Complete Fictional Works of John Buchan (Illustrated)

by John Buchan

  The Washington Treaty of 1871, which dealt largely with fisheries and trade, was abrogated in 1885, and the fishing question was governed by the old treaty of 1818. This was manifestly an out-of-date machine, so a special commission, of which Mr. Chamberlain was a member, was appointed in 1887, and the Chamberlain-Bryan Treaty was produced, which, however, the United States Senate declined to ratify. The consequence was an annual modus vivendi, till in 1897 the Governments of Britain and America agreed to a joint High Commission, which should settle all outstanding differences, such as the matter of trade reciprocity, the Alaskan boundary, the Atlantic fisheries, and the seal fishing in the Behring Sea. Lord Herschell, the chairman, died during the sittings, and the deliberations came to an untimely end, principally because, though agreement seemed to be in sight on the other points, a violent divergence of views was apparent on the Alaskan frontier question. On this the difference of attitude and interests between Canada and her neighbour came to a head, and it formed in many ways the most delicate and troublesome problem of Minto’s term of office.

  Alaska had been first explored by the Russians Behring and Cherikov, and its coast had been first charted by Captain Cook in 1778 and Vancouver in 1793-94. The land originally was Russian territory, and its relations with America were fixed by treaty in 1824, and its boundary with the British possessions by the treaty of 1825. In 1867 Russian Alaska was sold to the United States, but the frontier question with Canada was not scientifically determined. Towards the close of the century the matter was made urgent by the discovery of gold in the Klondyke and the rapid development of the Yukon district. Canada needed ports for her hinterland, and the question of police regulations was insoluble so long as the boundary line was vague. There were many suggestions made for a compromise, but America stood on what she believed to be her legal rights given by the treaty of 1825. Arbitration was proposed under an impartial tribunal and an umpire, but this America rejected. The feeling in Canada may be judged from a letter of Minto’s to Arthur Elliot in August 1899: —

  “The States are impossible to deal with. Their leading men, however high-minded personally, are entirely under the influence of local organizations which they can’t ignore. No one for an instant expects fair play from the States either in business or in sport. The feeling here is very strong against them, and it is only human nature that it should be so. On the other hand, thinking people of course see the vital necessity of being on friendly terms with them. Canadian statesmen fully recognize the overwhelming importance of this; but one can’t forget that you have an unruly mining population on the debatable frontier of Alaska, rubbing up against Canadian posts, and a good hearty hatred between a large part of both nations.”

  The ordinary reader, when he first approaches the subject, is inclined to be amazed at the unreason and truculence of the American attitude, and to set it down to that highhandedness in international questions which has occasionally distinguished a nation accustomed more than others to proclaim the majesty of international law. Here was a long strip of coast, running far to the south and overlapping British Columbia, which had been given by an old treaty to Russia because of the rights created at that date by occupation, when America had no interest in the region. It was fair to argue that the whole position as between two friendly neighbours should be revised by arbitration in the light of the facts of Canadian western development. Arbitration seemed to be a pet American procedure. In 1895-96 President Cleveland had compelled Lord Salisbury to accept it in a boundary dispute with Venezuela — had insisted on it, indeed, with notable discourtesy. But now, when a neighbour asked for arbitration in a case far more difficult than that of the Venezuela frontier, America would have none of it. She was indignant when it was suggested that Alaska should be included in the reference of the Herschell Commission, and on that very score the Commission failed. She was in effective occupation of the coast strip; “what I have I hold,” seemed to be her answer, irrespective of law or decency.

  Then Britain proposed arbitration anew, and there is reason to believe that President M’Kinley would have accepted it. Even John Hay, his Secretary of State, though he did not like it, felt some difficulty in refusing what America had demanded in the case of Venezuela. But in September 1901 M’Kinley was assassinated, and Theodore Roosevelt succeeded him as President; and one of Roosevelt’s first acts was to refuse categorically any suggestion for arbitration. What were his reasons? He was a wise and a strong man, a lover of his country, but a lover also of fair play and international righteousness. Had he been convinced that America was behaving dishonourably, we may be certain that he would have done what he held to be right and consigned all intriguing interests and threatening electorates to the devil. On what did he base his unhesitating refusal?

