In 1865, after a rousing Fenian speech in the back room of a riverside gentleman’s club, Captain Fraser was beset with the fire of rebellion. The Irish Republican Brotherhood had always appealed to his fashion sense. They were above all snappy dressers -“…with tattered vests of fine brocade worn in tandem to striped trews of the tightest fit”. Captain Fraser never stood tall nor did he carry much weight in the legs but his shoulders and arms compensated for this handsomely. Fraser would decline a winter coat in a blizzard if only to preserve the muscular line of his shoulder. Fenian fashions suited him well, their politics soon followed. In 1867 he travelled to Ottawa and agreed to speak at a meeting of The British Anti-Compulsory Vaccination League. It was an opportunity to commiserate with dissenting subjects of the British empire and it’s there that he likely met Bridget Boyle. Only a short excerpt from his speech survives today but it was potent and poignant, at times even shocking. Several women succumb to fainting spells during Captain Fraser’s oration and it concluded with a lengthy standing ovation.
Deliver your body to this gentleman’s desire or you’re fired. Coercion is clear when it’s sex. Want the degree you earned? Get on your knees. Want to say goodbye before your elderly mother dies? Pull up that dress. Want to eat in this establishment? Let him slip a hand in your petticoat. Stranded by the roadside with a broken spoke? You have strong and soft milking hands, don’t you? Crossing the border to reunite with your family? You’ll need to provide favours, twice. If you want to keep your license to practice medicine, you’ll deliver release to the chair of the committee. If you’re hoping to immigrate, it’s automatic penetration. You were raped on the crossing and again in detention, do you really want to be deported now? This won’t hurt, just look away when the man sticks it in you. Voters won’t hold you down but, they’d love to watch as someone else does. You can say -“NO!” you can even scream it, no one will care. The nurses you accuse will cry in the cloakroom. Your tears will bring them to tears but they won’t dare tell a soul. You can cry yet no paper will publish account of those tears. You can beg and plead for your freedoms in vain. You can insist on your rights. They’ll line up learned men to tell you rape has historical precedence. They’ll tell you it’s part of civilization and submission is your “duty” to society. There’s no social pressure that will make you succumb willingly. No rumour, whisper or word campaign will earn your consent. It’s a rape the progressives want to call “making love” after they’re done. Without choice or consent, it’s still rape. To feed your family, to keep your house, to retain your citizenship the “choice” they’re giving you is to accept rape or suffer. When they’re done with you, they’ll move on to your children. They’re grooming them for a lifetime of rape and submission. When you refuse, they’ll usher them to the orphanage. Make a list of names and always remember who tried to force you, as if any of us could ever forget.
Capt A.F. Fraser -“The coercion and carnal venalities of compulsory vaccination.”
February 12th, 1869 Patrick James Whelan was hanged for the murder of Thomas D’Arcy McGee and he met his end with the name of Stanislas Brewer still weighing on his soul. In his final words he claimed he knew who had truly killed McGee but remained true to keeping the secret. Whelan’s wife Bridget had a passion for poetry and thus, Captain Fraser had gladly introduced her to the works of his ‘nom de plume’. Whelan kept his secret though the true identity of Brewer was never known to him. After his death Bridget returned to Montreal and remained an unvaccinated recluse.
Note: The site of the Fenian gentleman’s club is buried today under a small bungalow at 65 McKay Drive over in Barker’s point. There also exists a legend of buried Fenian gold on Ram island which explains numerous and peculiar holes along its landscape over the years.
