I claim for Canada this, that in future Canada shall be at liberty to act or not act, to interfere or not interfere, to do just as she pleases, and that she shall reserve to herself the right to judge whether or not there is cause for her to act.
Sir Wilfrid Laurier, seventh Prime Minister of Canada, served from 1896-1911
Saturday, September 30, 1899
"They're cheering in the streets," Sir Wilfred Laurier says, hands clenched behind his back.
Madeline Williams and her seventh Prime Minister are both in the highest floor, barring the clocktower, of the new city council building. It is an enormous Romanesque Revival style building, built in a square with a courtyard in the middle. The clocktower has four sandstone gargoyles carved and mounted upon it. It is very impressive. The window from which Sir Wilfrid now gazes is one of many which face Queen Street. The windows are taller than a man, and arch in the spring line style. Stucco Pillars hold up the white plaster ceilings above the mosaic floors. It is the fanciest building in Toronto. The bell tower rings above them, and the cheering drifts up even to the fourth-floor storey.
Madeline stretches out on the cream-coloured chesterfield, flipping the pages of her newspaper. "They are calling you lukewarm. "Not half so fervent as at Queen Victoria's Jubilee ceremonies," they say."
"I want us to weigh the matter carefully. This will be an absolutely wretched war."
"Australia and New Zealand have already sent troops. Is Canada less patriotic?" Madeline reads aloud. "I don't know how we can do anything else."
"If it were just a show of force, I would support that, though how the empire thinks a handful of Dutch settlers is a threat is a mystery to me. But it will not be simply a demonstration. This will be an imperial grandstanding."
"I don't know," Madeline says. "Britain has our best interests at heart. At least, he keeps telling me that."
Sir Wilfrid looks back at her. "That is what the English Canadians think. But you ought to consider us French-Canadians. I have said it before, and I shall say it again: French-Canadians belong to one country, Canada: Canada is for us the whole world: but the English-Canadians have two countries, one here and one across the sea."
"You are all my people. But there is a reason we care more what the empire thinks. It is because France abandoned us."
"I am a son of France, so I will have to disagree with you."
"She gave me up because she wanted sugar plantations."
Sir Wilfrid shakes his head. "That was before my time, but I did meet France herself when I went to Paris this year. You should have come."
"Britain does not like me to leave my land very much. I think he worries that seeing me will remind other nations of potential colonies."
"Eventually, I'd like us to have the kind of sovereignty that would give us freedom to carry on international affairs of our own volition."
"Perhaps someday. But right now, we need to figure out what is happening with this call to war."
"We have not the budget for the equipment required, the maintenance, nor the expedition of troops. By agreeing to this war, we may be agreeing to take part in all the wars of Great Britain and contribute to the military expenses of the empire. If that is the case, we should be allowed to say to Britain "If you want us to help you, call us to your councils. Let us share not only the burdens, but the duties and responsibilities as well."
"I do not think that would go over well with him. But I agree with you, at least halfway. The world is changing. You said that this next century would be our century. I wonder if you are right."
Sir Wilfrid smiles. "I believe it is true. I believe the twentieth century is the century which we shall cease to be viewed as a colony and be seen as a nation instead."
Saturday, August 1, 1914
The Canadian Pacific Railway opened a new train station, the Waterfront station in Vancouver. Madeline would have loved if this was the biggest news. Of course, it is not. Everything is in the shadow of the European Crisis.
The Empires of Germany and Russia have declared war on one another.
Monday, August 3, 1914
Germany and France have declared war on one another. Canada will be at war any day, now. If only Britain would hurry up and declare.
Madeline has hardly been outdoors since she returned to Ottawa. She sits now in one of the lesser parliament buildings. She has been herded around the city, to Sir Robert's home, and city hall, and the parliament buildings. Half the time Mr. Fowler has shadowed her, and the other half he has come close to physically dragging her between the buildings.
They are all exhausted. And there is no reason for all of them to stay up every night listening to the radio. They could all take shifts. Why waste their strength before the physical demands of war begin? But Madeline knows this would come across as callousness. And she does not want them to see her like that. The truth is, every nation, even she, has seen war before. This is nothing new, though she has seldom been one who physically fought. Not in the Boer War, though Australia and New Zealand had gone. Britain had not wanted her to, though why he did not was still a source of mystery. She doubted it was any sort of misguided paternal instinct for her safety. He had risked that often enough during the fur trade when he demanded more and more goods from her. He knew she had portaged over waterfalls and canoed through rapids. She had been killed as much as she was capable of it during one of those ventures. And she had been with a group who had not known her identity, only thinking she was a daughter or wife of one of the others. When she had woken up from being bashed into the rocks at the bottom of the waterfall, the men had been amazed. How had she survived what surely must have crushed her spine?
"We Canadians are tougher than we look," she says aloud, echoing the explanation she had given those stunned fur traders, years ago. There had been cheering and laughter, along with lingering looks of suspicion which had never amounted to anything.
Now, looking up from his newest book, Mr. Fowler chuckles. "Where did that come from?"
She grins at him. "I was thinking of when I snapped my spine after a failed portage above a waterfall."
He shudders. "That is dreadful. I do not think the average Canadian has experienced that."
"Nor the average nation since most of the others cannot portage to save their life. Not that I have talked to that many of them in person. Many letters in days gone by. It is only America and Britain I hear from now."