  In the first place — if we may guess at his thoughts — he regarded the treaty of 1825 as a legal document to be interpreted judicially. It was the title-deeds of America’s property on the southern Alaskan coast. For seventy years a certain obvious interpretation of it had held the field, which showed the boundary running round the heads of many inlets. It was clear to him that it had been the intention of the treaty to give Russia not merely a string of isolated headlands, but the unbroken lisiere. Now Canada had made the mistake of overstating her case. She claimed that the line should run across the mouths of the fjords, leaving her the deep inlets behind. To Roosevelt and to the American people the claim seemed preposterous, both on the wording of the treaty and on the prescriptive right given by the assumption of seventy years. Had there been an arbitration, this extreme case of Canada’s would have been put forward as a bargaining counter, and, since arbitrators invariably compromise, Canada would have received more than her due. He felt that he had no right to play fast and loose with the property of his country; it was not only Seattle and the West that would object, it was the whole American nation. He strongly desired a settlement, but he did not believe that any settlement would endure which violated plain legal rights. All he was concerned with was to have these rights explicitly ascertained, and for that the proper instrument was a judicial commission.

  It was believed at the time in Canada that the negotiations with America over the revision of the Bulwer-Clayton Treaty, in order to assure her control of the Panama Canal, gave Britain an opportunity for bartering concessions in Central America for concessions in Alaska. The opportunity, if it ever really existed, was missed, and the Alaska question was referred to a commission of “six impartial jurists of repute,” three British and three American. This was not satisfactory to Canada, for it seemed likely to lead to a deadlock, but Laurier accepted the proposal, it being understood that the British three would be an English and a Canadian judge and the English Chief-Justice. To the amazement of the world the American trio consisted of the Secretary for War, Mr. Elihu Root; Mr. Henry Cabot Lodge, the Senator for Massachusetts; and Senator Turner of Washington. Mr. Root was a great lawyer, but he was also a member of the American Executive; Senator Lodge had publicly described the Canadian case as “a baseless and manufactured claim,” and Senator Turner represented those Western interests which were hostile to Canadian trade. Where were the “impartial jurists”? Roosevelt’s motive in the appointments seems to have been that he was determined on a speedy settlement which would remove “the last obstacle to absolute agreement between the two peoples,” and that he was convinced that his case was so unanswerable that he did not need to seek an appearance of impartiality.

  Canada, who had argued herself into a belief in the justice of her full claim, could scarcely be expected to approve this conduct or appreciate the motives behind it. On March 1, 1903, Minto wrote to Arthur Elliot: —

  “The U.S. have behaved quite disgracefully. Briefly, we accepted their proposal, or rather Herbert and Hay’s arrangement for the judicial discussion of the frontier dispute — three ‘impartial jurists of repute’ on each side. This was entirely contrary to what Canada has always sought for, viz., arbitration with a court selected unde
r unprejudiced conditions and an umpire; but, being honestly anxious to have the arguments on both sides fully considered, we agreed to the Hay-Herbert treaty, pointing out that it was not what we hoped for, but that the immense importance of a friendly international consideration of the subject had decided us to accept the terms proposed. The pourparlers were perfectly distinct that on one side we should have the Chief-Justice of England and two judges of the High Courts of England and Canada respectively — assuming, of course, that the U.S. commissioners would be jurists of distinction not at present mixed up in politics. Imagine our surprise when Roosevelt appoints Root, his Sec. of S. for War; Lodge, who has given vent to the most anti-British views on Alaska; and Turner, the Senator for Washington State and the representative of the Pacific ports interest, in opposition, of course, to our Alaskan coast trade. It’s the most monstrous thing. . . . The first inclination was to retire altogether as far as Canada was concerned from the bargain. On second thoughts, however, it seems better, while protesting against the U.S. action, to accept the President’s nominations; but I have impressed upon Sir Wilfrid and upon H.M.’s Gov. that in my opinion we ought to insist on sticking to our side of the bargain, and appointing the Chief-Justice and other judges on our side as originally intended. For some reason or other H.M.’s Gov. seem to have got it into their heads that because the U.S. are appointing partisans, therefore we must give up the judicial character of our representatives. I think exactly the opposite. If both sides appoint partisans the tribunal must lose all dignity and weight, whereas if we stick to the bargain like gentlemen, we shall not only gain by better professional arguments, but will place the U.S. before the world as not having played up to the terms of the treaty which they had agreed to.”

