Nothing is definitely known concerning Chief-Justice Osgoode's ancestry. A French-Canadian writer asserts that he was an illegitimate son of King George the Third. No authority whatever is assigned in support of this assertion, which probably rests upon no other basis than vague rumour. Similar rumours have been current with respect to the paternity of other persons who have been more or less conspicuous in Canada, and but little importance should be attached to them. He was born in the month of March, 1754, and entered as a commoner at Christchurch College, Oxford, in 1770, when he had nearly completed his sixteenth year. After a somewhat prolonged attendance at this venerable seat of learning, he graduated and received the degree of Master of Arts' in the month of July, 1777. Previous to this time he had entered himself as a student at the Inner Temple, having already been enrolled as a student on the books of Lincoln's Inn. He seems at this time to have been possessed of some small means but not sufficient for his support, and he pursued his professional studies with such avidity as temporarily to undermine his health. He paid a short visit to the Continent, and returned to his native land with restored physical and mental vigour. In due course he was called to the Bar, and soon afterwards published a technical work on the law of descent, which attracted some notice from the profession. He soon became known as an erudite and painstaking lawyer, whose opinions were entitled to respect, and who was very expert as a special pleader. At the Bar he was less successful, owing to an almost painful fastidiousness in his choice of words, which frequently produced an embarrassing hesitation of speech. He seems to have been a personal friend of Colonel Simcoe, even before that gentleman's appointment as Lieutenant-Governor of Upper Canada, and their intimacy may possibly have had something to do with Mr. Osgoode's appointment as Chief-Justice of the new Province in the spring of 1792. He came over in the same vessel with the Governor, who sailed on the 1st of May. Upon reaching Upper Canada the Governor and staff, after a short stay at Kingston, passed on to Newark (now Niagara). The Chief-Justice accompanied the party, and took up his abode with them at Navy Hall, where he continued to reside during the greater part of his stay in the Province which was of less than three years' duration. The solitude of his position, and his almost complete isolation from society, and from the surroundings of civilized life seem to have been unbearable to his sensitive and social nature. In 1795 he was appointed Chief-Justice of the Lower Province, where he continued to occupy the Judicial Bench until 1801, when he resigned his position, and returned to England. His services as Chief-Justice entitled him to a pension of L800 per annum, which he continued to enjoy for rather more than twenty-two years. For historical purposes, his career may be said to have ceased with his resignation, as he never again emerged from the seclusion of private life. He was several times requested to enter Parliament, but declined to do so. During the four years immediately succeeding his return to England he resided in the Temple. In 1804, upon the conversion of Melbourue House—a mansion in the West End of London—into the fashionable set of chambers known as "The Albany," he took up his quarters there for the remainder of his life. Among other distinguished men who resided there contemporaneously with him were Lord Brougham and Lord Byron. The latter occupied the set of chambers immediately adjoining those of the retired Chief-Justice, and the two became personally acquainted with each other; though, considering the diversity of their habits, it is not likely that any very close intimacy was established between them. In conjunction with Sir William Grant, Mr. Osgoode was appointed on several legal commissions. One of these consisted of the codification of certain Imperial Statutes relating to the colonies. Another commission in which he took part was an enquiry into the amount of fees receivable by certain officials in the Court of King's Bench, which enquiry was still pending at the time of his death. He lived very much to himself, though he was sometimes seen in society. He died of acute pneumonia on the 17th of January, 1824, in the seventieth year of his age. One of his intimate friends has left the following estimate of his character:—"His opinions were independent, but zealously loyal; nor were they ever concealed, or the defence of them abandoned, when occasions called them forth. His conviction of the excellence of the English Constitution sometimes made him severe in the reproof of measures which he thought injurious to it; but his politeness and good temper prevented any disagreement even with those whose sentiments were most opposed to his own. To estimate his character rightly, it was, however, necessary to know him well; his first approaches being cold, amounting almost to dryness. But no person admitted to his intimacy ever failed to conceive for him that esteem which his conduct and conversation always tended to augment. He died in affluent circumstances, the result of laudable prudence, without the smallest taint of avarice or illiberal parsimony. On the contrary, he lived generously, and though he never wasted his property, yet he never spared, either to himself or friends, any reasonable indulgence; nor was he backward in acts of charity or benevolence."

He was never married. There is a story about an attachment formed by him to a young lady of Quebec, during his residence there. It is said that the lady preferred a wealthier suitor, and that he never again became heart-whole. This, like the other story above mentioned, rests upon mere rumour, and is entitled to the credence attached to other rumours of a similar nature. His name is perpetuated in this Province by that of the stately Palace of Justice on Queen Street West, Toronto; also, by the name of a township in the county of Carleton.



LORD SYDENHAM.



Towards the close of last century there was in the City of London, England, a prominent mercantile house which carried on business under the style of "J. Thomson, T. Bonar & Co." The branch of commerce to which this house chiefly devoted its attention was the Russian trade. It had existed, under various styles, for more than a hundred years, and had built up so extensive a trade as to have a branch establishment at the Russian capital. The senior partner of the firm was John Thomson of Waverley Abbey, and Roehampton, in the county of Surrey. In the year 1820 this gentleman assumed the name of Poulett—in remembrance of his mother, who was heiress of a branch of the family of that name—and he was afterwards known as John Poulett Thomson. In 1781 he married Miss Charlotte Jacob, daughter of a physician at Salisbury. By this lady he had a numerous family, consisting of nine children. The youngest of these, Charles Edward Poulett Thomson, destined to be the first governor of United Canada, and to be raised to the peerage under the title of Baron Sydenham, was born on the 13th of September, 1799, at the family seat in Surrey—Waverley Abbey, above-mentioned. His mother had long been in delicate health, and at the time of his birth was so feeble as to give rise to much solicitude as to her chances of recovery. She finally rallied, but for some months she led the life of an invalid. Her feebleness reflected itself in the constitution of her son, who never attained to much physical strength. The feebleness of his body was doubtless increased by the nervous activity of his intellect, which constantly impelled him to mental feats incompatible with his delicate frame. It may be said that he passed through the forty-two years which made up the measure of his life in a chronic state of bodily infirmity. The fret and worry incidental to an ambitious parliamentary and official career doubtless also contributed their share to the shortening of his life.

His childhood was marked by a sprightly grace and beauty which made him a general favourite. In his fourth year he was for a time the especial pet of his Majesty King George III. He made the King's acquaintance at Weymouth, where, with other members of his family, he spent part of the summer of 1803. While walking on the Parade, in charge of his nurse, his beauty and sprightliness attracted the notice of His Majesty, who was also spending the season there, in the hope of regaining that physical and mental vigour which never returned to him. The King was much taken with the vivacity and pert replies of the handsome little fellow, and insisted on a daily visit from him. The child's conquest over the royal heart was complete, and His Majesty seemed to be never so well pleased as when he had little Master Thomson in his arms, carrying him about, and showing him whatever amusing sights the place afforded. On one occasion the King was standing on the shore near the pier-head, in conversation with Mr. Pitt, who had come down from London to confer with His Majesty about affairs of State. His Majesty was about to embark in the royal yacht for a short cruise, and, as was usual at that time of the day, he had Master Thomson in his arms. When just on the point of embarking, he suddenly placed the child in the arms of Mr. Pitt, saying hurriedly, "Is not this a fine boy, Pitt? Take him in your arms, Pitt—take him in your arms. Charming boy, isn't he?" Pitt complied with the royal request with the best grace he could, and carried the child in his arms to the door of his lodgings.

At the age of seven, Master Thomson was sent to a private school at Hanwell, whence, three years afterwards, he was transferred to the charge of the Rev. Mr. Wooley, at Middleton. After spending a short time there, he became a pupil of the Rev. Mr. Church, at Hampton, where he remained until he had nearly completed his sixteenth year. He then left school—his education, of course, being far from complete—and entered the service of his father's firm. It was determined that he should begin his mercantile career in the St. Petersburg branch, and in the summer of 1815 he was despatched to Russia. His fine manners and address, combined with the wealth and influence of the firm to which he was allied, obtained him access to the best society of St. Petersburg, where he spent more than two years. In the autumn of 1817, upon his recovery from a rather serious illness, it was thought desirable that he should spend the coming winter in a milder climate than that of St. Petersburg, and he returned to his native land. The next two or three years were spent in travelling on the Continent with other members of his family. He then entered the counting-house in London, where he spent about eighteen months. This brings us down to the year 1821. In the spring of that year he was admitted as a partner in the firm, and once more went out to St. Petersburg, where he again remained nearly two years. He then entered upon a somewhat prolonged tour through central and southern Russia, and across country to Vienna, where he spent the winter of 1823-4, and part of the following spring. Towards the end of April he set out for Paris, where his mother was confined by illness, and where she breathed her last almost immediately after her son's arrival. Mr. Thomson soon afterwards returned to London, where he settled down as one of the managing partners of the commercial establishment. In this capacity he displayed the same energy which subsequently distinguished his political and diplomatic career. He took a lively interest in the political questions of the day; more especially in those relating to commercial matters. He was a pronounced Liberal, and a strenuous advocate of free-trade. In the summer of 1825 advances were made to him to become the Liberal candidate for Dover at the next election. After due consideration he responded favourably to these advances, and was in due course returned by a considerable majority. One of his earliest votes in the House of Commons was in favour of free-trade. He soon became known as a ready and effective speaker, whose judgment on commercial questions was entitled to respect. His zeal for the principles of his party was also conspicuous, and when Earl Grey formed his Administration in November, 1830, the office of Vice-President of the Board of Trade, together with the Treasurership of the Navy, was offered to and accepted by Mr. Thomson. He was at the same time sworn in as a member of the Privy Council. The acceptance of the former office rendered it necessary for him to sever his connection with the commercial firm of which he had up to this time been a member, and he never again engaged in mercantile business of any kind. By this time, indeed, he had established for himself a reputation of no common order. The part he had taken in the debates of the House, and in the proceedings of its Committees, on questions connected with commerce and finance, had proved him to possess not only a clear practical acquaintance with the details of these subjects, but also principles of an enlarged and liberal character, and powers of generalization and a comprehensiveness of view rarely found combined in so young a man. The next three or four years were busy ones with him. It will be remembered that this was the era of the Reform Bill. Mr. Thomson did not take a prominent part in the discussions on that measure, his time being fully occupied with the financial and fiscal policy, but he put forth the weight of his influence in favour of the Bill. His principal efforts, during his tenure of office, were directed to the simplification and amendment of the Customs Act, and to an ineffectual attempt to negotiate a commercial treaty with France. After the dissolution in 1831 he was re-elected for Dover. He was, however, also elected—without any canvass or solicitation on his part—for Manchester, the most important manufacturing constituency in the kingdom; and he chose to sit for the latter. In 1834 he succeeded to the Presidency of the Board of Trade, as successor to Lord Auckland. Then followed Earl Grey's resignation and Lord Melbourne's accession. On the dismissal of the Ministry in November, Mr. Thomson was, of course, left without office, but on Lord Melbourne's re-accession in the following spring he was reinstated in the Presidency of the Board of Trade—an office which he continued to hold until his appointment as Governor-General of Canada.

