Delphi Complete Works of Stephen Leacock, page 514
In the late autumn of 1825 Mackenzie moved his printing press to York hoping not merely to assist the Reformers but to promote his own none too successful fortunes. His personality was hardly such as to further either aim. For Mackenzie possessed the defects of his virtues. He had all the WILLIAM LYON MACKENZIE fine qualities of his race — its perseverance, its tenacity, its imagination, its zeal, its uncanny energy; but unfortunately he had too large a share of its defects. He was vain and uncompromising. His perseverance and tenacity lacked that sobriety of purpose which dignifies reform movements and rescues them from the violence of uncharted agitation. His imagination magnified the difficulties of the social and political scene and prevented him from seeing them apart from his opponents and as almost a necessary part of the contemporary world. When he marched forth to war he aimed to destroy his enemies, whom he hated far more, it would almost seem, than the system of which they were merely a colonial outpost. Political differences took on with him the colour of bitter personal animosity, and when he poured out the vials of his wrath they were hot with the passion of hatred and blistering with the vitriol of scorn. Incapable of clear political thought, he never gave any one the credit of honesty in a conviction which was not his own. Like the clansmen of his native land he tried to storm an entrenched and strongly fortified position by a frontal attack in which defects in equipment and in tactics were to be made good by a glorious charge whose driving force was the red-blood of passion, whose reserve was the fury of hate. Such was the man whose Colonial Advocate stirred up government and official circles in York.
In the early summer of 1826 Mackenzie enjoyed a perfect surfeit of virulence and abuse. He invited the people of Upper Canada to sweep the “nest of unclean birds” out of power, having too long and shamefully defiled the province with their abominations. Not content with attacking his political opponents Mackenzie descended to the grossest insolence in abusing highly respectable citizens, whose only crime was that they would not march under his banner. So contemptible had his press become that Mackenzie might well feel justified in being absent from York, accepting the security which decent men grant to irresponsible journalists. The older heads remained calm. On the evening, however, of June 8th, 1826, a group of young “bloods,” connected in one way or another with the Family Compact and including a member of the lieutenant-governor’s household, sacked Mackenzie’s office. There is no evidence that the episode was known to, much less inspired by official circles. It was a youthful escapade which recoiled a hundredfold on the perpetrators.
A young society does not lightly condone “the law of the jungle,” especially when the victim is not there to defend his property. As a consequence, many who despised Mackenzie’s methods sympathized with him in the misfortune which he had suffered. Had it ended there, all might have been well. Mackenzie’s fortunes were at a low ebb and the Colonial Advocate was on the eve of financial collapse. His friends, however, shrewdly advised a ARCHDEACON STRACHAN civil action for damages. The facts were not denied and the defence was weakened by the desire not to give the Advocate further publicity by reading out in court the scurrilous abuse which gave rise to the attack. In the issue Mackenzie found himself reimbursed by a favourable verdict for over six hundred pounds. The substantial members of the Compact paid the bill and the insolvent editor had a comfortable balance at the bank after repairing his office and providing himself with a new press.
Bickerings galore soon increased the political agitation. Archdeacon Strachan, not content with the advantageous position enjoyed by the Church of England in the province, took an unfavourable moment to magnify both himself and his church. Already grave doubts had arisen over the Anglican claim to the sole enjoyment of “the clergy reserves” provided for by the Constitutional Act of 1791, and counter claims were gaining ground; on the one hand in favour of a share for the Presbyterians, and on the other in favour of secularization or of educational foundations. Into such a world Strachan launched absurd claims. He forwarded an “ecclesiastical chart” to the British government in which the number of Anglicans was greatly exaggerated. Not content with this method of asking increased support for his Church, he accused the “dissenters” of lukewarmness in their support of British institutions. The Methodists found a champion in Egerton Ryerson, and Strachan’s indiscretion gave a dangerous religious colouring to Upper Canadian agitation. Anglicanism became identified with political autocracy.