  Minto’s good sense — with which Sir Wilfrid Laurier was in full accord-prevailed. It was considered wise to appoint, in addition to Lord Alverstone, two Canadian judges, Sir Louis Jette and Mr. Justice Armour, the latter of whom died in London and was succeeded by Mr. A. B. Aylesworth, a leader of the Ontario bar. In October 1903 the tribunal reported. By a majority of four to two, Lord Alverstone voting with the American representatives, it was held that the boundary should run, not across the mouths, but round the heads of the fjords, and that the Portland Channel, the southern limit, should be taken as running in such a way as to give Canada only two of the four islands claimed. In effect the verdict accepted the case of the United States.

  There was an instant uproar in Canada, and the bitter part of the the pill was the Portland Channel. It appeared that Lord Alverstone had admitted the strength of the British case on 12th October, and had delivered on 17th October a judgment contradicting his expressed opinion, and the natural deduction was that, in his anxiety to settle the matter, he had compromised, and acted as a diplomatist and not as a judge. The two Canadian commissioners protested publicly, and Minto lamented the awakening of all kinds of old separatist and anti-British ghosts which he hoped had long been laid in their graves. It may be safely said that for the allegations against Lord Alverstone there was no foundation. The English Chief-Justice was not a great lawyer or a conspicuously strong man, but he was a very honest one, and he was incapable on such a tribunal of forgetting the primary duties of a judge. The best legal view at the time was that the question of the Portland Channel was one of extreme difficulty in which the merits were evenly balanced, and that the American contention was at least as justifiable as the Canadian.

  Now that the irritation has long been forgotten, the considered opinion of Canada accepts the finding as a reasonable settlement. Undoubtedly President Roosevelt, however excellent his intentions, and however cogent his grounds for refusing an arbitration, played a blundering part, for his choice of the American commissioners was one of those pieces of folly and bluster which sometimes marred his great career. If his case was as strong as he believed it to be, and as it no doubt was, to pack the court with partisans was to make certain that any decision would be suspect in the eyes of Canada and the world; and he did not help matters when, after the decision was announced, he proclaimed it to the housetops as “the greatest diplomatic victory of our time.” Minto, on the contrary, showed a restraint and wisdom which had a soothing effect on the exacerbated temper of his Government. He had been as angry as any Canadian at the American appointments, but he did not question the justice of the verdict. He calmed down those who demanded that in future Canada should have the “treaty-making power” by suggesting that in that event Canada must shoulder the whole burden of her defence. He made himself a complete master of the facts of the case, and defended Lord Alverstone much better than that honest gentleman defended himself. He went over every argument with his Ministers in long conversations, the notes of which show not only his trenchant good sense but an unexpected legal acumen; while his letters to Sir Wilfrid contain an argument on the Portland Channel which was certainly not bettered by counsel during the hearing of the case.

