
gold lust, from venturing a journey which would have meant their falling
frozen by the wayside or being lost in the angry rapids, which even the
inexperienced were ready in their ignorance to essay. These gold-seekers
were allowed to go in when they were prepared or when they were under
the care of men of experience. Similarly, at the time of this writing,
the Police in the Athabasca, Peace and Mackenzie areas are guarding the
ways to the reported oil fields of the North, so that the unfit in their
wild desire for reaching oilfields may not perish in the midwinter,
whose rigours they do not understand.
Yes, the Mounted Police, few and scattered in detachments, from the
Great Lakes to the Yukon, and from the boundary line to the Pole, had
enormous responsibilities at home, while many of their fellow-citizens
were abroad in the Boer War. And the man who was Commissioner of the
Police during that period had a burden to carry which only those who
knew the situation can estimate. That man was Superintendent A. Bowen
Perry, who succeeded Colonel Lawrence Herchmer in August, 1900, but who,
from the time of the big gold stampede into the Yukon, had largely the
direction of things there, and had taken over the command personally at
Dawson City when Steele left there in the fall of 1899. Colonel
Herchmer, who had been Commissioner from 1886, was an able and
conscientious officer. He had gone over to the Boer War in command of
the 2nd Canadian Mounted Rifles, but had to come back on sick leave,
when he retired also from the Commissionership. From the date of
Herchmer's appointment to the Canadian Mounted Rifles to Perry's
accession to the Commissionership of the Police, the command of the
latter body had been ably held and administered by Assistant
Commissioner McIlree. Colonel McIlree, who retired from the Force a few
years ago, and whose services won the recognition of the Imperial
Service Order, was one of the original men of the corps, having joined
at the outset in 1873. He had, therefore, a long record of highly
important and creditable service when he retired in 1911, after
thirty-seven years on the frontier.
[Illustration: REV. R.G. MACBETH, M.A.]
[Illustration: GROUP, N.W.M.P., TAGISH POST. YUKON.]
When Perry returned from the Yukon (where he was succeeded by that fine
officer, Superintendent, later Assistant Commissioner, Z. T. Wood) and
assumed the Commissionership he faced an exceedingly difficult
situation. The Force was seriously depleted both in men and horses by
the inroads made upon it by the war. And at the same time the work, as
above outlined, was growing by leaps and bounds. True, recruits were
being obtained and new horses were being purchased, but every one knows
that it takes time and training to get a depleted force up to proper
strength again. But the new Commissioner had a genius for organizing and
handling men, and, as he had been away in the Yukon for a period, one of
the first things he now did was to visit the prairie detachments, study
the whole and map out a policy for the future. Conditions in the country
with rapidly changing development as well as in the Force, owing to
demands upon it, required a sort of re-creating of the famous corps, as
well as a new disposition of it to meet the new times. And Commissioner
Perry, with a great faculty for swift, decisive action, and a gift for
attracting the cooperative efforts of his officers and men, was the type
to undertake the task and succeed. Now, for a score of years he has
directed the movements of the Force, meeting the extraordinary and
unexpected situations which arise in a country that is a sort of
melting-pot of the nations. A polyglot population, a babel not only of
tongues but of ideals, the rise of new social conditions, the presence
of agitators and mischief-makers who are experts in setting men against
each other in opposing classes, the coming of destructive agents whose
theories have made some old world countries into ramshackle wrecks, the
persistence of the elements of lawlessness with outbreaks here and
there--all these and much more have marked the unprecedented history of
these years in this last new country in the world. And Canada, perhaps,
will never fully realize the debt she owes to this quiet, gentlemanly,
resolute man, who is a student as well as a soldier, and whose strong
hand has been in constant evidence in controlling, guiding and guarding
the interests of a country larger than half a dozen European kingdoms.
When Perry took charge, the Force, outside those at the war, numbered
some 750 men. These were distributed so as to give about 500 to the
oversight of the vast Middle West and the balance to the Yukon. The men
in the Middle West prairie section were scattered in over seventy
detachments all the way from Southern Manitoba to Fort Chipewyan in the
far North, a distance of over 2,000 miles, while in the Yukon the
distance between the most southerly outposts and the farthest North was
over 500 miles. Anyone who knows the country can realize the task of men
who had to look after such an enormous area, when their number meant
that one or two men would sometimes have to exercise control over
districts many miles in extent. These men had to be constantly in the
saddle or on the trail with dog-train. Verily Captain Butler's early
suggestion as to organization of the Police, that the men sent out
should be a "mobile force," was being amply vindicated as a good one to
meet the necessities of a new land. And that the new Commissioner was
looking ahead is evidenced by such clauses in his first report as "The
great countries of the Peace, Mackenzie and Athabasca Rivers are
constantly requiring more men. I am sending an officer to Fort
Saskatchewan to take command of that portion of the territory." Later he
says: "The operation of foreign whalers at the mouth of the Mackenzie
will ere long require a detachment to control their improper dealings
with the natives and control the revenue." And in due course they were
there.