Other forces were at work. A large body of immigrants had come into the province after the peace of 1783. A recent decision in England had laid it down that they could not become British subjects or inherit property within the Empire. The judgment, if it stood, meant that a vast number of Upper Canadians had no political or personal rights. The home government advised legislation, and a bill was accordingly introduced in the Legislative Council. The Assembly, however, on receiving the measure found that it fell far short of a complete remedy and threw it out. For several sessions the battle rose and fell and the question was not finally settled before many a settler had his judgment warped and his sense of values numbed by the unseemly squabble. When a new election took place in 1828 the influences of politics, religion, agitation, and class hatred combined to return an Assembly controlled by the Reformers. Mackenzie was elected for the County of York with Jesse Ketchum as colleague. The party included Robert Baldwin’s father, Marshall Bidwell, John Rolph and others destined for good or ill to leave a mark on the political fortunes of the province. Bidwell was elected speaker and an address was voted to the Lieutenant-Governor, Sir John Colborne, regretting that his advisers WILLIAM LYON MACKENZIE were those in whom the country had no confidence. Colborne may have had no leanings towards popular government, but he was at least far from being arbitrary and autocratic. If his policy eventually stiffened and if his sympathies were at length entirely on the side of the Family Compact, Mackenzie and his extremists had only themselves to thank.
Mackenzie at least was not content to assume the modesty which might for a time adorn an inexperienced member of the Assembly. He began at once that policy of ceaselessly ferreting out supposed grievances which characterized his journalistic career and eventually robbed his political life of that fruition which is the child of sanity and discipline. He started an agitation over the post office — an Imperial concern — over the chaplaincy of the House, and precious time was wasted which might have been better occupied in building up for the Reformers a platform of successful economic legislation. Political reform does not thrive on the negation of grievances. It is true that something was accomplished, but not enough to prevent the Compact gaining control of the Assembly at the elections of 1830, necessary on the death of George III. The ranks of the Reformers were decimated. Mackenzie and Bidwell survived, but many of the soberer men of the party went down to defeat. There had been no constructive leadership and the Reformers had unfortunately for themselves allowed Mackenzie too much rope. There was no shadow of a political rock in the dry parched land. The general note had been a whine and no evidence had been shown of political vision and constitutional architecture.
The new Assembly was of such a reactionary and “loyal” texture that it in turn served its opponents. Wise leadership was lacking, such as had been displayed by John Beverley Robinson, now Chief-Justice of the Province. Political control fell into the hands of Attorney-General Henry Boulton and Solicitor-General Christopher Hagerman — men singularly wanting in parliamentary virtues, competence, tact, and moderation. With them Mackenzie was bound to clash. He opposed the grant of a permanent civil list, oblivious of the fact that the home government was asking only a small concession to British parliamentary usage while it handed to the province the control over revenue formerly in Imperial hands. Of course, the bill passed, but Mackenzie and his group were undeterred. Once more he attacked the personnel of the Executive Council and the appointment of the chaplain. His soberest suggestions were robbed of a sympathetic hearing by his arrogant methods and by the fact that his paper continued to pour out its stream of invective. Secure from prosecution for libel according to the law of the time by virtue of his membership of the Assembly, Mackenzie was enjoying to the full his career of WILLIAM LYON MACKENZIE irresponsible vanity, when the House decided to expel him — a course fully within its rights. The House, however, chose its battleground with singular lack of wisdom when it charged Mackenzie with being guilty of a breach of privilege in publishing the Journals of the Assembly shorn of their appendices. The motion was defeated, as Mackenzie had merely followed British custom. A new motion accusing Mackenzie of publishing libels on the Assembly followed, but prorogation stopped proceedings.
Scarcely was the Session of 1831 opened when Mackenzie’s bitterest enemies once more sought their prey. He had begun an attack in the Colonial Advocate on the Assembly as a body, which culminated in denunciation of it as a “sycophantic office for registering the decrees of a mean and mercenary executive.” The Assembly was not the body to stand wholesale attacks on its honour and declared Mackenzie’s diatribes to be “gross, scandalous and malicious libels.” On December 12th, he was expelled, after being called by the law officers a “spaniel dog,” “a reptile unworthy of the notice of any gentleman.”
