Solution Manual for Prentice Halls Federal Taxation

2015 Individuals 28th Edition Rupert Pope

Anderson 013377208X 9780133772081
Full download link at:
Solution manual: https://testbankpack.com/p/solution-manual-for-prentice-
halls-federal-taxation-2015-individuals-28th-edition-rupert-pope-anderson-
013377208x-9780133772081/
Test bank: https://testbankpack.com/p/test-bank-for-prentice-halls-federal-
taxation-2015-individuals-28th-edition-rupert-pope-anderson-013377208x-
9780133772081/
Chapter C:6

Corporate Liquidating Distributions

Discussion Questions
C:6-1 A complete liquidation is defined by Reg. Sec. 1.332-2(c) as one or a series of distributions
made by a liquidating corporation that completely cancels or redeems all of its stock in accordance
with a plan of liquidation. A partial liquidation is defined by Sec. 302(e) as a distribution that (1)
is not essentially equivalent to a dividend (when determined at the corporate level rather than at
the shareholder level) and (2) is pursuant to a plan of liquidation and occurs within the tax year in
which the plan is adopted or within the succeeding tax year. Generally, a partial liquidation
involves the corporation either ceasing to conduct a trade or business (while still continuing to
conduct a second trade or business) or contracting its business activities. In either case, the
corporation remains in existence after the partially liquidating distribution.
A complete liquidation is taxed under Secs. 331 and 336. A partial liquidation is taxed
under Secs. 302(b)(4) and 311. The complete liquidation is taxed to the extent the shareholder
recognizes a gain or loss, which is computed by comparing the FMV of the property received to
the adjusted basis of the stock redeemed. When the shareholder receives a series of liquidating
distributions, the distribution is taxed once the FMV of the property received exceeds the adjusted
basis of the stock held. All basis is recovered first before the shareholder recognizes any gain. A
partial liquidation results in exchange treatment for a noncorporate shareholder under Sec.
302(b)(4). A corporate sharehoolder is eligible for exchange treatment only if the distribution
qualifies as an exchange under the stock redemption rules of Secs. 302(b)(1)-(b)(3). The
shareholder recognizes a loss only when he or she receives the final liquidating distribution. pp.
C:6-3 through C:6-10.

C:6-2 By being an LLC, Summitt can avoid the corporate income tax. Other tax-related reasons
for being an LLC include avoiding the shareholder-level tax on C corporation distributions, and
passing the entity’s losses through to its shareholders. Making the change from a C corporation to
an LLC requires the corporation be liquidated. The IRC imposes a tax at the corporate level and
again at the shareholder level as the corporation distributes assets to the shareholders and the

Copyright © 2015 Pearson Education, Inc.

C:6-1
corporation’s existence terminates. The shareholders incur no tax when they contribute the assets
to the LLC. Similar corporate and shareholder level taxes would be imposed if the shareholders
contributed the Summitt stock to the partnership and then the corporation liquidated into the
partnership. The entity would not incur the tax costs of liquidating a C corporation had the business
initially been formed as an LLC (instead of a C corporation). If instead, the corporation elected S
corporation status, it would incur no tax upon the election. However, it might incur a tax on built-
in gains if it sells assets within ten years of the election (see Chapter C:11). p. C:6-2.

C:6-3 The cost of a corporate formation transaction usually is quite low because Sec. 351 permits
appreciated property to be transferred to a corporation with no gain being recognized except to the
extent the shareholder receives boot property. The shareholders generally recognize no loss on a
corporate formation transaction even if they receive boot property. On the other hand, a liquidating
corporation recognizes gain or loss on its noncash property distributions unless certain exceptions
apply. The shareholders also recognize gain or loss upon receiving liquidating distributions in
exchange for their stock. One common exception to the gain recognition requirement occurs when
a corporation forms a controlled subsidiary corporation and then subsequently liquidates the
corporation. In this situation, Secs. 332 and 337 permit both the liquidating corporation and its
parent corporation to avoid recognizing gain or loss on the liquidation. pp. C:6-2 and C:6-3.

C:6-4 Liquidation status continues from the time the plan of liquidation has been formally or
informally adopted until the corporation ceases to be a going concern or until it has divested itself
of all its property. Dissolution is a legal term that implies the corporation has surrendered the
charter it originally received from the state. A corporation generally may complete its liquidation
prior to undergoing dissolution. Dissolution may never occur if the corporation retains its charter
to protect its corporate name from being acquired by another party. pp. C:6-3 and C:6-4.

C:6-5 Ordinary dividend distributions require the distributing corporation to recognize gain (but
not loss) when distributing noncash property as a dividend. The shareholder reports dividend
income equal to the FMV of the property distributed when the distribution comes from earnings
and profits (E&P). Stock redemptions also require the distributing corporation to recognize gain
(but not loss) when distributing noncash property. The shareholder reports either dividend income
or capital gain depending on the nature of the redemption transaction. The shareholder reports
capital gains when the exchange provisions of Secs. 302(b)(1)-(4) apply. Complete liquidations
require the distributing corporation to recognize gain or loss when distributing noncash property
unless one of a series of limited exceptions applies to loss recognition. The shareholder reports a
capital gain or loss equal to the difference between the FMV of the property distributed and the
shareholder’s adjusted basis for the distributed property. pp. C:6-2 and C:6-3, and Chapter C:4.

C:6-6 A shareholder who uses the accrual method reports the gain or loss using accrual concepts,
i.e., the shareholders recognize gain or loss when all the events have occurred that fix the amount
of the liquidating distribution and when the shareholders are entitled to receive the distribution
upon surrender of their shares. A shareholder who uses the cash method reports the gain when he
or she has actually or constructively received the liquidating distribution. p. C:6-6.

C:6-7 A shareholder may prefer capital gain treatment to offset capital losses recognized in the
same year or an earlier year and which carryover to the liquidation year. Recognition of capital

Copyright © 2015 Pearson Education, Inc.

C:6-2
gains on a liquidation can permit the recognition of previously unrealized capital losses and reduce
the tax cost of making the liquidation. Net capital gains recognized by an individual shareholder
are taxed at a preferential capital gains rate. Ordinary loss treatment is preferable to capital loss
treatment due to the $3,000 loss limitation on capital losses that applies to an individual
shareholder. This low limitation does not apply to an ordinary loss (e.g., one recognized under Sec.
1244 and limited to $50,000 generally or $100,000 for taxpayers filing a joint return). Ordinary
losses can be carried back or forward as part of the shareholder’s NOL. p. C:6-6.

C:6-8 Generally, no. In most cases, the results of the two alternatives are the same. If the
corporation sells its assets, it recognizes gains and losses (Sec. 1001), pays its taxes, and distributes
the remaining cash to its shareholders, who in turn recognize gain or loss on the distributions. If
instead the corporation distributes its assets directly to the shareholders, the corporation still
recognizes gain or losses as if it sold its assets (Sec. 336(a)). The corporation then pays its taxes
and distributes the remaining assets to its shareholders. The FMV of the distributed assets should
be the same amount as the distributed cash under the first alternative. Thus, the shareholders
recognize the same gain or loss. Because the shareholders take a FMV basis in the distributed
assets (Sec. 334(a)), they recognize no further gain or loss upon selling the assets. The results
could differ, however, if the corporation is subject to loss limitations under Sec. 336(d) upon the
distribution of property to certain shareholders. The Sec. 336 limitations do not apply to direct
sales by the corporation to outside third parties. Note: A property’s basis may have been reduced
under Sec. 362(e)(2) upon contribution to the corporation, which would reduce a realized loss upon
a subsequent sale or distribution. pp. C:6-5 through C:6-10.

C:6-9 A liquidating corporation does not recognize gain or loss under four circumstances. These
are:
1. Liquidation of a subsidiary corporation - The liquidating corporation recognizes no
gain or loss on liquidating distributions made to a parent corporation who owns at least 80% of the
subsidiary’s stock.
2. Distributions to minority shareholders - The liquidating corporation recognizes
gain but not loss on liquidating distributions made to minority shareholders when the Sec. 332
nonrecognition rules apply to the parent corporation.
3. Distributions to related persons - Loss recognition is disallowed when the
liquidating corporation makes a distribution to a related person, as defined in Sec. 267(b), if (1)
the distribution is not pro rata or (2) the property distributed is disqualified property. Disqualified
property is property acquired by the corporation in a nontaxable Sec. 351 formation or as a capital
contribution during the five-year period ending on the distribution date or property having an
adjusted basis that carries over from a disqualified property.
4. Sales having a tax-avoidance purpose - Loss recognition is restricted where
property is transferred to the corporation in a Sec. 351 transaction or capital contribution after a
date two years before the date that the corporation adopts a plan of complete liquidation. Tax
avoidance is presumed in these situations unless the corporation uses the property in its trade or
business.
Note: A property’s basis may have been reduced under Sec. 362(e)(2) upon contribution
to the corporation, which would reduce a realized loss upon a subsequent sale or distribution.
A situation encountered less often involves distributions or sales of a subsidiary corporation’s
stock. A corporation can elect under Sec. 336(e) to treat the sale, exchange, or distribution of a
Copyright © 2015 Pearson Education, Inc.
C:6-3
subsidiary’s stock as a taxable disposition of all the subsidiary’s assets, resulting in no gain or loss
being recognized on the sale, exchange, or distribution of the stock. pp. C:6-6 through C:6-10, C:6-
12,
and C:6-13.

