“At last the people of Canada have realized their responsibility and the debt they owe the Empire. Canada has thrown off her swaddling clothes and stands forth as a full-grown member of the family which makes up the Empire.” — Frederick Borden, Canadian minister of militia and defence, in a speech sending off troops to the Second Boer War, October 1899
Remembrance Day evolved out of post-First World War commemorations of the armistice that ended that conflict — but it was far from the first day Canada set aside to reflect on those who have served our country. During the first two decades of the 20th century, February 27 was marked as Paardeberg Day to remember those who fought and fell during the Second Boer War and to celebrate the British Empire.
The Second Boer War was the first conflict in which Canadians had fought in significant numbers overseas. It arose over tensions that had been simmering for decades in southern Africa between the British and the Boers — Dutch-descended settlers who established two white-ruled republics whose independence was established after the First Boer War in 1880-1881. The discovery of gold in the Witerwatersrand Basin in the mid-1880s led to an influx of British migrants seeking their fortunes.
The Boers feared being overwhelmed, while the new settlers (known as uitlanders) complained about excessive taxation and the slow process of gaining voting rights. Imperialists like Cecil Rhodes envisioned wider British commercial and political control of the region, leading to the disastrous Jameson Raid in 1895-1896. Negotiations between the British and the Boers failed, and on October 9, 1899, South African Republic President Paul Kruger issued an ultimatum: the British had 48 hours to remove the few troops it had near the border or else he and the Orange Free State would declare war. Within days, fighting broke out.
The British Colonial Office did not believe troops from the empire were required militarily, as previous conflicts had shown that it took a long time to bring volunteers up to British standards. But Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain believed they would be useful as a symbolic show of strength to European skeptics. As early as July 1899, Edward Hutton, the general officer commanding of the Canadian military, worked with Governor-General Lord Minto to draft a plan to send 1,200 troops to southern Africa whenever conflict broke out (the British had suggested 500, but the pair felt this was insufficient). The plan remained secret until Hutton shared it with Minister of Militia and Defence Frederick Borden (a cousin of future prime minister Robert Borden) in September. It was also leaked to friendly imperalist-leaning newspapers, such as the Montreal Star, which published it by the end of the month.
Prime Minister Wilfrid Laurier was not happy about the plan or the fact that it had been cooked up behind his back. Laurier had little desire to send or fund troops, knowing that doing so would offend his base among French Canadians, who sympathized with the Boers as a people bullied by the British and potentially facing assimilation. Laurier’s cabinet was divided between English MPs who wanted to participate and his Quebec caucus, who thought Canada had no business sending troops when it had little voice in imperial affairs. One rising backbencher, Henri Bourassa, resigned his seat on the grounds that the Boers were no threat to Canada and that participation could set a bad precedent for the future.
Laurier was furious that Hutton, Minto, and the English-Canadian press had trapped him into a commitment. He successfully reached a compromise: Canada would organize, equip, and send over a contingent of volunteers under the 2nd (Special Service) Battalion of the Royal Canadian Regiment of Infantry. Once the troops reached Africa, they’d be a British responsibility.
While volunteer interest was low in Quebec and southwestern Ontario, elsewhere in eastern Canada, interest was high enough that there were more volunteers than spaces. To cut the numbers down, volunteers were assessed on their health, marksmanship, and previous military experience. Some who signed up sought spots as commissioned officers, feeling their loyalty to the Liberals merited patronage positions.
As the volunteers assembled across the province to journey to Quebec City for their official departure, crowds followed. In Woodstock, a public holiday was declared for an hour during the mid-afternoon, and around 4,000 people showed up to see the troops off. Among those departing was a lone volunteer from Delhi, Ontario, who received $50 from the townspeople who accompanied him.
In Toronto, business came to a halt on October25. The volunteers gathered at the city armoury, which was packed with loved ones and other patriotic onlookers. “In every part of the building pathetic scenes were witnessed, as mothers and sisters and daughters bade tearful adieu to loved ones,” the Hamilton Spectator reported. “And even the onlookers wiped away furtive tears which sprang unbidden in the eye as they witnessed the affecting scenes.” Mayor John Shaw addressed the troops, telling them about the realities of war, “where much hard fighting is yet to be done; going where hardships will have to be endured and suffering borne; where men are wounded; where men are killed.” The troops paraded through downtown and were inspected by Lieutenant-Governor Oliver Mowat as they passed his official residence. At Union Station, initially only ticket holders for other trains were allowed to see them off from the platforms, but the crowd was so large that everyone was eventually granted access.
The full contingent departed from Quebec City on October 30 aboard the SSSardinian. The month-long voyage was unpleasant — the ship, recently converted from transporting cattle, was cramped and dirty, leading to many bouts of dysentery and seasickness. When they reached Africa, they realized that their Canadian-produced equipment was awful. Uniforms chafed and rotted quickly, greatcoats were too thin, water bottles were too small, and the saddles they used wore out their horses.
The contingent was commanded by veteran Canadian officer William Otter, who oversaw two months of training. Described by historian J.L. Granatstein as “a dour, humourless man with no capacity to inspire,” Otter was loathed by those who served under him for his harsh insistence on discipline and his tendency to argue with his officers.
