Sowing Poison Read Online Free Page A

into one province, but no one had given much thought to the actual mechanics of making it work. Over the intervening five years it had become apparent that neither Upper nor Lower Canada — or Canada West and Canada East, as they were now called — could dominate the provincial assembly. They needed to cooperate, and to a certain extent they did, but no one had defined their responsibilities nor delineated their powers. The assembly had limped along until the arrival the previous year of Sir Charles Metcalfe as governor general, a man who seemed to assume that being a governor meant that he should govern, and that allowing a recently rebellious population to make decisions for themselves was a ludicrous proposition. In spite of this, he had initially attempted compromise with his upstart assembly, going so far as to agree that the rebels of 1837 should be granted amnesty and allowed to return home; but he would make no further concessions to the notion of the province controlling its own affairs.
    The entire assembly had resigned in protest over Governor Metcalfe’s insistence on controlling government appointments. The Province of Canada had responsible government in name only, it seemed, as Metcalfe had simply carried on without these elected representatives until he was sure enough of his ground to call for a new vote. He had trotted out the old bogeyman of “British loyalty” as a campaign platform. Any further handing over of responsibilities to the assembly was, according to Metcalfe, tantamount to disloyalty to the Crown.
    His strategy had worked, especially in Protestant Canada West, but Lewis had been surprised by some of the people who had supported it. Egerton Ryerson, self-appointed Methodist spokesman and editor of The Christian Guardian , had written in defence of the governor, to howls of outrage and general vilification by those who supported reform. Lewis read that Ryerson had now been appointed superintendant of education for Canada West, and wondered if that had been the price put on his support. Lewis had never liked Ryerson, and there were many Methodists, himself included, who often found themselves in disagreement with the man’s opinions. Shaking his head over the chronic chaos of government affairs, he abandoned The Globe and turned instead to the inside pages of the Cobourg Star .
    These were more entertaining by far. One article reported on the recent international cricket match between the United States and the Province of Canada, which took place at the St. George’s Cricket Club in New York. Due to bad weather the match had been extended to three days of play. Lewis read with pleasure that “the British Empire’s Canadian Province” had emerged victorious by a margin of twenty-three runs. Another item detailed some of the many wonders that had been unveiled at the Paris Industrial Exhibition, including a new musical instrument called the baritone saxophone. Its inventor, a Belgian man by the name of Adolphe Sax, intended the new apparatus “to fill the gap between the loud woodwinds and the more adaptable brass instruments” according to the article. Lewis hadn’t realized that such a gap existed, never having heard an orchestra, only a few of the military bands that accompanied British troops in Canada.
    He then became absorbed in an article about General Tom Thumb, a wonder of nature who was featured with Barnum’s American Museum. A perfectly formed child, who at the age of five stood only twenty-five inches high and weighed only fifteen pounds, Tom could sing, dance, and impersonate Napoleon Bonaparte, apparently. His act, along with the Feejee Mermaid, was drawing huge crowds as the exhibit travelled across the United States.
    Wonder or freak, Lewis wasn’t sure, but in any event his enjoyment of the article was interrupted and he never did get the chance to return to it. A horse and wagon had pulled up in front of the hotel and he