As rebellious as possible, under the circumstances

In 1775 Britain's 14 colonies were in open revolt. The following year 13 had formed their own nation, but Britain managed to suppress the uprising in the 14th colony, Nova Scotia.

Forget the over-hyped War of 1812. This was the hour that Canada came a few whiskers away from being snuffed out long before it even existed.

It's one of the most crucial moments in our history, but almost no Canadians know about it today. Governments will never celebrate the event because it's not exactly glorious. Yet more people should know this story because it gives us insight into our psyche; our weird, conflicted psyche.

In Halifax: Warden of the North, Thomas Raddall sums up the time in one stark, eye-opening paragraph (emphasis his):

Nova Scotia, the fourteenth colony, then comprised the whole of the Maritime Provinces. The Province of Quebec was almost utterly French, conquered only 16 years before and held in submission by the British garrison in Quebec citadel. There was nothing west of Montreal but a wilderness inhabited by Indians and a scatter of trappers and traders. Thus Nova Scotia was the key to all Canada; its ports commanded the approach to the St. Lawrence all the way from Cape Breton to Gaspé and it was the only English-speaking part of the whole country. Had the Nova Scotians thrown in their lot with their fellow Americans in 1776 the war must have ended with the complete disappearance of the British Flag from North America. [p73]

Leading up to the American Revolution, Halifax was in many ways an extension of New England. The census of the towns 3,000 or so residents in 1767 lists 52 Scots, 200 Acadians, 264 "Germans and other foreigners," 302 English, 853 Irish, and a whopping 1,351 "Americans," most of whom were from New England. [p66]

So when rebellion boiled over in the south, there was no surprise to see it spread up to Halifax. The colony was ruled by a small group of elites made up of the governor and his friends, as well as a few of the richer merchants. There was basically no middle class.

When the Stamp Act hit North America, requiring all publications to used taxed "stamped" paper, Canada's first newspaper was in on the outrage. The Halifax Gazette "declared the disgust of the town and province," writes Raddal.

Provincial secretary Bulkely was nominally the editor of the Gazette and demanded an explanation from Anthony Henry, the printer who actually ran the paper. Henry brushed the treasonous content off as a prank by his young New Englander apprentice Isaiah Thomas.

But soon another incendiary paragraph appeared in the Gazette. Then it printed an anti-Britain call-to-arms in the Pennsylvania Journal under the guise of reporting on the Journal. Henry finally pushed his newsman badassery to the breaking point when he cut the stamps out of the Gazette's pages in direct violation of the Stamp Act. Henry lost the Gazette printing contract, while Thomas was banished from Halifax.

Meanwhile, Haligonians burned an effigy of the local stamp master on Citadel Hill, while the man himself had to be put under armed guard. But Halifax was unique in that it had spent much of its history as a military base in the war with France. Its civilian population was helplessly outnumbered by the military presence.

Still, by fall of 1776, much of Nova Scotia was in open revolt. At the head of the Bay of Fundy a militia of Nova Scotians besieged Fort Cumberland, the only garrisoned outpost outside of Halifax in Nova Scotia. The rebels nearly succeeded, but lacked ammunition and fell to British reinforcements  Their cause was so popular the captured ringleaders were allowed to "escape" rather than face a politically incendiary execution.

A Nova Scotia delegation travelled to Machias to meet with their American cousins and plot the removal of the British Crown from all of North America. The young congress promised troops and arms, but the American army general nixed the agreement in a letter that would change the course of history:

Camp at Cambridge, Aug. 11, 1775.

Gentlemen,
     I have considered the papers you left with me yesterday. As to the expedition proposed against Nova Scotia by the inhabitants of Machias, I cannot but applaud their spirit and zeal, but I apprehend such an enterprise to be inconsistent with the principle on which the Colonies have proceeded. That province has not acceded, it is true, to the measures of the Congress, but it has not commenced hostilities against them nor are any to be apprehended. To attack it therefore is a measure of conquest rather than defence, and may be attended with very dangerous consequences. It might be easy with the force proposed to make an incursion into the province and over-awe those of the inhabitants who are inimical to our cause, but to produce any lasting effect the same force must continue. And our situation as to ammunition absolutely forbids our sending a single ounce of it out of the camp at present.

I am, Gentlemen, &c.,
George Washington

As Raddall points out, the rub is in the last line. For want of ammunition, the Nova Scotia rebellion was doomed and Canada was saved.

It's hardly a Hollywood story. Our rebellion was crushed while the rest of the rebels left us behind to create their own country. We were basically the kid who didn't get picked at gym class on Independence Day.

But glimpsed in a certain light, Canada's origin story is noble in its own way. Having a long, bloody history has been done. What country hasn't been forged in battle? Even prissy-sounding nations like Luxembourg and Malta have seen dramatic conflicts. But a nation that didn't seize its independence so much as apply for it in triplicate, now that's rare.

Personally, I like having a culture that's defined by ambivalence, introspection, politeness and mild linguistic tension I like that when CBC Radio held a contest to find the Canadian counterpart to "as American as apple pie" the winning entry was "as Canadian as possible, under the circumstances."

And I like that we're generally embarrassed about the imperialistic notes of our history, such as the expulsion of the Acadians or annexation of aboriginal lands. I guess it keeps us modest.

So cheers to Canada and I guess Australia and I dunno, maybe New Zealand. We gained our independence by virtue of no one else wanting us that badly, and that builds character. And sure enough, now all the cool countries are broke.

The True Story of the War of 1812

It was 200 glorious years ago this year that Canada took its first steps to becoming nation when it took up arms against the Americans in the War of 1812 for certain reasons that I imagine are very well explained on Wikipedia.