  III

  Canadian internal politics were no part of Minto’s province, but there was a margin of domestic questions where the Governor-General had a certain status, and was free to inquire and advise. Notable among these was the administration of the new Yukon province, the position of the Indian remnants, and matters of historical and antiquarian interest, which are apt to be ignored in a country borne on the high tide of commercial triumph. In July 1900, while Sir Wilfrid Laurier was in the thick of preparations for a general election, Minto left Ottawa for a prolonged tour in the North-West. It was a land he had not visited since he went to Vancouver with Lord Lansdowne fifteen years before, and every mile was a revelation, for the old villages had swelled into towns, and towns had been transformed into cities. He left Vancouver on 8th August with Lady Minto, and, travelling by way of Skagway and the White Horse Pass, reached Dawson City on the 14th. For four days he led a strenuous life, of which the burden was not lightened by excessive proffers of champagne. “It has been a wonderful experience,” his diary records. “There seems to have been an idea that we would hold ourselves aloof, and refuse generally to meet all classes or interchange ideas. We have done our best to see every one and do everything that time allowed. I have received petitions from the citizens and the Board of Trade, and discussed matters with the politicians, and have had many conversations with miners and others interested in the country. I have no doubt that my search for information will be bitterly resented by those in power, but to have refused to listen would have been, in my opinion, miserable.” Among those who resented his conduct was certainly not Sir Wilfrid, to whom the Yukon was a perpetual source of disquiet, and who gladly welcomed an honest and first-hand opinion. The enthusiasm attending the Governor-General’s departure from Dawson was in marked contrast to the apathy shown on his arrival. The miners felt they had found a friend who understood them. They presented Lady Minto with a gold basket, made in Dawson, filled with nuggets, and with hearty hand-shakes and amid ringing cheers the party embarked on the paddle-boat, Sybil, on their return journey down the Yukon River.

  In Minto’s view the direction of the Yukon at that time was a disgrace. It was too far away to be effectively governed from Ottawa, and corruption, which was always an ugly background force in Canadian politics, walked there open and unashamed. The place was a Territory, administered by a commissioner and five others appointed by the Governor-General-in-Council, to which body two elected members had just been added. The problem, it is true, was far from easy. The population was rough, mixed, and nomadic, and of the 17,000 in Dawson City 75 per cent, were American subjects. The system of getting gold was entirely “placer” mining, which is not easily developed into a systematic industry. Distance and the difficulties of transport made supplies costly, and administrative blunders added to the expense of living and intensified the gambling atmosphere. “Prices are enormous,” Minto wrote to Arthur Elliot; “an egg 75 cents, a bottle of champagne cheap at 20 dollars, but every one drinks it on every possible occasion; hay very cheap when I was there at 300
dollars a ton (I believe it has been up to 600 dollars). The high prices are to a great extent of course due to expense of freight, but also to the misgovernment which has so taxed the gold output that there is a feeling that only gambling prices are worth going in for. Liquor is only allowed in by a system of permits, the Minister of the Interior disposing of these permits to his friends at a royalty of two dollars a gallon, and they selling it in Dawson for four and five dollars a gallon to speculators there.”

  It is the tale of all new mining camps. A remote government treats them as a milch-cow for revenue and a field for patronage, and forgets its duties. In a long private letter to Mr. Chamberlain, Minto set out the reforms which seemed to him essential. The excessive royalty on the gold output — 10 per cent, on the gross — should be reduced; the liquor permits system should be abolished, since it put the trade into a few corrupt hands; there should be a change in the system of the reservation of claims for the Dominion Government, which was no less than an invitation to official dishonesty; above all, a reasonable proportion of the revenue should be spent on the improvement of the country. There was nothing new either in the complaints or the proposed reforms, for Canada had been humming for the past year with talk of Yukon scandals. Sir Wilfrid was far from easy in his own mind about the matter, and he could not disregard the emphatic comments of the Governor-General. The gold royalty was reduced, and other reforms were in process, when the Yukon question was suddenly transformed into the Alaskan boundary controversy. In a few years the decline of the placer mining stripped the problem of its urgency, for the wilds closed in upon many mushroom settlements, and the torrential growth checked and ebbed.