James FitzGibbon

James FitzGibbon might have saved Canada on at least two occasions. He foresaw and advocated confederation, well before Macdonald. He ought to be a great national hero.

Has anyone heard of him?

The first time he saved Canada was in 1813. The Americans had invaded. FitzGibbon led a hand-picked guerilla band known as “FitzGibbon’s Green ‘Uns,” or "FitzGibbon’s Tigers,” who harassed American forces from a dangerously advanced position in the Niagara Peninsula, preventing them from pushing farther. Then he won the Battle of Beaver Dams, against a vastly superior American force, almost without a casualty. He convinced them they were surrounded, and they surrendered.

De-commissioned after the war, he joined the civil service, in various capacities. But what he did best was keep the peace. Whenever there was a report of conflict in the far-flung province, Colonel FitzGibbon was sent out. He never used force; he negotiated, and managed to defuse the tensions every time. At the same time that factional strife was raging in Ireland, and Canada was being flooded by Irish Catholics and Protestants in about equal numbers, and even though the Orange Order was actually stronger here in Canada than back in Ireland, there were surprisingly few open conflicts. FitzGibbon probably had everything to do with this. An Irishman, he spoke fluent Gaelic. And he was immensely intelligent, scrupulously honest, generous, open-minded, and a born leader. Both sides came to trust him.

Then in 1837, when Mackenzie rose in open revolt, it was FitzGibbon who foresaw the danger, organized the defense, saved the government, and dispersed the rebel force. His influence also ensured, no doubt, that despite their own desire for reform, and lack of special love for the British crown, neither the Protestant nor the Catholic Irish would have anything to do with the rebellion. Had it been otherwise, there might well again have been no Canada today.

Why is such a man not honoured and remembered, while Mackenzie, who led the rebels, is honoured? Why for that matter is such a man not honoured for winning the Battle of Beaver Dams, while Laura Secord, who merely warned him of the American approach, is honoured?

Because FitzGibbon had the dire misfortune of having to deal intimately with a narcissist. Looking at his story may illustrate just how devastating that can be. It is a sad but common tale.

The narcissist in question being Sir Francis Bond Head.

Bond Head was named Governor-General of Upper Canada at a time when the population was already restive, and demanding responsible government. He had little administrative experience; but in this romantic period, he had portrayed himself as a romantic hero, and in this romantic period, that was enough. He had written books about his supposed exploits on the pampas. The British government was taken in; as people often are by a self-publicist.

Arriving at post, he began to behave exactly as a narcissist would. He made promises to the reformers, then changed his mind. Promises were inconvenient to keep. They tended to restrict one’s freedom. The Legislative Assembly, frustrated, refused to pass money bills. So Head dissolved the legislature and campaigned aggressively for the “constitutionalists,” the small-c conservatives, playing favourites.

In his own mind, I suspect, he was acting the hero, saving the day with the sheer strength of his personality and indomitable will. And showing everyone that the people loved him. What he had really done, narcissistically, was make it all about him. In so doing, he had jeopardized the future of the monarchy, the British connection, and the civil peace, which he had been appointed to protect. There is a reason why the Queen does not involve herself in politics.

The people, told any other vote was treason, obediently elected Head’s majority. The more radical reformers, predictably, concluded that their only recourse now was open revolt. There could be no more question of “Her Majesty’s Loyal Opposition.”

FitzGibbon, always informally in charge of public order, saw this danger. Moreover, as an honest man, employed by government directly under Bond Head, he was in a morally impossible position. Loyalty and public order were his credo; he had devoted his life to them. Now the government itself was acting erratically, disloyally and for public disorder.

This lesson from history illuminates the moral dilemma of any conscientious and intelligent child saddled with a narcissistic parent. It is the same dilemma: he wants to follow the rules, and he wants the good of all, and the parent, who sets the rules, wants the opposite. Where is he to turn? An earthquake has upended the bedrock of the universe. Any action becomes wrong. This is the fatal sense of lack of direction at the core of depression.