On February 12, 1900, the contingent joined a British force on its way to relieve the siege at Kimberley, which was under attack by Boer commander General Piet Cronje. Attempting to slip away, Cronje’s troops were caught by British cavalry near Paardeberg Drift on the Modder River. Instead of fleeing, Cronje went on the defensive, but he faced plenty of British artillery. The Canadians arrived on February 18, and both sides endured horrible conditions over the next week. Supplies grew scarce, and drinking water was limited, as the river filled with corpses.
The Canadians were ordered to participate in a pre-dawn raid on February 27. After an initially slow advance, an alarm was tripped, and chaos ensued on both sides. Two of the Canadian companies didn’t hear a call to retreat, so found a strong position and kept firing at the Boers. Just after daybreak, the Boers raised white flags.
The battle was viewed as a turning point in the war, and over the new few months, the British celebrated a number of victories. The Canadians were praised for their performance — as British Field Marshal Frederick Roberts put it, “Canadian now stands for bravery, dash, and courage.” Back home, celebrations erupted across Ontario when word of the victory was received. Brantford, for example, saw a rapid display of flags, steam whistles blowing across the city, a half-day school holiday, and the firing of the cannon at the local drill hall.
As the conflict descended into guerilla warfare, most of the original contingent decide to return home once their year of service was up. A mix of units raised by the government and private backers continued to head over until the war ended in spring 1902. Numbers vary as to how many served (between 7,368 and 8,372) and how many died (between 222 and 267, most of them from illness).
Back home, the war exacerbated conflicts between jingoistic English Canadians and French Canadians, leading to incidents such as the Montreal Flag Riot of March 1900, which saw students from McGill University and the local campus of Laval University (now the Université de Montréal) violently clash.
There were other loose cannons to worry about. Chief among them was Sam Hughes, the Conservative MP for Victoria North (located in present-day Kawartha Lakes) and a lieutenant-colonel in the militia. He wrote to both Borden and Chamberlain, offering to lead his own private brigade or regiment. He also believed amateurs performed better in battle than professional soldiers. Despite official attempts to keep him quiet and Hutton’s objections to his presence, Hughes sailed with the troops. He proved a nuisance, declaring himself independent of all military authority.
As The Oxford Companion to Canadian Military History observes, “his refusal to follow orders, his attacks on British generals, and his shameless self-promotion in letters to the Canadian media led to his sacking. Hughes claimed he ought to have won two Victoria Crosses during the war, awards supposedly denied him by jealous professional soldiers.” His subsequent erratic behaviour during the First World War has given historians plenty to write about.
As the war wound down, February 27 was commemorated as Paardeberg Day. Though it never became an official holiday, it served as an annual occasion to remember the dead, celebrate the veterans who survived, and toast the British Empire. Usually it involved ceremonies held around the growing number of war memorials built across the province between 1902 and the First World War; sculptor Walter Allward (who went on to design the memorial at Vimy) created one that still stands on University Avenue in downtown Toronto. Evenings saw special dinners during which veterans traded stories, sang battlefield songs, and listened to endless speeches.
The focal point for many Paardeberg Day activities was Ottawa. Marjorie Cook, the daughter of the city’s mayor, laid the first wreath in front of its memorial in 1902, a duty she continued into the 1950s. Organizations such as the Canadian Artillery Association and the Dominion of Canada Rifle Association and other smaller groups met in Ottawa around Paardeberg Day as part of an unofficial “military week.” The groups discussed and shared papers and lobbied the federal government for better pay, personal favours, and changes to military policies. Borden often participated in these gatherings, giving speeches and cultivating support for his policies.
Paardeberg Day’s significance began to fade during the First World War. During its national annual meeting in 1917, the Imperial Order Daughters of the Empire decided that, since the Boers were now Canadian allies, there was no need to the celebrate their defeat. After the war, Armistice Day became the primary day of remembrance. Commemorative services and dinners continued in areas with major military outposts, though they gradually faded away as veterans passed on. As late as 1935, the Border Cities Star in Windsor suggested that February 27 was “a date which should hold pre-eminence over all others as an anniversary on which Canadians should pause for a moment of silence.”
Historian Desmond Morton, in his book A Military History of Canada, observed that the Second Boer War “did much to encourage a naïve military enthusiasm in Canada. Newspapers boasted of Canadian exploits, and suppressed most criticism of Canadian defects.”
Sources: Punching Above Our Weight: The Canadian Military at War Since 1867 by David A. Borys (Toronto: Dundurn, 2024); Canada’s Army: Waging War and Keeping the Peace (Third Edition) by J.L. Granatstein (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2021); The Oxford Companion to Canadian Military History by J.L. Granatstein and Dean F. Oliver (Don Mills: Oxford University Press, 2011); Fighting With the Empire: Canada, Britain, and Global Conflict, 1867-1947, Steve Marti and William John Pratt, editors (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2019); A Knight in Politics: A Biography of Sir Frederick Borden by Carman Miller (Kingston: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2010); A Military History of Canada (Fifth Edition) by Desmond Morton (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 2007); The Canadian General SirWilliam Otter by Desmond Morton (Toronto: Hakkert, 1974); the February 26, 1935, edition of the Border Cities Star; the October 26, 1899, and February 27, 1900, editions of the Hamilton Spectator; the October 26, 1899, edition of the Mail and Empire; and the October 26, 1899, edition of the Toronto Evening Star.