In that first report Perry indicates that "the Force should be entirely
re-armed." A lot of the men had obsolete arms, and the Commissioner
insists that "if the corps is to be armed it ought to be well armed." He
suggests a change from the heavy stock saddle and accoutrements thereof,
claiming that with some 46 lbs. on his back before the rider mounted,
the horse had a right to ask: "Why this heavy burden?" And he speaks of
necessary changes in harness, transports and uniforms. He discusses the
question of the kind of horses required, even to the colour, and
indicates ranges of country where horses can be bred that are "strong in
the hindquarters." Quite evidently the new Commissioner had his eye on
everything, and intended to have the corps equipped up to the limit of
efficiency and comfort. He was going to speak out in the interests of
his men and horses, too. For a mounted corps must have regard to both if
the maximum of usefulness is to be attained.
The reports of officers in the Middle West for that year,
Superintendents Deane of MacLeod, Griesbach of Fort Saskatchewan,
Moffatt of Maple Creek, Inspector Wilson of Calgary, Strickland of
Prince Albert, and Demers of Battleford, all indicate a good deal of
cattle-stealing, the most of which, of course, was near the American
boundary line, where outlaws from both sides dodged backwards and
forwards in efforts to escape the authorities on either side, who
co-operated and generally got these robbers in hold, But Deane felt that
the ranchers themselves should exercise a little more intelligent
interest, instead of leaving everything to the Police, who were few in
numbers, and none of whom could be in more than one place at a time.
Referring to the case of a man who had bought some cattle and had left
them unbranded and unwatched in the pasture whence they disappeared in
the night, Deane says, "Daly became very indignant, and has talked
freely about bringing an action against the Mounted Police, but whether
for allowing him to lose his beasts or for failing to find them I know
not." However, Mr. Daly evidently concluded that he had no case against
the Police, for he is not heard from again.
Up in the Yukon that year, as already mentioned, Superintendent Z. T.
Wood was in command of the territory, with Inspector Courtlandt Starnes
in charge at Dawson, and Superintendent P. C. H. Primrose at White
Horse, and Assistant Surgeon Fraser on Dalton Trail. Besides these
officers there were Inspectors J. A. McGibbon, W. H. Routledge, W. H.
Scarth, A. E. C. McDonnell, as well as Assistant Surgeons Pare, Madore
and Hurdman.
It was a time of general and reasonably stable prosperity, as evidenced
by the fact that the men in Starnes' Division collected well up to a
million dollars in royalties in the mining areas, the banner section
being Grand Forks, including Eldorado, Bonanza and tributaries where
Staff-Sergeant (later Inspector) Raven gathered nearly $520,000. The
Government was spending freely for the oversight of the Yukon, but was
getting back big dividends.
It is interesting to note in Starnes' report this significant clause:
"To the early resident of Dawson the present sanitary condition of the
town must be a source of congratulation and a matter of satisfaction."
For thereby hangs a tale redolent with a record of hard work. In the
spring of 1899 a Board of Health had been formed, under the general
oversight of the Mounted Police, for Superintendent Steele (later
succeeded by Superintendent Perry) was chairman, Corporal Wilson (though
not on the Board) Sanitary Inspector, H. Grotchie and Dr. J. W. Good
succeeding Dr. Thompson, who was the first medical officer, but had gone
on leave. The year 1898 had been fever-scourged and haunted by a plague
of scurvy, due largely to the lack of vegetables and fruit it was said.
Dr. Good determined that this condition, resulting from the rush of
thousands of people to camp on a frozen swamp, would not recur, and when
Dr. Good made his mind up and contracted those heavy black brows of his
something had to be done or he would know the reason why.
