Read Ebook: Sir Wilfrid Laurier by McArthur Peter

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Ebook has 386 lines and 41630 words, and 8 pages

"I am never interviewed, you know."

"But, Sir," persisted the correspondent, "considering the magnitude of your victory and the unique place you now occupy, would it not be meet that you should say a word or two to the public, who are desirous of getting an indication from you of the policies you will carry out?"

He hesitated, yielded at last to persuasion, and gave a column and a quarter of copy, at once exceedingly interesting and valuable. He could not commit the party to any particular policy at the moment of victory. He would have to consult his colleagues, but nevertheless, he outlined in general terms what the party would stand for now that it had received the public mandate. He made it plain that he stood for the principle of harmony between the two great races in the Dominion. That had been his aim in life, and it would remain his aim as long as he lived. He had his principles which he considered those of progress, but he did not want any bitterness. He wanted co-operation and concord. It would be the realization of his life dream if he could bring the two races together.

At the time when the interview was granted the rotunda of the old St. Lawrence Hall was filled with his admirers. He was surrounded by young men full of ardour, idealists, many of them, disinterested and hopeful of great things for the country. The hardened political cynic was not absent either, but there was a whirl of emotion; the present and the future were enswathed in radiant hope and when the Chieftain came down to the rotunda--erect, with flashing eyes, the cheers were magnetic. Many eyes were wet. The tide of emotion swelled in every breast. He was lifted shoulder-high by his adherents, of whom there were hundreds present, all of whom believed that in the Liberal Leader they had a man who would save the country. It was after this tumultuous demonstration that the Premier gave out the interview.

The Liberal Chief all that day was followed by admiring crowds. On being reminded of the kind things which the English press had written about him from time to time, he said that he read every word of that kind of writing, not because of vanity, but because he loved to think that every kindly word written or spoken did something in bringing about a better feeling between the two great races. "I love England because she is the mother of free nations. I look up to her because she is the apostle of freedom. I admire her lofty ideals, her moral conscience, her high standards which she sets up. She is, it may be, a trifle Puritanic, but she is the greatest moral asset in the world, and I admire her statesmen intensely--John Bright has been my mentor and idol, and, of course, Gladstone, as the great apostle of freedom, both fiscally and politically."

President Emile Loubet, in January, 1906, was speaking at Le Madeleine, at the funeral of the Canadian Minister of Marine, who had died suddenly in Paris.

"I shall be happy," he said, "for having left in my career the one work, the great work of the entente cordiale, I had been convinced that the mutual interest of France and of England was that we should be united--first of all for our own protection, against the rest of the world; and then, after that, to protect the world as a whole.

"But do you know who it was that confirmed me in these ideas? Who implanted in my mind, irrevocably, that sense of duty to which I have responded with alacrity? It was that eminent statesman who directs the destinies of Canada to-day--Sir Wilfrid Laurier. For he was in a better position than I to appreciate the loyal and conciliatory character of Great Britain.

The phraseology of that frank admission proves beyond all doubt that the President was carried away by the suggestion, which was one, as he says, "Monsieur Laurier had put into his head, and that he never ceased to admire."

"Our English compatriots of Canada are frankly proud of the brilliant Montcalm and we, of our race, bow with respect before the memory and monument of General Wolfe. It may be that here in France the souvenirs of old feuds have not lost all their bitterness. But for us in Canada, of whatever race, those were glorious days when the colours of France and England--the tricolour and the Cross of St. George--floated in triumph on the heights of Alma, of Inkerman, and of Sebastapol.

"Now events have changed. Other alliances are imminent. But may it be permitted to a son of France, who is at the same time a British subject, to salute those glorious days with a regret that may find an echo in every generous soul on both sides of the channel."

"Messieurs, will you permit me in conclusion to take a liberty with your customs and while raising my glass to the chief of state in this country of my ancestors--to that sagacious man that France has selected for President--may I join another thought, not for you but for myself, and to couple with that toast, that of my own sovereign, the King of England, who is also, like myself, a friend of France."

That was not all that attached Sir Wilfrid to the history of the entente cordiale. On his return to London once more in 1907, one evening at a function in his honour at the Queen's Hall, where he sat in the Royal box, a messenger came to request him not to leave, as the custom is, immediately after "God Save the King."