Early in 1836 his health had become so seriously affected by his official labours that he began to recognize the necessity of resigning his office, and of accepting some post which would not so severely tax his energies. He continued to discharge his official duties, however, until the reconstruction of Lord Melbourne's Administration in 1839, when he signified his wish to be relieved. He was offered a choice between the office of Chancellor of the Exchequer and that of Governor-General of Canada. He chose the latter, and having received his appointment and been sworn in before the Privy Council, he set sail from Portsmouth for Quebec on the 13th of September, which was the fortieth anniversary of his birth. He reached his destination after a tedious, stormy voyage, and assumed the reins of government on the 19th of October. He was well received in this country. The mercantile community of Canada were especially disposed to favour the appointment of a man who had himself been bred to commercial pursuits, and who would be likely to feel a more than ordinary interest in promoting commercial interests.

Canada was at this time in a state of transition. Owing to the strenuous exertions of the Reform party in this country, seconded by Lord Durham's famous "Report," the concession of Responsible Government and the union of the provinces had been determined upon by the Home Ministry. It was Mr. Thomson's mission to see these two most desirable objects carried out. He had a most difficult part to play. As a pronounced Liberal, he naturally had the confidence of the Reform party, but there were a few prominent members of that party who did not approve of the Union project, and he felt that he could not count upon their cordial support. True, the opponents of the measure constituted a very small minority of the Reform party generally; but there was another party from whom the strongest opposition was to be expected—the Family Compact. This faction was not yet extinct, though its days were numbered. It still controlled the Legislative Council, which body had already recorded a vote hostile to the Union. The situation was one calling for the exercise of great tact, and the new Governor-General proved himself equal to the occasion. He made no changes in the composition either of the Special Council of the Lower Province—a body formed under Imperial sanction by Sir John Colborne—or in that of the Legislative Council of Upper Canada. After a short stay at Quebec he proceeded to Montreal, and convoked the Special Council on the 11th of November. He laid before this body the views of the Imperial Ministry relating to the union of the Provinces, and the concession of Responsible Government. By the time the Council had been in session two days the majority of the members were fully in accord with the Governor's views, and a series of resolutions were passed as a basis of Union. This disposed of the question, so far as the Lower Province was concerned, and after discharging the Council from further attendance, Mr. Thomson proceeded to Toronto to gain the assent of the Upper Canadian Legislature. With the Assembly no difficulty was anticipated, but to gain the assent of the Tory majority in the Legislative Council would evidently be no easy matter, for the success of the Governor's policy involved the triumph of Reform principles, and the inevitable downfall of the Family Compact. The Governor's tact, however, placed them in an anomalous position. For several years past the Tory party had been boasting of their success in putting down the Rebellion, and had raised a loud and senseless howl of loyalty. They were never weary of proclaiming their devotion to the Imperial will, irrespective of selfish considerations. This cry, which had been perpetually resounding throughout the Province during the last three years, supplied the Governor with the means of bending to his pleasure those who had raised it. He delivered a message to the Legislature in which he defined the Imperial policy, and appealed in the strongest terms to those professions of loyalty which the Tory majority in the Council were for ever proclaiming. He also published a circular despatch from Lord John Russell, the tone of which was an echo of that of his own message. The Tory majority were thus placed on the horns of a dilemma. They must either display their much-vaunted loyalty, by acceding to the Imperial will, or they must admit that their blatant professions had been mere party cries to deceive the electors. Their opposition, moreover, would render necessary the resignation of their offices. With the best grace they could, they announced their intention to support the Imperial policy. The Assembly passed resolutions in accordance with the spirit of Governor's message. Nothing further was necessary to render the Union an accomplished fact; except the sanction of the Imperial Parliament. A Union Bill, framed under the supervision of Sir James Stuart, Chief Justice of Lower Canada, was forwarded to England, where, in a slightly modified form, it was passed by both Houses, and received the royal assent. Owing to a suspending clause in the Bill, it did not come into operation until the 10th of February, 1841, when, by virtue of the Governor-General's proclamation, the measure took effect, and the union of the Canadas was complete.

Soon after the close of the session of the Upper Canadian Legislature, Mr. Thomson was raised to the peerage by the title of Baron Sydenham, of Sydenham, in Kent, and Toronto in Canada. The greater part of the following autumn was spent by him in travelling about through the Upper Province. He seems to have been greatly pleased both with the country and the people. The following extract from a private letter, written from the shores of the Bay of Quinte on the 18th of September, is worth quoting, as showing the impressions of an intelligent observer at that time:—"Amherstburg, Sandwich, River St. Clair, Lake Huron, Goderich, Chatham, London, Woodstock, Brantford, Simcoe, the Talbot Road and Settlement, Hamilton, Dundas, and so back to Toronto—you can follow me on a map. From Toronto across Lake Simcoe to Penetangnishene on Lake Huron again, and back to Toronto, which I left again last night for the Bay of Quinte, all parties uniting in addresses at every place, full of confidence in my government, and of a determination to forget their former disputes. Escorts of two and three hundred farmers on horseback at every place from township to township, with all the etceteras of guns, music, and flags. What is of more importance, my candidates everywhere taken for the ensuing elections. In short, such unanimity and confidence I never saw, and it augurs well for the future.... The fact is that the truth of my original notion of the people of this country is now confirmed. The mass only wanted the vigorous interference of a well-intentioned government, strong enough to control both the extreme parties, and to proclaim wholesome truths and act for the benefit of the country at large, in defiance of ultras on either side. But, apart from all this political effort, I am delighted to have seen this part of the country—I mean the great district, nearly as large as Ireland, placed between the three lakes, Erie, Ontario, and Huron. You can conceive nothing finer. The most magnificent soil in the world; four feet of vegetable mould; a climate, certainly the best in North America. The greater part of it admirably watered. In a word, there is land enough and capabilities enough for some millions of people, and for one of the finest Provinces in the world. The most perfect contrast to that miserable strip of land along the St. Lawrence called Lower Canada, which has given so much trouble. I shall fix the capital of the United Provinces in this one, of course. Kingston will most probably be the place. But there is everything to be done there yet, to provide accommodation for the meeting of the Assembly in the spring."

As suggested in the foregoing extract, Kingston was fixed upon as the seat of Government of the United Provinces, and the Legislature assembled there on the 13th of June, 1841. The Governor-General's speech at the opening of the session was marked by tact, moderation, and good sense. A strong Opposition, however, soon began to manifest itself, and Mr. Neilson, of Quebec, moved an amendment to the Address directly condemnatory of the Union. The amendment was defeated by a vote of 50 to 25. Throughout the session nearly all the Government measures received the support of the House, an important exception being the French Election Bill. Meanwhile the state of Lord Sydenham's health was such as to render his duties very difficult for him, and as the great object of his mission to Canada had been successfully accomplished, he resolved to return home at the close of the session. He forwarded his resignation to the Home Secretary, having already received leave of absence which would obviate the necessity of his remaining at his post until the acceptance of his resignation. Of this leave, however, he was not destined to avail himself. On the 4th of September he felt himself well enough to ride out on horseback. While returning homeward he put his horse to a canter, just as he began to ascend a little hill not far from Alwington House, his residence, near the lake shore. When about half way up the hill, the horse stumbled and fell, crashing his rider's right leg beneath his weight. The animal rose to its feet and dragged Lord Sydenham—whose right foot was fast in the stirrup—for a short distance. One of his aides, who just then rode up, rescued the Governor from his perilous position and conveyed him home, when it was found that the principal bone of his right leg, above the knee, had sustained an oblique fracture, and that the limb had also received a severe wound from being bruised against a sharp stone, which had cut deeply and lacerated the flesh and sinews. Notwithstanding these serious injuries, and the shock which his nervous system had sustained, his medical attendants did not at first anticipate danger to his life. He continued free from fever, and his wounds seemed to be going on satisfactorily; but he was debilitated by perpetual sleeplessness and inability to rest long in one position. On the ninth day after his injury dangerous symptoms began to manifest themselves, and it soon became apparent that he would not recover. After a fortnight of great suffering, he breathed his last on Sunday, the 19th, having completed his forty-second year six days previously.