Bond Head, typical of a classic narcissist, went on to adamantly deny the real situation. Rather than take any precautions against revolt, he sent the entire local garrison off to Lower Canada to help with unrest there. He even seemed to advertise this fact, releasing statements to the newspapers. It was essential to prove that the entire population adored him.

FitzGibbon took measures on his own authority; he recruited a group of trustworthy armed citizens ready for action at the sound of the church and school bells. Reports of organizing for unrest poured in from the surrounding countryside. Still Head refused to take any action. At last, as the rebel force was gathering eight miles away in Montgomery’s Tavern, planning to attack that same night, the Governor-General summoned the militia to prepare for possible service, and named FitzGibbon acting adjutant-general.

But Head still refused to allow FitzGibbon to move. At this point, FitzGibbon thought the rebels could be scattered by a small attack. The rebels ended up delaying their own assault, thinking they would be stronger in a few days. The government gathered forces too, but this meant what might have been a light skirmish became more serious. So much for preserving the peace. It took three days for FitzGibbon to convince Head to sanction action; when he did, Head gave command of government forces to the Speaker of the House, Alan McNab. And did not tell FitzGibbon.

This seemed, and seems, odd. It looks like a deliberate stab in FitzGibbon’s back. Not only because FitzGibbon outranked McNab in the militia, not only because he had long been in charge of public order, but also because FitzGibbon was a seasoned military commander with crucial victories to his credit, while McNab had no experience of military command.

Why this reckless decision by Head when the fate of Upper Canada hung in the balance?

Narcissism, surely. FitzGibbon had been right, and Bond Head had been wrong. It was essential to punish FitzGibbon for this.

Worse, now FitzGibbon was liable to achieve another crucial victory, and outshine him. This was intolerable. In comparison to this risk, the actual fate of Upper Canada meant nothing to Head. By giving command instead to McNab, he could remain the centre of attention. If McNab won out, the victory could be credited to his choice of commander; and McNab could then be manipulated because of the perceived favouritism.

Better to risk the fate of Upper Canada than to look diminished. Even if McNab won through, he would owe his position, and so his possible victory, to Head. That was better.

FitzGibbon, however, put up a fierce argument. Also characteristic of a narcissist, Bond Head buckled at this point. As with bullies, who are a type of narcissist, if stood up to energetically enough, a narcissist will back down. They are always calculating what is best for self, and so will take the easier road. Nothing is ever worth too much effort. FitzGibbon was allowed the command, with hours if not only seconds to spare. He mustered the men available with desperate speed, and advanced on the tavern. The rebels, unexpectedly demoralized by a lack of leadership, still awaiting their expected commander, scattered.

Head then ordered Montgomery’s Tavern set on fire, for the crime of acting as rebel headquarters. Then the burning of David Gibson’s house, then countermanded his order, then ordered it again. Gibson was not a leader of the rebellion, but he participated in it; and he was a prominent citizen, a member of parliament.

This was gratuitous, and calculated to ensure hard feelings persisted. FitzGibbon protested, but felt compelled to obey this command. He then went home and had a nervous breakdown.

As do so many children or partners of narcissists. This is where it comes from. It is from a betrayal by someone to whom you have been scrupulously loyal; and it is from being forced into a moral double-bind, in which every choice you make is wrong.

This collapse into depression is why in turn FitzGibbon is not better remembered. He manfully pulled himself together and went back to work within a week or two, but he was never the same. Bond Head was recalled, but of course his reports to London made him the great hero, and did not mention FitzGibbon. McNab was given a knighthood, for the cleaning-up operation.

From this point, FitzGibbon became obsessed with having been mistreated, and with his personal debts. He developed a reputation for being neglectful of duty. At one point he dropped everything and sailed to London to make personal representations—leaving his accounts in disarray. In the end he was removed from his official position and put on pension by the Assembly. He simply was no longer doing his job.

This later period is no doubt why he is not better remembered. It left a mixed legacy.

He was obviously suffering from severe depression. This is the inevitable effect of dealing with a narcissist.

FitzGibbon deserves a far better fate from all of us.