The Union Jack fluttered in the warm June breeze as the angry and defiant young man, pistol in hand, standing under it shouted, “We were born under this flag and what we have we’ll hold.”
On other side of the gate the group of men, bailiffs and officials stood baffled and undecided. The battle of Willow Park was reaching its climax.
This scene took place on the grounds of the Monaghan residence on what was then the extreme northern end of Windsor Street in Halifax on a warm June day in 1906, but the events that were to result in the brawling, raids and threats of shooting began many years before. What came to be known as the battle of Willow Park was the result, and before its conclusion it brought about a history-making trial that proved once again the adage that “An Englishman’s home is his caster” applies to an Irishman and a Canadian too.
In 1896 the Nova Scotia Exhibition Commission undertook to enlarge their recently acquired exhibition grounds at what was then the northern edge of Halifax, the area known as Willow Park. Plans were made to acquire by purchase all the land southward to Almon Street and eastward to include the area now occupied by city emergency housing (the race track). In the ensuing years, all this land was purchased or expropriated with the exception of a fine property of nearly three acres owned by Mr. Patrick Monaghan, who lived there with his wife, a daughter and six husky and spirited sons.
Mr. Monaghan refused all offers to buy his property and during the following four years the Commission bought all the land around him. The Monaghan house stood just south of and across the street from the end of the present Edinburgh Street, just south of where the Forum now stands, and its grounds and gardens were a scene of beauty in which the family took great pride. The Commission wished to erect the Main Entrance on this spot, and to build a grandstand at the rear of the property.
They continually urged the Monaghans to sell and finally threatened them with expropriation. Mr. Monaghan was in poor health, but not without influence in the city, and he secured a promise that no action would be taken while he was living and that he would be allowed to end his days in peace.
After his death in 1900, the Commission renewed their efforts to buy the property. The brothers refused all offers. The matter dragged on until about 1905. It was during this year that it was announced that the Dominion Exhibition would be held in Halifax in the summer of 1906. This spurred the Commission with a sense of urgency and when their final offer of four thousand dollars was refused they went to court to expropriate the land. They maintained that securing this land was absolutely essential to the success of the Dominion Exhibition and that haste was necessary as the Monaghan buildings had to be demolished to enable them to construct their entrance building.
The Monaghan brothers ignored the proceedings and did not contest the expropriation. In due course, early spring of 1906, the Commission paid four thousand dollars into the court and then in June tried to take possession of the property, which they now considered theirs. They did not reckon with the temper of the Monaghans.
On the afternoon set for taking over the Monaghan home, the secretary of the Commission, accompanied by a bailiff and half a dozen workmen bearing stakes, entered the property and approached the house. The Monaghans have been warned several times to vacate the premises and were threatened with eviction, but they blithely ignored all such notices. The Commission now intended to go ahead laying out their lines.
The only one at home was James Duggan Monaghan, then in his thirties, and a young English house-maid employed by the family. The other brothers were at work. When Doug Monaghan realized the bailiff was at the gate he hastened outside and met the party of men in the driveway halfway to the house. He was informed that he was being evicted and his reply was to order them from the land.
Tempers flared and threats were hurled by both sides. The young house-maid had followed Duggan out and in anger he turned to her and said “There’s a pistol and box of ammunition in my dresser drawer. Run and get it.”
The girl hastened away but before her return Monaghan and the two officials were exchanging blows. They had decided to remove Monaghan from the property forcibly. They found, however, that they were unable to do it, and the workmen stood by, refusing to take any part in the already uneven contest. Young Monaghan had the shirt ripped from his back in the scuffle but when the girl returned and pressed the loaded revolver into his hand the tables were turned.
“Run and get the boys home,” he instructed her.
His Irish temper thoroughly aroused he turned to his persecutors.
I’ll give you until I count three to get off our land. Then, so help me God, I’ll shoot.”
The invaders lost no time in getting back to the sidewalk. Monaghan followed them and slammed the low gate behind them.
“Now,” he said through his teeth, “that gate is going to be chained and padlocked and God help any one of you that dares open it again.”
The officials stood for some minutes uncertainly but when the other brothers started to arrive on the scene, breathless from running but armed with cudgels and full of fight, the officials withdrew, muttering threats of legal action.
The next day none of the Monaghans went to work. They decided their land had to be guarded day and night if they were to hold it. And they were all greatly determined that hold it they would, even if bloodshed resulted.
The next afternoon the secretary of the Exhibition Commission arrived back. He was accompanied by the bailiff and a dozen workmen and found the gate solidly locked and nailed, Duggan Monaghan on guard.
He first tried to serve a summons on Duggan. But by the oddest chance Duggan Monaghan had a twin brother – an identical twin named Joseph Patrick, and they were so much alike that often their own brothers couldn’t tell them apart.
In succeeding days, each claiming to be the other, they completely baffled the process servers and the game of trying to serve papers on the Monaghans provided a hearty laugh for the public who were following the affair with interest and amusement. Of course, the twins made it a point never to let a constable catch them together.
When the secretary saw that he was accomplishing nothing, he departed, but within an hour returned with a party of six or eight strong-arm men he had recruited on the streets. Without warning the carpenters cut out a section of the fence next to the gate and the raiders moved in towards the house.
The brothers swarmed out like angry bees. A Donnybrook ensued on the front lawn, both sides armed with clubs. The battle was furious but brief. One of the Commission’s hirelings received a broken arm, several had their skulls laid open, and finally Duggan Monaghan seized the bailiff around the neck with his left arm, and drawing his pistol with his right he pressed it into the bailiff’s cheek, shouting, “Hold it. Hold it everybody. Stop right where you are.”