"His fame," says his biographer, "must rest not so much on what he did or said in Parliament as on what he did and proposed to do out of it—on his consistent and to a great degree successful efforts to expose the fallacy of the miscalled Protective system, and gradually, but effectively, to root it out of the statute-book, and thereby to free the universal industry of Britain from the mischievous shackles imposed by an ignorant and mistaken selfishness."

His Canadian administration may be looked upon as a brief and brilliant episode in his public career. In private life he was much loved and highly esteemed. His amiable disposition and pleasing manner excited the warmest attachment among those who were admitted to his intimacy, and in every circumstance that affected their happiness he always appeared to take a lively personal interest. In the midst of his occupations he always had time for works of kindness and charity. In a letter to an idle friend who had been remiss in correspondence, he once said, "Of course you have no time. No one ever has who has nothing to do." His assistance was always promptly and eagerly afforded whenever he could serve his friends, or confer a favour on a deserving object. His integrity and sense of honour were high, and his disinterestedness was almost carried to excess. The remuneration for his official services was lower than that of any other official of equal standing, and far below his deserts. Never having married, however, owing to an early disappointment, his needs were moderate, and his private fortune considerable. His person and manner were very prepossessing, and his aptitude and acquired knowledge great. He was very popular in the social circle, and his death left a void among his friends which was never filled.



MONTCALM.



"Go to; the boy is a born generalissimo, and is destined to be a Marshal of France," said M. Ricot, holding up his hands in amazement. The boy referred to was a little fellow seven or eight years of age, by name Louis Joseph de Saint Veran. M. Ricot was his tutor, and was led to express himself after this fashion in consequence of some precocious criticisms of his pupil on the tactics employed by Caius Julius Caesar at a battle fought in Transalpine Gaul fifty odd years before the advent of the Christian era. It was evident to the critic's youthful mind that the battle ought to have resulted differently, and that if the foes of "the mighty Julius" had had the wit to take advantage of his indiscretion, certain pages of the "Commentaries" might have been conceived in a less boastful spirit. Little Louis Joseph had sketched a rough plan, showing the respective positions of the opposing forces, and had then demanded of his tutor why this had not been done, why that had been neglected, and why the other had never been even so much as thought of. M. Ricot, after carefully following out the reasoning of his pupil, could find no weak point therein, and was fain to admit that the Great Roman had been guilty of a huge blunder in the arrangement of his forces. Fortunately for the General's military reputation, the Gauls had been beaten in spite of his defective strategy, and he himself had survived to transmit to posterity a rather egotistical account of the affair. M. Ricot had been reading those "Commentaries" all his life—reading them, as he supposed, critically—but he had never lighted upon the discovery which his present pupil had made upon a first perusal. Well might he exclaim, "Go to; the boy is a born generalissimo, and is destined to be a marshal of France."

Such is the anecdote—preserved in an old volume of French memoirs—of the childhood of him who subsequently became famous on two continents, and who for more than a hundred years past has been accounted one of the most redoubtable commanders of his age. If the story is true, certainly the Marquis de Montcalm did not carry out the splendid promise of his boyhood. He lived to fight the battles of his country with unflinching courage, with a tolerable amount of military skill, and with a tenacity of purpose that often achieved success against tremendous odds. But, unlike the great general to whom, during the last few weeks of his life, it was his fortune to be opposed, he never gave any evidence of possessing an original military genius—such a genius as would seem to have been possessed by the youth who figures in the foregoing anecdote. His chivalrous bravery, his high-bred courtesy, and, more than all, his untimely death, have done much to make his name famous in history, and to obscure certain features of character which we are not usually accustomed to associate with greatness. "History," says Cooper, "is like love, and is apt to surround her heroes with an atmosphere of imaginary brightness. It is probable that Louis de Saint Veran will be viewed by posterity only as the gallant defender of his country, while his cruel apathy on the shores of the Oswego and the Horican will be forgotten."

He was descended from a noble French family, and was born at the Chateau of Candiac, near Nismes, in southern France, on the 28th of February, 1712. Concerning his early years but few particulars have come down to us. He seems to have entered the army before he had completed his fourteenth year, and to have distinguished himself in various campaigns in Germany, Bohemia and Italy during the war for the Austrian succession. At the disastrous battle of Piacenza, in Italy, fought in the year 1746, he gained the rank of colonel; and in 1749 he became a brigadier-general. Seven years subsequent to the latter date he began to figure conspicuously in Canadian history, and from that time forward we are able to trace his career pretty closely. Early in 1756, having been elevated to the rank of a Field-Marshal—thus verifying the prediction of his old tutor—he was appointed successor to the Baron Dieskau in the chief command of the French forces in this country. He sailed from France early in April, and arrived at Quebec about a month afterwards. He was accompanied across the Atlantic by a large reinforcement, consisting of nearly 14,000 regular troops, and an ample supply of munitions of war. He at once began to set on foot those active operations against the British in America which were followed up with such unremitting vigilance throughout the greater part of the following three years.

The state of affairs in Canada at this period may be briefly summarized as follows:—The Government was administered by the Marquis de Vaudreuil-Cavagnal, a man ill-fitted for so onerous a position in such troublous times. The colony extended from the seaboard to the far west, through the valley of the Ohio, and had a white population of about 80,000. Previous to Montcalm's arrival there were 3,000 veteran French troops in the country, in addition to a well-trained militia. The country, indeed, was an essentially military settlement, and the people felt that they might at any time be called upon to defend their frontiers. The countless tribes and offshoots of the Huron-Algonquin Indians had cast in their lot with the French, and were to contribute not a little to the success of many of their warlike operations. The French, by means of their forts at Niagara, Toronto and Frontenac (Kingston), held almost undisputed sovereignty over Lake Ontario; and their forts at Crown Point and Ticonderoga enabled them to control Lake Champlain.

Still, the French colonists laboured under some serious disadvantages, which contributed eventually to decide the contest adversely to them. They had given comparatively little attention to the cultivation of the soil, and suffered from a chronic scarcity of food. They were subjected to feudal exactions ill-suited to the condition of the country, and were further impoverished by huge commercial monopolies. Every branch of the public service was corrupt, and the peculations of the officials, if not shared by the Governor himself, were at least winked at or sanctioned by him. Montcalm, whatever may have been his shortcomings in some respects, was no self-seeker, and was very properly disgusted with the mal-administration which everywhere prevailed. His dissatisfaction with, and contempt for, the Governor, had the effect of producing much internal dissention among the Canadians, and of hastening the downfall of French dominion in the colony.

The population of the British colonies at this time was not much less than three millions; but this population, unlike that of Canada, knew little of military affairs. The British colonists had spent their time in commercial and agricultural pursuits, and had not cast loose from the spirit of puritanism which had animated the breasts of their forefathers. As compared with the mother-country they were poor enough in all conscience, but they were as a rule, frugal, industrious and intelligent; and, as compared with their Canadian neighbours, they might almost be said to be in affluent circumstances. They possessed in an eminent degree those qualities—energy, endurance, and courage—which mark the Anglo-Saxon race in every quarter of the globe. Such a foe, if once disciplined and roused to united action, was not to be despised, even by the veteran battalions of France, and the most Christian King showed his appreciation of this fact by sending against them a general who was regarded as the most consummate soldier in Europe.

Having arrived at Quebec about the middle of May, Montcalm lost no time in opening the campaign. One of his earliest proceedings was to lay siege to Fort Oswego, which after a faint resistance, was compelled to surrender. Articles of capitulation were signed, the British laid down their arms, and the fort was delivered over to the conquerors. One hundred and thirty-four cannon and a large quantity of specie and military stores became the spoil of the victors, and more than 1,600 British subjects, including 120 women and children, became prisoners of war.

Up to this epoch in his career the conduct of the Marquis de Montcalm had been such as to deserve the unqualified admiration alike of his contemporaries and of posterity. Though not past his prime, he had achieved the highest military distinction which his sovereign could bestow. His chivalrous courage had been signally displayed on many a hard-fought field, and his urbanity, amiability, and generosity had made him the idol of his soldiers. He had a manner at once grand and ingratiating, and in his intercourse with others he manifested a bonhomme that caused him to be beloved alike by the simple soldier and the haughty noblesse of his native land. Considering his opportunities he had been a diligent student, and had improved his mind by familiarity with the productions of many of the greatest writers of ancient and modern times. By far the greater part of his life had been spent in the service of his country, and when compelled to endure the privations incidental to an active military life in the midst of war, he had ever been ready to share his crust with the humblest soldier in the ranks. Up to this time every action of his life had seemed to indicate that he was a man of high principle and stainless honour. If it had been his good fortune to die before the fall of Oswego his name would have been handed down to future times as a perfect mirror of chivalry—a knight without fear and without reproach. It is sad to think that a career hitherto without a blot should have been marred with repeated acts of cruelty and breaches of faith. On both counts of this indictment the Marquis of Montcalm must be pronounced guilty; and in view of his conduct at Oswego, and afterwards at Fort William Henry, the only conclusion at which the impartial historian can arrive is that he was lamentably deficient in the highest attributes of character.

