CHAPTER III

THE EVE OF CONFEDERATION

A day of loftier ideas and greater issues in all the provinces was

about to dawn. The ablest politicians had been prone to wrangle like

washerwomen over a tub, colouring the parliamentary debates by personal

rivalry and narrow aims, while measures of first-rate importance went

unheeded. The change did not occur in the twinkling of an eye, for the

cherished habits of two generations were not to be discarded so

quickly. Goldwin Smith asserted[1] that, whoever laid claim to the

parentage of Confederation, the real parent was Deadlock. But this was

the critic, not the historian, who spoke. The causes lay far deeper

than in the breakdown of party government in Canada. Events of

profound significance were about to change an atmosphere overladen with

partisanship and to strike the imaginations of men.

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The first factor in the national awakening was the call of the great

western domain. British Americans began to realize that they were the

heirs of a rich and noble possession. The idea was not entirely new.

The fur traders had indeed long tried to keep secret the truth as to

the fertility of the plains; but men who had been born or had lived in

the West were now settled in the East. They had stories to tell, and

their testimony was emphatic. In 1856 the Imperial authorities had

intimated to Canada that, as the licence of the Hudson's Bay Company to

an exclusive trade in certain regions would expire in 1859, it was

intended to appoint a select committee of the British House of Commons

to investigate the existing situation in those territories and to

report upon their future status; and Canada had sent Chief Justice

Draper to London as her commissioner to watch the proceedings, to give

evidence, and to submit to his government any proposals that might be

made. Simultaneously a select committee of the Canadian Assembly sat

to hear evidence and to report a basis for legislation. Canada boldly

claimed that her western boundary was the Pacific ocean, and this

prospect had long encouraged men like George Brown to look {23} forward

to extension westward, and to advocate it, as one solution of Upper

Canada's political grievances. It was a vision calculated to rouse

the adventurous spirit of the British race in colonizing and in

developing vast and unknown lands. Another wonderful page was about to

open in the history of British expansion. And, hand in hand with

romance, went the desire for dominion and commerce.

But if the call of the West drew men partly by its material

attractions, another event, of a wholly different sort, appealed

vividly to their sentiment. In 1860 the young Prince of Wales visited

the provinces as the representative of his mother, the beloved Queen

Victoria. His tour resembled a triumphal progress. It evoked feelings

and revived memories which the young prince himself, pleasing though

his personality was, could not have done. It was the first clear

revelation of the intensity of that attachment to the traditions and

institutions of the Empire which in our own day has so vitally affected

the relations of the self-governing states to the mother country. In a

letter from Ottawa[2] to Lord Palmerston, {24} the Duke of Newcastle,

the prince's tutor, wrote:

I never saw in any part of England such extensive or beautiful outward

demonstrations of respect and affection, either to the Queen or to any

private object of local interest, as I have seen in every one of these

colonies, and, what is more important, there have been circumstances

attending all these displays which have marked their sincerity and

proved that neither curiosity nor self-interest were the only or the

ruling influences.

