republican.”
Mackenzie smiled wryly. “Thank you for the ‘ardent.’ That I am. But if you were to read the many back issues of my
Colonial Advocate
, you would see that I have been from the outset a champion of responsible government—whatever form it must take in the particular circumstances of British North America. And even if that form turns out to be republican in nature, it would not necessarily mean any irrevocable break from the mother country. I have admired people like Edmund Burke and David Hume all my life. What we have begged for and then demanded in Upper Canada is that the executive of our government be chosen representatively from members of the Legislative Council and the Legislative Assembly, and that they be accountable in turn to those bodies.”
“But where does that leave the governor?”
“It leaves him in the position of vice-regal. For example, to whom is the prime minister and cabinet of Great Britain responsible?”
“To Parliament.”
“Precisely—and not to King William. But does that arrangement diminish the traditional and residual authority of the monarch? Not a whit. It’s called a constitutional monarchy, and is a uniquely British configuration. That is all we have ever asked for.”
“But if the governor could not govern under instruction from the colonial secretary, this province would become a country of its own.”
“Something like that, eventually and all in good time,” Mackenzie said, somewhat bemused by the drift of the conversation. “And if we are refused that, then … well, an independent republic is always possible.”
And revolution, thought Marc.
“At any rate, Lieutenant, you do see that it is in the interest of my party to have this assassin tracked down and the truth revealed. You have my word that if I hear—from my innumerable sources—any news of this person or any snippet of gossip pertaining to the tragedy, I will inform you personally.”
“Thank you. There is one other thing, sir—the delicate matter of whether Councillor Moncreiff may have had some, ah, personal difficulties—”
Mackenzie chortled. “Sexual intrigue and all that? Low behaviour among the high and mighty?”
“Something of that sort, yes. Naturally his family may be reluctant to discuss such indelicacies, so I was wondering if you, as a journalist, one-time mayor, and long-time resident of the city, if you—”
“Had heard any gossip too salacious to print?”
Marc merely nodded.
“Not a whisper, and I’ve heard plenty over the years, most of it true, alas. That brother-in-law of his, now there’s a man with a peripatetic codpiece, a roué by any other name. But not Langdon Moncreiff.”
Marc’s surprise showed. “The receiver general? But his wife just assured me he was very possessive.”
“As he is. Of her and all his chattel. But especially of her, as it is still her daddy’s money propping up that hypocritical façade and Daddy’s power in the Compact keeping Maxwell in office. One where graft, nepotism, and corruption are the norm, I might add.” Mackenzie looked sadly at Marc in his bright uniform, the feathered shako cap resting confidently in his youthful hands. “You are still young enough, perhaps, not to realize that the innocent perish more often and more tragically than the wicked.”
Marc thought of Crazy Dan but said only, “Thank you, again.”
They shook hands.
At the door of the shop, Mackenzie said, “As a party,we are confident that all the legitimate political and legal means still at our disposal will be sufficient to see justice prevail.”
Suddenly Marc turned and said, “By the way, the governor made a special request of me when he learned I was coming here.”
“And we all know the nature of a governor’s ‘requests,’ don’t we? What is it, lad?”
“Sir Francis is eager to know the name of the correspondent in the
Constitution
who signs himself Farmer’s Friend.”
“Is he, now?”
“He is interested
Mackenzie smiled wryly. “Thank you for the ‘ardent.’ That I am. But if you were to read the many back issues of my
Colonial Advocate
, you would see that I have been from the outset a champion of responsible government—whatever form it must take in the particular circumstances of British North America. And even if that form turns out to be republican in nature, it would not necessarily mean any irrevocable break from the mother country. I have admired people like Edmund Burke and David Hume all my life. What we have begged for and then demanded in Upper Canada is that the executive of our government be chosen representatively from members of the Legislative Council and the Legislative Assembly, and that they be accountable in turn to those bodies.”
“But where does that leave the governor?”
“It leaves him in the position of vice-regal. For example, to whom is the prime minister and cabinet of Great Britain responsible?”
“To Parliament.”
“Precisely—and not to King William. But does that arrangement diminish the traditional and residual authority of the monarch? Not a whit. It’s called a constitutional monarchy, and is a uniquely British configuration. That is all we have ever asked for.”
“But if the governor could not govern under instruction from the colonial secretary, this province would become a country of its own.”
“Something like that, eventually and all in good time,” Mackenzie said, somewhat bemused by the drift of the conversation. “And if we are refused that, then … well, an independent republic is always possible.”
And revolution, thought Marc.
“At any rate, Lieutenant, you do see that it is in the interest of my party to have this assassin tracked down and the truth revealed. You have my word that if I hear—from my innumerable sources—any news of this person or any snippet of gossip pertaining to the tragedy, I will inform you personally.”
“Thank you. There is one other thing, sir—the delicate matter of whether Councillor Moncreiff may have had some, ah, personal difficulties—”
Mackenzie chortled. “Sexual intrigue and all that? Low behaviour among the high and mighty?”
“Something of that sort, yes. Naturally his family may be reluctant to discuss such indelicacies, so I was wondering if you, as a journalist, one-time mayor, and long-time resident of the city, if you—”
“Had heard any gossip too salacious to print?”
Marc merely nodded.
“Not a whisper, and I’ve heard plenty over the years, most of it true, alas. That brother-in-law of his, now there’s a man with a peripatetic codpiece, a roué by any other name. But not Langdon Moncreiff.”
Marc’s surprise showed. “The receiver general? But his wife just assured me he was very possessive.”
“As he is. Of her and all his chattel. But especially of her, as it is still her daddy’s money propping up that hypocritical façade and Daddy’s power in the Compact keeping Maxwell in office. One where graft, nepotism, and corruption are the norm, I might add.” Mackenzie looked sadly at Marc in his bright uniform, the feathered shako cap resting confidently in his youthful hands. “You are still young enough, perhaps, not to realize that the innocent perish more often and more tragically than the wicked.”
Marc thought of Crazy Dan but said only, “Thank you, again.”
They shook hands.
At the door of the shop, Mackenzie said, “As a party,we are confident that all the legitimate political and legal means still at our disposal will be sufficient to see justice prevail.”
Suddenly Marc turned and said, “By the way, the governor made a special request of me when he learned I was coming here.”
“And we all know the nature of a governor’s ‘requests,’ don’t we? What is it, lad?”
“Sir Francis is eager to know the name of the correspondent in the
Constitution
who signs himself Farmer’s Friend.”
“Is he, now?”
“He is interested
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