Fort Oswego was surrendered on the 14th of August. By the terms of capitulation the sick and wounded were specially entrusted to Montcalm, whose word was solemnly pledged for their protection and safe conduct. How was the pledge redeemed? No sooner were the British deprived of their arms than the Indian allies of the French were permitted to swoop down upon the defenceless prisoners and execute upon them their savage will. The sick and wounded were scalped, slain, and barbarously mutilated before the eyes of the Marshal of France, who had guaranteed that not a hair of their heads should fall. Nay, more; a score of the prisoners were deliberately handed over to the savages to be ruthlessly butchered, as an offering to the manes of an equal number of Indians who had been slain during the siege.

Such are the unimpeachable facts of the massacre at Oswego. It is not probable that these proceedings on the part of the Indians were agreeable to the feelings of Montcalm, or that he consented to them with a very good grace. The noble representative of the highest civilization in Europe could scarcely have taken pleasure in witnessing the hideous massacre of defenceless women and children. But he was anxious to retain the co-operation of his red allies at any cost, and had not the moral greatness to exercise his authority to restrain their savage lust for blood. It has been contended by some defenders of his fame that he had no choice in the matter—that the ferocity of the savages was aroused, and could not be controlled. It is sufficient to say in reply that those who argue thus must wilfully shut their eyes to the facts. Was it because he could not restrain his allies that he, without remonstrance, delivered up to them twenty British soldiers to be tortured, cut to pieces, and burned? Was he unable to restrain them when he finally became sickened with their butchery and personally interposed to prevent its further continuance? From the moment when his will was unmistakably made known to the Indians the massacre ceased; and if he had been true to himself and his solemnly-plighted word from the beginning, that massacre would never have begun. By no specious argument can he be held guiltless of the blood of those luckless victims whose dismembered limbs were left to fester before the entrenchments at Oswego.

With the surrender of Oswego Great Britain lost her last vestige of control over Lake Ontario. The fort was demolished, and the French returned to the eastern part of the Province. The result of the campaign of 1756 was decidedly in favour of the French, and Montcalm's reputation as a military commander rose rapidly, though his conduct at Oswego led to his being looked upon with a sort of distrust that had never before attached to his name. His courage and generalship, however, were unimpeachable, and his vigilance never slept. During the following winter his spies scoured the frontiers of the British settlements, and gained early intelligence of every important movement of the forces. Among other information, he learned that the British had a vast store of provisions and munitions of war at Fort William Henry, at the southwestern extremity of Lake George. Early in the spring, Montcalm resolved to capture this fort, and to possess himself of the stores. On the 16th of March, 1757, he landed on the opposite side of the lake, at a place called Long Point. Next day, having rounded the head of the lake, he attacked the fort; but the garrison made a vigorous defence, and he was compelled to retire to Fort Ticonderoga, at the foot of the lake! For several months afterwards his attention was distracted from Fort William Henry by operations in different parts of the Province; but early in the month of August he renewed the attempt with a force consisting of 7,000 French and Canadian troops, 2,000 Indians, and a powerful train of artillery. The garrison consisted of 2,300 men, besides women and children. To tell the story of the second siege and final surrender of Fort William Henry would require pages. Suffice it to say that the dire tragedy of Oswego was re-enacted on a much more extended scale. For six days the garrison was valiantly defended by Lieutenant-Colonel Munro, a veteran of the 35th Regiment of the line. Day after day did the gallant old soldier defend his trust, waiting in vain for succours that never arrived. Finally, when he learned that no succours were to be expected, and that to prolong the strife would simply be to throw away the lives of his men, he had an interview with the French commander and agreed to an honourable capitulation.

Again did Montcalm pledge his sacred word for the safety of the garrison, which was to be escorted to Fort Edward by a detatchment of French troops. The sick and wounded were to be taken under his own protection until their recovery, when they were to be permitted to return to their own camp.

Such were the terms of capitulation; terms which were honourable, to the victor, and which the vanquished could accept without ignominy. How were these terms carried out? No sooner were the garrison well clear of the fort than the shrill war-whoop of the Indians was heard, and there ensued a slaughter so terrible, so indiscriminate, and so inconceivably hideous in all its details that even the history of pioneer warfare hardly furnishes any parallel to it. Nearly a thousand victims were slain on the spot, and hundreds more were carried away into hopeless captivity. No more graphic or historically accurate description of that scene has ever been written than is to be found in "The Last of the Mohicans," where we read that no sooner had the war-whoop sounded than upwards of two thousand raging savages burst from the forest and threw themselves across the plain with instinctive alacrity. "Death was everywhere, in its most terrific and disgusting aspects. Resistance only served to inflame the murderers, who inflicted their furious blows long after their victims were beyond the reach of their resentment. The flow of blood might be likened to the outbreaking of a gushing torrent; and as the natives became heated and maddened by the sight, many among them kneeled on the earth and drank; freely, exultingly, hellishly, of the crimson tide. The trained bodies of the British troops threw themselves quickly into solid masses, endeavouring to awe their assailants by the imposing appearance of a military front. The experiment in some measure succeeded, though many suffered their unloaded muskets to be torn from their hands in the vain hope of appeasing the savages."

It has been alleged on Montcalm's behalf that when the slaughter began he used his utmost endeavours to arrest it. His utmost endeavours! Why, even if his command was insufficient to restrain his allies, he had seven thousand regular troops with arms in their hands, at his back. Instead of theatrically baring his breast, and calling upon the savages to slay him in place of the English, for whom his honour was plighted, he would have done well to have kept that honour unsullied by observing the plain terms of capitulation, and providing a suitable escort. Instead of calling upon the British—hampered as they were by the presence of their sick, and of their women and children—to defend themselves, he should have called upon his own troops to protect his honour and that of France. Had his promised escort been provided no attempt would have been made by the Indians, and the tragedy at Oswego might in process of time have come to be regarded as a mere mischance. But no such excuse can now be of any avail. According to some accounts of this second massacre, no escort whatever was furnished. According to others, the escort was a mere mockery, consisting of a totally inadequate number of French troops, who were very willing to see their enemies butchered, and who did not even make any attempt to restrain their allies. All that can be known for certain is, that if there was any escort at all it was wholly ineffective; and, leaving humanity altogether out of the question, this was in itself an express violation of the terms upon which the garrison had been surrendered. The massacre at Fort William Henry followed one short year after that at Oswego, and the two combined have left a stain upon the memory of the man who permitted them which no time can ever wash away.

Time and space alike fail us to describe at length the subsequent campaigns of that and the following year. Montcalm's defence of Fort Ticonderoga on the 8th of June, 1758, was a masterly piece of strategy, and was unmarred by any incident to detract from the honour of his victory, which was achieved against stupendous odds. Ticonderoga continued to be Montcalm's headquarters until Quebec was threatened by the British under Wolfe; when he at once abandoned the shores of Lake Champlain, and mustered all his forces for the defence of the capital of the French colony.

The siege of Quebec has been described at length in a former sketch, and it is unnecessary to add much to that description here. It will be remembered how Wolfe landed at L'Anse du Foulon in the darkness of the night of September 12th, 1759, and how the British troops scaled the precipitous heights leading to the Plains of Abraham. Intelligence of this momentous event reached Montcalm, at his headquarters at Beauport, about daybreak on the morning of the 13th. "Aha," said the General, "then they have at last got to the weak side of this miserable garrison." He at once issued orders to break up the camp, and led his army across the St. Charles River, past the northern ramparts of the city, and thence on to the plains of Abraham, where Wolfe and his forces were impatiently awaiting his arrival. The battle was of short duration. The first deadly volley fired by the British decided the fortunes of the day, and the French fled across the plains in the direction of the citadel. Montcalm, who had himself received a dangerous wound, rode hither and thither, and used his utmost endeavour to rally his flying troops. While so engaged he received a mortal wound, and sank to the ground. From that moment there was no attempt to oppose the victorious British, whose general had likewise fallen in the conflict.

Montcalm's wound, though mortal, was not immediately so, and he survived until the following day. When the surgeons proceeded to examine his wound the general asked if it was mortal. They replied in the affirmative. "How long before the end?" he calmly enquired. He was informed that the end was not far off, and would certainly, arrive before many hours. "So much the better," was the comment of the dying soldier—"I shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec." The commander of the garrison asked for instructions as to the further defence of the city, but Montcalm declined to occupy himself any longer with worldly affairs. Still, even at this solemn moment, the courteous urbanity by which he had always been distinguished did not desert him. "To your keeping," he said, to De Ramesey, "I commend the honour of France. I wish you all comfort, and that you may be happily extricated from your present perplexities. As for me, my time is short, and I have matters of more importance to attend to than the defence of Quebec I shall pass the night with God, and prepare myself for death." Not long afterwards he again spoke: "Since it was my misfortune to be discomfitted and mortally wounded, it is a great consolation to me to be vanquished by so great and generous an enemy. If I could survive this wound, I would engage to beat three times the number of such forces as I commanded this morning with a third of their number of British troops." His chaplain arrived about this time, accompanied by the bishop of the colony, from whom the dying man received the last sacred offices of the Roman Catholic religion. He lingered for some hours afterwards, and finally passed away, to all outward seeming, with calmness and resignation.