Dr. Good was a noted specialist in Winnipeg from the early days--a man
of powerful physique, wide general education, and a grim kind of manner,
which was redeemed from dourness by the constant bubbling up of the
irrepressible humour which made him a most entertaining companion. He
went into Dawson over the passes in the big trek principally from sheer
love of the adventure, as most would say (and he had the adventurous
spirit), but largely, I imagine, to be of service in what, to his
practised understanding, might become a death camp. He had no need of
seeking wealth, as his practice had always brought large revenue from
the well-to-do, though a lot of poor people got no bills for his
services. Dr. Good was and is (for he is still happily with us) a
distinct type, and I say this out of personal acquaintance through many
years. His battle for the health of the people of Dawson and districts
was great and successful. He gives a semi-humorous report of it in a
formal report to the Mounted Police Department. From it we make an
extract: The Doctor says, "The duties of the Medical Health Officer were
somewhat varied. I will give you a summary of them. Firstly, to inspect
hospitals from time to time; secondly, to see indigents at his office or
their homes, if necessary, and to examine them and see if they could be
admitted to hospital. Thirdly, to inspect the water supply. Fourthly, to
inspect the food and aid in the prosecution of those selling food unfit
for use. Fifthly, to visit all vessels arriving, and when fish, cattle
or food were on board, inspect everything before it can be landed.
Sixthly, to inspect all cattle, sheep and hogs before they could be
slaughtered to see if they were healthy, from which it must be inferred
that the Medical Health Officer had studied veterinary medicine as well.
I regret to say this was not the case." (This was the Doctor's modesty,
but Steele says the knowledge of veterinary science he displayed was
remarkable.) And then the Doctor adds in his humorous way: "Now, from
the above, it must be plain that the Medical Health Officer led an
exceedingly active and useful life." And we agree with him. And the
Doctor goes on to give us a vivid picture of conditions in Dawson City
when he took hold: "We found practically one vast swamp, which is
usually navigable in the early spring, still in almost a primitive
condition, or even worse, cesspools and filth of all kinds occupying
irregular positions, typhoid fever and scurvy rife in the land. We
immediately went to work to put the house in order, getting out all the
garbage and refuse on the ice in the early spring, so that it might be
carried down the river at the break up. We then specified places at
which garbage, etc., should be dumped. We had the streets cleaned, by
prison and other labour, had offensive material removed and rubbish
burnt, while the Governor, with great vigour, inaugurated a system of
drainage, so that in a short time the change excited the wonder and
admiration of the people." The doctor is evidently fond of Scriptural
phrases, for above he has spoken about "putting the house in order," and
now he adds: "We had, of course, some difficulties to contend with, the
fact that people to a large extent were 'strangers and pilgrims,' and
unaccustomed to any restrictions unless those of a primitive order." But
the Doctor, with the aid of the Mounted Police officers already named,
as well as Corporals Wilson, McPhail and the men generally, triumphed
and made the place healthy. Perhaps there is nothing more remarkable in
the record of the Police than the way in which, wherever they were
stationed, they always fought epidemics and disease amongst Indians or
whites or Esquimaux to the utter disregard of their own safety, though
it was not necessarily part of their ordinary duty.
How close an oversight was kept by the Mounted Police as to the
movements of people in that wild country is evidenced by the fact that
men could not "disappear" between the Police posts or elsewhere without
their case giving rise to swift inquiry. If they left one point for
another and did not arrive in a reasonable time the fact was in the
knowledge of the Police, and they immediately started to trace the
missing parties to see whether they had gone lost through missing the
trail or had vanished off the earth by the hands of murderous
characters. All this comes out in the famous case of one O'Brien who was
tried and executed at Dawson for one of the most cold-blooded crimes
imaginable. As I was writing, at this point a letter came from Mr. H. P.
Hansen, of Winnipeg, who said he had stayed at Fossal's road-house in
the Upper Yukon about two weeks before O'Brien committed his triple
murder. He and O'Brien were the only guests and had started out on the
trail together. Hansen says, "No doubt this man had murder in his heart
at the time," but as he had no knowledge of the fact that Hansen carried
money carefully concealed, O'Brien, probably with some disgust, did
nothing. That O'Brien "had murder in his heart" is more than likely,
because when his trial came off a "Bowery tough" who had been in prison
with him in Dawson for some other offence testified that O'Brien had
proposed that they should, when freed, go along the river and find a
lonely spot. Here they should camp, shoot men who were coming out from
Dawson with money, put their bodies under the ice, and thus cover their
tracks. This was too much of a programme for even the "Bowery tough,"
but it shows O'Brien's disposition. O'Brien, however, seems to have
decided to haunt that trail till he could make a killing, and so he
seems to have doubled back after leaving Hansen and landed at Fossal's
road-house again, whence he started out with three men on Christmas Day
of 1899. The three men were Olsen, a Swede, who was a telegraph line
repairer, and two men from Dawson, F. Clayson, of Seattle, and L.
