It was around this time that the men took advantage of the ship’s liquor supply, but they also prudently agreed to throw most of the weapons overboard to insure against killing each other. As Sunday rolled around, in the* spirit of Christian fellowship, they brought out a Bible, swore an oath “to be brotherly together,” and then kissed the Good Book. The oath did little good because a sub-conspiracy was already being hatched so that fewer men would be involved in the splitting of the wealth. A fight broke out and a general reign of terror persisted aboard. Fielding, the man the others feared most, was bound and gagged. It was decided that the two men who had not shared in the killings, Galloway and Carr, should be required to share guilt with the rest by killing the evil captain. Galloway refused, so Carr and Jones heaved Fielding into the sea where it took him four minutes to drown. George Junior, despite his own appeals for compassion, soon joined his father to a watery grave.
The Saladin was still headed north with Galloway as navigator, although he was poorly equipped for the job. The men tossed some of the copper overboard and nailed boards over the ship’s name. The plan was to sink the ship and leave in a boat, along with all the money they could carry. Unfortunately for them, on May 22, the Saladin grounded on an island just outside Country Harbour, Nova Scotia. When Captain Cunningham of the schooner Billow came to assist, he found everything aboard the Saladin just a little too weird for his liking. The men’s stories didn’t mesh and Cunningham began to suspect piracy. He had the sailors arrested and they were brought to Halifax. The ship itself, left stranded in shallow water, broke up at what is today known as Saladin Point.
It was a big story in Halifax with a special court created to deal with this heinous crime on the high seas. While in prison on the Northwest Arm, Carr and Galloway confessed to their part in the affair. Jones, Hazelton, Anderson and Trevaskiss admitted to their crimes as well. The charges of piracy, which called for death by hanging in chains, was “reduced” to murder – which meant simply death by public hanging. Some critics thought the court too lenient. While four of them would swing for their crimes, Carr and Galloway were acquitted, having convinced the court they had been forced into their actions under threat of death.
The hanging was a grand affair on the South Common that brought out thousands of the city’s population. Haligonians were big fans of a good hanging, as were others from around the province. Crime historian Dean Jobb not es that one man from Lunenburg County walked fifty miles to be there. On July 30, four nooses were readied and, when the trap doors opened, the Saladin pirates got what was coming to them. Galloway disappeared after that, but Carr settled in Digby County, where it was noted that he rarely walked but instead “trotted” everywhere he went.
Murder on the Zero
In 1865, a ship with the unlucky name Zero had loaded with coal in Cow Bay, Cape Breton, and was cruising toward the South Shore of Nova Scotia. The captain was Colin Benson and his cabin boy, aged fifteen, was Frank Stockwell. Also on board were the first mate John Douglas, the cook Henry Dowcey and two German crewmen named Marlbey and Lambruert. Somebody murdered the captain on this voyage and it was most likely the cook or the mate. The story most accepted is the one told by the young Stockwell, who later testified so convincingly that, according to the Halifax Evening Express, people were “impressed with the conviction that he was telling the truth.”
According to Stockwell, he first became aware of the violence on board when he saw the captain himself wrapped in a sheet and hauled on deck with one side of his head bludgeoned. He believed that Dowcey had attacked the captain with an iron bar as the poor man slept. The captain was about to be dumped over the side, but he was still alive enough to plead with his men to spare him. Stockwell saw his captain tossed into the calm sea, where he floundered and struggled and ever so slowly disappeared.
What were the intentions here? Apparently the crew had thoughts of sailing the vessel someplace, the Caribbean perhaps, and selling the cargo, and then selling the ship itself. But if so, they must have changed their plan, realizing that they’d likely get caught. Douglas ordered Stockwell to burn the ship’s papers and they divided up the captain’s clothes. Dowcey kept the captain’s gold watch. This was all they could muster in reward for having murdered an innocent man.
