AFTER the burning of
the parliament buildings in Montreal the seat of government oscillated
between Quebec and Toronto. Toronto’s turn came in the session of 1856.
Macdonald was now the virtual, and was on the point of becoming the
titular, leader of the party. Brown was equally conspicuous on the other
side. During the debate on the address he was the central figure in a
fierce struggle, and some one with a turn for statistics said that his
name was mentioned three hundred and seventy-two times. The air was
stimulating, and Brown’s contribution to the debate was not of a
character to turn away wrath
Smarting under Brown’s
attack, Macdonald suddenly gave a new turn to the debate. He charged
that Brown, while acting as a member and secretary of a commission
appointed by the Lafontaine-Baldwin government to inquire into the
condition of the provincial penitentiary, had falsified testimony,
suborned convicts to commit perjury, and obtained the pardon of
murderers to induce them to give false evidence Though the assembly had
by this time become accustomed to hard hitting, this outbreak created a
sensation. Brown gave an indignant denial to the charges, and announced
that he would move for a committee of inquiry. He was angrily
interrupted by the solicitor-general, who flung the lie across the
House. The solicitor-general was a son of the warden of the penitentiary
who had been dismissed in consequence of the report of the commission.
Macdonald was a strong personal friend of the warden, and had attempted
some years before to bring his case before the assembly. Brown promptly
moved for the committee, and it was not long before he presented that
tribunal with a dramatic surprise. It was supposed that the report of
the penitentiary' committee had been burned, and the attack on Brown was
made upon that supposition. When Mr. Brown was called as a witness,
however, he produced the original report with all the evidence, and
declared that it had never been out of his possession “for one hour.”
The effect of this disclosure on his assailants is shown in a letter
addressed to the committee by VanKoughnet, Macdonald’s counsel: “Mr.
Macdonald,” he said, “had been getting up his case on the assumption and
belief that these minutes had been destroyed and could not be procured,
and much of the labour he had been allowed to go to by Mr. Brown for
that purpose would now be thrown away; the whole manner of giving
evidence, etc., would now be altered.”
The graver charges of
subornation of perjury etc., were abandoned, and Macdonald’s friends
confined themselves to an attempt to prove that the inquiry had been
unfairly conducted, that the warden had been harshly treated, and the
testimony not fairly reported. It was a political committee with a
Conservative majority, and the majority, giving up all hope of injuring
Brown, bent its energies to saving Macdonald from the consequences of
his reckless violence. The Liberal members asked for a complete
exoneration of Mr. Brown. A supporter of the government was willing to
exonerate Brown if Macdonald were allowed to escape without censure. A
majority of the committee, however, took refuge in a rambling
deliverance, which was sharply attacked in the legislature. Sir Allan
MacNab bluntly declared that the charge had been completely disproved,
and that the committee ought to have had the manliness to say so.
Drummond, a member of the government, also said that the attack had
failed. The accusers were willing to allow the matter to drop, and as a
matter of fact the report was never put to a vote. But Mr. Brown would
not allow them to escape so easily. Near the close of the session he
made a speech which gave a new character to the discussion. Up to this
time it had been a personal question between Brown and his assadanls.
Brown dealt with this aspect of the matter briefly but forcibly. He
declared that not only his conduct but the character of the other
commissioners was fully vindicated, and that a conspiracy to drive him
from public life had signally failed. Conservative members had met him
and admitted that there was no truth n the charges, but had pleaded that
they must go with the party. Members had actually been asked to “pair”
off on the question of upholding or destroying his character, before
they had heard his defence.
From these personal
matters he returned to the abuses that had been discovered by the
commission. A terrible story of neglect and cruelty was told. These
charges did not rest on the testimony of prisoners. They were sustained
by the evidence of officers and by the records of the institution. "If,”
said the speaker, “every word of the witnesses called by the
commissioners were struck out, and the ease left to rest on the
testimony of the warden’s own witnesses and the official records of the
prison, there would be sufficient to establish the blackest record of
•wickedness that ever disgraced a civilized country.” Amid applause,
expressions of amazement and cries of “Shame!” from the galleries, Brown
told of the abuses laid bare by the prison commission. lie told of
prisoners fed with rotten meal and bread infested with maggots; of
children beaten with cat and rawhide for childish faults; of a
coffin-shaped box in which men and even women were made to stand or
rather crouch, their limbs cramped, and their lungs scantily supplied
with air from a few holes. Brown’s speech virtually closed the case,
although Macdonald strove to prove that the accounts of outrages were
exaggerated, that the warden, Smith, was himself a kind-hearted man, and
that he had been harshly treated by the commissioners.