It seems like an ungrateful task to recur to the frailties of a brave and chivalrous man, more especially when he dies in the odour of sanctity. But as we ponder upon that final scene in the life of the gay, charming, brilliant Marquis of Montcalm, we cannot avoid wondering whether the "sheeted ghosts" of the wounded men, helpless women, and innocent babes who were so ruthlessly slaughtered at Oswego and William Henry flitted around his pillow in these last fleeting moments. Notwithstanding the fact that his mind seemed to receive solace from the solemn rites in which he then took part, we have never read the account of those last hours of Montcalm without being reminded of the lines of the British Homer descriptive of the death of him who fell "on Flodden's fatal field."

The exact place of Montcalm's death has never been definitely ascertained. Various sites are indicated by different authorities, but no conclusive evidence has been adduced in support of the claims of any of them. It is, however, known for certain that his body was interred within the precincts of the Ursuline Convent at Quebec, where a mural tablet was erected by Lord Aylmer to his memory in 1832. The following is a translation of the inscription:—

HONOUR TO MONTCALM! FATE, IN DEPRIVING HIM OF VICTORY, RECOMPENSED HIM BY A GLORIOUS DEATH.

A few years ago his remains were disinterred, and his skull, with its base enclosed in a military collar, is religiously preserved in a glass case on a table in the convent. The monument to the joint memory of Wolfe and Montcalm has been referred to in a previous sketch.

Thus lived and died the Marquis of Montcalm. He was forty-seven years of age at the time of his death, and was constitutionally younger than his years would seem to indicate. A Canadian historian thus sums up the brighter side of his character: "Trained from his youth in the art of war; laborious, just, and self-denying, he offered a remarkable exception to the venality of the public men of Canada at this period, and in the midst of universal corruption made the general good his aim. Night, the rushing tide, veteran discipline, and more brilliant genius had given his rival the victory. Yet he was not the less great; and while the name of Wolfe will never be forgotten, that of Montcalm is also engraved by its side on the enduring scroll of human fame. The latter has been censured for not abiding the chances of a siege, rather than risking a battle. But with a town already in ruins, a garrison deficient in provisions and ammunition, and an enemy to contend with possessed of a formidable siege-train, the fire of which must speedily silence his guns, he acted wisely in staking the issue on a battle, in which, if he found defeat, he met also an honourable and a glorious death."



LORD ELGIN.



James Bruce, who afterwards became eighth Earl of Elgin and twelfth Earl of Kincardine, was born in London, on the 20th of July, 1811. He was the second son of his father, the seventh Earl, whose embassy to Constantinople at the beginning of the present century was indirectly the means of procuring for him a reputation which will probably endure as long as the English language. All readers of Byron are familiar with the circumstances under which this reputation was gained. In the year 1799, Lord Elgin was despatched by the British Government as envoy extraordinary to Constantinople. During his embassy he had occasion to visit Athens, where he found that the combined influence of time and the Turks was rapidly destroying the magnificent vestiges of the past wherewith the city and its neighbourhood abounded. Actuated by a wish to preserve some of these relics of departed greatness—and probably wishing to connect his name with their preservation—he conceived the idea of removing a few of the more interesting of them to England. Without much difficulty he obtained permission from the Porte to take away from the ruins of ancient Athens "any stones that might appear interesting to him." The British Government declined to lend its assistance to what some members of the Cabinet regarded as an act of spoliation, and Lord Elgin was thus compelled to carry out the project at his own expense. He hired a corps of artists, labourers, and other assistants, most of whom were specially brought from Italy to aid in the work. About ten years were spent in detaching from the Parthenon, and in excavating from the rubbish at its base, numerous specimens of various sculptures, all or most of which were presumed to have been the handiwork of Phidias and his pupils. Other valuable sculptures were disinterred from the ruins about the Acropolis, and elsewhere in the neighbourhood. Upon the arrival in England of these great works of ancient art all the world of London went to see and admire them. In 1816 they were purchased for the nation for L35,000, and placed in the British Museum, where they still remain. Many persons, however, censured Lord Elgin for what they called his Vandalism in removing the relics from their native land. Among those who assailed him on this score was Lord Byron, who hurled anathemas at him both in prose and verse. "The Curse of Minerva" may fairly be said to have made Lord Elgin's name immortal. The case made against him in that fierce philippic, however, is grossly one-sided, as the author himself subsequently acknowledged; and there is a good deal to be said on the other side. The presence of these magnificent sculptures in the British Museum gave an impetus to sculpture not only throughout Great Britain, but to a less extent throughout the whole of Western Europe. It should also be remembered that had they been permitted to remain where they were they would most likely have been totally destroyed long before now in some of the many violent scenes of which Athens has since been the theatre. Some art critics have—more especially of late years—decried the workmanship of these marbles, and have argued that they could not possibly have been the work of Phidias. It is beyond doubt, however, that they display Greek art at a splendid and mature stage of development, and their value to the British nation is simply beyond price.

The subject of this sketch was destined to achieve a higher and less dubious reputation than that of his father. Being only a second son, he was not born heir-apparent to the family title and estates, and his education was completed before—in consequence of the death of his elder brother and of his father—he succeeded to the peerage. At the age of fourteen he went to Eton, from which seat of learning he in due time passed to Christ Church, Oxford. Here he formed one of a group of young men, many of whom have since attained high distinction in political life. Among them we find the names of William Ewart Gladstone, the late Duke of Newcastle (the friend and guardian of the Prince of Wales upon the occasion of his visit to this country in 1860), Sidney Herbert, James Ramsay (afterwards Earl of Dalhousie, son of a former Governor-General of Canada), Lord Canning, Robert Lowe, Edward Cardwell, and Roundell Palmer—now Lord Selborne. Between young Bruce and two of these—Ramsay and Canning—an uncommonly warm intimacy prevailed; and it is a somewhat curious coincidence that they lived to be the three successive rulers of India during the transition period of British Government there. Ramsay, then Lord Dalhousie, was the last Governor before the breaking out of the Mutiny; Canning was the over-ruler of the Mutiny; and Bruce, as Lord Elgin, was the first who went out as Viceroy after the Indian Empire was brought under the government of the Crown.

Among the brilliant young men who were his friends and compeers at college, James Bruce is said to have been as conspicuous as any for the brilliancy and originality of his speeches at the Union. Mr. Gladstone himself has said of him, "I well remember placing him, as to the natural gift of eloquence, at the head of all those I knew, either at Eton or at the University." But he was not less distinguished by maturity of judgment, by a love of abstract thought, and by those philosophical studies which lay the foundation of true reasoning in the mind. In 1834 he published a pamphlet to protest against a monopoly of Liberal sentiment by the Whigs; and in 1841 he went into the House of Commons for Southampton on Conservative principles, which had, however, a strong flavour of Whiggism about them. He soon developed a remarkable aptitude for political life. He seconded the Address which turned out Lord Melbourne and brought in Sir Robert Peel, in a speech prophetically favourable to free trade, and he would doubtless have been a cordial supporter of Peel's liberal commercial policy had not his Parliamentary career speedily come to an end. In 1840, George, Lord Bruce, elder brother of James, died, unmarried, and the latter became heir-apparent to the family honours. On the 22nd of April, 1841, he married Elizabeth Mary, daughter of Mr. C. L. Canning Bruce. The death of his father soon afterwards raised him to the Scottish peerage. He had no seat in either House of Parliament, and in 1842 he accepted from Lord Stanley the office of Governor of Jamaica—an appointment which decided his vocation in life. With his career at Jamaica we have no special concern, and it need not detain us. It may be remarked, in passing, that he remained there four years, during which period—owing, doubtless, in some measure to the sudden death of his wife soon after their arrival in the island—he led a somewhat secluded life. He quitted his post in 1846, and returned to England. Almost immediately after his arrival there Lord Grey, the Colonial Secretary, offered him the position of Governor-General of British North America. He accepted it, says his biographer, not in the mere spirit of selfish ambition, but with a deep sense of the responsibility attached to it. It was arranged that he should go to Canada at the beginning of the new year. In the interval, on November 7th, he married Lady Mary Louisa Lambton, daughter of the first Earl of Durham, whose five months' sojourn in this country in the year 1838 was destined to produce such important and beneficial effects upon our Constitution. Lord Elgin was wont to say that "The real and effectual vindication of Lord Durham's memory and proceedings will be the success of a Governor-General of Canada who works out his views of government fairly." Thus it happened that the young Conservative Peer, who had already shaken off his early Tory prepossessions, found himself called upon to build on the broad foundations laid by the most advanced member of the Liberal party of that day, and to inaugurate the new principle of government which Lord Durham and Charles Butler had conceived, not merely in Canada, but throughout the colonial empire of Britain. Leaving his bride behind him, to follow at a less inclement season, he set out for the seat of his new duties early in January, and reached Montreal on the 29th. He took up his quarters at Monklands, the suburban residence of the Governor.

