The Canadian Revolution of 1837-38--Causes that led to
it--Searching of Daniel Conant’s house--Tyrannous misrule of the
Family Compact--A fugitive farmer--A visitor from the United States
in danger--Daniel Conant a large vessel owner--Assists seventy
patriots to escape--Linus Wilson Miller--His trial and
sentence--State prisoners sent to Van Diemen’s Land.
That uprising of 1837-38 in Canada is now generally termed the Canadian
Revolution. Most worthily does it deserve to be called a _revolution_,
for the people who were its supporters afterwards got all they asked
for. It was not a _rebellion_ but a revolution, and it did great good
for this country in the end. The fact of the very narrow and selfish
rule of the Family Compact again comes to us, for having goaded the
people to resort to extraordinary measures, they also persecuted persons
who came, or whose fathers came, from the United States. All hail to
those who, in a prominent or lesser way, took part in this rising on the
side of the patriots. It is an honor to-day for any Canadian to be
descended from one who took part and bore the burden and danger of
service in the Canadian Revolution of 1837-38. It is not to be argued
but that the patriots went rather too far, but no less could be expected
when the people once were aroused for such just causes. Those who
fought on the other side were equally as brave, and did their duty
manfully and bravely as they then saw the light. It was, nevertheless,
the efforts of the few patriots (whose fortunes we shall follow in part)
that gave us our liberties in Canada, and likewise brought about
constitutional government. Likewise were the effects of this revolution
good for the Motherland, for every colony since that time has been free
to carry on its own domestic concerns at will, which Canadians could not
possibly do before the Canadian Revolution. The day is now here when
those alive are proud of the part their forefathers took in the
struggle, and the disposition of many writers to try to gloss the
disturbances over, and make them appear small and puny in the way of
concerted efforts, are not pleasant to us nor true in their spirit. In a
word, no one can be found in Canada to-day who would dare to champion
the cause of the Royalists and the Family Compact on that occasion, and
assert that the patriots had not sufficient causes for their uprising.
Only recently has this been the case, for it has been fashionable
heretofore for every one to make light of the Revolution and to disclaim
any connection with it.
The patriots were only trying to get wrongs redressed and a
constitutional government inaugurated. They had no wish to uprise
against Great Britain. Particularly is it true that the great bulk of
the patriots were not uprising against the Motherland, for the author’s
forbears, who knew well from actual contact with the patriots, have
frequently told him so. The rule of the Family Compact they would not
endure longer. They were goaded to exasperation by the infamous acts of
that clique, and they were careless of what consequences might follow.
It was “Junius” who said, “The subject who is truly loyal will neither
advise nor submit to arbitrary acts.” In accordance with that sentiment
the patriots sought only to have the wrongs redressed, and _not to take
up arms against Great Britain in any sense_. In the following pages some
of the terribly arbitrary acts of the Family Compact will be given, for
but very few Canadians to-day have the least inkling of the high-handed
manner which this tyrannous power made use of in venting its private
hatred on the patriots, both individually and collectively. It is,
however, a matter of strong congratulation that though the Family
Compact was victorious in the revolution, its rule was but short after
it. The patriots secured all the privileges they asked for, and the
Family Compact shrunk into nothingness.