The battle stopped and all stood watching.
“If anybody makes a move I’ll blow this man’s head off,” roared the enraged defender.
He then said to the frightened man he was holding. “Tell that scum to get back outside the fence.”
The helpless bailiff complied and the raiders withdrew. Keeping the pistol pressed savagely into the man’s cheek Monaghan snarled. “Now get back out there yourself, and if you ever come back I’ll blow your head off.”
A considerable number of spectators had gathered along the street outside and they cheered. The Monaghans had a tall flagpole in front of the house and customarily flew the Union Jack during the summer months. At this time the flagpole was broken, so Doug had rigged a rope to a large branch of a tree overhanging the driveway, just inside the gate. He took up a position under the flag and defied his opponents.
A sergeant of the city police force was among the spectators and the secretary called upon him to arrest the Monaghans. He refused to.
“I’m only here to see there is no disturbance on the streets,” he said. “What the Monaghans do on their own property is their business.”
Needless to say, the fracas at the Monaghan homestead was reported in the press and great public interest was aroused. From the very first public sympathy was with the Monaghans and their bold action stirred the imagination of the people. The next two days there was no action and the brothers patrolled their property constantly, one of them taking post at the broken section of fence with a rifle. They were not molested.
Then the Commission tried a different course. They made a confidential offer to the family to pay an additional one thousand dollars, secretly and off the record, if they would acknowledge the expropriation and go quietly. Their offer was met with scorn and refusal.
Two weeks went by. The Monaghans knew the Commission had not given up but they were worried about their jobs. They had not been able to go to work since the day of the fight. They decided they would have to chance it and go back to work.
They had many friends, however, and some of them must have been employed in the offices of the Commission, for one afternoon, soon after they had returned to work, they received a tip that a party was being assembled at the exhibition grounds to raid the house and take it by force. The Commission planned to remove the windows and doors and render the place uninhabitable, then proceed at once with tearing it down. The brothers quickly left their jobs and rallied at home, reinforced by six staunch friends and supporters.
A little cautious scouting around revealed that the Commission was gathering a party of thirty carpenters and twelve strong-arm men in the exhibition grounds and the plan was to cut out a section of the high board fence at the north side of the Monaghan grounds and attack the house from the rear.
The Monaghans stationed a man, armed with a cudgel, at every window and door, while the brothers, armed with pistols, rifles and clubs, formed up at the rear of the house.
They were not long in position when they could hear the raiders working quietly on the other side of the fence. Suddenly a section of fence dropped forward and the mob of more than forty men poured forward onto the Monaghan property.
They were completely taken by surprise when they came face to face with the armed and grimly determined brothers. The carpenters, who were only there to work and carry out orders pertaining to their trade, halted and took no part in the ensuing conflict. The toughs, who had been recruited to seize the property by force, swiftly circled the defenders and running around the house, attempted to gain entry at the doors and windows. Their dismay was complete when a club was swung at them from every point where they tried to force their way in. The Monaghans made after them and in a very few minutes drove them off and forced their withdrawal to the exhibition grounds.
The Monaghans, a spirited family, were now ready to carry the fight farther. The attempt to forcibly enter their home aroused public indignation and at this point the brothers appealed directly to the Lieutenant-Governor of Nova Scotia. Lieutenant-Governor Fraser, father of Hon. Alistair Fraser, received them graciously and at once arranged for an injunction to be issued, ordering the Exhibition Commission to refrain from further molesting the Monaghans. The case was placed on the Supreme Court calendar, hearing set for October.
This in itself was a major defeat for the Commission as the Dominion Exhibition would be over. So the Battle of Willow Park ended, but the more important court battle was still to come.
At the trial, the Commission stood upon the facts of the case as they saw them. Their principle was that they had followed the correct legal procedure, had legally expropriated the property and paid the money. They were now merely trying to take possession of what was legally their property.
The Monaghan case rested upon the simple premise of common law that a man’s home is his castle, and as long as he wished to defend that home, it could not be taken from him by expropriation. They maintained this principle of common law overruled all laws of expropriation.
The Monaghans won the case.
This trial was considered so unique and important that the proceedings of the court in full detail were printed, in limited number, in book form, and today is a treasured collectors’ item. The case can be considered a legal classic.
The Monaghans eventually sold the land to the Commission in 1923 for $15,000. Today, the south end of the Forum rests just about on its boundary, and the grandstand occupies the rear portion. It would probably be worth at least $75,000 today, and the sad part of it is that obtaining the land to complete the exhibition grounds, the whole establishment was permitted to deteriorate until it can no longer really be classed as an exhibition ground.
Duggan Monaghan is still living in Halifax, an active, busy man, who when asked his age replies, “You can say I’m well into my eighties”.
He still goes to work everyday at Moirs where he has been employed for sixty-six years. His other activities are many and include the care of his large and beautiful flower gardens, lifetime membership on the executive of the Mayflower Curling Club, and an ex-officio member of the Halifax Rifles Officers’ Mess. He is a retired colonel of the Rifles and first marched with them as a boy of about ten or twelve, when he followed them from the Armouries to the train that was to take them to Saskatchewan to put down the Riel rebellion in 1885.
His spacious home is a treasure-house of mementos of Halifax in an early age, but none stir his blood or bring a flash of anger and triumph to his eye like the pictures and newspaper of the Battle of Willow Park.
“They just made one mistake,” he says with a grim chuckle. “They took on the Monaghans.”