Canada Under Attack

by Jennifer Crump

  Durham’s report aside, the rebellions also served to finally dispel the widespread American notion that Canada was ripe for the taking. The vast majority of Canadians, including those who incited rebellion, had no interest in joining the United States. Their ferocity in defending their country was as unmatchable as it was unbeatable.

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  AROOSTOOK — THE ALMOST WAR

  We’ll feed them well with ball and shot.

  We’ll cut these redcoats down,

  Before we yield to them an inch

  Or title of our ground.

  — American Fighting Song, Bangor, Maine, 1839

  The Americans may have given up on the idea that the Canadians were eager to join them, but that did not mean they’d given up trying to acquire all, or at least part, of Canada, by whatever means necessary.

  In 1783 two empires, one old and established the other young and hungry, met in Paris to end the Revolutionary War. Among the items that the British and American representatives debated was who would claim a large tract of land known as the Aroostook Valley. They struggled with Article 2, which was intended to describe the northeastern border of the United States,

  From the northwest angle of Nova Scotia, to wit, that angle which is formed by a line drawn due north from the source of the St. Croix river to the highlands, along the said highlands which divide those rivers that empty themselves into the St. Lawrence, and those which fall into the Atlantic ocean, to the north-western most head of the Connecticut river….

  It was an imprecise description to say the least. Both Maine and Britain claimed large, overlapping parts of the territory. But in 1783, the negotiators were unconcerned. The Aroostook was unmapped, sparsely populated, and filled with dense forests that made it barely inhabitable; definitely not something worth fighting for. By 1840, however, the world was a different place. Urbanization and expansion created an insatiable appetite for lumber and the demand reached previously unimaginable levels. Suddenly these vast tracts of forested land became almost as valuable as gold. Just as suddenly everyone wanted the Aroostook. “This whole region is a mighty forest,” The New Yorker magazine poetically wrote. “The rivers hollow out a path through the trees and the sparse settlements make windows in the broad forest landscape.”1

  An eclectic collection of people populated the area. French Acadians inhabited much of the Saint John and Madawaska river valleys while Americans settled near the Aroostook River. Near the west bank of the Saint John River were the British. The French speaking residents of the Madawaska were technically British subjects, but they felt no allegiance to either the British or Americans. They referred to themselves instead as residents of the République du Madawaska. Added into this mix of people were the hundreds of seasonal lumbermen who bedded their farms down for the winter and then polled the Saint John River in search of lumber. Inevitably there were tensions — between the permanent residents and these seasonal entrepreneurs and between the separate encampments of Americans, English, and French.

  For more than 100 years, North America had been in a near constant state of war as the European nations battled for control of the continent. By 1814, Britain had emerged as the sole global power and the rebellions had been quelled. The tumultuous relationship between Britain and its former colony, the United States, had calmed. But it would not last. In 1819, John Quincy Adams, then U.S. secretary of state, claimed that

  the world must be familiarized with the idea of considering our proper domination to be the continent of North America. From the time we became an independent people, it was as much a law of nature that this become our pretension as the Mississippi should flow to the sea. Spain has possessions upon our southern border and Great Britain upon our northern borders, but it is impossible that centuries should elapse without finding them annexed to the United States.

  Alumber camp in the disputed Aroostock region, January 1854.

  In 1840, the Aroostook seemed a good place for them to start that annexation. For part of the War of 1812, the British had occupied large tracts of land in the Aroostook and Saint John river valleys, intending to annex the lands to Canada once the war ended. But the Treaty of Ghent restored the ambiguous borders of the Treaty of Paris and with it the competing claims of both the U.S. and Britain to the valley. The situation was further exacerbated when Maine gained state hood in 1820 thereby inheriting the dispute over its northeastern border. The young state was determined to pursue her claim and the riches to be found there. In 1825 a great fire destroyed much of the forests in New Brunswick, along with the homes and properties of thousands who were living there. After he viewed the devastation, the lieutenant-governor of New Brunswick, George Stracey Smyth, claimed that the Aroostook and St. John valleys, with their rich stocks of lumber, were critical to the survival of the colony.