Of all the events, however, that startled the British provinces out of

the self-absorbed contemplation of their own little affairs, the Civil

War in the United States exerted the most immediate influence. It not

only brought close the menace of a war between Great Britain and the

Republic, with Canada as the battle-ground, but it forced a complete

readjustment of our commercial relations. Not less important, the

attitude of the Imperial government toward Confederation underwent a

change. It was D'Arcy McGee who perceived, at the very outset, the

probable {25} bearing of the Civil War upon the future of Canada. 'I

said in the House during the session of 1861,' he subsequently

declared, 'that the first gun fired at Fort Sumter had a message for

us.' The situation became plainer when the _Trent_ Affair embroiled

Great Britain directly with the North, and the safety of Canada

appeared to be threatened. While Lincoln was anxiously pondering the

British demand that the Confederate agents, Mason and Slidell, removed

by an American warship from the British steamer the _Trent_, should be

given up, and Lord Lyons was labouring to preserve peace, the fate of

Canada hung in the balance. The agents were released, but there

followed ten years of unfriendly relations between Great Britain and

the United States. There were murmurs that when the South was subdued

the trained armies of the North would be turned against the British

provinces. The termination of the Reciprocity Treaty, which provided

for a large measure of free trade between the two countries, was seen

to be reasonably sure. The treaty had existed through a period which

favoured a large increase in the exports of the provinces. The Crimean

War at first and the Civil War later had created an unparalleled demand

for the food products {26} which Canada could supply; and although the

records showed the enhanced trade to be mutually profitable, with a

balance rather in favour of the United States, the anti-British feeling

in the Republic was directed against the treaty. Thus military defence

and the necessity of finding new markets became two pressing problems

for Canada.

From the Imperial authorities there came now at last distinct

encouragement. Hitherto they had hung back. The era of economic dogma

in regard to free trade, to some minds more authoritative than Holy

Writ, was at its height. Even Cobden was censured because, in the

French treaty of 1861, he had departed from the free trade theory. The

doctrine of _laissez-faire_, carried to extremes, meant that the

colonies should be allowed to cut adrift. But the practical English

mind saw the sense and statesmanship of a British American union, and

the tone of the colonial secretary changed. In July 1862 the Duke of

Newcastle, who then held that office and who did not share the

indifference of so many of his predecessors[3] to the colonial

connection, wrote sympathetically to Lord Mulgrave, the governor of

Nova Scotia:

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If a union, either partial or complete, should hereafter be proposed

with the concurrence of all the Provinces to be united, I am sure that

the matter would be weighed in this country both by the public, by

Parliament, and by Her Majesty's Government, with no other feeling than

an anxiety to discern and promote any course which might be the most

conducive to the prosperity, the strength and the harmony of all the

British communities in North America.

Nova Scotia, always to the front on the question, had declared for

either a general union or a union of the Maritime Provinces, and this

had drawn the dispatch of the Duke of Newcastle. A copy of this

dispatch was sent to Lord Monck, the governor-general of Canada, for

his information and guidance, so that the attitude of the Imperial

authorities was generally known. It remained for the various

provincial Cabinets to confer and to arrange a course of action. The

omens pointed to union in the near future. But, as it happened, a new

Canadian ministry, that of Sandfield Macdonald, had shortly before

assumed office, and its members were in no wise pledged to the {28}

union project. In fact, as was proved later, several of them, notably

the prime minister himself, with Dorion, Holton, and Huntington,

regarded federation with suspicion and were its consistent opponents

until the final accomplishment.

The negotiations for the joint construction of an intercolonial railway

had been proceeding for some time. These the ministry continued, but

without enthusiasm. The building of this line had been ardently

promoted for years. It was the necessary link to bind the provinces

together. To secure Imperial financial aid in one form or another

delegates had more than once gone to London. The Duke of Newcastle had

announced in April 1862 that the nature and extent of the guarantee

which Her Majesty's government would recommend to parliament depended

upon the arrangements which the provinces themselves had to propose.[4]

There was a conference in Quebec. From Nova Scotia came Howe and

Annand, who two years later fought Confederation; from New Brunswick

came Tilley and Peter Mitchell, who carried the cause to victory in

their province. Delegates from the Quebec meeting {29} went to London,

but the railway plan broke down, and the failure was due to Canada.

The episode left a bad impression in the minds of the maritime

statesmen, and during the whole of 1863 it seemed as if union were

indefinitely postponed. Yet this was the very eve of Confederation,

and forces already in motion made it inevitable.

[1] _Canada and the Canadian Question_, by Goldwin Smith, p. 143.

[2] _Life of Henry Pelham, fifth Duke of Newcastle_, by John Martineau,

p. 292.

[3] Between 1852 and 1870 there were thirteen colonial secretaries.

[4] Dispatch of the colonial secretary to the lieutenant-governor of

New Brunswick.

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The Fathers of Confederation: A Chronicle of the Birth of the Dominion · 第 3 / 14 章