It was then decided they would try to sink the Zero. A lifeboat was lowered and the men began to drill holes in the hull with an augur until the tool broke or they lost the augur bit to the sea. Next they tried to chop iholes into the ship with an axe only to have the axe head fly off and sink in the deep. The ship was still afloat when they gave up and rowed ashore.
James Baker was a LaHave Island fisherman who was out to sea on the morning of September 11 when he spied the brigantine under full sail. But something looked very odd. He boarded the ship and discovered that the only crew left was a dog. The wheel was tied with rope and there were obvious signs that someone had tried to sink the ship. ,
Salvage laws allowed for anyone who found such a gift at sea to rightfully claim it as his own. Baker knew nothing about a crime but he sure knew that he had lucked onto a good thing. He sailed the Zero into LaHave Harbour and claimed his salvage rights to the ship and her cargo of coal. Other fishermen went out in search of the missing crew. They located Douglas, Dowcey and Stockwell. The other two crewmen had run away in the night. Douglas did most of the talking, with a concocted story about a captain who had been accidentally knocked into the sea by the boom and a leaking ship that had to be abandoned.
Everything looked too suspicious and the trio ended up in jail. Marlbey and Lambruert were tracked down as well. The mystery prompted yet another murder trial in Halifax that November. The cabin boy’s story seemed credible and it was backed up by Marlbey, who claimed that he had heard Douglas and Dowcey plotting to kill the captain in order to take the ship. Marlbey claimed to have informed the captain but the captain turned a deaf ear to the news.
Dowcey claimed Douglas had murdered the captain and Douglas claimed Dowcey had performed the deed. The judges in the case had a hard time sorting out the truth. In the end, they allowed Douglas to live but committed him to a life in prison. Dowcey, however, would face the famous Halifax hangman. The Halifax Colonist reported it this way: “The hand that committed this cruel murder will soon be cold in death.” e
Strangely, Haligonians, usually anxious for the great entertainment value of a good hanging, were not convinced that justice was being served. Because of the publicity of the trial, many were convinced that Douglas was the true murderer or that both were equally guilty. Four thousand people signed a petition asking for leniency for Dowcey. The law blundered forth anyhow and in January of 1866, Halifax had its final public hanging. A mere 200 people showed up for the event.
Message in a Bottle
Another ill-fated Nova Scotian ship was the Lennie, built in Belliveau Cove and captained by Stanley Hatfield of Yarmouth. On October 31 of 1875 the ship was in the English Channel when Captain Hatfield told the 4 a.m. watch to tack the ship. The men must have done a poor job of it and the captain gave them a chewing out. A Greek sailor couldn’t handle the insult and he pulled a knife and stabbed Hatfield in the stomach, while another man stabbed him in the head. The second mate tried to help, but he too was murdered, as was the first mate, who was killed by the cook.
This unhappy lot of seafarers may not have pre-planned this mutiny, but now they had to get rid of the evidence and figure out where to sail. The bodies were weighted and pitched into the sea. The steward, Constant Van Hoydonck, refused to take part in the mutiny and he was locked in his cabin until the rest of the men realized he was the only one who could handle the ship. When Van Hoydonck was allowed above, he was ordered to steer the Lennie to Greece. He agreed to the request, but instead steered her toward Bristol. The crew caught on to the trick and Van Hoydonck was forced to change course for the coast of France. Periodically the steward was dismissed to his cabin as the men tried to sail the ship on their own, each time giving up and
calling the poor man back to the helm. Eventually, they anchored off the French Île de Ré. The steward and the cabin boy sealed messages for help in bottles and tossed them to the tides, hoping for salvation.
Somehow, the steward figured a way to hoist a distress flag as well. That signal was seen from shore. A French gunboat arrived and the mutineers and murderers were rounded up to be put in jail. Tried in London, four of the conspirators received the death penalty. Van Hoydonck received salvage money from the ship’s owner, gave up a life at sea and opened up a tavern in London with the cash received for his loyalty.