Acquiescing he was surprised to hear the orchestra after the National Hymn, play the stirring strains of the "Marseillaise." It was the official recognition of what he had done for the entente cordiale.

In the work of reconciliation of race and country he had but one motive and that was the exaltation of Canada and the development of our national and Canadian spirit and the subversion of all petty and sectional antagonisms. He was the true imperialist, who saw this Empire as a voluntary confederation of free nations. Anything different and more centralized he regarded as a menace to this country and to the Empire as a free system. He left every man to his opinion.

In 1907, when the Imperial Conference of Premiers was meeting in London, , Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman was hesitating on the very threshold of granting complete self-government to the Boers. The Unionist party, particularly its high Tory wing, led by Lord Milner, and fortified by powerful influences, was fighting hard against such a measure. It was an open secret that members of "C.-B.'s" own Cabinet were not overly enthusiastic about the proposal. Lord Roseberry, although practically in retirement, was believed to be opposed, and had a powerful following among what was known as the Liberal Imperialists. Mr. Asquith, Sir Edward Grey, and Mr. Haldane, sometime followers of Roseberry, although in Campbell-Bannerman's Cabinet, were regarded as luke-warm and for a time it seemed as though Sir Henry himself might waver.

In the course of his participation in the Imperial Conference, Campbell-Bannerman was brought much into contact with Sir Wilfrid, and, being impressed with his wonderful comprehension and appreciation of the British Constitution, saw in him the fulfilment in Canada of what he hoped to do for South Africa, and invited him to a small gathering of Liberals to give his opinion upon the wisdom of self-government for the Boers.

Sir Wilfrid, as those who knew his ardent sympathy with small nationalities everywhere, can well understand, readily accepted the invitation. For nearly an hour he spoke with all his intense eloquence upon what trust and self-government had done to build up an united and prosperous Canada, to win the loyalty and devotion of French-Canadians, and toward the close, in a peroration of moving eloquence, asked why trust in the Boers would not achieve in South Africa what it had achieved in Quebec.

That speech is said to have been the decisive factor in influencing Campbell-Bannerman. Mr. Asquith in the great tribute which he once paid to his departed chief, significantly told how, after a certain event, Sir Henry said that in regard to his South African policy there would be "no surrender"; and there is little doubt as to the event he had in mind. Not long ago, a writer in the "Manchester Guardian," in paying a tribute to Campbell-Bannerman, referred to the support given him in regard to the Boers by an "overseas statesman," but apart from such meagre notice, Sir Wilfrid's noble part in this momentous drama is unknown to the world.

It is also known that in the possession of Sir Wilfrid there were a number of letters and documents dealing with this matter--letters from General Botha, and Campbell-Bannerman, and others--testifying to the great influence he exerted in such a far-reaching stroke of statesmanship.

It is to be hoped that they will soon be given to the world, if for no other reason than in justice to one who, was at all times, a noble interpreter and potent advocate of the blessings of human freedom.

Every once in a while during the past fifty years or more some one comes along with a new scheme to reconstruct the British Empire and when each architect finds his plan not workable he charges those who do not support it with disloyalty.

A charge made against Sir Wilfrid Laurier is that in the Imperial Conference of 1911 he opposed a scheme of Imperial reorganization proposed by Sir Joseph Ward, of New Zealand. The truth that is suppressed is that the proposal was rejected by the unanimous voice of the conference, the only exception being Sir Joseph Ward himself. We quote Mr. Asquith, Prime Minister, and President of the Conference:

"It is a proposition which not a single representative of any of the Dominions, nor I as representing for the time being the Imperial Government, could possibly assent to. For what does Sir Joseph Ward's proposal come to? I might describe the effect of it without going into details in a couple of sentences. It would impair, if not altogether destroy, the authority of the Government of the United Kingdom in such grave matters as the conduct of foreign policy, the conclusion of treaties, the declaration of maintenance of peace or the declaration of war, and indeed all those relations with foreign powers necessarily of the most delicate character, which are now in the hands of the Imperial Government, subject to its responsibility to the Imperial Parliament."