It was that battle where we defined our Canadianness, except that we were actually British at the time, but it planted the seeds of our emancipation from the Americans. Or the British, rather. Like 60 years later.

Still, I'm told by reliable sources in government that the War of 1812 was "a seminal event in the making of our country." Heritage Minister James Moore has even renamed October the "Month of Commemoration of the Heroes and Key Battles of the War of 1812," so elongate your calendars accordingly.

I've recently been reading Halifax: Warden of the North, the brisk and lively history of Nova Scotia's capital by Thomas Raddall. I couldn't wait to get to 1812 and read about our historic butt-thwomping of the Americans. Instead, I had a revelation. I now think 1812 is nothing compared to a more pivotal moment in Canada's history: The American Revolution.

First, about the 1812:

Historians debate who "started" the War of 1812 but one thing is clear - in the lead-up to the war we were a bunch of assholes.

By 1805 Admiral Mitchell of the Royal navy had come up with a novel recruiting strategy - seizing Americans on the high seas and bringing them into Halifax as seamen on the lower decks.

Raddall:

The captains of His Majesty's fleet, not content with robbing provincial merchantmen of their crews, had begun overhauling American ships and treating them in the same way. The excuse was that many seamen in American vessels were deserters from the Royal Navy. This was true, for impressed men escaped at any chance and the Americans... were able to offer high wages as well as the supposed protection of their flag. [p133]

Tensions simmered until 1807, when the HMS Leopard fired on the Chesapeake. The Chesapeake, a 38-gun, three-masted heavy frigate and one of the "original six" frigates of the United States navy, is still today famous for all the wrong reasons. Several crew were captured, a couple were convicted of mutiny and gruesomely executed.

Back in Washington, the Americans were wicked pissed. Many pushed the government to declare war on Britain while the blokes had their hands full with Napoleon. The Americans first placed an embargo on trade with Europe  - a blow aimed straight at the British army's stomach [p135].

This was actually great for Halifax (population circa 10,000), which had the lucrative role of laundering shipments ostensibly for Nova Scotia but actually destined for Europe. Then in 1811 the Americans got their revenge for the Chesapeake when the US frigate President fired on the British sloop Little Belt without warning, killing 16 men and wounding 21.

Shit was pretty much destined to be on. Sure there were grievances, but more than anything it was about American opportunity. Raddall:

But a real cause for alarm was the ancient truth that weakness invites attack. Canada looked an easy prize while Britain was heavily engaged in Europe, and all the gossip from the United States was of preparations for attack by land and sea. [p138]

...

President Madison chose his moment in June. American armies promptly marched over the border of Upper Canada and a host of Yankee privateers put out into the Atlantic. The first news of war for many a British merchant skipper was the capture of his ship and cargo on the high seas.

It was great timing. Britain had more ships than she could maintain, leaving many under-maintained, under-manned, and under-gunned. The Americans swiftly imposed their presence when the US frigate Constitution ravaged the British frigate Guerriere.

Now it was Britain's turn for revenge, and they went after the ship that had been the spark of the conflict, the Chesapeake. Raddall reports Boston pleasure boats sailing out to watch the battle as the HMS Shannon sailed into Massachusetts to face its rival. The two ships unloaded on each other and the Chesapeake was badly damaged. As the Shannon's crew drew in close to board, Chesapeake captain James Lawrence was cut down by a bullet. Dying, he uttered the famous words "Don't give up the ship!" which would long remain a motto of the American navy.

The entire battle lasted 15 minutes. The Chesapeake was brought back to Halifax as a treasure. A young Tom Haliburton, who would grow up to create the character Sam Slick, was on the waterfront and described the scene:

"The coils and folds of rope were steeped in gore as if in a slaughterhouse... Pieces of skin and pendant hair were adhering to the sides of the ship, and in one place I noticed fingers protruding as if thrust through the outer wall of the frigate; while several sailors, to whom liquor had evidently been handed through the ports by visitors in boats, were lying asleep on the bloody floor as if they had fallen in action and expired where they lay." [p142]

So there's our fix. We got our bloody battle with the Americans, our heroic victory, some token warfare in our otherwise peaceful and almost bureaucratic history.

To pause here for a moment, Raddall's book does not touch the land battles of 1812 except to say that Britain knew they were outmatched and tried to avoid them. But suffice to say the mainland theatre really did play out like a CBC-produced Can-Con feature written and directed by Paul Gross starring Gordon Pinsent and the cop guy from Corner Gas. French, English and First Nations fought side by side, defending our land against American invaders.

(You have to buy the director's cut to see where the British promise Shawnee chief Tecumseh an independent Indian state in the midwest, then later British forces run away in the Battle of the Thames leaving a badly outnumbered group of native soldiers, including Tecumseh, to be slaughtered by American troops. The Treaty of Ghent, the peace treaty that ended the war and restored lands to their original owners, neglected to ratify Tecumseh's vision. Weird.)

But Raddall does give due credit to the man who oddly enough really decided the war of 1812 - Napoleon.

As the British finally overwhelmed Napoleon's forces in Europe they could finally focus most imposing navy the world had ever seen back on North America. The rest was just follow through - a sacking of the White House here, some bombs bursting in air there, and both sides were ready to shake hands and call it a day. All that was left was to swap back conquered lands and Bob's your uncle (again, unless you were a native warrior, in which case best get used to crushing disappointment).

I know, I know. All that buildup and we only "won" because some short French guy lost? Welcome to Canada.

But if you really want close calls, there was an even more precarious moment for Canada a half-century earlier. I'll tackle this in my next blog post, which I will write hopefully sometime.

In the meantime, here's the government's official War of 1812 trailer:

And here's a more honest version: