An election victory, with a new mandate from the voters, is like New Year’s Day in politics. It’s a fresh start—especially for a party returning to power after sitting in opposition for several years.
Sir John A. Macdonald was very popular and engineered such a victory on Sept. 17, 1878, carrying a handy majority of seats in every province except New Brunswick.
Canada’s first and greatest prime minister detested “idleness” but he was not a workaholic. Part of his success was his ability to maintain a healthy work-life balance.
As honorary patron of the Oshkosh Toboggan Club of Ottawa, he once rode a toboggan to ceremonially open the club’s new slide, accompanied by fireworks, speeding along for a quarter of a mile to the other side of the frozen Rideau River. He told a laughing audience that his political career “was going downhill fast enough” because he was regarded as such “a slippery customer.”
After his 1878 election victory, the following summer Macdonald indulged in one of his favourite escapes—a trip to England. In those days this entailed a carefree two-week Atlantic crossing. He revelled in meeting and conversing with leading figures of the empire. “Their tone is so high,” he said, “and their mode of thinking so correct, that it really elevates one. … The statesmen of England are far superior to those of any other nation, east or west.”
These were men like Carnarvon, Hicks-Beach, Northcote, Cardinal Howard (related to the Duke of Norfolk), and Disraeli. Macdonald slept over at Disraeli’s house, Hughenden, staying up late to discuss the literature of Ancient Greece and Rome before moving on to British and Canadian politics and especially the people and resources of the Dominion, its “illimitable wilderness,” and the benefits of “Imperialism in its best aspect.”
On another occasion, Macdonald told a certain Englishmen on his left at dinner that he regarded “Mr. Bagehot” as the “best authority” on the Constitution. The other replied, “I am glad to hear you say that, for I am Mr. Bagehot.”
Macdonald knew he “did not deserve defeat” in 1873 but he offered to resign as leader for the good of the Conservative Party and the country. He said his colleagues could manage without him, “an old man who had done his share of the fighting.” Actually he was 59, but he said they should choose a younger man who did not bear the taint of scandal or Sir John’s financial troubles and personal foibles, which included binge-drinking mingled with fitful efforts to change his ways.
Macdonald’s colleagues refused. In spite of everything, the Conservatives knew Macdonald remained Canada’s indispensable man. Macdonald converted to Anglicanism (from Presbyterianism) while in opposition, and by 1877 he had found a way to conquer the demon drink. In May of that year, the Governor General, Lord Dufferin, observed that Macdonald was able to “drink wine at dinner without being tempted to excess.”
And so in 1878, Macdonald returned as prime minister and went on to achieve three more election victories (1882, 1887, and 1891) until he died in office, working and conversing with his colleagues to the end.
Sir John was rarely seen with books or magazines at the office, but he read a great deal in bed both at night and in the morning. He typically came downstairs at 9:30 a.m. for tea or coffee in his “workshop,” meaning his library at home, where he completed two hours of government business before a late, simple breakfast, usually with visiting colleagues. He spent the afternoon and early evening in the House of Commons and East Block offices, returning home to dine at 7:30.
Another daily habit of his is extremely revealing. Sir John always devoted the 30 minutes before dinner to his handicapped daughter, Mary Theodora, born in 1869. Macdonald’s great humanity is revealed best of all in his attentiveness to wheelchair-bound Mary, who suffered from hydrocephalus, an abnormal buildup of fluid in the brain. Even today the survival rate for this illness is poor, with 50 percent of patients dying before age three and 80 percent dying before adulthood.
Modern surgical treatments were of course unavailable then and sadly, most parents felt they had to confine such children to an institution. Today, in addition to surgery, the U.S. National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke recommends “rehabilitation therapies and educational interventions” to “help children learn life skills and develop social behaviours” and “tackle learning disabilities.”
Impressively, Sir John and Lady Macdonald, various nurses they hired, and Mary’s own childhood friends, provided sufficient “therapy” through companionship and stimulation that instead of dying in childhood, Mary lived to the age of 64, dying in England in 1933.
As Sir Joseph Pope recounts in his memoir of Macdonald, “His first words on entering the house frequently were ‘Where is my little girl?’” It is easy to imagine that Mary looked forward to this moment all day long. His nickname for her was “Baboo.” He would sometimes crawl fully dressed into bed next to her, or “sit down beside her and talk over the events of the day,” or play a game. (His favourite card game, bar none, was patience, a.k.a. solitaire.) Mary was well-trained in conversation and they “excelled” together at repartee or “badinage,” Pope says.
Dinner was simple—one course with a glass of claret—and he often chatted with Baboo and her friends afterwards, returning to his library. Pope, himself a great family man, admired Macdonald’s ability to “divest himself of the cares of State.” In other words, Macdonald knew how to keep work in its place and how to make proper use of leisure time.
In Sir John’s case, all work and no play did not make Jack a dull boy.