C:6-10 Under Sec. 336(b), the FMV of Kelly Corporation’s distributed property cannot be less
than the amount of the liability assumed or acquired by the shareholder. Therefore, the
corporation’s recognized gain or loss is determined by comparing the amount of the assumed
mortgage to the basis of the land. Under a strict interpretation of Secs. 336(b) and 334(a), the
shareholder of the liquidated corporation will take a basis for the distributed property equal to its
actual FMV. Some tax commentators, however, believe that the shareholder should take a basis
equal to the liability assumed or acquired. pp. C:6-7 and C:6-8.

Copyright © 2015 Pearson Education, Inc.

C:6-4
C:6-11 Congress enacted the Sec. 332 liquidation rules to permit a nontaxable liquidation of a
subsidiary corporation into its parent corporation. These rules allow a corporation to form a
subsidiary corporation tax-free under Sec. 351, operate the subsidiary corporation for a period of
time, and then liquidate the subsidiary corporation tax-free back into its parent corporation and
continue to operate it as a division within the parent corporation’s shell. The Sec. 332 rules also
would apply if the parent purchased the subsidiary stock from a third party and subsequently
liquidated the subsidiary. In either case, the subsidiary’s business remains in corporate form. If
the general Sec. 331 liquidation rules applied to the subsidiary’s liquidation, the parent corporation
might be deterred from liquidating the subsidiary corporation because of the potential taxable gains
upon liquidation. pp. C:6-10 and C:6-11.

C:6-12 Three requirements must be satisfied to have the Sec. 332 rules apply to a corporate
shareholder. These are:
1. The parent corporation must own (a) at least 80% of the total combined voting
power of all classes of stock entitled to vote and (b) 80% of the total value of all classes of stock
(other than certain nonvoting preferred stock issues) for the period beginning on the date of
adoption of the plan of liquidation and ending upon receipt of the subsidiary corporation’s assets.
2. The distribution of the property must be in complete cancellation or redemption of
all the subsidiary corporation’s stock.
3. Distribution of the property must (a) occur within a single tax year or (b) be one of
a series of distributions completed within three years from the close of the tax year during which
the first of the series of liquidating distributions is made. p. C:6-11.

C:6-13 a. The Sec. 331 general liquidation rules require the distributee corporation’s entire
realized gain or loss to be recognized. Section 332, however, does not permit either a realized gain
or loss to be recognized.
b. The Sec. 336 general liquidation rules require the distributing corporation to
recognize any gain or loss when distributing its assets pursuant to a complete liquidation. The
recognized gain or loss is determined as if the distributing corporation sold the assets for their
FMV immediately preceding the distribution. Section 337 does not require the recognition of gain
or loss by a subsidiary corporation when a distribution of assets to its parent corporation occurs.
The subsidiary, however, recognizes gain (but not loss) under Sec. 336(d)(3) when it distributes
assets to minority shareholders.
c. The Sec. 334(a) general liquidation rules require the basis of the assets in the
distributee corporation’s hands to be stepped-up or down to their FMV. Section 334(b)(1) requires
the distributee corporation in a Sec. 332 liquidation to use the same basis that the liquidating
corporation had for the assets prior to the liquidation.
d. The tax attributes of the distributing corporation disappear under the general
liquidation rules. Section 381(a) requires a distributee corporation to assume the tax attributes of
a subsidiary corporation in a Sec. 332 liquidation. pp. C:6-5 through C:6-14.

C:6-14 No Sec. 332 treatment. The liquidation fails to qualify for nonrecognition treatment under
Sec. 332, because Subsidiary Corporation made no liquidating distribution to Parent Corporation,
its shareholder. Parent recognizes an ordinary loss for its investment in Subsidiary under the
special Sec. 165(g)(3) worthless security rules. Tracy recognizes a capital loss to the extent of her
investment under the Sec. 331 general liquidation rules. However, Tracy may recognize an
Copyright © 2015 Pearson Education, Inc.
C:6-5
Another document from Scribd.com that is
random and unrelated content:
already subject to a lien for the former loan, but the Government, besides
a few minor concessions, finally allowed the Directors to issue
$35,000,000 stock, of which it was to guarantee $20,000,000, the rest to
be issued by the Railway Directors. Stephen went to London, not very
hopefully, to sell this bond issue. The Directors in Canada waited
anxiously to hear the result, for the bankruptcy of the road and of the
Directors (though they cared less for that) was only hours away if
Stephen’s mission failed. Sir Charles Tupper, then High Commissioner
for Canada in London, that steadfast friend of the road, had done some
most effective preparatory work with the famous banking house of the
Barings, of which Lord Revelstoke was the head. Stephen had scarcely
begun his explanation of the situation when Lord Revelstoke broke in
and said, “We have been looking into the whole matter already. We are
satisfied with the outlook in Canada and the future of the Canadian
Pacific Railway, and will take over the whole issue of your stock at
ninety-one.” Stephen was overjoyed, because the question of the
solvency of the great railway was settled for all time. He sent an exultant
cable at once to Canada. Mr. Angus and Mr. Van Horne were in the
Board Room in Montreal when it was delivered. They read it with a sort
of glad surprise too deep for words. They were matter-of-fact men, but
they shook hands with some emotion. Then they threw some of the
chairs about and danced around the room. The relief to the tension had
come and they had to relax somehow. They were human.
They knew in that hour that the road would be completed. And out
along the line in the great mountains there would be a station called
Revelstoke. And where the steel met from the East and the West, there
would be another station named “Craigellachie,” after the Gælic
cablegram meaning “stand fast,” which Stephen, as we have already
recorded, had sent to his cousin, Donald A. Smith (Strathcona), in the
dark days some years before. The name would remind succeeding
generations of the men whose steadfastness was like unto that of
Craigellachie, the unshaken rock in the old glen of Strathspey.
 CHAPTER XI
Ocean to Ocean

