standards, 52 of the 200 seats were won by acclamation, including 29 Conservative seats. Cartier was defeated, however, despite Allan’s timely infusion of funds. It was no secret that Cartier was unwell, but it was still a shock when he died in 1873. Distraught, Macdonald once again turned to drink for solace. Governor General Lord Dufferin wrote of Macdonald’s heartache over Cartier’s death: “It is really tragical to see so superior a man subject to such a purely physical infirmity, against which he struggles with desperate courage, until fairly prostrated and broken down.”
Not long after the election results were confirmed, rumours began to swirl that huge cash contributions from the railways had found their way into Conservative Party coffers. On April 2, 1873, Lucius Seth Huntington, the Liberal member from Shefford Québec, rose in Parliament to demand an inquiry into the granting of the charter to the Canadian Pacific Railway Company. The mandate for the inquiry was twofold: explore possible American involvement and review financial contributions to the Conservative party from Sir Hugh Allan sourced in Canada and the United States. The Conservative forces defeated the Liberal motion, but proposed in its place a five-member committee of Parliament to look into the matter. With the government holding three positions on the committee, the out come of a majority report was assured.
The press picked up the story, dubbing it the “Pacific Scandal.” On July 18, the Toronto Globe and the Montréal Herald reported the contents of Macdonald’s telegram to Abbott. Macdonald was dumbfounded: How did these telegrams find their way into the hands of the press? “It is one of those overwhelming misfortunes that they say every man must meet once in his life. At first it fairly staggered me,” he said.
In fact, the telegrams had been stolen from Abbott’s office, and sold to Montréal Liberals. The identity of the thief was not confirmed, but was believed to be a law clerk in Abbott’s office named George Norris. As much as Macdonald wanted to draw attention to the skullduggery of the theft, such attention would only have heightened interest and given rise to accusations of a conspiracy. A depressed and despairing Macdonald once again turned to the bottle and when he disappeared for a few days to collect him self, rumours again swirled, this time that he had committed suicide. Macdonald reassured his friends in telegram messages that the rumours were greatly exaggerated. “It is an infamous falsehood,” he wrote. “I never was better in my life.”
Macdonald steadfastly maintained his innocence. Raising funds from companies that conducted business with the government was nothing new. The Canadian Pacific Railway had been promised nothing in the way of government contracts, he was certain, only that Sir Hugh Allan was slotted to become company president. He told his friends not to worry too much about Allan getting rich because, “where he is going his gold coins would melt.” Macdonald did not see the brewing scandal as a matter of concern to the taxpaying public since they would not be paying Allan’s salary. And, ultimately, the government quashed whatever plans it had in the works with Canadian Pacific, including any financial links with the Americans. But to Macdonald’s horror, it turned out that American financiers had been the supporters of Allan’s scheme. The Opposition did not accept the government’s diminishment of the scandal and it refused to attend the Parliamentary committee.
Fearing the loss of a confidence vote, Macdonald secured a temporary suspension of the House of Commons from Governor General Lord Dufferin (a tactic Stephen Harper used in late 2008 to counter a coalition of opposition parties intent on taking over the government). Months later, just as Parliament was about to reconvene, Lord Dufferin wrote to Macdonald, in tone and language the prime minister had not expected: “In acting as you have, I am all convinced that you have only followed a traditional practice and that probably your political opponents have resorted with equal free dom to the same expedients, but as Minister of Justice and the official guardian and protector of the laws, your responsibilities are exceptional and your personal connection with what has passed cannot but fatally affect your position as minister.”
Unclear whether the letter was a dismissal or a warning, Macdonald was stunned by the tone. The word “fatal” leapt off the page. Macdonald met Dufferin the following day, when it was made clear that the governor general was reserving for himself the ability to intervene “. . . to prevent the conscience of Parliament and of the country from being forced by the mere brute strength of party spirit.”
The next day Macdonald met his Cabinet to discuss the controversy and consider the question of resignation. Although some of his members were wavering, Macdonald remained confident and thought he could defend the government in Parliament. At 2:30 a.m., the conclusion of a five-hour speech in the House of Commons, Macdonald made a plea for his government based on its past accomplishments:
I have fought the Battle of Confederation, the battle of Union, the battle of the Dominion of Canada. I throw myself upon the House. I throw myself upon this country, I throw myself upon posterity, and I believe that, notwithstanding the many failings of my life, I shall have the voice of this country in this House rallying around me.... I can see past the decision of this House either for or against me; but whether it be for or against me, I know . . . that there does not exist in this country a man who has given more of his time, more of his heart, more of his wealth, or more of his intellect and power, such as they may be, for the good of this Dominion of Canada.
It was a rousing speech that brought most members on the government side to their feet. But not all, and the defections were enough to undo Macdonald’s working majority. After meeting with the governor general, Macdonald resigned on November 5, 1873.
Alexander Mackenzie, the leader of the opposition Liberals, formed a government and seized the opportunity to capitalize on the Tory demise by going to the people on January 22, 1874. With the Pacific Scandal fresh in voter’s minds, 129 Liberals were elected, compared with 65 Conservatives and 12 independents. In the first Canadian election to use a secret ballot, the Liberal sweep went right across the country.
In the aftermath, Macdonald resigned as party leader, saying, “My fighting days are over . . . I will never be a member of any administration again.” His offer was refused by the Tory caucus. There was a dispute over the election results in his riding, however, and in the by-election held on December 29, 1874, Macdonald squeaked by with a 17vote win. Had nine electors switched their votes, or had his caucus accepted his resignation, Macdonald might never have been a factor in Canadian politics again. But Macdonald knew that a life in politics comes with its ups and downs. “When fortune empties her chamber-pot on your head, smile and say ‘we are going to have a summer shower.’”
Not more than a year into the Liberal administration, Macdonald sensed opportunity. The Blake Liberals and Mackenzie Reformers—the forces that had combined to defeat the Tories in 1874—were coming unglued. Edward Blake began to speak of narrow nationalist sentiments, such as diminishing ties to Great Britain, and opposed accommodations for British Columbia, saying he was “prepared to let them go.” Concerned over finances, Mackenzie opposed proceeding with the transcontinental railroad. Macdonald thought if he was patient and didn’t needlessly provoke unrest it was only a matter of time before the Liberal government would divide itself. “The great reason why I have always been able to beat (the opposition),” offered Macdonald, “is that I have been able to look a little ahead, while (they) could on no occasion forgo the temptation of a temporary triumph.” Politics, he added, “is a game requiring great coolness and an utter abnegation of prejudice and personal feeling.”
Macdonald distinguished his nation-building Conservatives from what he called “little Canadian Liberals.” Macdonald raised the spectre of a growing American empire seeking to fulfill what some called its “manifest destiny.” With British help, Macdonald believed, Canada would build a nation from “ocean to ocean.” The Liberals, by contrast, were weak nation builders because they were not prepared to invest in the infrastructure of a nation. Their focus on the “Pacific scandal” was so small-minded that it arrested progress on the railway itself. Macdonald said he could get the job done: “Until the road is built to British Columbia and the Pacific, this Dominion is a mere geographical expression. . . . until bound by the iron link, as we have bound Nova Scotia and New Brunswick by the Intercolonial Railway, we are not a Dominion in fact.”
Asserting British tradition was