  Map of the Provinces of Canada, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Prince Edward Island, with a large section of the United States and showing the boundary of the British dominions in North America, according to the treaties of 1842 and 1846.

  In an effort to resolve the dispute, the U.S. and Britain appointed separate commissioners to map the area. Not surprisingly, the commissioners were also unable to agree and eventually both claims were laid before William I, the king of the Netherlands, who had agreed to settle the dispute. The arguments for both sides were extensive and centred on everything from historical evidence to the definition of the Atlantic Ocean. The U.S. brief alone was reportedly 588 pages long, the British 418 pages. In 1831, William I selected the Saint John and St. Francis rivers as the border between Nova Scotia and Maine. The effort was clearly a compromise and almost immediately accepted by Britain. The Maine legislature, under pressure from lumber interests, refused to ratify the decision. Once again the border was in dispute.

  A few months after they rejected the border suggested by King William I, Maine was still determined to secure the territory it regarded as its own. Despite warnings from President Andrew Jackson that they should refrain from acting on their claim, the Maine Legislature decided to incorporate the village of Madawaska, along with over 10,000 square kilometres of land in the disputed territory. Elections were held in the village but some, including the French settlers, refrained from voting. Regardless, they held a town meeting attended by some 40 citizens and elected several town councillors before British officials arrived to disband the meeting. At another meeting encouraged by Maine officials, they met to choose a representative to the legislature. This time, the lieutenant-governor of New Brunswick became involved. He arrived in Madawaska with the New Brunswick attorney general, a local sheriff, and a complement of militia and promptly arrested four of the men who were most heavily involved with the Madawaska elections. Three of the four were fined $50 each and imprisoned for three months in a New Brunswick prison. In March 1832 the government of Maine accepted what amounted to a secret, million dollar bribe from Washington to refrain from pursuing their claim to the region. Washington intended to accept the recommendations of King William I but Maine withdrew from the secret pact and the Senate was forced to reject the arbitration.

  Mutual frustration built on both sides of the border, along with the size of the troops massing there and within the disputed area. Settlers had no idea if they were American or British citizens. Also at issue were the hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of timber in the region, timber that was steadily growing in value as the dispute wore on. Dispatches were sent to both Washington and London, seeking support. The U.S. government was not anxious to launch another war with Britain and in Britain; Prime Minister Lord Palmerston considered the Aroostook problem to be little more than a nuisance.

  Palmerston sent word that Britain would continue to exercise jurisdiction in the disputed area until a settlement could be reached. But a settlement seemed unlikely in that climate. Given the terms of union, the U.S. Senate was unlikely to approve a settlement that Maine did not support and Maine itself seemed to be quickly adopting
a take-all or take-war approach. As a compromise, Palmerston suggested that each side appoint a commissioner to investigate the claims of both sides. They were further given instructions to survey the area and locate geographical features mentioned in the 1783 treaty. Suspecting that what Palmerston was really looking for was compromise rather than the truth, and not wishing to antagonize Maine, the U.S. government rejected Palmerston’s suggestion.

  Until they could negotiate a treaty the two sides agreed to create a virtual no man’s land where no country claimed sovereignty. For a while the arrangement seemed to work and lumbermen from both sides arrived every winter to cull the forests. But in 1837 Congress passed a bill that would distribute proceeds from land sales to the states. Since the amount would be based on the state’s population, Maine dispatched a land agent to produce an official census of the disputed region along the border in order to bolster their claim to the funds. The land agent, Rufus McIntyre, was a scrappy 70-year-old who was spoiling for a fight with the British. Reports filtered out that Mr. McIntyre was offering money to encourage settlement in the disputed area. But when McIntyre’s men arrested a dozen so-called trespassers, including James McLaughlin, the New Brunswick appointed warden of the disputed territory, outrage overcame caution and the New Brunswickers were soon marching toward the valley. McLaughlin had already been transported to a prison in Bangor. At 1:00 a.m. on the night of February 12th, 40 armed men surrounded the house in which McIntyre and his companions slept. They arrested the men and McIntyre reportedly demanded to know by whose authority they were arresting him. “By this authority,” the commander responded, brandishing his bayonet.2 McIntyre and his companions were taken to Woodstock where a magistrate issued a warrant against them. They were then marched to a prison in Fredericton. Officials gamely offered to release the men if they agreed to quit the area. When McIntyre refused, the solicitor general of New Brunswick assured him that he would supply him with a note that would explain that the man had no choice but to abandon his task or be imprisoned. Again he refused.