A have followed the story of railway construction across the

continent, over the North Shore, athwart the vast plains and on into
the mountains, our eyes have been on the Western sea. It was to win and
hold the illimitable spaces of the North-West that the Canadian Pacific
was first conceived, and it was specially to link up British Columbia with
her sister Provinces to the east that the iron horses were being driven on
steel trails to drink on the sunset shore of Canada.
But we must always keep in mind the fact that this railway was to be
transcontinental in its extent, and that it was down by the Atlantic, first
of all, that men who saw visions and dreamed dreams forecasted its great
destiny by land and sea. They saw it spanning the continent, continuing
across the Pacific, and finally, under one system, girdling the globe.
Others, earlier, made conjectures and expressed vague hopes, but the
most clear and confident note of prophecy was sounded by Joseph Howe
at Halifax, in 1851, in the famous speech quoted in our first chapter.
Later, in the old Province of Quebec, where in a sense Confederation
was first definitely outlined at the Conference of the Fathers of
Confederation in 1864, this prophetic note was taken up and rendered
more emphatic. Thus were the Atlantic statesmen planning ahead.
Moreover, it is interesting to recall that it was Mr. Sanford Fleming,
the engineer of the Intercolonial, peculiarly an Atlantic Railway, who
was called on to explore a railroad way to the Pacific. It was his
secretary on that expedition, the brilliant and versatile Rev. (later
Principal) George Munro Grant, then of Halifax, who made the
expression “Ocean to Ocean” current coin in Canada, by publishing a
book under that title. And still another Halifax writer, Robert Murray,
immortalized the expression, by composing a remarkable hymn with the
same designation. Thus were the oceans early linked prophetically by
patriotic seers and mystics.
Just now I am looking at the realization of these dreams as portrayed
in a unique picture which ought to be found on the wall of every school
in Canada. This picture is commonly called “Driving the last spike,” and
to the superficial observer, unacquainted with the history of the Canadian
Pacific, it means simply the act of joining together the steel rails which
met at a given point in the mountains, as the track-layers, working from
East and West, finished their protracted task. But, in reality, it means
much more than a single isolated act along the progress of the years. It is
a composite deed into which is merged and concentrated a long series of
astonishing achievements wrought by men of brain and brawn. It
represents many mental, moral and physical forces converging into a
climax which could only have been attained by the persistent,
determined efforts of those who believed that obstacles are thrown in
life’s pathway in order that men may wax strong through the overcoming
of them.
In this picture, “Driving the Last Spike,” there is nothing to suggest
“the shouting of captains and garments rolled in blood.” But for those
who will study and enquire, it holds the story of victory snatched from
the jaws of defeat, by a gallant constructive army whose mission was not
to destroy but to build, for the welfare of a nation and lands beyond its
borders. That is why I say it should be on the walls of our schoolrooms,
in order that teachers might relate to young Canadians the story of an
amazing accomplishment on the fields of peace.
Just how amazing and how dangerous was the task of building
through certain parts of the mountains, not far from the scene portrayed
in the picture, may be gathered from the experiences of the engineering
staff. As I am writing I recall that Mr. Noel Robinson, a Vancouver
newspaper man who deserves much credit for his work in connection
with the work of old-timers, elicited once from Mr. Henry J. Cambie,
who put the road through the Fraser River canyons, a few words on the
subject. Mr. Robinson says: “In response to some pressure as to the
difficulty of laying out the work—apart altogether from the difficulties
of construction—Mr. Cambie admitted that these were great. Mr. Cambie
spoke particularly of the Cherry Bluffs section, and said that quite a
stretch of it was laid out by a few men, as there was only room for a few
to work. Two agile men, with experience on sailing vessels, sprung ropes
from rock to rock or from tree to tree. Then a few engineers, steadying
themselves with these ropes, went along in their bare feet to lay out the
work, with a precipice and then Kamloops Lake, of unknown depth,
down below them. Mr. Cambie admitted that he was one of these
engineers. One of the engineers, Mr. Melchior Eberts, in 1881, while
climbing over a bluff covered with snow and ice, slipped and fell head
first down a steep slope, to his death.” Speaking of the difficulties, Mr.
Cambie went on to say: “We had to increase the curvature beyond
anything we had ever seen up to that time on a main line of railway, and
in order to get round the face of some of the bluffs we had to construct
what we called grasshopper trestles, that is, trestles with long posts on
the outside, standing on steps cut in the rock, and on the other side a very
short post, if any, because very often we had half a road-bed. These
things have since been done away with and their places taken by
retaining walls.” In my own conversation with Mr. Cambie he has
spoken to me feelingly about the loss of life through the canyons of the
Fraser during construction days. Practically all the work was through
rock which had to be dynamited in places where it was very difficult to
get shelter when shots were fired. Men were drowned also here and there
along the river. Thus again we are reminded that this battle in time of
peace was only won, like other battles, by great sacrifice. These are
things we must never forget when we enjoy the results of the struggles of
others in our own or earlier days.
The spot at which the last spike was driven was named Craigellachie,
as already intimated. The story of the name has not always been
correctly told in this connection, beyond saying that the word was sent as
a cablegram from Stephen to his fellow-directors in a crisis hour to
encourage them not to give way, though the position seemed hopeless at
the time. The expression is in reality not one word, but two, Craig
Ellachie. This was the name of a grey rock in a Scottish glen, the home
of a famous clan. And the legend is that when the clansmen went forth to
war, the windswept pines and heather on the lonely hilltop whispered to
the forth-going men the war-cry “Stand Fast, Craig Ellachie.” And now,
in a new land, at a place where rails met through the steadfast persistence
of these Scottish men and others, the mountains heard the echoing blow
of the hammer which is in the forefront of the picture, “Driving the Last
Spike.” Contrary to a general impression, created by the importance of
the occasion and by some writers, the last spike was not of gold, but iron,
like the other millions of them that had been driven all along the line.
The event itself was so intensely dramatic that it needed not any
conventional setting to give it éclat. Mr. Van Horne, who was not
disposed to waste in any case, perhaps felt that iron was more significant
of the spirit in which determined men had accomplished the apparently
impossible. And so he had said in a matter of fact way, which was in
itself abundantly thrilling: “The last spike will be as good an iron spike
as there is between the two oceans, and any one who wants to see it
driven will have to pay full fare.” The Directors who had passed through
the fierce fire of the economic struggle to build the road could not afford,
without a sort of sacrilege, to have anything conventional to bring people
from the ends of the earth for the occasion. There was grim, but splendid,
simplicity about the ceremony that was profoundly appropriate under all
the circumstances.
It was on November 7th, 1885, that the rails met in the Eagle Pass
section of the road, and a group of men alighted from the train to be
present when the last spike would be driven. By general concensus of
opinion, the hammer to drive it was placed in the hands of Donald A.
Smith. It was a great honour, but worthily bestowed on the white-haired
veteran and victor in a hundred fights against obstacles. It was a far cry
from the little village of Forres, in Morayshire, to the way station of
Craigellachie in the mountains of Canada. But Donald A. Smith, the lad
who had left Forres with all his worldly possessions in a carpet bag, and
endured cold and snow-blindness in the Labrador till he rose to the
higher places in the Hudson’s Bay Company, had now come to stand on
Canada’s pioneer transcontinental steel trail and drive the spike that
would link up, into a true Confederation, the scattered Provinces of the
Dominion.
Mr. Smith had not done much manual labour in recent years. But he
was no stranger to physical toil. While in Labrador he had run with his
dog trains in winter, and in summer cultivated an astonishing garden and
farm, which was a surprise to all who visited the bleak locality. So,
despite the years that had elapsed since that time, Smith swung the
sledge hammer with a will that day, and the iron spike was driven home
to forge a new link of Empire. I have been listening in imagination to the
echoes of the hammer-blow through the passes and along the mountain
sides, and thence around the seven seas of the Empire. For this was a
right royal event, which evoked swift messages from good Queen
Victoria, the Marquis of Lorne, and many others who recognized the
enormous Imperial significance of what had taken place in the heart of
the great mountains under the Red Cross flag. And the day would come
when a great war was to break suddenly over the face of the world. In
that day of the Empire’s danger she would realize, even more vividly, the
value of this Canadian transcontinental road which, by the time of that
war, had transformed the Middle West of Canada from a wilderness into
a vast storehouse of food supplies. In that day of war the Canadian
Pacific would transport by land and sea hundreds of thousands of
soldiers and labourers to the sphere of conflict, and, from its own
employees, would furnish for the safety of the Empire not only a large
quota of fighting men, but some of the most expert railway builders and
transportation officers in the world. All this was wrapped up potentially
in the thrilling incident of driving the last spike at Craigellachie.
So once more I look at the picture. The camera could not take in a