The hanging of Lount and Matthews was really judicial murder, and the
exportation of 232 Canadians to Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania), where
nearly all of them lost their lives, was an infamous deed; also the
persistence with which the Compact pursued the patriots is enough to
bring tears to the eyes of every thinking Canadian to-day who really
loves his country. When the Southern States revolted and fought from
April, 1861, to April, 1865, and brought about the most terrible war on
record, wherein more men were killed than in any war the world has ever
known, no one was hanged at its close. Nor was any leader imprisoned or
exported, nor was the private property of the leaders confiscated, save
that only of Jefferson Davis, the leader, and only a part of his private
property withal. Whereas, here in Canada, because our patriots had the
manliness to be men and stand up for their rights, though committing no
overt acts, they were hanged, imprisoned, driven to the United States,
or transported for life. In the case of the author’s own grandfather and
parents he can bring out some features exactly. One Colonel Ferguson,
who lived a mile and a quarter north of Whitby, considering his measure
of loyalty to be so far in excess of that of all others about, took it
upon himself to pay domiciliary visits to the homes of many with the
troops under his command. He had the command of a few militiamen whose
homes were in the locality of his visits. There were no overt acts being
committed during the winter months of 1837-38, but it made no sort of
difference to Colonel Ferguson. As a tool of the Family Compact he never
ceased to annoy his neighbors. Very vivid impressions come to the author
from the tales of his own father of Colonel Ferguson coming at midnight
of a winter night with his men, surrounding the family residence and
turning all the inmates out in the snow while he ransacked and searched
at will. Many times during that memorable winter was the search
repeated, but the author could never learn what Colonel Ferguson
expected to find as a result of his
[Illustration: THE OLD CONANT HOMESTEAD AT PORT OSHAWA, BUILT IN 1811.
Here United States prisoners from General Hull’s army, which
surrendered at Detroit, were fed while proceeding on their way by
boats under guard to Quebec. Here also domiciliary visits were paid
on several occasions during the Canadian Revolution of 1837-38, the
house being surrounded by troops at midnight, and my people turned
out in the snow while the house was being searched.
]
diligent searches. Daniel Conant’s New England descent would very
probably go far to account for Colonel Ferguson’s insane suspiciousness.
In this part of Canada the inhabitants generally were in favor of the
movement. Not to be so was to be singular. That is to say, they were in
favor of having the wrongs committed by the Family Compact redressed,
but not one in 10,000 asked for a change of the political connection of
Canada. To effect such a sweeping change as that would be was not the
object of the agitation, and at this day of writing it seems very hard
that the inhabitants should have been persecuted simply because they
loved their country; but so it was. It would be well to instance another
case of the tyrannous misrule of the Family Compact and their
persecution of unoffending persons. A farmer living near Oshawa, being
the son of a United Empire Loyalist, seemed to have all the Compact’s
hate and suspicion centred upon him, simply because his father came from
Massachusetts. The suspected man had done absolutely no act to place him
in the eye of the law. Like nearly all others, he sympathized with the
patriots, not for a moment supposing it to be a crime to love his
country and its people. But Colonel Ferguson thought differently, and
made a sally to capture the farmer. Now, capture meant almost certain
death, for it would mean being incarcerated during the very cold weather
in unheated guardhouses and gaols here or in Toronto. Knowing this, he
avoided capture by changing his quarters every few days and never
sleeping in a house. Usually he slept in the granary of a barn,
burrowing into the bin of grain until almost or quite concealed, with
the grain effectually covering him. One may rightly conjecture the
terrible hardships of this poor farmer, exposed as he was to the
inclemency of a Canadian winter. Fires in a barn are, of course, out of
the question, and therefore he had no comfort of a house and a fireside
the whole winter long. Such ill-usage could possibly have only one
ending, viz., death, which followed in the fall of 1838. Nor is this an
isolated case, for there were many such, but purposely we follow its
details in order to present a faithful picture of life in Canada during
the Canadian Revolution of 1837-38.