However great the provocation the House singularly misjudged public opinion. They had given the Reformers a martyr. Mackenzie basked in the sunshine of popularity, a bad school for a man of his temperament. The by-election of the succeeding January was a severe lesson for the Compact. Their official candidate withdrew and Mackenzie enjoyed a carnival adorned with a gold medal and chain in public approval of his career. Attempts were made to prevent him taking his seat, but enough wisdom remained to recognize that expulsion was not a disability for parliamentary election. Mackenzie, however, was now in the heyday of triumph. His paper shewed neither repentance for past offences nor guarantees for good behaviour. Again he abused the Assembly and again he was expelled with the further declaration that he was incapable of being a member of the sitting Assembly.
The situation had now passed into extremes as foolish as Mackenzie’s own. The Assembly had created a disability, which they could not legally do. York broke out into wild tumult and sympathetic meetings were held throughout the province. The Tory party retaliated, once more attacked the office of the Colonial Advocate and burned Mackenzie in effigy in the streets of the Capital. Meanwhile, while the House was not sitting, Mackenzie had been once more elected. After experiencing a severe personal handling at Hamilton and the general exhibition of Tory violence, he determined to go to England. On May 1st, 1832, he set sail laden with petitions from his constituents and their sympathizers. In England his reception was not entirely a failure, in spite of huge counter petitions. He had several WILLIAM LYON MACKENZIE interviews with Lord Goderich, the colonial-secretary. His written communications to the Colonial Office were far from praiseworthy either in form or matter, but they contained enough of a substantial nature to convince Goderich that all was not well, and on November 8th, 1832, he issued a dispatch to the lieutenant-governor which “astonished and astounded” the Compact. The Compact indeed described it as an “elegant piece of fiddle faddle,” but the indecorous characterization was the measure of their resentment at Goderich’s palpable determination not to judge Upper-Canadian affairs solely from the statements of the Tory group.
When the next session of the legislature opened in October, 1832, Mackenzie, though absent in the body, was present as a perturbing spirit. Boulton and Hagerman gave their matured legal opinion that after a double expulsion Mackenzie could not sit and vote. This extraordinary opinion was upheld by a large majority and a new writ was ordered. So monstrous was this constitutional doctrine that no opponent came forward, and, in November, Mackenzie was returned unopposed. The result coloured the debate on Goderich’s dispatch. Boulton thought that the Colonial Office could have been better employed, while Hagerman declared that the dispatch was worthless being based on the reports of a man discredited by the Assembly. The expulsion of Mackenzie was once more moved. Goderich acted promptly. Hagerman and Boulton were removed from office. The former made such a strong personal appeal to the new colonial-secretary, Lord Stanley, that he was restored, but Boulton after an unworthy experience in Newfoundland returned to Upper Canada a convert to responsible self-government. In spite of Hagerman’s ultimate restoration to favour, Mackenzie had achieved a good deal in England, and he had proved that the Colonial Office was not entirely obtuse. When he returned to York he found he was no longer a member of the House. The old process was once more gone through and once more Mackenzie was returned without a contest.
The sequence forms one of the most shameful episodes in Canadian history. Mackenzie’s followers crowded to the House of Assembly, and a scene of disorder ensued, when he refused to withdraw and demanded to be allowed to take the oath. Next day he was again expelled on an old charge of libel. He appealed to the lieutenant-governor, and on Colborne’s advice he finally went to the clerk of the Executive Council, who administered to him the oath, acting under instructions from the governor. Even with such evidence before them Mackenzie was not allowed to sit. The Assembly disputed his presence and ordered his WILLIAM LYON MACKENZIE arrest by the sergeant-at-arms. A fierce debate followed, in which decorum was thrown to the winds. At the end of several hours Mackenzie was released but refused his seat. The parliament was on the eve of dissolution and Mackenzie was content to enjoy the wide popularity which his experiences had brought him. He proved himself an excellent first Mayor of York on its incorporation as the City of Toronto. Unfortunately his success in the municipal sphere did not bring him any political wisdom. He had formed a friendship with Joseph Hume, the English radical, and he rashly published a letter from him, in which phrases were used capable of a disloyal interpretation.