Relphe, who had been a "caller-off" in a Dawson dance-hall. Clayson was
known to have a large sum of money on him, and he became the particular
object of O'Brien's attention, but because "dead men tell no tales" the
others had to share in the disaster, and O'Brien, at an opportune time
in a camping-place, as afterwards transpired, shot all three men first
through the body and then through the head to make sure. There was no
human witness to the event. But when these men did not turn up at the
next point on the trail, and O'Brien did, the Police began rapid
investigation. If there were no eye-witnesses in the case a web of
circumstantial evidence would have to be woven around the figure of the
fourth man of the party if the facts that would emerge justified it.
This was done with consummate skill but with absolute fairness by the
Mounted Police, Inspector Scarth, officer commanding at Fort Selkirk,
being the directing hand, Corporal Ryan doing some important parts and
Constable Pennycuick being the "Sherlock Holmes" genius whose keen
detective instincts and arduous persistent work won high praise from the
judge at the trial, being those mainly instrumental in bringing this
cold-blooded and cruel murderer to justice. The Police have always had a
free hand as to expense in the enforcement of law, and the O'Brien case
ran up a bill of over $100,000. But the reputation built up throughout
the years by these guardians of public safety, that they would get a
criminal if they had to follow him to the ends of the earth, saved the
Dominions uncounted expenditure in other ways, and established Canada in
the opinion of the world as a country where desirable citizens could
come, build homes, rear their families and pursue their avocations freer
from molestation than in any other similarly situated place on the face
of earth. And that was an enormous gain for a new land which needed
immigrants to populate its vast territory and develop its immense latent
resources.
Somewhat briefly, the way the Police got O'Brien was in this fashion.
The Police, as above mentioned, kept close "tab" on travellers by trail
or river for the sake of their safety, and a few days after Olsen,
Relphe, Clayson and O'Brien left Fossal's road-house at Minto, Sergeant
Barker, who was in charge at Five Fingers, and who had been notified of
their departure, wired to White Horse that the party had not been heard
of since. And the wires were kept hot in all directions, while patrols
also were sent out to locate the men who had not turned up at the usual
points. At that time murder was not necessarily a theory connected with
their disappearance. Nearly ten days after Christmas the alert Police at
Tagish post saw a man with horse and sleigh making a detour of the trail
on passing their quarters. This aroused their suspicion, and they
gathered in the man and his outfit, after pulling them out of a hole in
the ice to which the detour had brought them. The man said his name was
O'Brien, but he was sullen and would say no more. They took no chances,
but brought him before the commanding officer, who sentenced him to "six
months" for vagrancy. Several big bank notes were found on his person,
also packed in crevices on the sleigh, and also a strange nugget of
gold, shaped like a human hand holding a smaller nugget. It was found
out that O'Brien had displayed this nugget as a curiosity at a
road-house a few nights before, and later on it was found that Relphe,
one of the men who had vanished, had a penchant for curios, and amongst
them had this nugget and a specially odd coin. Things were beginning to
look interesting and, as Inspector Scarth wanted a man who answered
O'Brien's description for robbing the cache of Mr. Hansen at Wolf's
Island, O'Brien was sent up to Fort Selkirk and held on that charge.
Then Sergeant Holmes (rather a curious coincidence in detective names)
was sent on detachment to Fossal's road-house with Constable Pennecuick
to see if there were any traces of the lost men. Pennecuick proved
himself a veritable sleuth. In a short time he discovered a place on the
river bank where some one had climbed, although snow had fallen
plentifully since. He also found to his surprise a clear view of the
river up and down for miles. This was unusual in such a place, and on
investigation he found that trees had been cut down so that a look-out
could be kept. He examined the tree stumps closely, and found they had
all been cut with an axe which had three flaws in it, one at one end and
two near together. He kept portions of the wood, and later on discovered
that when O'Brien had been released from jail in Dawson, some months
before, he had been given his stuff back, and the police-sergeant
testified at the trial that he had furnished O'Brien with an axe (a very
necessary thing for travellers on the northern trails) in place of one
that had been lost. The sergeant said, "It was a spare axe and I
sharpened it for him, and gave it to him with a sort of apology because
it still had three rather large nicks in it, one at the top and two
close together at the bottom." Of course, Pennecuick did not know about
this axe when he found the trees chopped down, but his examination of
the stumps shows that he omitted nothing in his scrutiny.
When Pennecuick noted that, he hunted for traces of a trail, and found
such traces leading to the river. He got a broom and swept the whole way
down. Klondikers recall Christmas '98 as soft in the morning and
freezing at night. So marks made that morning would stay, and Pennecuick
found that some heavy body or bodies had been dragged down to a place in
the ice where, though now frozen over, these bodies had been put in the
river. Pennecuick reasoned that if O'Brien was going to kill these men
he would not do it on the river where he might be seen. So the sleuth
went back up into the bush and swept away till he came to some evidences
of blood, then he found three .32 revolver bullets, and one in the earth
from a .45 rifle.