One more instance we must narrate before the indictment of the Family
Compact is complete. David Trull, a resident of New York State, and a
relative of the author, happened to come to visit his relatives about
Bowmanville and Newcastle in the fall of 1837. While here on this visit
the uprising took place, for the fight at Montgomery’s was on the 3rd of
December, 1837. His visit having come to an end, he started for home the
same way he came. On to Toronto, then, went David Trull, to get on board
a small steamer running from the Queen’s wharf to Niagara. As he stepped
upon the gang-plank a uniformed sentry presented a bayonet and cried
“Halt!” threatening to run him through. He turned back from the wharf,
frightened and amazed, proceeding to his hotel, which he had only that
morning left. Telling the hotel-keeper of his trouble the worthy
Boniface befriended him. He was warned that he must not on any account
whatever, as he valued his life, let any one know that he hailed from
the United States, for, said the hotel-keeper, “If you do they’ll put
you in prison and hang you.” He was further advised to put on working
clothes and act as hostler about the hotel, with a view of slipping away
on the steamer later, when suspicion had been allayed. For many days he
put in the time at watering and grooming horses for young would-be
military satraps, who ordered him about, and whom in his own country he
would have treated with contempt. But he got away on the steamer at
last, and almost vowed when once on United States soil never again to
set foot in Canada. Realizing, however, in after years that only a very
small portion of the Canadian people were disposed to misuse a guest, as
they had done in his case, he overlooked it, and came back on visits in
after years. To his dying day, however, he never forgot the arbitrary
treatment of the Family Compact, and his hate for them went with him to
his grave.
Daniel Conant, the author’s father, was a very large vessel owner at the
time of the Canadian Revolution. At the earnest requests, entreaties and
tears of some seventy patriots, whose lives and liberties were unsafe in
Canada, he took them in midwinter across Lake Ontario in his ship
_Industry_ to Oswego, N.Y. During the inclement weather of that voyage
his ship was lost, while all got over safely (_vide_ “Upper Canada
Sketches,” by the author). But Daniel Conant and his officers and
sailors dared not come back home, even without their ship. To be caught
meant transportation to Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania), or death by
hanging at home, according to the mood of the authorities. To gain home
and friends once more they walked back to Niagara in the spring of 1838,
and crossed the Niagara River at its mouth, landing boldly at the wharf
in the village of Niagara, where was a garrison and guards always on the
watch. To get past the guard was the point at issue. John Pickel, who
had been mate on the lost ship, has the credit of getting them out of
the difficulty. Making for the canteen he hilariously began treating
every one who came in sight. Being plentifully supplied with cash by the
author’s father, he persistently kept at the treating, giving many most
loyal toasts, “and was glad to get back again on Canadian soil.” These
words to-day, after an intervening sixty-three years, seem, no doubt,
tame and hardly worth preserving. Let us, however, remember the time and
the terrible risk then run. As the shades of evening came on they
quietly, one at a time, dropped out of the canteen, the garrison, the
village, the clearing, and into the darkness of the forest. Hamilton was
reached in due time, but a detour around to the north of Toronto was
made, and justly proud of having saved the lives and fortunes of seventy
patriots, whose only crime was that of loving their country, and wishing
for reform and good government, they got home at last. It would scarcely
be within the scope of this volume to follow
[Illustration: DANIEL CONANT.]
in detail the events of the Canadian Revolution. To do so would make too
bulky a volume. We may, however, notice the case of one who was
transported, along with several others, to Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania).
Linus Wilson Miller had come over from New York State, having relatives
in Canada, and through sympathy had endeavored to help the patriots. He
was apprehended, and in order to get a true inside view of the workings
of the Family Compact we will give the court scene when he was brought
up for trial at Niagara, July, 1838.
Having been brought under guard to the court room he was asked:
“Linus Wilson Miller, what say you--guilty or not guilty?
“I shall not plead to my indictment at present.
“SOLICITOR-GENERAL--But you must.
“I choose to be excused.
“SOLICITOR-GENERAL--But you cannot be excused.
“I tell you, I am not prepared to stand my trial now.
“CHIEF JUSTICE--Answer you, prisoner at the bar, the question put
to you by the Court--what say you, Linus Wilson Miller, guilty or
not guilty?
“My Lord, that is a question which, as I before said, I am not now
prepared to answer.
“CHIEF JUSTICE--You must say, guilty or not guilty.
“Your lordship must excuse me.
“CHIEF JUSTICE--“You shall answer either guilty or not guilty--it
is only a mere matter of form.
