– in a brand new building that would become the post office when the capital had moved. It stood on a commanding eminence near the Prescott Gate, looking down the great sweep of the ice-bound St. Lawrence; a plain but ample structure with a front of the best white brick, its more humble red-brick rear plastered over to match.40
Inside, the Assembly chamber was shorter but broader than that in Toronto.41 It was embellished with portraits of past speakers, hung on the front of narrow galleries that ran around three sides. The one hundred and thirty members arrayed below – sixty-five from each section – were seated much as in Toronto. Premier Cartier, galvanically active, and his Minister of Finance, portly Alexander Galt, shared a desk in the front rank on the government side; the mass of Cartier’s Bleu supporters from Lower Canada ranged behind them. As leader of the Upper Canadian half of the cabinet, John A. Macdonald also had a desk in the front row. Here was the master-politician, still Brown’s greatest foe – easy, smiling, and adroit, and as deadly effective as ever.
On the opposite side of the House, Brown and Dorion also shared a front-row desk, as the opposition leaders of West and East. Foley and McDougall were in the same line, Mowat behind Brown and Dorion, McGee and Sandfield Macdonald somewhat more removed. The opposition forces comprised some forty-nine members: thirty-four of them Upper Canada Reformers, ten Rouges, and the remainder, more independent Liberals from Lower Canada. The ministerial side numbered about seventy-five: thirty-three being French-Canadian Bleus; sixteen, English-speaking Lower Canadians; twenty-three, John A. Macdonald’s Conservatives from Upper Canada; and the rest, the few western Coalition Liberals remaining with the government.42 It was hard to define the fringes remaining on either side, however. In those days of weaker party discipline there were usually quite a number of uncertain votes, as the independent or converted, or the merely disappointed, shifted back and forth. Hence Macdonald’s manoeuvring and managing abilities were at such a premium; and hence George Brown might hope to gain significant additions in a well-staged vote on federation.
The opening ceremonies went off smoothly on February 28. The day was wonderfully warm and sunny, and melting waters gushed down the steep and narrow roadways of Quebec.43 The Speech from the Throne, read by Governor-General Sir Edmund Head, held no surprises. The forthcoming visit of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales was officially announced for the summer. The rest was serene platitude, with no mention of the general British North American union that the government had once proposed. The House trooped back into its own chamber, fussily marshalled into place by the Speaker, Henry Smith, a perfect zealot for dress and drill who performed at the opening in lace ruffles at neck and wrist – and had ordered a fullbottomed wig from England.44 Then, as soon as they were settled, Brown rose to give a formal notice of motion. On the earliest day possible, he announced briskly, he would move two resolutions, the first and fifth adopted at the recent Reform Convention in Toronto, declaring that the existing legislative union of the Canadas had failed, and demanding federation under a joint authority in its stead.45 There was a burst of scornful laughter from the ministerial benches, but it rapidly died out. The House adjourned soon afterwards, full of conjecture as to the outcome of Brown’s swift move.
The next morning, the first western Reform caucus of the session met behind closed doors.46 Immediately there was trouble. Some of the moderate members expressed doubts as to the wisdom of moving the Convention resolutions in parliament directly. It was all very well, they contended, to adopt the Convention platform as a unifying statement of aims and ideals; but to press it in the existing House would be to cut off Upper Canada Reform from those who were disgusted with the present administration but not yet ready to transform the union. Far better to warn that if misgovernment did not cease the Convention plan would be insisted on. Then there would be room to compromise with potential allies and, above all, to gain more Lower Canadian support.47
But those who held with Brown believed that the very purpose of the party was to transform the union, that misgovernment was inherent in its nature, and that further warnings were quite meaningless. Better, indeed, to push to the issue at once, and, if the first try failed, to push again – rather than postpone a test that the electorate expected, and fritter away reputation and support in chasing useless superficial compromises.48 It was the age-old political debate between compelling principle and temporizing opportunism; or between self-defeating inflexibility and wise adjustment to realities, depending on the side one argued for.
Brown had expected trouble. There were already rumours abroad of reluctance and backsliding in some Reform circles, even as parliament assembled.49 For that very reason, and to commit the party definitely, he had immediately given notice of his motion.50 It was a bold move, and an imperious one. It brought an excited protest in the caucus (from those disposed in any case to hang back) that he had acted without authorization. Brown’s reply was wholly typical. Though admitting the general need for consultation, he was forthright, single-minded – and again imperious. “In this particular case,” he said emphatically, “there is no room for parley or modification – and whatever may be the result, these resolutions must be moved”51
He could also note that he was the party’s chosen leader; that the caucus had unanimously confirmed him in authority at the end of the preceding session, when he had offered to step down for any more desirable candidate;52 that the fullest possible party meeting had adopted the resolutions; and that, further, the party’s new official organization, the Constitutional Reform Association, had embodied them in its Address with the promise that they would be introduced in parliament. What more authorization could one possibly want? Why not act on the patently obvious?
All this was true. Unfortunately it was just as true that the Reform party organization in Upper Canada could not direct the parliamentary caucus at Quebec. The underlying rifts were there still; and Brown had not succeeded, as he had hoped, in vaulting over them in one quick leap. Furthermore, the political skills he unquestionably displayed in shaping public opinion or managing huge popular meetings did not include the restraint, finesse, and shrewd understanding of differing viewpoints that were so necessary in this affair. He could deal far better with a roaring audience of a thousand than a roomful of restless politicians. Still, for the time being the trouble was allayed. The question of authorization was let drop with Brown’s acknowledgement of its general necessity. And the resolutions were not introduced on March 5 as had been announced, on the ground that a number of the western members still had not reached Quebec.53 One, John Sheridan Hogan, never did arrive. Months later his body was found in the Don River near Toronto: he had been killed in a highway robbery.54
In any case, nothing had been settled. Brown and many with him were unshaken in their determination to bring in the constitutional resolutions. A week or two of March passed by, while parliamentary business went forward uneventfully, and the Reform opposition strove earnestly to keep its internal problems under control. Meanwhile, however, the ministerial press had picked up the scent. The Toronto Leader, chief government organ in the West, gleefully reported “a terrible row” in the Grit caucus over the resolutions and Brown’s leadership. Nothing had been heard since of his motion. “Why the delay?” it asked sweetly.55 Furthermore, two prominent western Reform journals, the Hamilton Times and London Free Press, which the year before had questioned Brown’s suitability as leader, returned to their refrain.56 The old “moderate” charges, in fact, were being raised again: that Brown was too extreme to head the party, that Lower Canadians would not work with him, and hence that he was keeping Liberalism out of office.
At the other, the radical, end of the scale, dissolutionists were capturing local party meetings in the western peninsula – since they found Brown’s federation policy too tame, too much concerned with maintaining ties with Lower Canada!57 That primeval Clear Grit, Charles Clarke, was writing vigorous new Reformator letters to the press.58 His friend George Sheppard confidently informed him, “The ‘joint authority’ commands no respect anywhere.”59 Sheppard could perceive a dissolutionist reaction rising,