Next day, as Pennecuick came back to work he met a dog on the river.
Dogs crop up all over the Northern history, and many times they were
important links in the chains of evidence. Pennecuick recognized the dog
as O'Brien's, which had been kept in barracks at Dawson by the Police
and fed and petted when O'Brien was in jail there before. The dog
recognized the uniform, fawned on the wearer of it, and when Pennecuick
said "Go home, sir, go home," the dog turned and trotted up the bank and
then turned aside where some slight trail showed. Pennecuick, of course,
followed, and came to a tent cabin in which he found the .45-calibre
rifle. Raking in the snow, he discovered that clothing had been burned,
for he found some buttons with the name of a Seattle firm. Then he went
in and searched the stove and found more relics. But he felt that
probably O'Brien had emptied the pockets of his victims' clothes before
he burned them, and likely had thrown the things away from the fire that
might lead to his identification with the murder if he kept them. So
Pennecuick did the same thing with articles out of his own pocket,
watching where they fell. Then he carefully swept again, and found not
only his own things, but a key that fitted Clayson's safe in Seattle and
the strange coin that Relphe had carried. When the spring came the
bodies were found on sand-bars and were easily identified, even by the
fitting of some fragments of teeth that Pennecuick had found where the
men had been shot in the head by the revolver after they had fallen
before the rifle. And at the trial also the large bills that had been
found in possession of O'Brien were identified as having been the
property of Clayson, as the nugget and coin were shown to have been
Relphe's.
There were other items of evidence, the exhibits nearly exhausted the
alphabet, and there was a very long list of witnesses brought from many
quarters. The Crown Prosecutor was Mr. Fred O. Wade, K.C. (now
Agent-General for British Columbia in London), and he handled the case
with consummate ability. His address to the jury was a marvel of
logical, irresistible emphasis on every point of evidence. Inspector
Scarth gave Mr. Wade most valuable assistance during the long trial. The
prisoner O'Brien was ably defended, but there is no evidence so strong
as circumstantial evidence when it is compactly pieced together, and the
jury took only half an hour to reach the verdict of "Guilty." O'Brien
received the death sentence, and spent a lot of time before his
execution in cursing the Mounted Police who, as another outlaw once
said, "would give a gunman no chance in this blamed Canada country." It
was a long and costly effort on their part, extending nearly two years
in the case of O'Brien, but it gave notice to the world that Canadians
would not tolerate lax views on the sacredness of human life.
It seems appropriate that in that same year, 1900, an injustice to the
Mounted Police should be at length removed by the granting of medals to
the men of the Force who had served in the North-West Rebellion of 1885.
At the conclusion of that rebellion, medals had been granted to all
others who had been on military duty against Louis Riel's revolt, but
they were only given to the Mounted Police who had been actually under
fire in an engagement. We do not care to know who was responsible for
this extraordinary piece of invidious distinction. The Mounted Police
have practically always been on active service and always liable to be
under fire at any moment. Those who know the history know that all the
members of the Force rendered service of enormous value to Canada and
the Empire during that war time, whether in an engagement or not. They
policed the vast plains and, with endless patience and cool courage,
held at peace the thousands of Indians who might have swept the
defenceless settlements with destruction. These men deserved the medal
and should have had it at the outset, but better late than never.
It is anticipating a little in one respect, but in another it is looking
backwards. During the years since their organization the Mounted Police
had furnished escorts and convoys for the successive Governors-General
in their official tours over the vast North-West. Before the railway era
this involved long journeys and much extra duty, cheerfully undertaken
and chivalrously as well as skilfully carried out for the comfort of
these distinguished travellers, amongst whom were our present good King
and his much-loved son, the Prince of Wales. In recognition of these
services the Commissioner has received for himself and his men warm
thanks, as well as expressions of high admiration for the courtesies and
services rendered by the Police, as well as for their fine bearing as
soldierly men.
And all these find fitting climax in the fact that His Majesty King
Edward, "First Gentleman of Europe," gave his personal recognition of
all the splendid services rendered to the Empire by the Police by
conferring on the Force the title "Royal." This intimation was made in
the Canada Gazette in 1904 in this manner:
"His Majesty the King has been graciously pleased to confer the
title of 'Royal' upon the North-West Mounted Police Force."
Referring to this honour, Commissioner Perry said in his report of that
year:
"The force is deeply sensible of the high honour conferred upon it,
and I trust it will continue by loyalty, integrity and devotion to
duty to merit the great distinction which His Majesty has been so
graciously pleased to bestow upon it."
The Commissioner has always trusted and believed in his men, and he has
not been disappointed.