“Doubtless your lordship considers hanging by one’s neck until dead
only mere matter of form.”
“CHIEF JUSTICE (in a rage)--Do you mean, sir, to insult this
court?
“My Lord, I mean only what I say, that I must have time to prepare
for my trial.
“CHIEF JUSTICE--Will you or will you not plead to your
indictment--what say you, prisoner at the bar, guilty or not
guilty?
“My Lord, I cannot plead now.
“CHIEF JUSTICE--You shall by G----
“My Lord, I will not. (Great sensation.)
“THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL--How dare you insult his lordship? You must
answer at once; it will be better for you to do so. I advise you to
plead not guilty; after which the Court will take into
consideration your claims to have your trial postponed, and order
you counsel, if you wish it. The Court are disposed to be just and
merciful.
“I repeat what I said before, I will not.
“ATTORNEY-GENERAL--You are a desperate fellow.
“And not without reason, for if I am to judge of the intentions of
this Court, from external appearances, I am in desperate
circumstances. But the word ‘fellow’ which you just applied to me
is significant.
“ATTORNEY-GENERAL (with a sneer)--Pray, sir, what are you?
“A victim chosen for the slaughter; but you are mistaken if you
think to coax or drive me to plead at present; I understand your
wishes and my own interests too well.
“CHIEF JUSTICE--Prisoner at the bar, three weeks have passed since
your capture, and you have had sufficient time to prepare your
defence. This Court has been convened for the express purpose of
trying you, and the Government cannot be put to so much expense for
nothing. I have taken care myself that all witnesses which you can
possibly require in your defence should be present to-day, and they
are here. You can have, therefore, no excuse whatever for wishing
to postpone your trial, and your only object is to give the
Government and this Court unnecessary trouble; but your
stubbornness shall avail you nothing, for the Court will order the
usual course in case of stubborn and wilful prisoners, who refuse
to plead, to be pursued in this case. I now ask you for the last
time--what say you, Linus Wilson Miller, to the charges preferred
against you: are you guilty or not guilty?
“My Lord, I am informed by your lordship that I have had sufficient
time to prepare for my trial, having been in custody three weeks.
How was I to prepare my defence before I had been indicted--how
know what charges, if any, would be preferred against me? I have
but now heard them read, and am required, without one moment’s
warning, to plead to charges of the most serious nature, affecting
my life! I am likewise informed by your lordship that all the
witnesses requisite for my defence are present in Court, that in
the present enlightened age, a judge, in a British Court of
Justice, will tell a prisoner arraigned under such circumstances,
that the witnesses for his defence are all present by order of the
Court, and that too in the presence of a jury empanelled to try
him. Is a Chief Justice of a British Court thus to sit upon a bench
and pre-judge a case of life and death? Have I consulted any legal
gentleman in this Province upon my case whereby by any possibility
your lordship could have been apprised of the witnesses I may
require, or of the nature of the defence which in so serious a case
I may deem it necessary to make? How long have I known that charges
were preferred against me which require either a defence or the
surrender of my life without a struggle? And yet I am told by your
lordship that I _shall_ abide my trial upon the testimony of
witnesses of your lordship’s own choosing, in a defence
predetermined by your lordship long before a grand jury had found a
true bill against me. Is this your boasted British justice? Am I
indeed within the sacred walls of a court, a British Court, the
pride and boast of Englishmen? Shame, my l----
“CHIEF JUSTICE (in a great rage)--Silence, you d--d Yankee rebel!
Not another word or--
“My Lord, I will not keep silence when my life is at stake.... A
jury did I say? They are all strangers to me, but from the
proceedings I have witnessed to-day, I have no doubt they are mere
tools of the Government, pledged to render a verdict of guilty and
perjure their own hearts.
“A JURYMAN, from the box--My Lord, are we honest men to be insulted
and abused in this manner?
