Before the calendar flips over to December, and I have to finally, reluctantly, grudgingly admit that it really is winter, here’s one last photo showing Vancouver’s fall colours at their best. I took this photo from Burrard Bridge in mid-October 2011.
This year being the bicentennial of the War of 1812, we Canadians have been bombarded with what strikes me as an odd media campaign celebrating our nationhood. Odd, because we Canadians don’t typically yell and shout out our patriotism. Odd, because videos like this one
seem to be doing a pretty good job at celebrating our nationhood at the expensive of the other guys. You know, the ones who are suppose to be Canada’s Best Friend. Longest undefended border and all that.
Truth is, I don’t remember ever being taught anything in school about the War of 1812. That might be because I was (mostly) educated in Alberta, and the war took place in Upper Canada (what we now call Ontario), Lower Canada (what we now call Quebec), and the United States. Or maybe it’s because we Canadians don’t really give that war much thought.
What little I know about the War of 1812 is that it had something to do with the British boarding American merchant ships and drafting American sailors into the British Navy. (Britain was busy fighting Napoleon at the time and needed all the sailors it could get its hands on.) The Americans didn’t like that much (who would?) and they declared war on the British.
What little I have read about the War of 1812 says that nobody actually won. It more or less came to a stalemate, and sometime in 1814 the powers that be worked out an agreement called the Treaty of Ghent that more or less left everything pre-war as the status quo. And ― oh yeah ― we burned the White House. That was in retaliation for the Yanks burning our Parliament Buildings in York (what we now call Toronto), which was then the capital of Upper Canada.
(As an aside: burning government houses was considered bad form back then, and trashing non-military targets simply wasn’t done in the age of the Gentlemen’s War. Which is why the Brits got a tad upset and why they turned around and burned the White House. I find it ironic that everybody remembers the Brits burned the White House, but nobody seems to remember that the Americans burned York.)
(And, just one more aside: I found out during my visit to Washington DC last summer that the White House came to be called that because, after said burning, it was painted white to cover up all the soot marks. President Theodore Roosevelt made it official almost a hundred years later by having stationery printed with the words “The White House” at the top.)
Back to the war: a more accurate assessment of the War of 1812 might be that we both won. The Americans call it their “second war of independence,” and after it was over we Canadians began to think of ourselves as a nation, and not just some fur trading post for the British.
And so (finally!), to the main topic of this blog post. On my visits last summer to Baltimore and Toronto, with the War of 1812 being foremost in my mind due to our tax dollars hard at work, I decided to visit Fort McHenry and Fort York.
Fort McHenry, I discovered, is not just a National Historic Monument, but a National Monument and Historic Shrine. That was pretty much evident during the video presentation I watched at the Visitors’ Center. The last image of the video, with the American anthem playing after the voice-over ends, is of the American flag. At the same time, the screen rises so that you are looking outdoors at the American flag flying over Fort McHenry. I tried not to snicker, but it was a bit hokey.
Back to the War of 1812: the British knew they needed to capture Fort McHenry if their campaign against Baltimore was to succeed. They attacked the fort at dawn on September 13, 1814, bombarding the fort for a day and a night, but eventually they gave up and stopped the bombardment. The problem was, the American guns had a range of 1.5 miles, and the British guns had a range of two miles. The British navy parked itself just out of range of Fort McHenry’s guns, but that meant the shells from their guns couldn’t reach Fort McHenry accurately. Only two shells out of over 1500 fired actually hit the fort. Talk about a waste of ammunition.
After the bombardment stopped, Francis Scott Key, an American lawyer who was being held by the British on a ship out in the Patapsco River, looked towards the fort and saw the large flag still flying. That told him the Americans were still in control of the fort. That same flag ― which measures an incredible 42 by 30 feet ― is now on display at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History.
Francis Scott Key wrote the words to “The Star Spangled Banner” after the British released him and while he was on his way back to Baltimore. The “bombs bursting in air” line in the anthem refers to the British shells that were fired at Fort McHenry.
There isn’t much to see in Fort McHenry itself as it’s fairly small and there aren’t many buildings still standing. But you certainly get a feel for why its location was so important: it sits at the end of a narrow peninsula right at the entrance to Baltimore’s harbour, and is in a perfect position to defend the city. I took a water taxi out to the fort from Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, and it was a lovely, breezy way to see the harbour.
Fort York, on the other hand, is located in the midst of a bustling, growing city, right beside Toronto’s Gardiner Expressway. This made for some intriguing photos as I looked for interesting angles.
The museum displays at Fort York could use some updating, but it had many more rooms furnished in period pieces than did Fort McHenry, which makes a visit much more interesting. (Click on any of the photos below to open a slide show.)
The Americans attacked Fort York on April 27, 1813. The British were vastly outnumbered (750 British troops, 50 Mississauga and Ojibway warriors, and 12 guns vs. 2550 Americans, 15 naval vessels, and 85 cannon), and lost the battle, but the Americans suffered almost double the casualties of the British when the British blew up their own gunpowder magazine. The battle lasted six hours and cost 157 British lives and 320 American lives, including the American field commander. Afterwards, the Americans burned and looted the city of York, including the Government House and the Parliament Buildings (see above), and occupied the town for six days.