Nine years had elapsed since the Rebellion of 1837, Lord Durham, Lord Sydenham, Sir Charles Bagot, Lord Metcalfe, and Lord Cathcart had successively governed the North American Provinces in that short interval, but—except in the case of Lord Durham—with not very satisfactory results. The method of Responsible Government was new with us. The smouldering fires of rebellion were only just extinguished. The repulsion of races was at its strongest. The deposed clique which had virtually ruled the colony was still furious, and the depressed section was suspicious and restive. It was just at the time, too, when, between English and American legislation, we were suffering at once from the evils of protection and free trade. The principles upon which Lord Elgin undertook to carry on the administration of the affairs of the colony were that he should identify himself with no party, but make himself a mediator and moderator between the influential of all parties; that he should retain no Ministers who did not enjoy the confidence of the Assembly, or, in the last resort, of the people; and that he should not refuse his consent to any measure proposed by his Ministry, unless it should be of an extreme party character, such as the Assembly or the people would be sure to disapprove of. For some months after his arrival in this country matters went smoothly enough. The Draper Administration, never very strong, had for several years been growing gradually weaker and weaker, and was now tottering towards its fall; but so far it could command a small majority of votes, and continued to hold the reins of power. The result of the next general elections, however, which were held at the close of the year, was the return of a large preponderance of Reformers, among whom were nearly all the leading spirits of the Reform Party. Upon the opening of Parliament on the 25th of February, 1848, the Draper Administration resigned, and its leader accepted a seat on the judicial bench. The Governor accordingly summoned the leaders of the opposition to his councils, and the Baldwin-Lafontaine ministry was formed. After a short session the House was prorogued on the 25th March. It did not meet again until the 18th of January following. It is hardly necessary to inform the Canadian reader that the Canadian Parliament sat at Montreal at that time. During the session one of the stormiest episodes in our history occurred. Every Canadian who has passed middle age remembers that disturbed time. The excitement arose out of the Rebellion Losses Bill, as it was called—a measure introduced by Mr. Lafontaine, the object of which was to reimburse such of the inhabitants of the Lower Province as had sustained loss from the rebellion of eleven years before. Within a very short time after the close of that rebellion, the attention of both sections of the colony was directed to compensating those who had suffered by it. First came the case of the primary sufferers, if so they may be called; that is, the Loyalists, whose property had been destroyed by rebels. Measures were at once taken to indemnify all such persons—in Upper Canada, by an Act passed in the last session of its separate Parliament; in Lower Canada, by an ordinance of the Special Council, under which it was at that time administered. But it was felt that this was not enough; that where property had been wantonly and unnecessarily destroyed, even though it were by persons acting in support of authority, some compensation ought to be given; and the Upper Canada Act above mentioned was amended next year, in the first session of the United Parliament, so as to extend to all losses occasioned by violence on the part of persons acting or assuming to act on Her Majesty's behalf. Nothing was done at this time about Lower Canada; but it was obviously inevitable that the treatment applied to the one Province should be extended to the other. Accordingly, in 1845, during Lord Metcalfe's Government, and under a Conservative Administration, an Address was adopted unanimously by the Assembly, praying His Excellency to cause proper measures to be taken "in order to insure to the inhabitants of that portion of the Province formerly Lower Canada indemnity for just losses by them sustained during the Rebellion of 1837 and 1838." In pursuance of this address, a Commission was appointed to inquire into the claims of persons whose property had been destroyed in the Rebellion; the Commissioners receiving instructions to distinguish the cases of persons who had abetted the said rebellion from the cases of those who had not. The Commissioners made their investigations, and reported that they had recognized, as worthy of further inquiry, claims representing a sum total of L241,965 10s. 5d.; but they added an expression of opinion that the losses suffered would be found, on closer examination, not to exceed the value of L100,000. This report was rendered in April, 1846; but though Lord Metcalfe's Ministry, which had issued the Commission avowedly as preliminary to a subsequent and more minute inquiry, remained in office for nearly two years longer, they took no steps towards carrying out their declared intentions. So the matter stood when the Baldwin-Lafontaine Administration was formed. It was natural that they should take up the work left half done by their predecessors; and early in the session of 1849 Mr. Lafontaine introduced the Rebellion Losses Bill. The Opposition contrived to kindle a flame all over the country. Meetings were held denouncing the measure, and petitions were presented to the Governor with the obvious design of producing a collision between him and Parliament. The Bill was finally passed in the Assembly by forty-seven votes to eighteen. Out of thirty-one members from Upper Canada who voted on the occasion, seventeen supported and fourteen opposed it; and of ten members for Lower Canada of British descent, six supported and four opposed it. "These facts," (wrote Lord Elgin) "seemed altogether irreconcilable with the allegation that the question was one on which the two races were arrayed against each other throughout the Province generally. I considered, therefore, that by reserving the Bill, I should only cast on Her Majesty and Her Majesty's advisers a responsibility which ought, in the first instance at least, to rest on my own shoulders, and that I should awaken in the minds of the people at large, even of those who were indifferent or hostile to the Bill, doubts as to the sincerity with which it was intended that constitutional Government should be carried on in Canada; doubts which it is my firm conviction, if they were to obtain generally, would be fatal to the connection."

On the 25th of April Lord Elgin went down to the Parliament Buildings and gave his assent to the Bill. On leaving the House he was insulted by the crowd, who pelted him with missiles. In the evening a disorderly mob intent upon mischief got together and set fire to the Parliament Buildings, which were burned to the ground. By this wanton act public property of considerable value, including two excellent libraries, was utterly destroyed. Having achieved their object the crowd dispersed, apparently satisfied with what they had done. The members were permitted to retire unmolested, and no resistance was offered to the military, who appeared on the ground after a brief interval to restore order, and aid in extinguishing the flames. During the two following days a good deal of excitement prevailed in the streets, and some further acts of incendiarism were perpetrated. Similar scenes on a somewhat smaller scale, were enacted in Toronto and elsewhere in the Upper Province. The house of Mr. Baldwin and some other prominent members of the Reform party were attacked, and the owners burned in effigy.

Meanwhile addresses numerously signed came pouring in to the Governor from all quarters, expressing entire confidence in the Administration, and unbounded regret for the indignities to which he had been subjected. Lord Elgin, however, felt bound to tender his resignation to the Home Government. Meanwhile the Bill which had caused such an explosion in the colony, was running the gauntlet of the British Parliament. On June 14th it was vehemently attacked in the House of Commons. Mr. Gladstone himself describing it as a "measure for rewarding rebels." The strongest pressure had already been put upon Lord Elgin to induce him to refuse the Royal Assent to the Bill. To do so would have been to place himself in direct collision with his Parliament, and this he steadily refused to do. The Home Government, represented by Lord Grey, firmly supported him, approved his policy, and shortly afterwards conferred upon him a British peerage as an acknowledgment of the unshaken confidence of the Queen. Being urgently pressed to remain in office as Governor-General he consented, and the more readily because the agitation soon quieted down. From this time we hear no more of such disgraceful scenes, but it was long before the old "Family Compact" party forgave the Governor who had dared to be impartial. By many kinds of detraction they sought to weaken his influence and damage his popularity. And as the members of this party, though they had lost their monopoly of political power, still remained the dominant class in society, the disparaging tone which they set was taken up not only in the colony itself, but also by travellers who visited it, and by them carried back to infect opinion in England. The result was that persons at home, who had the highest appreciation of Lord Elgin's capacity as a statesman, sincerely believed him to be deficient in nerve and vigour; and as the misapprehension was one which he could not have corrected, even if he had been aware how widely it was spread, it continued to exist in many quarters until dispelled by the singular energy and boldness, amounting almost to rashness, which he displayed in China.

Since the session of 1849 no Parliament has ever sat, nor is any ever again likely to sit, at Montreal. In view of the riot and the burning of the Parliament Buildings it was determined to remove the Legislature, which met at Toronto for the next two years. Subsequently it met alternately at Quebec and Toronto until 1866, since which time Ottawa has been the permanent capital of the Dominion.

After the storm consequent on the Rebellion Losses Bill, the most important event by which Lord Elgin's Canadian administration was characterized was the negotiation of the Reciprocity Treaty with the United States. The conclusion of this Treaty was a matter requiring much time and a good deal of prudent negotiation. In 1854, after the negotiations had dragged on wearily for more than six years, Lord Elgin himself was sent to Washington, in the hope of bringing the matter to a successful issue. Within a few weeks the terms of a Treaty of Reciprocity were agreed upon, and they soon afterwards received the sanction of the Governments concerned. Lord Elgin returned to England at the close of 1854, being succeeded in the government of Canada by Sir Edmund Walker Head, who had examined him for a Merton Fellowship at Oxford in 1833. Soon after Lord Elgin's return home, the Chancellorship of the Duchy of Lancaster was offered him by Lord Palmerston, with a seat in the Cabinet; but he preferred to take no active part in public affairs, and enjoyed an interval of two years' rest from official labour. His subsequent career can only be glanced at very briefly. In 1857 he was sent to China to try what could be done to repair, or to turn to the best account, the mischiefs done by Sir John Bowring's course, and by the patronage of it at home, in the face of the moral reprobation of the people at large. He was present at the taking of Canton, and in conjunction with the French, succeeded by prompt and vigorous measures in reducing the Celestial Empire to terms. After signing a Treaty with the Chinese Commissioners at Tientsin, on the 26th of July, 1858, the conditions of which were highly favourable to the British, he sailed for Japan, and boldly entered the harbour of Jeddo, from which foreigners had always been rigidly excluded. Here he obtained very important commercial privileges for the British, and on the 26th of August concluded a treaty with the Japanese. He returned to England in May, 1859. The merchants of London, in recognition of his immense services to British commerce, did themselves honour by the thoroughness of their acknowledgment of Lord Elgin's services, and presented him with the freedom of the City.

He held the office of Postmaster-General till the hostile acts of the Chinese Government towards the English and French Ministers in China rendered it necessary that he should go out again, and opening Pekin to British diplomacy, returned to England in April, 1861. Almost immediately afterwards he was offered the Viceroyalty of India. This splendid appointment he was not disposed to decline. He accepted, and went out to the seat of his Government He lived only eighteen months longer, a period, says his biographer, hardly sufficient for him to master the details of administration of that great Empire, with which he had no previous acquaintance, and I quite insufficient for him to give to the policy of the Government the stamp of his own mind. He died of heart-disease; while making a vice-regal excursion through his dominions, on the 20th of November, 1863, and was buried in the cemetery at Dhurmsala, in a spot selected by Lady Elgin.

