Canadian Transport Sourcebook

Chapter I

Early Days

The traveller of the present day is whirled swiftly along over the smooth shining surface of 100-pound steel rails, housed in palatial vestibuled cars by day and night behind a big 220-ton iron horse. The track over which he glides is carefully patrolled, and all dangerous spots well watched and guarded. He will find the most modern railway equipment and civil and even courteous attendants on all the trains. These luxuries are provided by the Canadian Pacific Railway Company, now no doubt the greatest transportation Company in the wide, wide world.

Such perfection was not attained in fifteen years without great cost, much suffering and misery, and, with the loss of many a brave man's life, as I shall attempt to describe, from my own personal experience.

I must hark back to 1871, when, a beardless boy, I first joined the C.P.R. as an Assistant Engineer. As Artemas Ward said, "Them was the halcyon days of youth!" Sir Sandford Fleming, then Mr. Sandford Fleming, was the Chief Engineer of the original Government surveys and I had the honour to serve under him for ten years. The grand idea of a great railway line from ocean to ocean, through an unknown wilderness, across hundreds of miles of undulating plains that were inhabited only by Indians and buffaloes, thence piercing the rocky fortresses of many chains of lofty mountains, was first conceived by Sir John A. Macdonald, but it was Sir Sandford Fleming who had to plan the actual work. He was a Scotchman of the finest type, handsome, rugged as a block of his native granite, determined and sometimes obstinate, but of a kindly disposition to his subordinates and first, last and always, a gentleman. The task imposed upon him as pathfinder for this tremendous trans-continental trail would have overawed most men, but it did not daunt Sir Sandford. He quickly surrounded himself with a large staff, efficient and otherwise, and proceeded to organize the original surveys.

The offices of the Headquarters Staff were located in the old Imperial Barracks on Parliament Hill (totally destroyed by fire in 1874), where the Victoria Monument now stands. Two District Engineers were appointed, Mr. Marcus Smith, M.I.C.E., and Mr. James H. Rowan, C.E., in charge of the Western and Eastern Districts respectively.

Few people, as they lazily and comfortably recline in the luxurious day cars, and sleep peacefully in their snug staterooms at night after a splendid meal in the gorgeous dining cars, can realize what had to be done in those fifteen years before all this was "un fait accompli,"—a phrase that I am told is excellent French in the Province of Quebec. Think for a moment of putting a handful of men into the bush to hack their way through an impenetrable forest,—these men to pack all their supplies and equipment on their backs for many months, far away from all civilization or help. Sickness and often death occurred that could not be reported until some communication could be established with the outside world by an Indian messenger, generally unreliable, or by the appearance of some officer of the Commissariat with fresh supplies. But Sir Sandford was not the kind of man to be easily discouraged or dismayed. He proceeded to organize and intricate organization apparently came naturally to him. he was built that way.

We were formed up in Divisions from A to Z, from East to West, in order to distinguish the different survey parties. The Divisional Engineers received printed instructions signed by the Chief Engineer and also a form of Church Service, I remember, for Sundays, put together specifically by many learned divines of different denominations so that it would suit any old religion, and anybody could worship with anybody else unless he was busy patching his overalls or doing a week's washing.