The Battle of York was a clear victory for the Americans, and marked their first invasion of British territory since the start of the war. But the battle itself wasn’t considered crucial to the outcome of the war and the Americans saw taking York merely as a stepping stone to the real prize: the Niagara Peninsula and, eventually, Kingston.
The Battle of Fort McHenry, on the other hand, was considered a turning point in the war, saved Baltimore from British invasion, and contributed to the early mythology of a nation still trying to forge its identity.
As for me, a gap in my Canadian history education has been filled, and my knowledge about the War of 1812 is now more complete. My government would be proud of me.
Since September, I’ve been spending most of my days at the University of British Columbia (UBC). It’s a beautiful campus located on the Point Grey peninsula of the west side of Vancouver. This is a photo I took in early October of the Biomedical Research Centre I walk by each day on my way from the bus loop to my office. I liked the contrast between the blue sky and the red ivy.
The Sylvia Hotel is a small beachside hotel in Vancouver’s English Bay with a long and storied history. These photos were taken when the hotel is at its most colourful —in the fall, after the ivy has turned red.
The hotel has some other colour as well: Errol Flynn was a frequent guest and there is an urban legend that he died here. Team Russia, including (it was rumoured) the Russian hockey team, stayed at the Sylvia during the Vancouver 2010 Olympics.
The Sylvia Hotel has overlooked English Bay since 1912. Originally an apartment building, it was converted to an apartment hotel during the 1930s and to a full-service hotel after World War II. Its name is taken from the daughter of the building’s original owner. Until 1958, the Sylvia was the tallest building in Vancouver’s West End — hard to imagine today as the eight-storey building is dwarfed by the condo towers that surround it.
Two of my home exchangers came to Vancouver for family weddings and found the Sylvia most convenient for other members of their families to stay. It’s a lovely place to go for breakfast — I recommend the Beachside Benny — and the hotel is also the setting of two children’s books about a resident cat named Mister Got to Go.
A friend was in town this week on business, so I met up with him one evening after work. We went for drinks and something to eat and a long catch-up at a bar near his hotel that overlooks Canada Place.
Afterwards, we took some photos. Here’s mine.
After a beautiful, warm fall, the rainy season has descended on Vancouver. Although not the wettest October on record, we did get almost double the average rainfall — and it all fell in the past two weeks.
Wet fall weather makes me homesick for Paris, of all places. Two years ago today, I arrived in that city for an extended visit. It rained the first ten days I was there; I remember thinking at the time, “And they say Vancouver gets a lot of rain??”
I didn’t mind, though. I felt right at home.
Here’s the first photo I took on that visit.
Looking at TV and Internet images of natural disasters is always tough, but never more so when you’re familiar with the region or you know people in the disaster zone. Such was the case for me this week. Hurricane Sandy ran right over the cities I visited last summer and I nervously waited to hear from people near and dear to me in Baltimore and New York City who both, thankfully, made it through to the other side of Sandy unscathed.
I was talking about the hurricane with a colleague on Tuesday morning, and I tried to explain to her the geography of New York City as she doesn’t know the city. That conversation made me think of the video I shot last summer from the Staten Island Ferry.
The Staten Island Ferry runs between the boroughs of Manhattan and Staten Island. It’s a free service, and I love ferry boats, so I hopped on one morning to get a good look at Lower Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty from the water. It’s about a 30-minute ride for the five-mile trip. On the Staten Island side, most tourists ― as did I ― turn around and hop right back on the ferry for the return trip to Manhattan.
The ferry connects with the subway on the Manhattan side. As you’ll see in the video, it was a bit of a blustery day when I took my ferry ride. After I disembarked, I stood at the subway entrance for a few minutes, debating whether to head Uptown on the train (much faster) or the bus (much better view). The subway station where I stood that morning (South Ferry – Whitehall Street) had water up to its ceiling on Monday night, and as far as I understand is still flooded.
I decided on the bus just as the skies opened up. It turned out to be a bit of a wild ride because of the weather. At each stop, New Yorkers poured onto the bus holding newspapers over their heads, and through the open bus doors I could see water gushing down the street.
But back to the video. The reason I wanted to show it to you is so you can see just how low Lower Manhattan is. Much of the southern tip of the island is, in fact, reclaimed land. (The Dutch were the first Europeans to settle on Manhattan, and they know a thing or two about reclaiming land.) You can see Battery Park in the video ― it’s those trees to the left. That’s the park I so enjoyed walking through last summer, and it too was badly flooded on Monday night. It’s not hard to imagine how much damage the record-breaking 13-foot storm surge could cause in this city. The East River is to the right, spanned by the Brooklyn Bridge, and the river to the far left is the Hudson.
Both ferry terminals of the Staten Island Ferry were damaged by Hurricane Sandy. As of this writing, partial service is expected to resume on Friday.