large group, but it is representative in some fair degree of the men who
made the event of that day possible. Tracklayers and sectionmen,
engineers and contractors, superintendents and Directors, and others,
were present, for they all had a share in the victory. Some of them I can
pick out in the crowd; others are to me unknown. Some one, whose face
is hidden by a bystander, is holding Donald A. Smith’s overcoat, for the
veteran had taken it off in order to swing the hammer in workmanlike
fashion. The tall figure of Mr. Sandford Fleming, his beard and hair
white with the snows that never melt, is conspicuous near the
foreground. He will be remembered as the engineer-in-chief who blazed
the way through the mountains in the early days, and who, though not
then on the staff as engineer, was called from the Old Country in 1883 to
help in finding a way through the Selkirks. After retiring from the
engineering staff he became a Director of the Company and so remained
to the end of a distinguished and highly useful life. Other engineers
whom I see in the group are Marcus Smith, a quite remarkable man who
had general charge of the Coast section; Major Rogers, the famed finder
of Roger’s Pass through the Selkirks; and Henry J. Cambie, who put the
railway through the Fraser River canyons, one of the most picturesque,
but one of the most difficult, portions along the line. Van Horne did not
always love the engineers, whose care in location did not entirely chime
in with his ideas of speed in building. But after letting them know his
mind in emphatic language, he recognized the sphere of their
responsibility, and, after discussing other possible ways, let them have
their way if they made out a case. The three above named were near
enough to be present at Craigellachie on that eventful day, but they
represented a band of very gallant men in the same vocation—men who
often ventured their lives in the dangerous places they were
investigating. Representing the contractors, who were a legion, we find
in the group James Ross, who had much building to do in the mountain
section, and who had witnessed many difficulties in dealing with a large
army of men of many nationalities. Generally speaking it can be said that
the contractors gave themselves with enthusiasm to their work, and the
Canadian Pacific was the training school for a host of young Canadians
in the business of railway building. In after years many of these men
became famous in railway work. Their ambitions, begotten and
intensified by their experience on the pioneer transcontinental road, led
them into very large enterprises of their own in the same line. Some of
their undertakings were premature, in view of Canada’s population, but
some day they will enure to the benefit of the country.
While speaking of the contractors, one would like again to say
something of the thousands of track and tunnel men, represented at
Craigellachie that day by the hundred or two on that section at the time.
Their lot had not been easy as they toiled on through summer’s heat and
winter’s cold. Every effort was made to the end that they should be well
fed and sheltered, where possible, but certain hardships which were
inevitable were for the most part cheerfully borne. In the dark days they
had to wait for their pay, that being true of all the employees at times.
But these men had faith in the big enterprise and took their share of the
hard times, saying, as did one business man on the North Shore, who had
several thousands coming to him for supplies, “Van Horne will put this
thing through and I will wait.” This was showing a good spirit; albeit we
ought to remember that the men who were undergoing the most terrific
strain were the Directors, who had not only pledged all their private
means, but were facing at times the peculiarly unbearable possibility of
the whole vast undertaking crumbling into failure before their eyes.
Two of the Directors, Mr. Sandford Fleming and Mr. Harris, appear
in the group when the last spike was driven, and behind them stands Mr.
John H. McTavish, one of the famous family connected with the
Hudson’s Bay Company through many years. Just within that circle in
the picture stands a little boy with his neck craned to see the veteran
nailing the steel to a tie. He was the water boy who carried drink for the
men as they toiled on the road. I sometimes wonder what became of that
boy who had the rare privilege of looking on when this extraordinary
event in Canadian history took place. He was witnessing what might be
called the birth of a nation.
With hands in the pockets of his overcoat, in a characteristic attitude,
and apparently gazing intently at the hammer and spike, stands the
strong, powerful figure of Mr. Van Horne, the general who had reached
his objective after a desperate battle. His favourite type of square-
crowned hat is pulled well down, and his whole posture suggests
determined strength. His face, withal, has a dreamy cast, and one would
give more than the proverbial penny for his thoughts. His mind, no
doubt, was dwelling on the struggle through which he had fought for
four tremendous years. But he was doubtless also looking into the future.
No one knew so well as he did, that though, in one sense, the road was
completed, there was another sense in which it had only begun. Many
improvements and extensions were still to be made, branch lines and
double tracks were to be laid, traffic had to be developed, the land had to
be peopled and the obligations of the road, incurred for bringing it to the
last spike, had to be met. But it is a striking thing to recall that the total
indebtedness of the Company to the Government was met within a year
of the opening of the road, and that the Company has never had to ask
the Government for a dollar since that time. The road was to prosper
immensely, and the man who, in some trepidation, had written this same
Van Horne in the darkest days, as to the Company’s securities, and got
the laconic telegram, “Sell your boots and buy C. P. R. stock,” did well if
he accepted the advice.
Men who were present at Craigellachie when that last spike was
hammered home, tell us that for a while after the sound of the blows
ceased there was absolute silence. The few hundreds who had the
privilege of being there seemed, in a sense, stunned by the enormous
significance of the event. Then some one gave a shout—perhaps it was
that little “water boy,” because it is like what a boy would do—and then
the mountains echoed with a perfect frenzy of cheering, that continued
for minutes, breaking out again and again. Mr. Van Horne was called on
by the crowd for a speech. Without changing his attitude and with his
eyes still upon the junction of the rails, the great railroader said simply
and quietly, “All I can say is that the work has been well done in every
way.” It was a short speech, but it was a profound tribute to everybody
who had taken part in this colossal enterprise. Directors, officials,
contractors, navvies, teamsters, stonecutters, bridge builders, train men,
telegraph operators and all the rest were embraced in this terse, but
heartfelt, and richly-deserved eulogium. And the conductor had a
splendid conception of a climacteric moment when he shouted “All
aboard for the Pacific,” and the train took its swift way down to the
Western sea. Two centuries had gone by since daring British explorers
had essayed in vain to go across the North American continent by some
hitherto undiscovered waterway to the Pacific. They were amongst the
famous forerunners of the gallant and able men who had now, after
amazing endeavour, laid the steel across prairie and mountain where not
many years before hunters and trappers, by packhorse, snowshoe, travois
or wooden cart, had broken adventurous trails. Thus there had now been
opened up a new Empire, whose enormous extent and productive
capacity would make it one of the wonders of the world and the Mecca
for millions of the human race.
Regular passenger service was not inaugurated till the following
spring, the first through train reaching Port Moody in June, 1886, and
Vancouver in May, 1887. Port Moody was the statutory terminus, but the
extension to Vancouver was inevitable, although Port Moody real estate
owners naturally threw every obstacle in the way of the railway going
farther. Vancouver had been swept by the great fire in 1886, but the
courageous inhabitants started to rebuild and there were probably two or
three thousand people, under the leadership of the first mayor, Mr.
Malcolm A. MacLean, to greet the first train with rousing cheers and an
address. It was a great day for Vancouver. A generation has since grown
up which does not fully understand, because it does not know. But the
people who know the story of the fire-swept area of rocks and blackened
stumps into which the first Canadian Pacific train rolled that day, thirty-
seven years ago, bringing in with it the dawn of a new day, do not forget.
It linked the cold ashes of the new townsite to the throbbing power of
Eastern Canada, and put a new name on the map where Orient and
Occident looked each other in the face across the Pacific. It is rather a
striking coincidence that I am writing these words on the 23rd of May,
the anniversary of the arrival of the first Canadian Pacific Railway train
in Vancouver in 1887. And on this day, in this Year of Grace 1924, the
Empress of Canada, one of the Company’s great steamships, has just
come back to this West Coast after a five months’ voyage around the
globe. The space of time between is brief, considered as a span in
history, but in that time the Canadian Pacific has not only covered the
Dominion in all directions with its steel trails, but has compassed all the
oceans with her floating palaces.
That day in May, 1887, the prominent officials of the road on the
Pacific Division were the heroes of the hour—a group of able and
reliable men—Messrs. Harry Abbott, Richard Marpole, W. F. Salisbury,
Henry J. Cambie, D. E. Brown, George McL. Brown, H. Connon, Lacy
R. Johnson, A. J. Dana, with a faithful band, the forerunners of the
present host, in their employ.
As I am writing this paragraph on the eve of May 24th, the
anniversary of the birth of good Queen Victoria, of immortal memory, it
is fitting to note the following fine letter from the Marquis of Lorne to
the Canadian Pacific authorities: “The Queen has been most deeply
interested in the account which I have given her of the building of your
great railway, the difficulties which it involved and which have been so
wonderfully surmounted. Not one Englishman in a thousand realizes
what those difficulties were; but now that the great Dominion has been