"Perhaps," says a sympathetic critic of Lord Elgin's career, "the noblest part of the history of England is to be found in the recorded lives of those who have been her chosen servants, and who have died in that service. Self-control, endurance, and an heroic sense of duty, are more conspicuous in such men than the love of action and fame. But their lives are the landmarks of our race. Lord Elgin, it is true, can hardly be ranked with the first of British statesmen, or orators, or commanders. His services, great as they unquestionably were, had all been performed under the orders of other men. Even among his own contemporaries he fills a place in the second rank. But happy are the country and the age in which such men are to be found in the second rank, and are content to be there."



MAJOR-GENERAL JAMES WOLFE.



"Tis in the prime of summer-time, an evening calm and cool, When certain bright-eyed English boys come bounding out of school."

The school is at Greenwich, six miles below London Bridge, and is kept by the Reverend Samuel Swinden. Date, some time in the month of June, 1741. The boys are of all ages, from five years upwards, and most of them are sons of military and naval officers resident in the neighbourhood. One of them, a sturdy little urchin of seven years, is a son of the Treasurer of the great Marine Hospital down by the river's bank. He is destined by his father for the legal profession, but has already begun to shew his contempt for the law by breaking His Majesty's peace several times in the course of every week. He has been at school only a few months, and hitherto he has not displayed much aptitude for his lessons; but he has distinguished himself in numberless hand-to-hand engagements with his fellow-scholars, and has gained the reputation of being, for a youngster of his inches, tremendously heavy about the fist. On this particular evening the school has been dismissed barely five minutes before the pugnacious little rascal contrives to get into an altercation with a lad several years his senior. As to the precise nature, of the casus belli, history and tradition are alike silent. The pair adjourn to a secluded part of the playground to settle their differences a la Dogginson, "by fighting it out with their fistes." The other boys follow as a matter of course, to see fair play. It is to be regretted that history has not furnished sufficient data to enable us to describe the passage of arms very minutely. Suffice it is to say that after a few rounds have been fought, it becomes apparent to all the spectators that Master Jackey Jervis has at last found his match. His opponent, a great hulking fellow without any forehead, who has arms like sledge-hammers, and who has hitherto found it impossible to learn the multiplication table, takes all Master Jackey's blows with seeming nonchalance, and ever and anon puts in a tremendous rejoinder which stretches the Treasurer's son upon the sward. When the contest has gone on after this fashion for some time the seconds propose that, as there has been a sufficient effusion of blood to vindicate the courage of both the combatants, there may well be a cessation of hostilities. The big fellow stolidly remarks that it is all one to him; but Master Jackey spurns the proposal with lofty contempt. The contest is renewed; another round is fought, and the lighter weight once more bites the grass. Before he can arise to resume the fray, the company receives an accession in the person of a tall, slabsided, awkwardly-made youth, who impetuously elbows the others aside, and makes his way to the centre of the fistic arena. The new-comer is somewhat older than any of the other boys, and is apparently verging towards manhood. His appearance is somewhat peculiar. The most partial admirer could hardly pronounce him handsome. Apart from his ungainly build, he has fiery red hair, high, prominent cheek bones, a receding forehead, and a proboscis of the kind which the French call a nose in the air. There is a set, decisive expression about his mouth which betokens an indomitable will; and a flash in his sparkling blue eyes bears witness that he has an ominous temper of his own. But, though his personal appearance is by no means that of an Adonis, the brightness of his complexion and a certain bold frankness of facial expression preserves him from absolute ugliness. Those who know him, moreover, are aware that he possesses qualities which more than redeem his plainness of feature. Though by no means of a robust constitution, he is endowed with unflinching courage. He has a high sense of honour, and is the repository of the secrets of nearly every boy in the school. He is a diligent student, and though somewhat vain of his superior knowledge, is ever ready to assist those of his fellow-pupils who are anxious to learn. Add to all this that he is the senior boy of the school; that, though a stern disciplinarian, he is generous, impartial, and a protector of the weak; and it will readily be understood that he is popular both with master and scholars. Unnecessary to say that there is no more fighting, for the senior boy has forbidden it, and he is not one who tolerates any opposition to his authority. Two minutes suffice to quell the disturbance; and the belligerents shake hands and march off to their respective homes. Little Jackey, however, has been rather severely handled in the encounter, and does not put in an appearance for several days, when the preceptor reads him a lecture before the whole school on the ill effects resulting from little boys permitting their angry passions to rise.

It is to be presumed that the lecture was not taken very seriously to heart, for Master Jervis, during the following seventy years, was many times conspicuous for little ebullitions of temper. He never took kindly to his father's scheme to make a lawyer of him. About three years subsequent to the event just recorded he ran away to sea, and began that glorious maritime career, the details of which form an important chapter in the history of England. For Master Jackey Jervis lived to take part in more deadly encounters than the one in the play-ground at Greenwich, and to take high rank among the naval heroes of Great Britain. After valiantly fighting the battles of his country in both hemispheres, and rising to the rank of Admiral, he achieved that signal victory over the Spanish fleet which procured for him the Earldom of St. Vincent. Nor is the low-browed lad who was his opponent altogether unknown to fame. His name was Thomas Brett, and he lived to do good service in various capacities under Nelson and Collingwood. But the fame of the senior boy—the florid-complexioned youth with the aspiring nose—is more dear to Canadians of British blood than is that of either of his schoolfellows; for his name was James Wolfe.

His career was short, and was compressed within a space of less than thirty-four years. It terminated in the moment of victory on the Plains of Abraham. But, brief as was his earthly span, few lives of any length have accomplished so much; and his death was so glorious that it should scarcely have been regretted, even by his nearest and dearest, what he did is known to us. What he might have done if his life had been spared, can only be conjectured; but he possessed all the qualifications of a great military commander, and needed but time and opportunity for their development. Of these, so long as they were vouchsafed to him, no man knew better how to take advantage; and it is not extravagant to believe that had he lived to the age of Marlborough or Wellington, he would have won a place in history not less distinguished than theirs.

He was born at the Vicarage, in the little village of Westerham, Kent, on the 2nd of January, 1726. [Footnote: Authorities are all but unanimous in placing this date a year later—i.e., on the 2nd of January, 1727. Even the standard biography of Wolfe (Wright's) repeats the error. That it is an error becomes apparent when we learn that he was baptized at twenty days old, and that the parish register shows this ceremony to have taken place on the 11th of January, 1726—the latter date being Old Style, equivalent to January 22nd, New Style. The correct date is further confirmed by the entry in the register of the baptism of his brother, Edward, who was about a year younger, and who was baptized of the 10th of January, 1727.] His father, Colonel Edward Wolfe, was an officer in the English army, who subsequently rose to the rank of Lieutenant-General. His mother was Henrietta, daughter of Edward Thompson, of Marsden, Yorkshire. James was their first-born, and was the only member of the family destined to attain high distinction. The only other offspring of the marriage was a younger son, Edward, who was born about a year after the birth of James, and who did not live to reach manhood. Edward entered the army while still a mere lad, and fought in the battle of Dettingen, on the 16th of June, 1743. He died on October of the following year, of consumption, accellerated by the hardships incidental to a campaigning life.

But little is known of the childhood of the two brothers. Both of them seem to have been of rather frail constitutions, and the precarious state of their health is said to have caused their parents much anxiety. As they grew up to youth they appear to have become somewhat more healthful, though still far from robust. Their earliest scholastic attainments were received at the hands of a Mr. Lawrence, who kept a small school in their native village. Their father was almost always on active service with his regiment, and the boys saw very little of him. About 1737 the family removed from Westerham to Greenwich, where the children at once began to attend Mr. Swinden's School. The episode described in the opening paragraph is about the only anecdote which has been preserved of their connection with that institution, and for it we are indebted, not to any life of Wolfe, but to an old history of Greenwich. Early in November, 1741, within five months after the happening of the incident above described, Master James received his first commission, appointing him Second Lieutenant in his father's regiment of Marines; but there is no trace of his ever having served under it. He shortly afterwards exchanged into the Line, and his first active service was in the capacity of Ensign of the Twelfth, or Colonel Duroure's Regiment of Foot. The exchange took place early in 1742, and in April of that year he embarked with his regiment for Flanders. The first of his letters which have been preserved, is written to his mother from Ghent, and is dated August 27th, 1742. His brother Edward followed him to the Continent during the same year, and died, as we have seen, in October, 1744. James's aptitude for the military profession soon became apparent to his superior officers, and shortly after the completion of his seventeenth year we find him filling the important pest of Adjutant. He, as well as his brother, took part in the battle of Dettingen, on the 16th of June, and though they were placed in the middle of the first line, they both escaped without a scar. A few days afterwards James, in consequence of the talent for command which he had already displayed, was promoted to a lieutenancy and on the 3rd of June, 1744, he received a captain's commission in the Fourth, or King's Regiment of Foot, commanded by Lieutenant-General Barrell. His life for some months thereafter was one of uninterrupted campaigning, but it contains no incident necessary to be remarked upon. Nest year, Great Britain was compelled to withdraw her forces from Flander's in order to suppress the Jacobite rebellion in Scotland, known as the "Rising of the Forty-five." Early in June, Wolfe was commissioned a Brigade-Major, and almost immediately afterwards he returned to England. He was at once despatched northward to Newcastle, and fought at Falkirk and Culloden, in both of which engagements his regiments suffered severely, though he himself escaped unwounded.