In a letter written
about this time, Macdonald said that he was carrying on a war against
Brown, that he would prove him a most dishonest, dishonourable fellow,
“and in doing so I will only pay him a debt that I owe him for abusing
me for months together in his newspaper.” Whatever the provocation may
have been, the personal relations of the two men were further embittered
by this incident.
Eight years afterwards
they were members of the coalition ministry by which confederation was
brought about, and Brown’s intimate friend, Alexander Mackenzie, says
that the association was most distasteful to Brown, on account of the
charges made in connection with the prison commission. That the leaders
of the two parties were not merely political opponents but personal
enemies must have embittered the party struggle: and it was certainly
waged on both sides with fury, and with little regard either for the
amenities of life or for Fair play.
His work on the
commission gave Brown a strong interest in prison reform. While the work
of the commission was fresh in his mind he delivered an address in the
Toronto Mechanics’ Institute, in which he sketched the history of prison
reform <n England and the United States, and pointed out how backward
Canada was in this phase of civilization. He pleaded for a more
charitable treatment of those on whom the prison doors had closed. There
were inmates of prisons who would stand guiltless in the presence of Him
who searches the heart. There were guilty ones outside. We cannot, he
said, expect human justice to be infallible : but we must not draw' a
hard and fast line between the world inside the prison and the world
outside, as if the courts of ustice had the divine power of judging
between good and evil. In Canada, he said, we have no system of
reforming the prisoner; even the chaplain or the teacher never enters
the prison walls. “Children of eight and ten years of age are placed in
our gaols, surrounded by hundreds of the worst criminals in the
province.” He went on to describe some of the evils of herding together
hardened criminals, children, and persons charged with trifling
offences. He advocated government inspection of prisons, a uniform
system of discipline, strict classification and separation, secular and
religious instruction, and the teaching of trades. The prisoner should
be punished, but not made to feel that he was being degraded by society
for the sake of revenge. Hope should be held out to those who showed
repentance. The use of the lash for trifling offences against discipline
was condemned. On the whole, his views were such as are now generally
accepted, and he may be regarded as one of the pioneers of prison reform
in Canada.
The habit of personal
attack was further illustrated in the charge, frequently made by Mr.
Brown’s enemies, that he had been a defaulter in v Scotland. The North
American had printed this accusation during its fierce altercation with
the Globe, but the editor, Mr. Macdougall, had afterwards apologized,
and explained that it had crept into the paper during his absence and
without his knowledge. In the session of 1858, a Mr. Powell, member for
Carleton, renewed the attack in the House, and Mr. Brown made a reply of
such compelling human interest that not a word can be added or taken
away. He said: “This is not the first time that the insinuation has been
made that I was a defaulter in my native city. It has been echoed before
now from the organs of the ministry, and at many an election contest
have I been compelled to sit patiently and hear the tale recounted in
the ears of assembled hundreds. For fifteen years I have been compelled
to bear in silence these imputations. I would that I could yet refrain
from the painful theme, but the pointed and public manner in which the
charge has now been made, and the fear that the public cause with which
1 am identified might suffer by my silence, alike tell me that the
moment has come when I ought to explain the transaction, as I have
always been able to explain it, and to cast back the vile charge of
dishonesty on those who dared to make it. That my father was a merchant
in the city of Edinburgh, and that he engaged in disastrous business
speculations commencing in the inflated times of 1825 and 1826,
terminating ten years afterwards in his failure, is undoubtedly true.