penetrated by this indestructible artery of steel, the thoughts and
purposes of her people, as well as her commerce, will flow in an
increasing current to and fro, sending a healthful glow to all the
members. The Princess and I are looking forward to a journey one day to
the far and fair Pacific.” It was in keeping with the idea running through
this letter that the Queen conferred a baronetcy on President George
Stephen and a knighthood on Mr. Donald A. Smith. And out in the great
mountains which these two Scottish men so wonderfully helped to pierce
with the steel trail, there are monuments to them in the cathedral peaks,
Mount Stephen and Mount Sir Donald, “More enduring than brass.”
Since that day in 1887 there have been, as the Marquis of Lorne’s
letter prophesies, a constant succession of most distinguished travellers.
The princes of our own Royal line, including our present gracious King
and the present Prince of Wales; noblemen, statesmen, scientists,
novelists, poets, soldiers, sailors, missionaries and others of world-wide
fame, have passed and repassed over this iron highway, entranced and
amazed at the richness, the fertility, the resources and the incomparable
scenery of the country. Volumes could not record their praise for the
country, for the travelling accommodation and for that courtesy and
considerateness by employees for which the Canadian Pacific is known
the world over. It has always been the aim of the road to see that
children, ladies, old and feeble people, can travel alone with the utmost
safety and comfort, and the testimony of travellers is that this tradition is
steadily maintained under all circumstances. There are doubtless many
travelling people who are selfish, unreasonable and hard to please, but
generally speaking (and I have seen this exemplified scores of times) the
official or employee of the Company proceeds on the assumption that
“the passenger is always right,” and in the end everybody is satisfied.
In this connection Lady Macdonald, who went with her distinguished
husband, Sir John, on the second regular train to the Coast, wrote in her
account of it: “It was quite touching and something new in railway life to
find the brakeman grieving over the smoke and apologizing for it.” If
there was a forest or prairie fire abroad the train-hands were not to
blame. If the reference was to the old coal-burners in the mountains, the
Company now uses fuel oil.
 To give another example: One day Mr. Van Horne overheard a
trainman in rather sharp altercation with an irritable and unreasonable
passenger, and speaking to this trainman afterwards, Van Horne said:
“You are not to consider your own personal feelings when you are
dealing with these people. You should not have any. You are the road’s
while you are on duty; your reply is the road’s; and the road’s first law is
courtesy.” The reader will see that while, in one sense, this seems to
suppress the individuality of the employee, there is another sense in
which it honours his position by making him, in that connection, the
accredited representative of the Company. Mr. Van Horne inculcated this
in many different ways, till employees took a pride in the road. They felt
they were part of it. Even Van Horne’s faithful coloured car-porter, the
well-known Jimmie French, used to tell passengers “how we built the C.
P. R.” It will be recalled that when that porter died, Mr. Van Horne, who
grieved greatly over the passing of a friend, walked in the funeral
procession as chief mourner. That is the spirit of the road.
It would be impossible to mention a fraction of the famous travellers
who have made the Canadian Pacific their way of travel, but there are
two of the public men of that period who had been protagonist and
antagonist on the subject for years, whose journey to the Coast had more
than usual interest on that account. The one was Sir John A. Macdonald;
the other was the Hon. Edward Blake.
Sir John and Lady Macdonald crossed to the Pacific on the second
train that made the through trip. Sir John, being the head of the
Government, was nominally at least the sponsor for the Canadian
Pacific, although we must not forget that his Minister of Railways, Sir
Charles Tupper, did the larger part of the fighting to get it through. Sir
John, however, was always the man who had the last word as to assisting
the road, and though he tried the patience of Stephen and Van Horne at
times, he was the real originator of the plan and in the end gave it his
powerful assistance in the days of stress. Sir John, during that trip over
the road in 1886, made one of his characteristically witty and magnetic
speeches at a great mass meeting in the McIntyre Rink in Winnipeg.
Those were my student days, and the chance to hear the popular Premier,
who was on a sort of triumphal trip over the completed road, was not to
be missed. My recollection is that the speech was non-partisan, except
for a few humorous references, and not very heavy. Sir John was alert
and bright even to jauntiness, but he spoke as a man who was through
with a puzzling problem and was light−heartedly taking a care-free
holiday. His allusion to the Canadian Pacific, a strange blending of
pathos and humour, swept the house into a hurricane of cheers. He said
“There was a time when I never expected to live to see the completion of
this great railway. But I knew it would be completed some day, and in
that day I said I would see my friends crossing the continent upon it as I
looked down upon them from another and better sphere. My friends on
the Opposition side of the House kindly suggested that I would more
likely be looking up from below. But I have disappointed all
conjecturers, and I am doing this trip on the horizontal.”
It was during that pioneer railway trip that Lady Macdonald loyally
rode for part of one day in the mountains on the cow-catcher of the
engine, as a way of advertising to the world the safety of the new road.
Mentioning Lady Macdonald recalls the story told by that big-hearted
humorist, Col. George Ham, whom everybody knows and likes. It
appears that Superintendent Niblock, of the Medicine Hat division of the
road, had to be away from home when Sir John’s train was due to pass.
But desiring to show some courtesy he wired some one at the Hat to send
Lady Macdonald a bouquet of flowers. The message appears to have
become mangled and when delivered had “flowers” spelled “flour” and
“bouquet” contracted to “boq.” This looked unusual, and “boq. of flour”
was interpreted to mean “a bag of flour.” This was accordingly
despatched to Sir John’s private car, where the porter had no room to
spare, and refused to accept it. And so both the courtesy and the gift fell
by the wayside, although the intention was good.
The other distinguished public man, as above noted, who travelled to
Vancouver over the Canadian Pacific a few years later, was the Hon.
Edward Blake. He had steadfastly, consistently and, no doubt,
conscientiously, opposed the construction of the road as involving what
he called “ruinous expenditure” for a young and sparsely settled country.
Mr. Blake’s memory remains as that of one of the ablest and most high-
minded statesman in the public life of Canada and, by general consent,
the most outstanding intellectual force this country has produced. But, as
observed in a preceding chapter, he had never been West before the
famous railway debates took place, and therefore underestimated the
country and its possibilities. When he did come, in 1891, he made a
notable speech in Vancouver. In that speech he not only accepted the
situation in a frank and manly way, but, calling on his large vocabulary
and his somewhat unsuspected sense of humour, he gave a remarkable
description of the country by putting everything in words opposite to the
reality. Mr. Blake said: “As I approached this country I was struck by the
remarkable change from the rugged and upheaved territory of the plains
of the North-West to the smooth and level slope of the Rockies; as I
ascended the slope and came upon the somewhat level and monotonous
flats of British Columbia; as I travelled by the languid Bow and
descended again through the valley of the tranquil Kicking Horse; as I
crossed the calm Columbia and travelled down the dead waters of the
Beaver and along the placid Illecillewaet and by the drowsy Skuzzy; as I
passed by the slow Thompson and last of all by the banks between which
the Fraser meanders its sluggish way, I turned to the fertile resources of
your shores and viewed the horizon where it spanned the meadows of the
Selkirks, the fertile level plains of the Gold Range and the broad plains
of the Coast Range, and I reached here converted.” For a while the
audience, thinking that Mr. Blake was getting things mixed because this
first swift trip was confusing him as to locality, preserved a well-bred,
silent attitude, as if much puzzled. In a little while, as he proceeded, they
saw that he was purposely and skilfully putting everything in the
converse way, and the house simply rocked with delighted laughter in
peal after peal. When people are enjoying an uproarious laugh, they
cannot cherish resentment. And so when Mr. Blake, dropping the jocular
vein, went on to say, “When the railroad was built and finished I felt
myself that it was useless to continue the controversy longer, in
deference to this whole country which Canada has risked so much to
retain,” the people in British Columbia forgave him for calling their
Province “a sea of mountains,” and, like true Westerners, declared that
he was playing the game in a sportsmanlike way and they would call off
their feud.
And thus was the great railway opened from ocean to ocean. Much
remained yet to be done in the way of constant improvement of the road
and increase of the rolling stock. But the system was in operation, and
the trains passed East and West over the once “Great Lone Land” and
through the mountain passes. Circumstances have changed somewhat
since the following fine verses were written some years ago by the late
Pauline Johnson, but in general they still represent the situation. Born in
Ontario in the region made famous by her great ancestor, Joseph Brant,
ally of the British people, this gifted poetess, with the Indian blood of
which she was so proud, saw in the Canadian Pacific trains not just so
many cars and engines, but new and living factors in the expanding life
of her beloved Dominion. And so she makes “The C. P. R. No. 1,
Westbound,” say:
 “I swing to the sunset land—
The world of prairie, the world of plain,
The world of promise and hope and pain
The world of gold and the world of gain,
And the world of the willing hand.