Mr. Asquith went on to say that the scheme would be absolutely fatal to the present system of responsible government. Sir Wilfrid Laurier was therefore attacked for defending the British constitution against a very grave danger.

The "Manchester Guardian" in its Empire Number of March 20th., 1917, had the following:--

"In Canada, again, so soon as the causes of the war were fully apprehended, all discussion of Canadian obligations and of the limit of Canadian liabilities to the Empire gave way before a passionate determination to lend all possible aid in a just cause. The mind of Canada was well expressed in a speech on the outbreak of war by Sir Wilfrid Laurier, leader of the Liberal Opposition, and the greatest and most venerable figure in Dominion statesmanship. Throughout his career he had resisted with the utmost of his power and eloquence all suggestions for a mechanical strengthening of the Imperial tie, and had the legal obligations of Canada at this crisis run counter to the mind of her people it would have been his part to make clear the discrepancy. On the first day of the emergency session of the Canadian Parliament he said:--

"It is our duty, more pressing upon us than all other duties . . . to let Great Britain know, that there is in Canada but one mind and one heart, and that all Canadians stand behind the mother country, conscious and proud that she had engaged in this war, not from any selfish motive, for any purposes of aggrandisement, but to maintain untarnished the honour of her name, to fulfill her obligations to her allies, to maintain her treaty obligations and to save civilization from the unbridled lust of conquest and power."

The secret of his great powers was not hard to find. Perhaps at the very foundation must be placed his broad tolerance and kindliness. He was first of all a Christian gentleman. Then following that must be placed his thorough mastery of the great writers in both English and French and a complete understanding of the points of view of these two people. It was characteristic of the man that he should always remember with kindly feelings the influence and atmosphere of the Scottish home where he lived for a period. It was there that he got his first love for the tongue of Shakespeare and Milton, and where he made himself familiar with the struggles and achievements of Fox, Bright, Morley, Gladstone and other great Liberal leaders.

No matter on what occasion or what his subject might be, his audience was always sure to be treated to some striking phrase or bit of imagery that made a lasting impression. On his return from Europe a few years ago, he urged the young men of the Dominion in the words of Henry of Navarre: "To follow his White Plume and there they would find honour." Again when speaking of the Grand Trunk Pacific project he announced that "it would roll back the map of Canada and add depth to the country."

The princeliness of his bearing was that which impressed the British public most when he first went to Great Britain in 1897, as a guest at Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee. Richard Harding Davis, who described that event for "Harper's Magazine," said that in the procession to Westminster Abbey on that occasion, the two individuals, who, after the aged Queen herself, most aroused the enthusiasm of the myriad spectators, were Lord Roberts, the typical military hero, and Sir Wilfrid Laurier, whom most of them saw for the first time. He appealed to England as an essentially romantic figure; typical of what British Imperial prestige stood for--a man of foreign race, whom Britain's wise colonial policy had made a distinguished servant of the Crown.

During the Royal tour of 1901, and at the Quebec Tercentenary celebration of 1908, one saw Sir Wilfrid in contact with the coterie of distinguished men that the present King, first as Duke of Cornwall and York, and later as Prince of Wales, brought with him to this country. To Canadians, whatever their politics, it gave a deep sense of satisfaction to recognize in their own Prime Minister, a man who seemed to embody the flower of civilization. Knighthood, though it be a bauble, never sat more fittingly on a modern man, than on him. Among all the men who constituted the Royal entourage, on both occasions, only one was his equal in this peculiar quality of high physical distinction, and that was Viscount Crichton, afterwards the Earl of Erne.

When he was Prime Minister, he usually arrived at his office at 10.30 a.m. Everyone in Ottawa knew Sir Wilfrid and his commanding figure always attracted attention. Once in his office there was usually a steady stream of visitors or deputations to be received. The deputations were usually heard after appointments had been arranged. In the afternoon the callers as a rule were not so numerous, and if the House was sitting there was frequently a meeting of the Cabinet Council before it came together at 3 o'clock.

In the late years of his premiership Sir Wilfrid avoided the night sessions whenever possible. Frequently he would occupy his seat for an hour after business was resumed in the evening and then go home leaving the fortunes of the Government forces in the hands of his ministers. When the House was not in session he usually left off business about 5 o'clock, sometimes being detained to a later hour by a meeting of the Cabinet Council.