And It is, unhappily, also true, that he did hold a public office, and
-that funds connected with that office were, at the moment of his
sequestration, mixed up with his private funds, to the extent, I
believe, of two thousand eight hundred pounds. For this sum four
relatives and friends were sureties, and they paid the money. Part of
that money has been repaid; every sixpence of it will be paid, and paid
shortly. Property has been long set aside for the payment of that debt
to its utmost farthing. My father felt that while that money remained
unpaid there was a brand on himself and his family, and he has wrought,
wrought as few men have wrought, to pay off, not only that, but other
obligations of a sacred character. Many a bill of exchange, the proceeds
of his labour, has he sent to old creditors who were in need of what he
owed. For myself, sir, I have felt equally bound with my father; as his
eldest son I felt that the fruits of my industry should stand pledged
until every penny of those debts was paid and the honour of my family
vindicated. An honourable member opposite, whom I regret to hear
cheering on the person who made the attack, might have known that, under
the legal advice of his relative, I long ago secured that in the event
of my death before the accomplishment of our long-cherished purpose,
after the payment of my own obligations, the full discharge of those
sacred debts of my father should stand as a first charge on my ample
estate. Debts, sir, which I was no more bound in law to pay than any
gentleman who hears me. For the painful transaction to which I have been
forced to allude, I am no more responsible than any gentleman in this
assembly. It happened in 1836; I was at that time but seventeen years of
age, I was totally unconnected with it, but, young as I was, I felt
then, as I feel now, the obligation it laid upon me, and I vowed that I
should never rest until every penny had been paid. There are those
present who have known my every action since I set foot in this country
; they know I have not eaten the bread of idleness, but they did not
know the great object of my labour. The one end of my desire for wealth
was that I might discharge those debts and redeem my father’s honour.
Thank God, sir, my exertions have not been in vain. Thank God, sir, I
have long possessed property far more than sufficient for all my
desires. But, as those gentlemen know, it is one thing in this country
to have property, and another to be able to withdraw a large sum of
money from a business in active operation; and many a night have I laid
my head on my pillow after a day of toil, estimating and calculating If
the time had yet arrived, when, with justice to those to whom I stood
indebted, and without fear of embarrassment resulting, I might venture
to carry out the purpose of my life. I have been accused of being
ambitious; I have been charged with aspiring to the office of prime
minister of this great country and of lending all my energies to the
attainment of that end; but I only wish I could make my opponents
understand how infinitely surpassing all this, how utterly petty and
contemptible in my thoughts have been all such considerations, in
comparison with the one longing desire to discharge those debts of
honour and vindicate those Scottish principles that have been instilled
into me since my youth. The honourable member for Cornwall [John
Sandfield Macdonald] is well aware that every word I have spoken
to-night has been long ago told him in private confidence, and he knows,
too, that last summer I was rejoicing in the thought that I was at last
in a position to visit my native land with the large sum necessary for
all the objects I contemplated, and that I was only prevented from doing
so by the financial storm which swept over the continent. Such, sir, are
the circumstances upon which this attack is founded. Such the facts on
which I have been denounced as a public defaulter and refugee from my
native land. But why, asked the person who made the charge, has he sat
silent under it? Why if the thing is false has he endured it so many
years? What, sir, free myself from blame by inculpating one so dear !
Say ‘ It was not I who was in fault, it was my father’? Rather would I
have lost my right arm than utter such a word! No, sir, I waited the
time when the charge could be met as it only might be fittingly met; and
my only regret even now is that I have been compelled to speak before
those debts have been entirely liquidated. But it is due, sir, to my
aged father that I explain that it has not been with his will that these
imputations have been so long pointed at me, and that it has only been
by earnest remonstrance that I have prevented his vindicating me in
public long ere now. No man in Toronto, perhaps, is more generally known
in the community, and I think I could appeal even to his political
opponents to say if there is a citizen of Toronto at this day more
thoroughly respected and esteemed. With a full knowledge of all that has
passed, and all the consequences that have flowed from a day of
weakness, I will say that an honester man does not breathe the air of
heaven; that no son feels prouder of his father than I do to-day; and
that I would have submitted to the obloquy and reproach of his every
act, not fifteen years, but fifty—ay, have gone down to the grave with
the cold shade of the world upon me, rather than that one of his gray
hairs should have been injured.” Public opinion was strongly influenced
in Mr. Brown’s favour by this incident. “The entire address,” said a
leading Conservative paper next day, “forms the most refreshing
episode which the records of the Canadian House of Commons possess.
Every true-hearted man must feel proud of one who has thus chivalrously
done battle for his grayhaired sire. We speak deliberately when
asserting that George Brown’s position in the country is at this moment
immeasurably higher than it ever previously has been. And though our
political creed be diametrically antipodal to his own, we shall ever
hall him as a credit to the land we love so well.” |