"And have you heard anything?"
"Beyond my call with America yesterday? No, I would have let you all know if I had. I feel as though they have forgotten me. I am so anxious I think I am going to chew my lips off."
He sighs. "It is the tension of not knowing what we could be doing even tomorrow which is causing me so much anxiety. I thought that this would not be an issue for me, but it is."
She nods. "I like waiting for positive things. Not potential war. I know Britain is on the fence about this whole concept. He used to be a lot more trigger happy, but everyone thinks that the future is now, so war is behind us."
"And you disagree?"
"I would like it to be so, but everyone cares more about their own interests than the interests of the world as a whole. And we do too. If I do not look out for Canadian interests, then no one will."
"You don't trust Britain to look out for our interests?"
"I trust him to look out for the interests of the empire."
"We are part of that empire."
"It is true, but we all know we are not among the empire's first priorities. No, Mr. Fowler, my interests, and those of you all, lie with me and me alone. We cannot expect Britain to do everything for us."
Tuesday, August 4, 1914
"When this is over, let's go somewhere exciting," Madeline says to Sir Robert on the evening of August fourth.
They are sitting inside a side office in Langevin Block. This is the Prime Minister's Office, officially, as well as the Privy Council's office. It is named after the Father of Confederation, Sir Hector-Louis Langevin. He had served in many different areas of government, though never anything high enough that Madeline considered it necessary to share her identity to him. He died only eight years ago.
"Somewhere exciting?" Sir Robert asks. "How about Halifax?"
"Halifax? But you were born there. Surely there is somewhere you have not been yet that you would like to explore."
"I was born in Grand-Pré, actually. Just outside of Halifax. I grew up as a farm boy, you know. There was always the lure of the big city. And truly, I do not think there is a place on earth which could hold a candle to the beauty of Nova Scotia."
Madeline laughs. "I do love your dedication. And Nova Scotia is beautiful. But I could never pick a favourite place so long as it is my land. Haven't you gotten over the big city lure yet? We have been confined to the city for days!"
He laughs now. "Days? My, what a burden."
"I am only complaining to you because I am sure you feel the same way. This suspense is draining the energy from me as surely as the heat is."
"I am sure that the Empire will declare any day now. Now that France has declared, and Belgium and Luxembourg have been invaded."
"I'm sure you're right."
Down the hallway, a door slams. Loud footsteps race towards them. Madeline jumps up. A man throws the door open.
"Prime Minister!" The man calls. He is one of the Privy Council Aids. "Miss Williams! I have been told to summon you at once!"
The aid turns on his heel and runs back down the hallway. Madeline glances at Sir Robert. They rush over to the group, holding the telegram. Silently, one hands it to Sir Robert. Madeline peers over his shoulder.
"We are at war," Sir Robert says, quietly.
War. Madeline feels a strange sense of relief. She leans slightly into Sir Robert.
"Well," she says. The men look at her. Only a few of them know who she is.
"Well indeed," Sir Robert says. "There is much to be done. We need to send out a call for volunteers. We need to reevaluate our spending and reassess our weaponry."
There is so much to be done. After the stagnation of the previous week, the next fortnight is a blaze of activity.
Monday, August 17, 1914
Sir Robert stands and moves to the front of the room. He clears his throat, glances at his notes, and begins. "The war has come upon us in the end very suddenly indeed, and perhaps we have not all adequately considered the awful responsibility…"
Madeline leans forward. Sir Robert will never be reckoned among her greatest orators, but he knows how to engage the audience.
"…and we do not forget that those in the British Isles who had protested most strongly in the first place against the participation of Great Britain in this war united in upholding the hands of the government and in maintaining the interests and duty of the empire…"
He glances up at Madeline, and she smiles at him. His lips briefly quirk up beneath his moustache.
"The men of Canada who are going to the front are going as free men by voluntary enlistment, as free men in a free country. They are coming forward voluntarily for the purpose of serving this Dominion and this empire in a time of peril. Already I am informed by the minister of militia that thousands more than will be required have volunteered to go. I desire to express my absolute concurrence in the view."
He was right. Many of her people were indeed very eager. The vast majority English-Canadians, but so many others as well.
"…in the Dominion as a whole, and with all that is being done in every dominion of the empire. The people as a whole, not only here in Canada, but in the mother country itself and in every dominion will, I am sure, feel the most grateful appreciation and render the warmest thanks for all the aid thus tendered…"
"It is not fitting that I should prolong this debate. In the awful dawn of the greatest war the world has ever known, in the hour when peril confronts us such as this empire has not faced for a hundred years, every vain or unnecessary word seems a discord. As to our duty, all are agreed: we stand shoulder to shoulder with Britain and the other British dominions in this quarrel. And that duty we shall not fail to fulfil as the honour of Canada demands. Not for love of battle, not for lust of conquest, not for greed of possessions, but for the cause of honour, to maintain solemn pledges, to uphold principles of liberty, to withstand forces that would convert the world into an armed camp; yea, in the very name of the peace that we sought at any cost save that of dishonour, we have entered into this war; and, while gravely conscious of the tremendous issues involved and of all the sacrifices that they may entail, we do not shrink from them, but with firm hearts we abide the event."
At the thunderous applause, Sir Robert bows his head. Madeline closes her eyes, head bowed likewise. So, it begins. And now, how shall it end?