The late leader as an English-speaking parliamentarian, was the wonder of his day and generation, and one had to be well acquainted with both languages to notice the least error in his English grammar. Sir Wilfrid always tripped up, however, in the use of the English verbs "to do" and "to make," which are one and the same "faire" in French, for very frequently he would make use of "do" when "make" was the proper English word, or vice versa. As a bilingual orator, it is safe to say, however, that Wilfrid Laurier stood alongside of such men as Real de la Valliere and ex-Premier Waddington of France, who spoke English and French. In the House of Commons Sir Wilfrid Laurier's English was simply magnificent, and, in fact, his models were John Bright, William Ewart Gladstone, Pitt, Earl of Chatham, and others of that splendid galaxy of British statesmen, whose names so brilliantly illuminate so many of the most fascinating pages of the Empire's history. He would, in fact, become so impregnated with English-expressed mannerisms that at the close of a long session of the House of Commons his English accent, when speaking his own mother tongue, would be distinctly marked. He was not always consistent, but was ever happy when pleading the cause of a minority or a lost cause, his speeches on the execution of Louis Riel, the Remedial Bill, and others, being amongst the most eloquent pages of the Commons Hansard. Sir Charles Tupper, when sitting opposite the late leader during his address on the amendment to reject the Remedial Bill, remarked to his desk-mate that if he had Laurier's facility of speech in the two official languages of this country he would willingly sacrifice whatever reputation he possessed as a public man.

Sir Wilfrid, it has often been said, had the distinction of an old world seigneur. His stature, his irregular but strong features, his dome-like forehead, his calm, wide eyes, his benevolent smile marked him down as the last seigneur of old French Canada. But about this distinction of his there was nothing put on or affected. He was above all things natural, and joined with this was a simplicity and a bonhomie essentially Canadian in its lack of all starched frills. He was one of the easiest men to see at Ottawa. With him red tape did not exist.

Pomp and pretence, decoration and display did not appeal to this great Canadian. He had no use for the sycophant, the bore or the grafter.

His clear eye, stately carriage, firmly compressed lips and general demeanour revealed the born leader of men, and in any gathering he stood out in picturesque relief from those around him like a Saul among his fellows. His dignified and courtly bearing as he walked to his seat was that of the French Empire period. Like Gladstone, Disraeli and other great men, his dress was always distinctive without being obtrusive. At all times he looked every inch the type of a statesman and a leader that appealed to the imagination of a people. His great strength as a leader lay in his personal charm and manner. Between Sir Wilfrid and his followers there subsisted the most intimate relations. To see him flit from seat to seat in the House for a quiet chat with some Liberal member was to discover one source of his marvellous hold on the affection of the Liberal rank and file.

When about to speak in the House he rose slowly, impressively. Proceeding with his argument, his gestures were not wasteful. He would point, perhaps, with the extended index finger of his outstretched right hand. Sometimes, this finger he held rigidly straight, and at other times crooked a little. And somehow by this slight change Sir Wilfrid conveyed a wholly different significance to his gesture.

When Sir Wilfrid came to a climax he would square his thin shoulders, throw his head gloriously back and upwards and look out over the listening benches as from a conning tower. He would even perhaps cease his vibrant utterance for an instant to gain an added emphasis to his words.

When annoyed little fine wrinkles would corrugate his forehead. Otherwise the whole of his personality was absolutely under control. His voice, though slurring, was penetrating, and ate its way into your attention by reason of its peculiarly blurred timbre. It was marked by an even consistency. His speeches were always animated and winning, but the speed at which he travelled never changed much, nor did he go to extremes of inflection. Sometimes he would be quietly humorous. Where he shone was in repartee, for he was always mentally alert and keen.

