More Rewriting History

National Capital Committee put up some signage recently to commemorate the 150th anniversary of Ottawa being chosen as the capital in 1857. (Yeah, I missed the memo on that one.) The signs noted Ottawa was initially the capital of the union of Canada West (Ontario) and Canada East (Quebec), a union proposed by Lord Durham in his report of 1841.

Now the NCC has removed the signs for... purification. A pressure group called Imperitif francais does not like Lord Durham. It complained. Bam, Lord Durham has ceased to exist, at least on the NCC historical plaquing. Depressing details here.

And, to change the subject, it's Last Spike day. 122 years ago, Craigellachie, B.C.

Governor General Lansdowne wanted to drive the last spike himself, and he hung about the west for weeks that fall, hoping for the chance. But in the end he was needed in Ottawa -- mostly in case there was a last minute commutation of the death sentence on Louis Riel -- and he had to head back. So it was mostly executives of the railroad company that got to be there.

History of heads on spikes

You can have a revolution without putting the old leader's head on a spike, but it is one of those defining moments that symbolizes an irrevocable change. Charles I in 1649, Louis XIV XVI in 1793, Nicolas II in 1918, Nicolae Ceausescu in 1989, they all did their part to confirm that a real revolution was in progress.

Watching Hosni Mubarak's last telecast last week, I wondered he might be the one who would surrender his head as the symbol of what they are now calling the Arab 1848.

Would Mubarak's apparent determination to hold on at all costs actually keep him in the presidential palace until the mob decideded to storm the gates and ...?  Well, no. The army had other ideas, and Mubarak was gone the next day (though he is apparently still in the country and presumably available for a show trial should some new regime need one.)

The prime candidate now may be Muammar Gadhafi, who for the moment at least looks equally determined to defy the people of Libya to the bitter end, even appearing in public last night to prove he was not in Venezuela.  He too may have an executive jet standing by (Silvio Berlusconi is said to be a friend, not that he is very secure either). But as the tide sweeps across North Africa and the Middle East, you have to wonder if one of these furious and insecure autocrats is going to miscalculate and end up making the revolutionary gesture.

(Image: www.DestinationCreation.com)

Live-blogging the siege of Quebec+250 #24

Thursday, July 26, 1759. The real British army in North America, y’see, is the one commanded by Major General Jeffrey Amherst. This army has been working its methodical way up the Hudson River-Lake Champlain-Richelieu Valley invasion corridor toward Montreal. Compared to it, Wolfe’s bold thrust at Quebec is secondary, and the opposing forces on the western frontier are little more than armed mobs chasing each other around the countryside (a German general staff officer’s famous, probably invented, description of the campaigns of the American Civil War, but more accurate here).

Amherst is methodical. His predecessor got his head handed to him by Montcalm at Carillon/Ticonderoga in August 1758, and Amherst is prepared to sacrifice speed rather than take a chance on anything similar. He’s not in the business of glorious risky ventures. July is nearly over, and he has just returned to the siege of Ticonderoga a few days ago.

The French have no intention of letting their shrinking armies be trapped here. Only a token force remains at the fort they call Carillon. Today they spike the guns, blow up the powder magazine, and retreat northward. So Amherst now has Ticonderoga -- but he has no information on how Wolfe is doing. If Wolfe has to withdraw from Quebec, he reasons, Montcalm will come down the Richelieu like an avenging whirlwind. Amherst determines to hold what he has rather than advancing to ground he may not be able to keep. So he sets to reinforcing Ticonderoga. He will not see Montreal for a year.

Wolfe, meanwhile, has given up on the coast west of Quebec again. Today he scouts along the Montmorency river, and doesn’t much like it. “The opposite bank was entrenched, and so steep and so woody, that it was to no purpose to attempt a passage there.”