“No doubt the gentleman _is_ an honest man.... My Lord, I have
done--but I again _demand_ from your lordship the full time allowed
by law for my defence.... At present I have only to request to be
furnished with a copy of my indictment.
“CHIEF JUSTICE--The Court will not allow you a copy.”
There is no reason to infer that this is misquoted in a single letter.
In fact current testimony will bear out all that Miller says, and the
reading of this court scene will give us a very true insight into life
in Canada in 1838, and will be quite new to the present generation of
Canadians. The author gets this court scene from “Notes of an Exile, on
Canada, England and Van Diemen’s Land,” by Linus Wilson Miller, and it
is probable that the copy of Miller’s book that I possess is the only
one in Canada to-day.
“On August 5th, 1838, Linus Wilson Miller was again tried at
Niagara, and here follows the scene in court when the jury brought
in a verdict of ‘Guilty, with an earnest recommendation of the
prisoner to the extreme mercy of the court.’
“CHIEF JUSTICE (in a great rage)--Gentlemen of the jury, do you
know that your verdict is virtually an acquittal? How dare you
bring in such a verdict in this case?...
“THE FOREMAN--My Lord, the jury regard him as having been partially
deranged some months since, but of sane mind when he invaded this
province.
“CHIEF JUSTICE--Then retire, gentlemen, and reconsider your
verdict. You cannot recommend him to mercy.
“In a few minutes they returned with a verdict of ‘guilty, with a
recommendation of the prisoner to the mercy of the court.’
“CHIEF JUSTICE--Gentlemen of the jury, I’ll teach you your duty,
how dare you return such a verdict?...
“A JURYMAN--My Lord, we recommend him on account of his youth.
“CHIEF JUSTICE--That is no excuse for his crimes, ...
“ANOTHER JURYMAN--My Lord, we believe him to be an enthusiast in
the cause in which he was engaged; that his motives are good, and
his conduct honorable and humane.
“CHIEF JUSTICE--Your duty is to pronounce the prisoner guilty or
not guilty.
“After a short consultation the jury returned a verdict of guilty
only, and the infamous Chief Justice--a second Jeffreys--with a
countenance beaming with hellish smiles, bowed to the jury.”
Miller was in due course sentenced to be hanged, but this sentence was
commuted to transportation. We find him and twelve others, all
Canadians, chained and sent by steamer _Cobourg_ to Kingston. From
Kingston the party were sent by another steamer to Montreal. After being
changed again they reached Quebec. Here the thirteen Canadian prisoners
were put on board a timber ship and sent to England. From the fact that
so very few Canadians know that Canadians were transported to the other
side of the world, the author makes special mention of this matter.
To-day we would not think of doing such things, and very many Canadians
will be inclined to question the truthfulness of the statement. But, in
all, ninety-one Canadian state prisoners were sent to that distant penal
colony. A few lines of verse may be inserted as very apt and striking.
They are by T. R. Harvey:
Morn on the waters! And purple and bright
Bursts on the billows the flashing of light;
O’er the glad waves like a child of the sun,
See, the tall vessel goes gallantly on.
Full to the breeze she unbosoms her sail,
And her pennon streams onward like hope in the gale;
The winds come around her in murmur and song,
And the surges rejoice as they bear her along.
See, she looks up to the golden-edged clouds,
And the sailor sings gaily aloft in her shrouds.
Onward she glides amid ripple and spray,
Over the waters, away and away!
Bright as the visions of youth ere they part,
Passing away like a dream of the heart.
Who, as the beautiful pageant sweeps by,
Music around her and sunshine on high,
Pauses to think amid glitter and show
Oh, there be hearts that are breaking below!
Night on the waves! And the moon is on high,
Hung like a gem on the brow of the sky,
Treading its depths in the power of its might,
And turning the clouds, as they pass her, to light.
Look to the waters! Asleep on their breast
Seems not the ship like an island of rest?
Bright and alone on the shadowy main,
Like a heart-cherished home on some desolate plain.