“I carry the brave and bold—

The one who works for the nation’s bread,
The one whose past is a thing that’s dead,
The one who battles and beats ahead
And the one who goes for gold.

“I swing to the ‘Land to Be.’

I am the power that laid its floors;
I am the guide to its Western Shores
I am the key to its golden doors
That open alone to me.”

And she calls on “The C. P. R. No. 2, Eastbound,” to say:

“I swing to the land of morn—
The grey old East with its grey old seas;
The land of leisure, the land of ease,
The land of flowers and fruit and trees
And the place where we were born.

“Freighted with wealth I come:

For he who many a moon has spent
Far out West on adventure bent,
With well-worn pick and folded tent
Is bringing his bullion home

“I never will be renowned,

As my twin that swings to the Western marts,
For I am she of the humbler parts—
But I am the joy of waiting hearts;
For I am the Homeward bound.”

From “Flint and Feather,” by E.

Pauline Johnson. Published by
arrangement with the Musson Book
Company, Limited.
 CHAPTER XII
Guardians of the Road

N we have followed the main line of the Canadian

Pacific to the coast and have paid tribute to the actual builders it is
fitting to devote a brief chapter to a body of men who, while not taking
part directly in the work, did so much to make that work possible that
they were often officially thanked by the railway heads for their
extraordinary assistance. I refer now particularly to the part played on the
stage of Western development by that famous corps, the North-West
Mounted Police. I am giving here the original title. Since the time when
they were so designated, the prefix “Royal” was given by King Edward,
as a recognition of the great services of these knights of the saddle. Still
later, when, shortly after the outbreak of the Great War, they were for
obvious important reasons distributed all over the Dominion, they were
given the present name of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Names
have changed, but throughout the fifty years from their organization
these riders in the scarlet and gold uniform have done their duty as law-
and-order men, inflexible, untiring and incorruptible, in their
guardianship of life and property on the widest frontier in the world. The
fact that they became an important factor in the conception and building
of the Canadian Pacific Railway was foreshadowed in the famous report
made by Capt. W. F. Butler (afterwards Sir William Butler, of South
Africa,) in the year 1871, when he travelled over the “great lone land”
and made recommendation how to preserve law and order in that vast
prairie country. The railway would not have come into a country that
would not some day be populated, and no country would be populated
unless immigrants and homesteaders were given assurance that their
lives and property would be protected in the new country. So it was that
Butler recommended the formation of a “mobile force,” because a force
located at fixed points or forts “would afford no adequate protection
outside the immediate circle of these points and would hold out no
inducements to the establishment of new settlements.” And Butler says
he made his recommendation because he saw “a vast country lying, as it
were, silently awaiting the approach of the immense wave of human life
which rolls unceasingly from Europe to the American continent.” Butler
added that, though the Western plains were far from the Atlantic
seaboard, “still that wave of human life is destined to reach those
beautiful solitudes and to convert their now useless vegetation into all
the requirements of civilized existence.” And it is historically true to say
that homesteaders began to come to the great lone land with more
confidence once the Mounted Police had taken control of the country in
the early 70’s. The notable painting, “Any Complaints?” by Paul
Wickson, is based on this idea. It represents the police patrol riding up to
the homesteader at his plough and asking if he has been troubled by
horse thieves, or cattle stealers or lawless Indians. It was because the
homesteader could pursue his way in peace that a railway to carry what
he imported and exported, had a future. And not only from possible
human enemies, but from the terrific danger of prairie fires and such like,
did the rider of the plains stand on guard. When one, for instance, sees
Constable Conradi, despite warnings that he was attempting the
impossible, spurring his horse through rolling clouds of smoke and
saving a family from death at the risk of his own life, one realizes how
these knights of the saddle gave people a sense of security. Or when one
sees thirty of these gallant riders sweeping the plain till they found a lost
child and restored her to her mother’s arms, he understands how the
presence of these men robbed the life on the prairies of the sense of
insecurity. The element of security drew settlers to the plains and thus
encouraged railway building.
Coming to railway construction time we have the cases in which the
contractors and engineers were terrorized by the Indians in the early
stages of their work. One chief, Pie-a-Pot, who had always been a source
of trouble on account of his ugly disposition and his evident
determination not to acquiesce in the incoming of civilized life, took it
into his head one day to camp on the railroad right-of-way on the prairie.
The surveyors and engineers worked up to that point and found Pie-a-
Pot’s tent squarely in the way. Around him were many other tents and all
supported by a big band of braves who, mounted on their ponies, circled
around, discharging fire-arms into the air and indulging in war-whoops
and other hostile demonstrations. The surveyors and engineers asked the
hostile chief to move, but he only laughed at them and urged his braves
to more violent exhibitions of their prowess. The men of peaceful
occupations discreetly withdrew to a safe distance and halted their work,
but at the same time managed to send back word to the Mounted Police
headquarters as to the situation. Headquarters sent a message to the
detachment of police nearest the scene of disturbance, though it was
many miles away. That detachment of police consisted of only two men,
a sergeant and a constable. Numbers have never counted either way with
the Mounted Police, and so these two in the scarlet and gold uniform
rode miles to Pie-a-pot’s camp on the railroad right-of-way. They told
Pie-a-Pot that they were instructed to ask him to move out of the way,
but the defiant chief sat in front of his tent and encouraged his braves to
rush the two police horses with their ponies. The sergeant and constable,
however, sat their horses unmoved and again warned the chief, who
laughed in their faces. Then the sergeant, pulling out his watch, indicated
the minute hand and gave the chief ten minutes to move. The Indians
became more violent, but the police sat tight and at the end of the ten
minutes the sergeant, throwing his reins to the constable so that the
horses would not be stampeded, leaped over Pie-a-Pot’s head and,
entering the chief’s tent, kicked out the centre pole and brought it down
in a hurry. He did the same with the four tents of the chief’s head-men
and then told them to get out at once. The Indians saw the kind of men
they had to deal with and so they moved swiftly, and the Canadian
Pacific surveyors and engineers went on with their work.
Not long afterwards there was a similar case, though it did not go so
far. Eastern contractors and workmen, who had not been used to seeing
war-paint, were naturally somewhat alarmed one day when a band of
Indians rushed at them with the air of people who owned the earth and
wished to hold it for themselves. Superintendent Shurtcliffe of the
Mounted Police received an S. O. S. call on that particular occasion from
a contractor who was getting out ties from a bush, and had been forced to
leave “on the double quick” when a chief with the portentous name of
“Front Man” swooped down on his tie gang with a band of yelling
Indians. Shurtcliffe summoned “Front Man” and told him how dangerous
a thing it was to interfere with the progress of work authorized by the
Canadian Government. When Mr. “Front Man” heard that it was
practically the Government he had been chasing, he was very penitent
and promised the Mounted Police officer that he would behave himself
in the future. Whereupon the contractor and his men, with a new
appreciation of the men in scarlet and gold, went back to prosecute,
unmolested, their peaceful and highly necessary tie business.
There was a famous riot case at the Beaver River in the mountains,
early in 1885, where several hundreds of rough men, many of them
reckless aliens, went on strike during construction, and were backed by
lawless camp-followers at that temporary terminus. There were only
some eight Mounted Police to keep order, although many of the navvies
and the disorderly characters in the place were heavily armed. The police
detachment, however, was commanded by that redoubtable officer,
Superintendent Samuel B. Steele (later Major-General Sir S. B. Steele),
with his second in command, Sergeant Fury, a short, heavy-set, quiet
man who could be all that his name suggested if occasion required.
When the strike was pending Steele told the strikers that he would not
interfere in the question itself as the police never took sides, but he
warned them that they must keep the peace and not commit any acts of
violence or he would punish them to the full extent of the law.
A few days later Steele was down in bed with mountain fever, and
one of his men, Constable Kerr, had gone to the town to get him some
medicine.
When Kerr was coming back he saw a mob being incited by a well-
known desperate character to make an attack on the barracks and to
destroy the railway property. Kerr, though alone, promptly arrested the
man, but he was overpowered by the mob and the prisoner rescued. Kerr
reported to Fury, who in turn reported to Steele, who was in bed, as the
strikers knew. Steele said, “It will never do to let the gang think they can
play with us,” and sent Fury with one of the constables with orders to
arrest the man. The arrest was made, but the two policemen were again
overpowered and came back to report with their uniforms torn by the
mob. The police were not “gunmen” and never used weapons unless as a
last resort. The limit had been reached in this case, and Steele said to
Fury, “Take three men and go back and shoot any one who interferes to
prevent you making the arrest.” Fury went back with Constables Fane,
Craig and Walters, while the other four constables guarded the barracks
which were slated for attack. Johnston, a magistrate, was there to read
the Riot Act, if necessary. In a few minutes there was a shot, and
Johnston said “Some one in that gang has gone to kingdom come.”
Steele leaped out of bed and went to the window. Craig and Walters were
dragging the prisoner across the bridge over the Beaver, the desperado
fighting like a demon and a scarlet woman following them with oaths
and curses. Fury and Fane were in the rear, trying to hold back a mob of
some three hundred men. Steele called on Johnston to come and read the
Riot Act, and ignoring his own fevered condition, he grabbed a rifle and
started running across the bridge calling the other men to follow. The
mob could hardly believe their eyes when they saw Steele and shouted
with oaths, “Even his deathbed does not scare him.” In the meantime the
desperate prisoner was struggling fiercely with his captors, biting,
kicking and shouting till they were on the bridge, when Walters lifted his
powerful fist and struck him on the head, and, with Craig, dragged him
like a rag into the barracks, where they left him and rushed back to help
their comrades. Johnston read the Riot Act and Steele, rifle in hand, told
the rioters that if he saw any man of them trying to reach for his gun he
would shoot him. He told them to disperse and that if he saw more than
ten of them together he would order his men to mow them down. And
the little detachment of eight policemen stood there with magazines
charged ready to carry out orders. The riot collapsed in five minutes, and
the leaders of it were sentenced next day. The trouble never cropped up
again. The roughs at the Beaver had tried the game of rioting with the
wrong men. And cool, daring men like these were all along the line to
keep the lawless in mind of the fact that lawlessness would not be
tolerated for a moment in the Mounted Police country.
It is not unexpectedly, then, that we come across two special letters
from builders of the great railway, expressing their thanks to the
Mounted Police. The first is from Mr. (later Sir) William C. Van Horne,
who was not given to saying gushing things. Here it is,

“J 1, 1883.
“Dear Sir:
“Our work of construction for the year 1882 has just
closed, and I cannot permit the occasion to pass without
acknowledging the obligations of the Company to the North-
West Mounted Police, whose zeal and industry in preventing
traffic in liquor and preserving order along the line of
construction have contributed so much to the successful
prosecution of the work. Indeed, without the assistance of the
officers and men of the splendid force under your command it
would have been impossible to have accomplished as much as
we did. On no great work within my knowledge, where so
many men have been employed, has such perfect order
prevailed. On behalf of the Company and all their officers, I
wish to return thanks and to acknowledge particularly our
obligations to yourself and Major Walsh.
“I am, sir,
“Yours very truly,
“W. C. V H ,
“General Manager.
 “To Lieutenant-Colonel A. G. Irvine
“Commissioner,
“North-West Mounted Police,
“Regina.”

And at the close of the next year we find the following from another
very practical man, John M. Egan, General Superintendent of the
Western Line, who did not make incursions into the realm of the
sentimental. The letter runs as follows:

“My dear Colonel:

“Gratitude would be wanting did the present year close without
my conveying, on behalf of the Canadian Pacific Railway, to
you and those under your charge most sincere thanks for the
manner in which their several duties in connection with the
railway have been attended to during the past season.
“Prompt obedience to your orders, faithful carrying out of
your instructions, contribute in no small degree to the rapid
construction of the line. The services of your men during
recent troubles among a certain class of our employees
prevented destruction to property and preserved obedience to
law and order in a manner highly commendable. Justice has
been meted out to them without fear or favour, and I have yet
to hear any person, who respects same, say aught against your
command.
“Wishing you the season’s compliments,
“I remain,
“Yours very truly,
“J . M. E .”