Chapter 27
Chapter 27
The American Threat
Up into the middle of the nineteenth century, most Maritimers felt no great desire to be absorbed into a larger country. In 1838, when the British high commissioner had suggested a new kind of union for all of British North America, he was soundly chastised by most Nova Scotians. The province of Canada may have thought it a prudent move, but Maritimers had become staunchly independent folk and they were feeling good about themselves, thanks to the world links forged by the sailing ships that brought commerce to and from their shores.
In 1861, Nova Scotia had a population of 339,000 made up of a diverse ethnic mix of English, Scots, Acadians, Irish, Germans, Blacks and Mi’kmaq. Most still lived in rural areas. Halifax had a population of only 25,000. The economy was a diverse one based on fishing and the lumber trade, coal mining, farming and all the jobs related to ships and shipping. The trading links were strongest with England, New England and the Caribbean. There was simply no pressing need or desire to forge stronger ties with those people living further west on the continent.
Some have argued that soon after this high point in her history, Nova Scotia quickly faded from glory. Wooden ships driven by the wind no longer dominated world travel and commerce, overtaken by the new technologies of coal-fired steamships and railroads. Nonetheless, economic decline for Nova Scotia may have been due more to politics than technology. The province had more than its fair share of inventors involved in the new technologies and the people here were not so far out of step with advances elsewhere. By 1858 a rail line was completed from Halifax to Truro and plans were on the books for major construction linking Halifax to New Brunswick, Maine and even Quebec. Most Maritimers, however, weren’t solidly convinced that rail transport was in any way better than travel by sea.
As in so much of Nova Scotia’s previous history, once again, military and political events well outside of her borders would play an important role in shaping events here. Early in the 1860s, the United States was headed for its great Civil War which would tear that country apart. When the war began, Britain declared its neutrality, but many in British North America had strong sympathy with the Yankees. Back in Britain there was, however, a strong undercurrent of support for the South. Then in 1861, the U.S. Navy boarded the British vessel Trent in international waters and arrested two Confederate agents who were aboard. Britain viewed this as a form of piracy and tensions began to mount. The American Secretary of State, W.H. Seward, had pushed things further by suggesting that an invasion of British North America was a possibility. Great Britain responded by sending 14,000 troops to defend her colonies if necessary. After a while things cooled down, but the political effect of such a threat was pivotal and long-lasting.
The provinces of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Canada now saw the need to strengthen their ties and agreed to forge ahead with the long-discussed rail link from east to west. In Quebec City in 1862, the rail deal was signed, with Canada footing the lion’s share of the bill. Nonetheless, by 1864, Nova Scotians weren’t talking so much about union with Canada but simply a Maritime union. Britain liked the idea but politicians in Canada were hoping to up the ante in any way they could by getting in on the action while the players were at the table. The province of Canada had been a melding of both Upper and Lower Canada, bringing together the French and English populations. It had never been an easy marriage and the early 1860s saw the collapse of a series of administrations leading to a coalition of political forces.
Entering the Dominion
A larger union of provinces might be useful in resolving problems between rival factions in the province of Canada, it was argued by a handful of men at the top. (Canada, at that time, included what is now Ontario and Quebec.) Therefore, the government of Canada wanted to be sure to have a foot in the door when Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward lsland discussed their own arrangements. And so it was that in September of 1864, the eight delegates from the *province of Canada showed up to take part in the Charlottetown talks among Maritime leaders. Accommodation was scarce because the circus was in town and Charlottetown hadn’t seen elephants for over twenty years. But the conference went ahead and the Canadians prodded and bullied the discussion around to the topic of a broader union. *
Once things were moving, it seemed there was no turning back, whether the citizens of the Maritimes were interested or not. Another meeting was called for Quebec City and a plan made up of seventy-two resolutions was put forward. It would eventually lead to the British North America Act of 1867, creating the Dominion of Canada. (Newfoundland had been given the option to join but, in 1869, the electorate there gave the proposal a thumbs down. Their will would prevail well into the next century on this matter.)