Who, as he watches her silently gliding,
Remembers that wave after wave is dividing
Bosoms that sorrow and guilt could not sever,
Hearts that are parted and broken forever?
Or dreams that he watches afloat on the wave,
The death-bed of hope, or the young spirit’s grave.
So far as can be known only thirteen of the ninety-six ever got back
home to Canada, after years of waiting, hoping and praying. All the
others found untimely graves in that far-off land, where they died
broken-hearted and alone.
Linus Wilson Miller did not get home until August, 1846, he being one of
the very first to reach America. A sailing ship brought him to
Pernambuco. At that port the captain of the American barque _Globe_
accepted a bill drawn by him on his father for his passage, he being
totally without money. Englishmen and Americans resident at Pernambuco
however, on learning the facts, and being acquainted with the desperate
treatment of Miller, raised the funds to take up the bill and send him
on home. To-day we consider the execution of Lount and Matthews simply
judicial murder, and Sir George Arthur went to his reward in after years
with a heavy load on his conscience. It is hardly in the bounds of
possibility for him ever to forget the time when Mrs. Lount knelt before
him and prayed for the life of her husband, and he refused to as much as
listen to her.
Van Schultz too, poor fellow, a Pole, who escaped oppression in his own
country, came to the United States; then, fancying us oppressed, he
voluntarily tried to help us, and, as we all know, was captured at the
disturbance at Windmill Point, Prescott. Generous and impulsive, but
misguided, his execution was another judicial murder exulted in by the
Family Compact. Linus Wilson Miller’s crimes to-day would perhaps be met
by a half year’s sentence of incarceration. But he was broken down in
health by the hard usage and hard work he had to endure in Tasmania, as
well as were all the other state prisoners. Being a state prisoner he
would not now be compelled to labor, if treated as political prisoners
are treated the world over. He and all the others were worked to the
bone, flogged, and most of them sent to early graves in that far-off
land.
Thank God, we have changed all that.
Lord Durham came out as Governor-General right after the trouble.
Responsible constitutional government was granted, and all the reforms
the people asked for. Not in the most remote degree was the Home
Government responsible for our misusage, nor for the uprising, for it
knew nothing of it. In illustration of this, the following example is
pertinent: When Sir Francis Bond Head, who was the supreme Governor
General during the uprising, was on his way home he stopped at New York.
There he met Marshal S. Bidwell, then an exile, and a man universally
acknowledged as at the head of the bar in Canada. Sir Francis
deliberately told Bidwell he had received instructions from the Home
Government to appoint him judge. Bidwell turned and fled, and never bade
adieu to him. On gaining the street he first thought of returning and
apologizing for his rudeness, but the injury was too great, and he never
saw Head again? Can we wonder at the Canadian uprising when such things
could be?
At the top of a parchment Crown deed to one of the Conants the name of
Sir Francis Bond Head appears, and never can the author look upon that
parchment without unpleasant thoughts of the man’s poltroonery and
narrowness.
It is not out of place to record here the fact that Benedict Arnold, the
traitor, received a grant of 18,000 acres of our lands in Upper Canada
not far from the author’s home. No Canadian ever liked a traitor, nor do
we like the memory of Arnold, hence special mention is made of the
grant. The British Government gave him £10,000 besides. There is a
little verse which covers all the points nicely, thus:
“From Cain to Catiline the world hath known
Her traitors--vaunted votaries of crime--
Caligula and Nero sat alone
Upon the pinnacle of vice sublime;
But they were moved by hate, or wish to climb
The rugged steeps of Fame; in letters bold
To write their names upon the scroll of Time;
Therefore their crime some virtue did enfold--
But Arnold! thine had none--’twas all for sordid gold!”
[Illustration: DESK USED IN THE LEGISLATIVE CHAMBER BY W. LYON
MACKENZIE. UPPER CANADA, 1837.
(From the J. Ross Robertson collection.)
]