  A true map of the survey under the seventh article of the Treaty of Ghent by order of the commissioners, 1826.

  Outraged by this apparent attack on Maine’s own soil, a posse was formed and immediately set off with the goal of rescuing McIntyre or taking revenge on the Canadians. By the middle of March, Maine had amassed over 2,000 troops in the Aroostook Valley. The legislature met and voted an additional 10,000 troops and approved $800,000 in funds for the defence of the state. New Brunswick also massed their troops along the border and ventured into the disputed territory. In response, Maine warned that if challenged its soldiers would not hesitate to retaliate.

  In the midst of these escalating tensions, some more level-headed men released McIntyre, McLaughlin, and the other imprisoned men. But the newspapers on both sides of the border continued to whip up the populace. They condemned the arrests of citizens of their respective countries and suggested that the invasion of their cities was imminent. They celebrated their soldiers and extolled their citizens to be brave. “Let the sword by drawn and the scabbard be thrown away!” read the headlines of the Kennebec Journal. War seemed inevitable. In Upper Canada, Lieutenant-Governor Sir George Arthur declared, “I don’t see how this can be ended without a general war.” In the U.S., citizens were further riled to learn that an American had been tossed into a New Brunswick jail for whistling “Yankee Doodle” and told that he would not be released until he learned to whistle “God Save the Queen.”

  While the politicians postured and the soldiers rattled their sabres, the “war” began to take on an almost comical tone. One incident occurred when a group of American and Canadian lumbermen were drinking in the same tavern in apparent peace. When one mischievous soul raised his glass to toast Maine, a brawl broke out. According to local legend a pig that wandered in from Canada was shot, and one unfortunate Maine farmer’s cow was taken hostage by the magistrate of Kent, New Brunswick — apparently it was later rescued by the Maine militia.

  Inevitably, there was a darker side to the war. Soldiers would mysteriously disappear from their campsites and never return. A soldier by the name of Hiram T. Smith died, but no one is really sure how he succumbed. Explanations have ranged from being run over by a supply wagon to drowning in a local pond. Whatever the cause, a plaque was raised to mark the site of his death in the summer of 1839.

  While the soldiers on both sides kept themselves busy building fortifications, the U.S. and British government’s struggled to find a peaceful solution to the crisis. In the end, they appointed two men — Daniel Webster, a failed presidential candidate who had been given the post of secretary of state, and Alexander Baring, First Baron Ashburton. The two, who happened to be good friends, worked to find a solution that would be acceptable to all parties. For his part, Ashburton refused to relinquish any territories north of the Saint John River. The dispute was finally settled in 1842. The United States received 18,000 square kilometres and the British received 12,950. The British agreed to pay the Americans reparations while the Americans agreed to pay the British for expenses they incurred while defending the area. Webster met the senate in a secret session in order to convince them to support the treaty. During that secret meeting he produced a map that he had said he had found in the Paris archives while researching records of the boundary. The map was purportedly marked by Benjamin Franklin and apparently entirely supported the British claims. Today, most historians believe the map to be a clever forgery created by Webster to sell the plan or by someone else sympathetic to the British cause.

  The Aroostook War was really the war that wasn’t. It is alternately known as the Lumberman’s War, for the lumberman who made up most of the Maine militia, or the Pork n’ Beans War, for the food the soldiers ate while they waited in their camps for the war to start. It was a war that the fledgling state of Maine was to be eager for, but that both Britain and Washington were determined to avoid.