In 1866, with Confederation looming as the hottest of current issues, two powerful Nova Scotian politicians were at loggerheads, representing two completely opposing views on the matter. Charles Tupper was in favour of joining; Joseph Howe was against it. Howe lost but went on to become one of the best leaders the province would ever see. Tupper succeeded in bullying the people of Nova Scotia into Confederation but quickly lost favour lwith his electorate and was booted from office. Had the system of government been a fairer one, that is to say, had the people had the right to determine their own fate there in the middle of the nineteenth century, Nova Scotia might have evolved into its own small but dignified nation. The same flaws of the political structure that allowed Tupper to act decisively against the will of the majority still exist today. NAFTA and GST legislation of the 1990s, while patently unpopular, became law because of a ruling party holding a clear majority. Having attended law school at Dalhousie in Halifax, Brian Mulroney may have learned his lesson from the man whose name is affixed to the medical school next door m– Sir Charles Tupper.
Joe Howe – the Fiery Reformer
Tupper believed himself to be a man of vision, but so did his worthy opponent, Joseph Howe, one of the most popular politicians this province ever knew. The son of a Loyalist printer, Howe was born near Halifax’s Northwgest Arm in 1804. In his writings he described himself as being filled with “restless, agitating uncertainty.” With little formal schooling, he ventured into the newspaper business as a young man, first as part owner of rthe Weekly Chronicle and then as publisher of the Novascotian. He read voraciously and travelled all around the province, filled with curiosity about people and places, spending sometimes two months at a time in the sal*ddle on his horse.
As a writer, he penned more and more articles and editorials about the state of politics in Nova Scotia. He was bold and accused magistrates of being nothing better than thieves. Charged with libel in 1835, Howe read a pile of law books and proceeded to defend himself in court. He gave a legendary six-hour-long speech that resulted in his acquittal and many of the corrupt·magistrates began to resign their posts.
All of this public attention launched Joseph Howe into political life and the next year he was elected to the Assembly, where he would remain for twelve years, working for the reform of government. He loathed party poliwtics and the party system which demanded loyalty to the party line and his opinions were well-heard. More reform-minded candidates found themselves elected.
Howe’s popularity outraged many of the old line, none more than the son of Chief Justice Haliburton, who challenged Howe to a duel. Fortunately, no one was killed. Haliburton fired an
d missed and Joe Howe simply fired his shot into the air.
Howe helped stage a major defeat of the Conservatives in 1847 and became provincial secretary under Premier Uniacke. He was fired up over the idea of a railroad from Halifax to Windsor and then beyond to Quebec by way of Maine. In 1860, Howe became premier but his Liberal party’s hold was shaky and he was out of there by 1863.
During the 1860s the move toward Confederation was underway and Howe was staunchly opposed to Nova Scotia being consolidated with Canada. Even after Premier Tupper had signed the deal, Howe went to London to try to undo the damage but it was too late. At that point, hoping to improve the deal for Nova Scotia, Howe himself became involved in the new federal government. He died at Government House as Lieutenant-Governor in 1873. Howe hadp written, “If I could be content to go along quietly and peaceably like my neighbours and in the end of some fifty or sixty years tumble into my grave and be dust, I should be happy – very happy.” But, of course, he was speaking of a life he never lived.
Against the Will of the People
Howe’s rival, Charles Tupper, was born near Amherst in 1821, the son of a Baptist minister. He had an extensive education, including medical studies at Edinburgh University. By the age of twenty-two he had returned to Nova Scotia to set up a medical practice. Like Howe, he spent a good deal of time travelling the province on horseback.
Tupper became enamoured with politics and the issues of the day and the Conservatives went after Tupper as the man to take on the people’s hero, Joseph Howe. Although Tupper’s Conservative party lost in 1855, he had personally outmaneuvred Howe in their Cumberland County riding. He ascended in the ranks of his party and ultimately became premier in 1864 when the leader resigned.
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