Taken together these letters, written by matter-of-fact men, are great

tributes paid to the men of the Mounted Police for the part they played in
those critical periods of the history of the pioneer railway. In such
masses of railway men of all kinds and nationalities thrown together in
construction times, there was constant danger of disorder under certain
conditions. There were amongst these men, many adventurous agitators
who cared nothing for the ultimate success of the railway. Had the
whiskey-peddlers who always hover around such camps been allowed to
ply their nefarious trade, there would have been constant danger to the
men themselves from high explosives carelessly handled. And there
would have been the ever-present menace of unreasonable outbreaks
causing delay and damage to a great and necessary undertaking. No
wonder that such highly practical and observant men as Van Horne and
Egan understood and gladly acknowledged the co-operation of the
Mounted Police in a vast national enterprise.
People have often wondered how this road, traversing some three
thousand miles across lonely prairie and lonelier mountains, escaped
having its trains held up by robbers, as was common in some other
similarly situated countries. In an official report some years after the
road opened Superintendent Deane of the Mounted Police at Calgary
refers to an effort at train-robbing that year and starts out with the
following revealing statement: “It has for years been an open secret that
the train-robbing fraternity in the United States had seriously considered
the propriety of trying conclusions with the Mounted Police, but had
decided that the risks were too great and the game not worth the candle.
After the object lesson they received last May, it may be reasonably
supposed that railway passengers will be spared further anxiety during
the life of the present generation at least.”
The special event to which Deane refers was a train hold-up at
Kamloops in British Columbia by a notorious train-robbing expert, Bill
Miner, alias Edwards, etc., assisted by two other gunmen, William Dunn
and “Shorty” Colquhoun. A train robbery had been committed by the
same gang some months before, but local authorities could not trace the
robbers. When the second robbery took place at Kamloops, the railway
heads thought they could not afford to take more chances, although
Provincial Police, especially Fernie, of Kamloops, were doing good
trailing work. Mr. Richard Marpole, then Superintendent of the Canadian
Pacific Railway at the Coast, who was always devoted to the interests of
the road, wired to General Manager (later Sir) William Whyte to secure
the help of the Mounted Police, who were not then on duty in British
Columbia. Mr. Whyte telegraphed to Regina to Commissioner A. B.
Perry, head of the Mounted Police, who, wiring Calgary to have two
detachments ready, left for that point to take charge of the case. From
Calgary, Perry (now Major-General and C.M.G., retired after years of
distinguished service) sent Inspector Church, an excellent officer, with a
detachment, to Penticton to cut off the escape of the robbers over the
boundary-line. Perry left for Kamloops with a detachment under charge
of Staff-Sergeant J. J. Wilson, with Thomas, Shoebotham, Peters,
Stewart, Browning and Tabateau. The weather was bad and the horses
secured at Kamloops were poor, but, despite these handicaps, this posse
trailed and captured the robbers, after a sharp fight, within forty-eight
hours. The effect of that lesson is still apparent, as Deane prophesied.
When the last spike had been driven on the Canadian Pacific Railway
at Craigellachie, and there was a through train to the Coast, Steele,
above-mentioned, who was back again on Mounted Police work in the
mountains, was given a trip to the Pacific out of compliment to himself
and the force generally. It was a time when the railway men were trying
out the road which they knew had been well constructed. Steele
describes his trip in a semi-humorous way, and speaks of the train going
at fifty-seven miles an hour, roaring in and out of the tunnels and
whirling around the curves. He says it was a wild ride, but adds these
fine words, “Many years have passed since that memorable ride, and to-
day one goes through the mountains in the most modern and palatial
observation cars, but the recollection of that journey to the Coast on the
first train through, is far sweeter to me than any trips taken since. It was
the exultant moment of pioneer work and we were all pioneers on that
excursion.” And we add again, all due honour to the law-and-order men
in scarlet and gold who had watched over the construction of the long
steel trail.
 CHAPTER XIII
Intensive and Extensive Work