The Anti-Jacobin Review for 1802 contains an anecdote which, though probably apocryphal, may as well be inserted here. It is said that when Wolfe was riding over the field of Culloden with the Duke of Cumberland they observed a Highlander, who, although severely wounded, was able to sit up, and who, leaning on his arm, seemed to smile defiance upon them. "Wolfe," said the Duke, "shoot me that Highland scoundrel, who thus dares to look on us with such insolence." To which Wolfe replied: "My commission is at your Royal Highness' disposal, but I can never consent to become an executioner." From this day forward, it is said, Wolfe visibly declined in the favour of the Commander-in-Chief. It is manifestly impossible to disprove such a story as this; but it is an undoubted fact that Wolfe did not decline in the Duke's favour after the battle of Culloden, and as no authorities are cited in support of the anecdote, it is not unreasonable to infer that the whole is fictitious. For some months after the "dark day of Culloden," Wolfe remained in the Highlands, but we have no information as to how he spent his time there. He passed a part of the following winter in London, where he took up his quarters with his parents, who then lived in their town house in Old Burlington-street. During his stay in the metropolis at this time he must frequently have passed through Temple Bar. If so, he doubtless had the grim satisfaction of seeing the heads of some of his former opponents, the Highland rebels, grinning at passers-by from the spikes over the gateway.

In January, 1747, he again set out for the Continent with the British reinforcements for the Netherlands. At the battle of Laffeldt, fought on the 2nd July, he received a slight wound, and was publicly thanked by the Commander-in-Chief for his distinguished services. We do not find that he took part in any other active engagement at this time, and we hear no more of his wound. We next find him in London, where he seems to have spent the greater part of the winter of 1747-8. The treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle was signed soon after, whereby peace was restored to Europe.

About this time Wolfe had his first experience of the tender passion, the object being a Miss Lawson, one of the maids of honour to the Princess of Wales. His suit, however, was disapproved of by his parents, and does not appear to have been particularly acceptable to the young lady herself, for, after a good deal of delay, she rejected his offer of his hand. She died unmarried in March, 1759—the same year which witnessed the death of her former admirer. Wolfe was not precisely the kind of material of which despairing lovers are made, and beyond a few expressions of regret, he does not seem to have taken the rejection very deeply to heart. On the 5th of January, 1749, he was gazetted as Major of the 20th Regiment, stationed in Scotland, whither he repaired soon after. His promotion to a Lieutenant-Colonelcy in the same regiment followed fifteen months later, and the next three years were for the most part spent with his regiment in the Highlands, which were gradually recovering from the effects of the rebellion. Then came a journey to Paris, where he remained several months, and where he was presented to the King, Louis XV., and to Madame de Pompadour. The following two or three years of his life were not marked by any incident of special importance.

In 1757, in consequence of the recommencement of hostilities with France, British forces, under Sir John Mordaunt, were despatched to attack Rochfort, and Wolfe accompanied the expedition as Quartermaster-General. This expedition was destined to exercise an important influence upon his future career. He had hitherto been known simply as a brave and efficient officer, but it was not commonly supposed, even by his intimate friends, that he was endowed with an original military genius of high order. The time had arrived when the world was to form a more accurate estimate of him. Sir John Mordaunt, who was placed in command of the land forces for the Rochfort expedition, was totally unfit for so responsible a post. Sir Edward Hawke, who commanded the fleet, did good service both before and after that time; but this expedition was one for which he does not appear to have been suited. The incapacity of both the commanders soon began to be painfully apparent; and Wolfe, a soldier by nature as well as by training, determined to show them how the siege of Rochfort should be conducted. While they were wasting time in laying and abandoning immature plans, and in suggesting this, that and the other impracticable schemes, he, with Sir John's sanction, quietly landed on the island at one o'clock in the morning, and made his observations. He saw a small post on the promontory of Fouras, which it was evident must be taken before Rochfort could be besieged with success. He further noted the most favourable point for landing the troops. Having matured his scheme, he returned and made his report to Sir John and Sir Edward, and urgently recommended that his suggestions be acted upon. Sir Edward approved of the plan, but Sir John thought proper to call a Council of war, which, after a long session, decided that such an attempt was neither advisable nor practicable. The lucky moment was lost, and the expedition returned to England without having accomplished anything. The English people had confidently counted on the success of the expedition, and were proportionately dissapointed. A committee of inquiry was summoned, and Sir John Mordaunt was tried by court-martial. He was acquitted; but Pitt, who was at the head of the Government, after carefully mastering the evidence given by Wolfe, came to the conclusion that the Quartermaster was an extraordinary young man, and that if his advice had been followed there would have been a very different result from the expedition. The youth who had the intrepidity to take the initiatory observations, and who had had the military skill to concoct the plan of attack, was evidently a person whose services it might be worth while to turn to account. At no period in the history of England had there been a greater scarcity of capable military leaders, and not often had capable leaders been more urgently needed. This young Wolfe was evidently an original military genius, and must be pushed forward. He was immediately promoted to the rank of Colonel, and was soon to receive still higher promotion.

The incompetency of the superior officers in the British army had of late become painfully manifest on both sides of the Atlantic. The American campaign of 1757 was even more disastrous than were British operations in Europe. Lord Loudoun, who had been despatched to America in the preceding year, to direct the campaign against the French, had accomplished nothing, and the enemy, under Montcalm, were uniformly successful in their operations. In August occurred the terrible massacre at Fort William Henry. Other massacres followed, and the colonists were literally panic-stricken. The border settlements were laid waste, the houses and property of the inhabitants destroyed, and the colonists themselves scalped and murdered by the French and their Indian allies. French spies gained early intelligence of every movement contemplated by the British, and were thus, in many cases, the means of rendering those movements abortive. The grand British scheme of the year, however, was the reduction of Louisburg, in furtherance of which an armament such had never before been collected in the British Colonies, assembled at Halifax. This armament consisted of about 12,000 troops, 19 vessels of war, and a considerable number of smaller craft. The troops were embarked early in August with the ostensible object of capturing Louisburg; but Lord Loudoun, learning that the French anticipated the attack, and were prepared to oppose it, abandoned the idea. He landed a part of the forces on the coast of Nova Scotia, and returned with the rest to New York. A fleet specially sent out from Great Britain, under the command of Admiral Holborne, sailed for Cape Breton about the same time; but the sight of the French ships in Louisburg harbour proved too much for the Admiral's nerves, and he steered for Halifax. Here he was reinforced by four men-of-war, and the fleet again set sail for Louisburg. The French fleet remained under the shelter of the batteries in the harbour; and would not be coaxed out. Holborne cruised about the coast until late in the autumn, when his fleet was dispersed and almost destroyed by a succession of violent storms. Considering that, under the circumstances, he had done enough for his country for that time, he returned to England with the shattered remains of his fleet.

Such was the position of affairs at the close of the year 1757. Public indignation was aroused by the incompetency and supineness of the military and naval commanders, and it became apparent either that more efficient leaders most be found or that all operations in America must be abandoned. The new Ministry, with Pitt at its head, proved equal to the occasion. Lord Loudoun was recalled and General Abercromby appointed in his stead. The Great Commoner formed his plans for next year's campaign, which included the reduction of Fort Duquesne, Louisburg, Ticonderoga, and Crown Point. The expedition against Louisburg required a conjoint naval and military armament. The naval command was assigned to Admiral Boscawen, and the military forces to Colonel Amherst, who was advanced to the rank of Major-General. With the latter was associated Wolfe, Whitmore, and Lawrence, as Brigade-Generals. Operations against Crown Point and Ticonderoga were entrusted to General Abercromby and Lord Howe. Those against Fort Duquesne were conducted by General Forbes. The expedition against Fort Duquesne was completely successful, but Abercromby proved himself as inefficient as his predecessor in office, Lord Loudoun. Howe, who was a thoroughly capable officer, was killed at Ticonderoga on the 6th of July, before his powers could be brought into play. The expedition under Abercromby proved an utter failure. Not so the expedition against Louisburg, the capture of which was the most important event of the year. Being regarded as the key to the St. Lawrence, it was a strongly fortified place. A fortress had been erected there at a cost of 30,000,000 livres. The garrison was defended by the Chevalier de Drucourt, with 3,100 troops and about 700 Indians; while two frigates and six line-of-battle ships guarded the harbour, the entrance to which was blocked by three sunken frigates. Boscawen's fleet crossed the Atlantic, and in due course laid siege to Louisburg. Wolfe led the left division of attack, which may be said to have borne the brunt of the entire siege. A landing was effected on the 8th of June, and during the following seven weeks the operations were almost entirely conducted by Wolfe, to whose skill and judgment their success is mainly to be attributed. The garrison surrendered on the 26th of July, and together with sailors and marines, amounting collectively to 5,637 men, were carried to England as prisoners of war. 15,000 stand of arms and a great quantity of military stores became the property of the victors; and a glorious array of captured colours were sent to England, where they were carried in solemn procession through the principal thoroughfares, and finally placed in St. Paul's Cathedral. The town of Louisburg was reduced to a heap of ruins. The inhabitants were sent to France in English ships, and the fortifications were soon after demolished. A few fishermen's huts are all the dwellings to be found on the site at the present day.