George Grant. T.F. Rigelhof

letters. I shall be a proud grandfather when I get a note from George P. Grant.”

2

       A Child of the British Empire

      Sir George Parkin says, “I want one of the children for a photograph on the beach. Who will it be?”

      The children look at one another or at their feet. They are all a little shy around this grandfather they hardly know.

      The littlest one steps out from behind his mother’s skirts. “George will stay!”

      “I think he’ll do whatever you ask him to do, father,” a middle-aged mother says. And a look passes between her and her father as if something very important has just happened.

      Little George goes down to the beach with his grandfather and sits where he is told to sit among the rocks. He does whatever he is told to do with the food he’s given by his grandfather while one of his uncles sets up the camera, poses the subjects, and takes a picture of Sir George and his grandson that is destined for publication.

      Nearly a year later, Sir George sits at a writing desk in his London home. It’s April 17, 1922. He’s a tall, thin, elegant man in his seventies with a full head of sand and silver hair and a large silver and white moustache. His clothes and his manners are those of an English aristocrat, but he is a Canadian of humble beginnings who was knighted by King George V for services to the King and the British Empire. He’s only been “Sir George” for two years. Before that, he was simply George Parkin, the thirteenth child of an immigrant family from Yorkshire in England that had taken up farming in New Brunswick. As a young man, he became a teacher and rose to the rank of the headmaster in a school in Fredericton. A bit of a dreamer, his great dream was for worldwide peace and justice. He believed passionately that his dream could best be achieved through the Imperial Federation – a proposed worldwide political alliance that would unite Britain, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa in a sort of United States of the World. Once established, this new empire would jointly administer Britain’s colonies in Africa, India, Asia, the West Indies, and Latin America and lead them step-by-step to the status Canada had already achieved with Britain’s help. Because he was an excellent public speaker, wealthy people who shared his dream supported him for six years as he toured the British Empire preaching the benefits of such a worldwide government. When his travels were over in 1895, he accepted the position of headmaster (or principal) of Upper Canada College (UCC), a private boys’ school in Toronto. Seven years later, he was chosen by the estate of Cecil Rhodes to implement and establish the Rhodes Scholarships.

      Cecil Rhodes was the Englishman who extended British influence in South Africa through the British South Africa Company. Their territories – now Zimbabwe – were named Rhodesia after him. When Rhodes died, he bequeathed his considerable fortune to a trust fund that would administer scholarships. Rhodes Scholarships were to be awarded each year to the brightest university graduates with the strongest leadership skills in the United States, Germany, and the countries of the British Empire. These scholarships would enable the winners to study at Oxford University with all expenses paid for a law or other degree. At Oxford, Rhodes Scholars would participate in formal and informal events and create a new and better-educated ruling class. George Parkin was so successful in making Rhodes Scholarships the most prestigious and best-known academic awards in the world that he was knighted on his retirement. Sir George and Lady Parkin’s return to Canada in 1921 for a summer holiday made headline news.

      As he sits at his desk, he writes a letter to one of the people he met in Canada – his grandson George Parkin Grant, who is only two-and-a-half years old. This is what he’s writing:

      Dear George,

      A few days ago I was walking along the street in London, and I saw the picture of King George, which I am sending you with this. It seemed to me that your own name was George, and both your grandfathers were Georges and, as I knew you had at the College a picture of St George, you might like to have one of King George in your room – so here it is. I have talked with him several times, and he is so cheerful and pleasant that I am sure you would not mind having a chat with him yourself, if you should happen to meet him. And when you grow up you will be expected to work for your king and your country. The name George really means a farmer or earth-worker. So, when you do some gardening like you did last spring, you are really doing what your name means.

      I was delighted to get that nice picture of our jolly little picnic at the shore. How nice those oranges and bananas were, to say nothing of the bacon. I am quite sure the other girls and boys wished to be with us. I wish mother could bring you over to England with her, so that we could have another picnic here… You must learn to spell and write as soon as you can, so that you can write me letters. I shall be a proud grandfather when I get a note from George P. Grant.

       Your very loving Grandfather

      Two months later, Sir George is dead. There are no more picnics, no more letters.

      The holiday in Canada included several weeks in Quebec at Cap à l’Aigle on the shore of the Saint Lawrence River north of Quebec City. Cap à l’Aigle along with its sister community of Murray Bay was a favourite resort area for wealthy and socially prominent English-speaking Canadians. Sir George’s visit there with Lady Parkin, their children and grandchildren was a family reunion that provided photo opportunities for a book being prepared about his life. A camera always accompanied the family on their various excursions, and pictures were taken. Thus, Sir George had a picnic on the beach with his grandson George. They sat among the rocks and ate bacon sandwiches, oranges and bananas. It made a lovely photograph but one that George Grant grew to hate. “That picture of me on the beach – you know that story was told me a thousand times – how he had asked for one child to stay with him on the beach and I was the one who volunteered and Mother would tell me this was my destiny, to carry on his work for king, country and empire.”

      Sir George Parkin’s notion of a new world federation had been deflected but not destroyed by the First World War. That war taught British imperialists that the United States was too powerful an ally to be left entirely out of the postwar equation. It also taught them that it wasn’t enough to have a well-educated ruling class. Peace and justice demanded dedicated, responsible political parties and a well-informed electorate. Sir George and Lady Parkin’s three daughters all married men who carried parts of his dream forward in different directions. Vincent Massey, George’s uncle who was to become Canada’s first native-born Governor General, was active in the Liberal Party. Another uncle, James Macdonnell, was the Canadian secretary of the Rhodes Scholarship Committee and an organizer for the Conservative Party. William Grant, George’s father, was the incumbent headmaster of Upper Canada College. He was also president of the Canadian branch of the League of Nations society and active on behalf of increased educational opportunities for adult Canadian workers.

      George Grant was born on Wednesday, November 13, 1918, two days after the armistice ended the First World War. His mother gave birth at their home in the principal’s residence in the southeast wing of the main building of Upper Canada College (UCC). George was the fourth child but first son of William Grant, a wounded veteran of the war who had returned to Canada to take up the position of headmaster of UCC a year earlier. Maude Parkin Grant, George’s mother, first met her husband twenty years earlier when William was a history teacher at UCC and her own father was the principal and William’s boss. They named their son George Parkin Grant in his honour.

      Born inside the walls of UCC and educated there until William’s death in 1935, George was deeply marked by the school. When he was in his sixties and apologizing for a longstanding quarrel he’d had with her, he told his sister Charity, “One difference between myself and yourself is that you did not attend school where your father was headmaster. Whether