This lack of political sagacity had its effect in the elections of October, 1834. The publication caused alarm. The constitutionalists among the Reformers began to scan the future, while Ryerson and the Methodists studied the issues with care. The Reformers indeed secured a majority, but the soberer among them had refused to stand. Mackenzie’s journalistic indiscretion had undoubtedly weakened the party. When the legislature assembled Mackenzie then controlled the situation, and a select committee was appointed under his chairmanship to inquire into grievances. Its Report, though never formally approved, may be considered representative of Mackenzie’s political position 1835.
The Seventh Report on Grievances touches on the varied issues: patronage, official salaries, the status of the churches, land granting, pensions, public accounts, and the system of government. Grievances there were in plenty and the Report made the most of them, but once again Mackenzie’s judgment was wanting in that balance which allows concession to conditions and where possible recognizes achievements. Perhaps the most interesting part of the Report is constitutional. There appears to be a recognition that much of the political unrest was due to the machinery of government, and there is undoubted justice in the complaints that the Assembly was in the final analyses powerless. On the other hand, it is impossible to trace in the Report any clear-cut constitutional recommendations, least of all any conception of responsible cabinet government. This fact at any rate illustrates Mackenzie’s limitations. Within a few months his fellow reformer, Robert Baldwin, was to pen, as we shall see, for the Colonial Office a letter which contained the definite cure for colonial troubles.
The Report was at once printed and copies were sent to the colonial-secretary, Lord Glenelg, and to the members of the House of Commons. The British Cabinet grew alarmed. Colborne defended himself to the best of his ability against imperial censure for having apparently misjudged the situation. In spite of his defence he was relieved of his civil duties, and it looked as if Mackenzie WILLIAM LYON MACKENZIE had won a signal victory. The lieutenant-governor, however, did not lay down the reins of office before he carried out a singularly unwise act. His executive council advised him to establish and endow out of the clergy reserves fifty-seven Anglican rectories, and patents were actually issued for forty-four. The law and perhaps implicit Imperial approval were on Colborne’s side, but the action was highly inopportune and was charged with political friction. Mackenzie had the experience of finding his apparent success severely discounted. At a moment when his ten years of unequal and uneven agitation seemed likely to result in some sort of change for the better, it was his misfortune to see the church of the Tory party receive distinct public recognition. It was little wonder that the province more than ever began to look on it as a schemer behind the scenes before the hoped for new policy had time to take active form. As a matter of fact, Colborne’s action lost its significance before one of the gravest acts of Imperial indiscretion. His successor was Sir Francis Bond Head, under whom a momentous administration began, to which we shall return.
SIR JOHN COLBORNE
From an engraving in the Public Archives of Canada
At this point it is only necessary to recall the state of affairs and to reconstruct public sentiment the province. After years of agitation, which had acquired ever increasing support, the Compact group had learned nothing and forgotten nothing. Their outlook, already narrow enough, became more circumscribed under the appearance of Imperial reproof. Their language and behaviour lost dignity and balance. They failed to understand the issues or to recognize the growth of a newer political consciousness. To political difficulties they added the bitterness of religious superiority and social exclusiveness. Opposed to them was a body of Reformers who may be conveniently divided into liberals and radicals. The former were men of honour and standing who desired some method of working the political machinery which would give the vast body of the people an effective say in their government. This end they sought by constitutional means. The latter wished to hurry the process and were not over anxious about the means. Under Mackenzie’s guidance they lost political perspective. It was unfortunate for the province that the Tory group found a martyr in a man of Mackenzie’s temperament. Every partial success lifted him higher on the plane of vanity; every failure deepened his personal resentment and whetted his passion for revenge. To the rank and file of the people, incapable of making nice calculations of less or more, his outrageous treatment by the Assembly appeared only as an indication of Tory mentality. With Colborne’s removal in one hand, and the patents for the rectories in the other, he momentarily retired to his tent torn by conflicting feelings. His purpose was not clear until Bond Head’s régime drove the iron into his LOWER CANADA soul. He was not cast in the heroic mould of political patience nor disciplined in the fires of public life, and the final tragedy overtook him — the inexorable issue of structureless agitation.