C P R
T , after terrific fighting
against heavy odds, had reached its objective in the completion of
the main line from sea to sea. It was a thin steel line reaching across the
continent. But the driving of the last spike at Craigellachie simply gave
the Company a base of operation from which to reach out for other
conquests, in order that the work already done might prove productive of
the best results. Mr. Van Horne, who had a perfect passion for doing new
things and for bringing unknown places into the limelight, saw
tremendous opportunities looming up for the full play of his abilities in
that regard.
It was well for the road and for Canada that he saw the vista thus
opening up ahead with the lure of great prospects for the exercise of his
powers. Because otherwise he might have taken up work elsewhere. It is
well known that more than one board in the States was ready to throw its
presidency at the head and the feet of the man whose astonishing record
on the Canadian Pacific had attracted the attention of the railway world.
In fact Van Horne, on reaching Montreal after returning from
Craigellachie, found a letter (and others followed from several
directions) from Mr. Jason C. Easton, a great banker and railway man in
Wisconsin. The letter expressed the hope that as Van Horne had only
agreed to stay with the Canadian Pacific for five years, he would soon go
back to the States and take a railway presidency there.
But besides the fact that the bigness of the task still to be undertaken
in Canada held him to this country, the truth is that he had become
personally attached to President George Stephen and his Scottish-
Canadian associates. A little sidelight is thrown upon this phase of the
matter by the incident connected with the driving of the last spike by Mr.
Donald A. Smith (Strathcona). Mr. Smith owned a country home near
Winnipeg, called Silver Heights, once the property of the Hon. James
McKay, the handsome and famous frontiersman and interpreter who had
such a large share in the making of the successful Indian treaties on the
plains. After his removal to Montreal Mr. Smith allowed the house to
remain closed except for the caretaker and those who looked after the
farm stock and such like. On the way west by special train to
Craigellachie, Mr. Van Horne thought it would be a good idea to have the
house at Silver Heights opened up and have a spur-track laid to it from
Winnipeg, as a surprise to the veteran who was to drive the last spike.
When the train returned to Winnipeg the engine was reversed and the
special began backing out of the station. Mr. Smith after a while noticed
it, and then began to look out of the window. In a little while he said:
“Why, gentlemen, if I can believe my eyes this ground looks familiar and
there are Aberdeen cattle just like mine and that place looks like my
house.” The train stopped and the conductor shouted “Silver Heights.”
Mr. Smith was delighted beyond measure and again and again expressed
his appreciation of the courtesy and thoughtfulness that had planned the
surprise. It was just one of the ways by which the apparently
unemotional Van Horne paid chivalrous personal compliment to the men
whose character and courage he had learned to respect as they stood by
him to their last dollar in the great task to which he had given himself so
determinedly for four laborious years.
When Mr. Van Horne reached Montreal, after the opening of the
main line, he began to speed up the plans he had been putting already in
operation for the perfecting of the road and the increase of traffic in all
directions. The quality of the road-bed was of even higher standard than
the Government contract required. It will be remembered that once,
when the road-bed was still new, Van Horne had aboard his train a
number of Eastern men who were going out West in regard to the
valuation of the Government section of the road constructed by
Onderdonk. While still on the Canadian Pacific section in the mountains,
Van Horne walked up the platform at Field and said to the engineer,
Charley Carey, a fearless, skilful driver, “Let her out a bit, Charlie, we
will show these fellows that they are on a railroad fit to run on, though
the Government section is not.” Charlie “let her out” and made a fifty-
one-mile run in an hour and wound up by doing the seventeen miles
from Golden to Donald in fifteen minutes, and all safe. When they pulled
up there, with a flourish and flashing fire on the rails as the brakes were
put down hard to prevent running by the platform, the gentlemen from
the East needed no further demonstration. The Canadian Pacific road-bed
was all right even in those early days.
But Van Horne knew that much had still to be done. Construction had
been careful, but rapid, and steel and stone and cement would have to
replace many wooden culverts and bridges. Trestles had to be filled in or
replaced by stone or steel. Rolling stock, shops, roundhouses, yards,
stations, wharves and all manner of similar things had to be provided.
Branch lines to feed the main line would have to gridiron the country,
and connections would have to be made with the big systems south of
the line.
Incidentally, it was as a result of his observation before he came to
Canada at all, that he insisted on the Canadian Pacific keeping such
auxiliary utilities as the telegraph, express and sleeping car departments.
These also in their several ways would be feeders to the main treasury
account. They were not the big tent, as Van Horne said, using a circus
illustration; but the side-shows, as he called them, went a long way to
increase the receipts. It had been the custom in other places to let other
organizations have these franchises, but Van Horne said they took the
cream of several kinds of business and “left the skim milk to the
railway.” Van Horne wanted the cream, as the road would need the
money; and so the Dominion Express and the Canadian Pacific
Telegraphs and the Railway’s own sleeping cars, got into business for the
big Company from the start. And these, like the dining car department
and others of the same type, are marvels of service and efficiency, as
every one now knows.
To speak about the creation of traffic is to use a somewhat peculiar,
but well-founded, expression, because, in this case, it applies to traffic
which had practically no existence before. Nothing escaped Van Horne’s
notice. In the evening hours when he would be in camp on the prairie
during construction time, he took delight in planning sports of various
kinds for the men. “A change is as good as a rest,” is an old saying with
a lot of truth in it. I have seen men apparently fagged out with a day’s
march become lithesome as kittens over a game of baseball in the
evening on the plain. Mr. Van Horne, who was a true artist, became
interested in the bleached bones of buffaloes amongst the construction
tents. And many a great buffalo head with its wide white frontal bone did
the big railroader adorn with sketches made in coal or pencil, to the
delight of the onlookers. And at the same time he was thinking of traffic
in these buffalo bones. In my boyhood I have ridden through acres and
miles of prairie where the white bones of the buffalo “lay thick as the
autumnal leaves in Vallambrosa.” These acres of skeletons were an
indictment against the selfish and greedy buffalo-hunting sporting men
who had rounded up the herds, killed them by thousands, and took
nothing but the tongue and the hide. Van Horne saw in these vast surface
cemeteries how the slaughtered buffalo could still be of value. And so he
had men gather up the bones and pile them in great heaps along stations
and sidings, to be shipped by trainloads to Eastern factories that were
glad to get them. Thus the railroader, who got the material for the cost of
gathering, made good profits for the Railway, and at the same time
cleared the land of an encumbrance. The man who could think of such
things was not likely to fail in creating traffic.
Van Horne was anxious to get the country settled up along the great
spaces in the Middle West. So he lured many cattle-men across the line
by the advertising he did for the rich grazing lands in the southern
portion of the North-West Territories, as the prairie country was then
described. He drafted some striking and rather freakish advertisements
for billboards in Eastern Canada, thus “capitalizing the scenery” of the
Great Lakes and the mountains and making a special bid for tourist
traffic. Some of these posters, such as “Parisian Politeness on the C. P.
R.” and “ ‘How High We Live,’ said the Duke to the Prince,” are
somewhat belittled by smart modern advertisers; but somehow they
stuck in the memory of those who saw them, and that is the acid test of
all advertising. The stream of tourists or other travellers on the main line
was a very small rivulet in those early days, and there are records of cars
with one or two passengers. But all passengers became enthusiasts over
the comfort and courtesy of the road, so that the movement of travellers
is now a steady-flowing river of humanity which, in certain seasons,
almost overflows in a great tide of sightseers and business people.
It is interesting to recall in connection with Mr. Van Horne’s
endeavours to secure settlers by various immigration plans, that he
studied social conditions amongst the incoming settlers. That was before
the day of rural telephones and motor cars, and he discovered without
much difficulty that one of the obstacles to settlement of the prairies at
that period was the dread of loneliness and isolation. And the keen-
minded railroader formulated a plan to offset that dread in the minds of
possible newcomers. He thought that tracts of land should be surveyed so
as to permit settlers to live in communities at the apex of a triangle. In
order that they might enjoy the social amenities and advantages of
community life while their farms spread out from that place of common
residence to the farther extremity of the land they held. It is of additional
interest to recall that the introduction of the rectangular system of land
survey from the United States led to considerable unrest in the Canadian
West. It gave Louis Riel a chance to play on the emotions of the half-
breed settlers on the South Saskatchewan River, where these settlers
desired to hold their land as the early settlers did on the Red and
Assiniboine Rivers, their homes near together on the river bank and the
farms running back some distance on the plain. And Riel told the half-
breeds that the Government wanted to break up their social life and make
it difficult for them to have schools and churches and business places
near at hand. In fact, the introduction of the rectangular survey, with its
comparative isolation, was one of the prime reasons at the base of the
Riel Rebellion. So that Mr. Van Horne had a good idea in operation when
he advocated the settlement of newcomers close together. The
Government, however, did not adopt the scheme. Some settlers, like the
Mennonites, followed the plan of community settlement, even though the
square farms made them lose time in going backwards and forwards to
their work.
Mr. Van Horne’s efforts for the settlement of the country led also to
his company building immense elevator accommodation at the Great
Lakes and providing facilities for transport thereto.
There were flashes of humour in this grim fight for the settler. Mr.
Van Horne was restively asserting one hard year that the grain-buyers
who were paying only thirty-five cents a bushel for wheat were
practising highway robbery on the farmer. Mr. L. A. Hamilton, the
Company’s land commissioner, said to him, “Why not go in and outbid
the grain-buyers.” The idea appealed mightily to Van Horne and he sent
Alex Mitchell, a grain man from Montreal, to the West to organize some
agency and offer fifty cents a bushel. No one knew that Mitchell was
acting for the Canadian Pacific, but when he offered fifty cents a bushel,
grain poured in on him till all the cars were full and bags of wheat were
piled up along station platforms on account of the car shortage. Then the
enemies of the Railway who were on the lookout for chances to find
fault with the Railway and who, of course, had no idea that the Railway
owned the wheat, attacked the Company because it could not take care of
the crop and ship it out of the country. These active enemies got
photographs taken to show the congestion of the grain at stations and on
platforms along the line. Van Horne said nothing, but had these
photographs bought up by scores and sent abroad to show that the
prairies were so productive that the railway was caught unprepared to
handle the enormous crops. All this was great immigration material, and
a boomerang for the men who had gone to the expense of getting the
photographs.
These things indicate how eagerly Mr. Van Horne was trying to get
the country settled, and generally to build up within its borders,
prosperous and successful communities. There is a theory in the minds of
some kinds of people that a railway like this has been always bleeding
the country to death. Hardly any theory could be more assinine and
ridiculous. It could only spring from the alleged brains of the unthinking,
even though it passes muster as a piece of stump or soap-box oratory. It
may sound well as a vote-catcher, but thinking people will not be
deceived by such a manifest contradiction in terms. The country and the
railway, in such a case as this, must stand or fall together. Each is
necessary to the prosperity of the other. Hence for one to attempt the
destruction of the other is practically a round-about, but effective, way
for that one to commit suicide. And a business concern has sense enough
not to commit suicide. In this connection there is a fine paragraph in a
sort of valedictory review of the history of the Canadian Pacific Railway,
given in 1918 by Lord Shaughnessy, then President of the Company and
Chairman of the Board. It is quoted here in advance of the chronological
order of our story, because it is specially applicable to the point we are
discussing, namely, the interdependence of the country, and the road. The
paragraph is as follows: “The shareholders and Directors of the
Company have always been impressed with the idea that the interests of
the Company are intimately connected with those of the Dominion, and
no effort or expense has been spared to help in promoting the
development of the whole country.” This statement was intended to
cover the whole record of the railway, and Lord Shaughnessy had such
an outstanding reputation for stern rectitude and straight-flung veracity
that we are fully warranted in taking it at its face value. Hence when we
recorded above the efforts of Mr. Van Horne to extend and create the
business of the road in the years immediately succeeding the completion
of the main line, we were justified in saying that Mr. Van Horne’s
endeavours in that regard were in the interests of both the railway and
the country. The Canadian Pacific was from its inception an integral
factor in creating and extending the social and productive activities of
Western civilization.
Mr. George Stephen (first knighted and then raised to the peerage as
Lord Mount Stephen, in recognition of his great services to the empire as
a railway builder) held the Presidency of the Canadian Pacific from the
beginning in 1880 till 1888, when Mr. Van Horne succeeded him. There
was something very fine in the deep personal friendship that existed
between these two men. And there is something almost pathetic in the
correspondence carried on between them over Mr. Stephen’s desire to
retire from the Presidency, and later on, when his health and age
demanded rest, from the directorate of the road. The President and Mr.
Van Horne had been specially close personal friends from the beginning,
and their intense struggle to build the railway had cemented their
friendship into a type of affection that was unmistakable, even though
these two strong men were not of the kind to be demonstrative before the
curious onlookers by the wayside of life. Stephen, on undertaking the
Presidency in 1881, had indicated even then his purpose to retire when
the task of building the road across the continent was completed. The
greatness of this task was even then foreseen, although the enormous
difficulties that developed, as we have noted in previous chapters, could
not have been anticipated by finite vision. The burden of responsibility
carried by the President was well-nigh crushing. And there is no doubt
that Stephen, at times, felt keenly the fact that not only did some public
men in Canada actually oppose what he was trying to do for the country,
but that even some of those who had stood as sponsors for the railway
undertaking were so slow to appreciate the terrific strain upon Stephen
and his colleagues that they only came to their assistance after they were
humbly besought for aid. Stephen’s nature was sensitive under these
discouragements, but he kept his word and stayed till the main line was
built. It was largely at Van Horne’s request that Stephen kept on for two
years more and thus gave the General Manager a chance to consolidate
and conserve what had been accomplished as well as proceed with
extensions and branches. But in 1888 Stephen retired from the
Presidency, and Mr. Van Horne was the logical choice to be his
successor. In a fine letter which has vivid historical interest to all who
know something of the stress and strain of his term of office, Sir George
Stephen, under date of August 7th, 1888, wrote to the shareholders of the
Company, his resignation. After referring to his determination, at the
outset, to remain in office till the completion of the main line, Sir George
relates how he remained two years more at the request of his colleagues.
Then he goes on to say, “warned now by the state of my health, finding
that the severe and constant strain which I have had to bear for the last
eight years has unfitted me for the continuous and arduous work of an
office in which vigour and activity are essential; feeling the increasing
necessity for practical railway experience; and believing that the present
satisfactory and assured position of the Company offers a favourable
opportunity for taking the step I have so long had in contemplation, I
have this day resigned the Presidency of the Company which I have had
the honour to hold since its organization.” After referring to the fact that
he would continue to have an abiding interest in the Company and