Whether he spoke in English or in French, it was the same Laurier, the orator of the "grand style." And like all speakers of this type, Sir Wilfrid was a past master in the coining of apt phrases that stick in the popular imagination. For example, he once called Ottawa the "Washington of the North." Ever since then the label has stuck. And so, in a hundred other cases, Sir Wilfrid has given journalists and those that come after him the necessary turn of thought, the needful word. His "grand method" was simply the outcome of his own nature--a nature at once distinguished and noble. And consequently not even his bitterest enemies ever charged him with doing a "mean" or "shabby" thing. As soon as you set eyes on him in the House you recognized that there was a man above buying or selling, a man with a code of honour, a man with a dignity. So his "grand" manner was but the visible and outward sign of this.

But this "grand" manner had nothing ponderous, heavy or deliberate about it. Laurier was French in his vivacity and finesse, in the quickness and brilliance of his repartee. He was the master of the quick, swift way in which he slipped off into the heart of his speeches. A handful of compliments or a short, sharp, stinging sarcasm; a gentle musical phrase, to jog someone's memory, or a word of aroused dignity, and Sir Wilfrid was easily racing along at full speed. And in his speech he had Gallic lucidity. Everything served to strengthen his argument. He not only appealed to his auditors' reason, but also to their emotions--and that was the secret of his popularity. He had the gift of being able to charm, move and stir. And it all perhaps was achieved more by his personality than by what was actually said. His mere appearance could raise enthusiasm.

The extraordinary thing was that no one seemed to remember that he was not speaking in his own tongue. Indeed, few of the English-speaking representatives have ever attained to a vocabulary half as large as his.

Sir Wilfrid always looked his part. He was one of those few public individuals, whose actual appearance did not disappoint you. The striking face, with its broad, lofty forehead; its tufted crown of white hair, its long, prominent nose, indicative of dominance and power, its alignment of chin and mouth sent your mind irresistibly back to memories of other great statesmen. It was the face of an aristocrat, while the mind belonged to the aristocracy of democracy. His eyes were set wide apart and they gazed steadily out at you. As a rule, his face was immobile, but when his eyes half closed, it was quick to break into a smile, the wrinkles running upward on his face like little waves succeeding one another on a beach. When listening or following a debate, Sir Wilfrid would lean forward with elbows rested on his desk and one hand up to his ear to convey the sound better.

As a rule, he wore a black frock coat with vest, the lapels lined with a white frill. His collar was straight and high, while his tie was so big and broad that you could not see his shirt. It literally choked up the opening of his vest with its splendour. The creases of his trousers were always perfect. His boots were the old-fashioned elastic-sided ones.

Strangers coming into the gallery of the House of Commons for the first time always looked for Laurier. He knew it and rather enjoyed the limelight. It was his custom to enter the House just a moment before opening hour, and as he passed down the corridors of Parliament on the way from his office to the Chamber it was frequently through a lane of people, every one of them watching him intently. He would pass along straight as a guardsman, serene, dignified and quite unmoved.

In the Chamber he was much given to visiting. From his seat in the front row, immediately opposite his Parliamentary opponent, Sir Robert Borden, he would move back among his more humble supporters and spend hours in earnest conversation with them. He knew his men individually, as none but Sir John Macdonald ever knew a following. Laurier had undoubtedly learned much from his former great rival. There were little mannerisms and tricks of speech and gestures that old-timers around Parliament declared he got only from Sir John.

"He was profuse in his thanks," said Sir Wilfrid, and he wound up by saying, "May Heaven be your bed, but may you be kept long out of it."

"Now I hope that some day heaven may be my bed," added the Liberal Chieftain, "but I don't think I am ripe for it yet. I hope Heaven won't be my bed until I have one more tussel with the Tories."

There were two Tory rural members of the House of Commons, for whom Sir Wilfrid always had a tender spot in his heart. One of these was the late Mr. Peter Elson, member for East Middlesex. The Liberal leader would frequently cross over the floor of the House for a chat. The other was Mr. Oliver Wilcox, member for North Essex, also since passed away. Mr. Wilcox had a rollicking manner in his Parliamentary debating that would at times convulse the whole House, and those who were there in those days, will long recall the way in which he would point a finger at the Liberal leader, refer to him always as "My honorable friend, the leader of the Liberal Opposition," and endeavour to convince Sir Wilfrid that he was a hopeless political sinner. Sometimes after one of these encounters they would meet outside in the corridor and walk away arm in arm.

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