  CHAPTER NINE:

  THE IRISH RAIDS

  For over 20 years Canada’s borders remained silent. Then the rumblings began. Throughout the winter of 1865 the good people of Campobello Island, the Nova Scotia colony, had listened to the rumours. A well-funded, well-organized, well-armed group of Irish American militants were hoping to pick a fight with the British. They were known as the Fenian Brotherhood and had been founded in 1859 in New York, as an offshoot of the Irish Republican Army. The two groups had a common goal — the liberation of Ireland — but they did not agree on the method. Some thought that an uprising in Ireland was the answer while others favoured an invasion of Canada as a way to get British attention. Most of the Fenians were battle-hardened veterans of the Civil War and most had found themselves unemployed when the war ended.

  Fiercely loyal to Ireland and violently anti-English, the Fenians decided that if they could not launch an invasion and force the English from Ireland, they’d attempt the next best thing and force them from Canada. At worst, they hoped their fight would spark a wider conflict, pitting the entire United States against Britain. But what they most hoped for was to capture Canada and offer it in exchange for a free Ireland. By the time Campobello Island heard the rumours of an imminent invasion, the Fenians already had supplies in position along the border, generously provided by the demobilizing Union Army. All of Nova Scotia was a potential target. The colony was in the midst of a debate over Confederation and it was starting to look like voters would reject the idea altogether. The Fenians did not expect to meet much resistance. Campobello Island, isolated and sparsely populated, was at more risk than most and the people knew it. When a New Brunswick militia officer entered the general store to post a notice requesting new recruits, three patrons dropped their purchases and joined on the spot. By the time the Fenian sails were sighted, New Brunswick had 5,000 regulars, volunteers, and militia guarding its borders.

  The military received intelligence, warning of an imminent attack, on St. Patrick’s Day. Citizens were assigned to keep watch and th
e newly minted militia was mobilized. They waited but nothing happened. By the end of the month the rumours had quieted and everyone became anxious to get back to normal. The government disbanded the local militia and assured the people that all was well. It wasn’t. By April 1866, 1,000 Fenians had gathered in Maine, directly across the water from Campobello Island. And more were on their way. Michael Murphy, a Fenian leader in Toronto, was ordered to bring a contingent of his men to the Maine–New Brunswick border, but the telegram was intercepted by Canadian officials and Murphy and several companions were arrested on a train in Cornwall, Ontario. A substantial cache of cash, weapons, and ammunition was captured with Murphy. Murphy and his companions were jailed on charges of treason until they escaped and took refuge in New York City. News of the capture arrived alongside the news that the Fenians were gathering. In New Brunswick, the volunteers quickly mustered and two British ships were dispatched to wait out the conflict in the bay.

  On April 17, the U.S. Navy boarded the Ocean Spray — a former Confederate ship that the Fenians had taken command of — took charge of the 500 rifles the ship carried, and warned the crew that that U.S. neutrality would be strictly enforced. The Fenians, confronted by an annoyed American government and facing a clear, strong resistance from the Canadians, delayed their plans to attack. The delay did not last long. In Niagara the Canadians had also received warning of an attack, but there was little they could do except wait. Attacking the Irish could be perceived as an attack on the Americans, something everyone wanted to avoid. As the sun skirted the edge of the horizon on the morning of June 1st, the sleepy residents of Fort Erie awakened to see a flotilla of ships sailing toward them. The masts bore a strange flag, a harp and crown on a field of green. On that cool, clear morning, a formidable force of nearly 1,000 Fenians slipped unhindered into their boats and rowed quietly across the Niagara River, pulling ashore at what is now the intersection of Bowen Road and Niagara Boulevard. They carried extra uniforms and arms with them for the flood of new recruits they expected to join them. They had come, they informed the local populace, to free them from the yoke of British tyranny. When no Canadians responded to what they viewed as an insane call to arms, the Fenians were astounded. What was wrong with these people? Did they not realize that liberty was within their grasp?