[Illustration: THIS MAP WILL HELP YOU TO UNDERSTAND (left half)]
[Illustration: DAVID THOMPSON'S JOURNEYS (right half)]
CANADIAN MEN OF ACTION--NUMBER II.
The Series edited by W. Stewart Wallace, Librarian
of the University of Toronto.
DAVID THOMPSON
DAVID THOMPSON
THE EXPLORER
BY
CHARLES NORRIS COCHRANE
Associate Professor of Ancient History,
University College, Toronto
TORONTO
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA LIMITED
1924
Copyright, Canada, 1924
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA LIMITED
Printed in Canada
PREFATORY NOTE
I wish to acknowledge the great debt which I owe to Mr. J. B. Tyrrell
for the use of material contained in his edition of Thompson's
_Narrative_.
It was Mr. Tyrrell who first rescued the name of Thompson from the
undeserved oblivion into which it had sunk. Those who are familiar
with his introduction and notes, will recognize how largely I have
borrowed from them in preparing this short life.
C. N. C.
June 1924.
CONTENTS
I APPRENTICED TO THE COMPANY 1770-1786
II HE FINDS HIS MÉTIER 1786-1791
III TRADER, SURVEYOR, EXPLORER 1791-1797
IV WITH THE NORTH-WESTERS 1797-1798
V EIGHT YEARS OF TRADING 1798-1806
VI ACROSS THE GREAT DIVIDE 1806-1810
VII THE RACE TO THE SEA 1810-1812
VIII LAST YEARS 1812-1857
DAVID THOMPSON
CHAPTER I
APPRENTICED TO THE COMPANY
On the 30th of December, 1783, the Governors of the Grey Coat School
at Westminster, England, received from the secretary of the Hudson's
Bay Company a request for four boys, trained in navigation, to be
apprenticed to the Company for service at their posts in America. At
that time, there were in the school but two boys so qualified--Samuel
John McPherson and David Thompson. The one was so terrified by the
prospect of perils and hardships unknown, that within a week he ran
away from the school and was heard of no more. The other accepted
the destiny for which he had been marked out, and became one of the
greatest land surveyors that the British race has ever produced.
When David Thompson was called before the Headmaster to be informed
of his fate, he was in his fourteenth year, and had been for nearly
seven years a pupil in the school. No description exists of the poor
charity boy as he then was; but from accounts given of him in later
life, it is possible to imagine his appearance. Though he was short
of stature, his sturdy frame already gave promise of the strength
that was to enable him to drive his canoe through the currents and
eddies of the western waterways, or trudge at the head of his men
across the plains in the teeth of a December blizzard. His
complexion was ruddy, though his smooth cheeks were not as yet tanned
and furrowed by a life of exposure to the sun and wind of the great
North West. The straight, black hair which hung down over his
forehead combined with a stub nose to give him an odd look. Yet
there must have been already evident, in his expression, the
animation and kindliness which in after years distinguished him, and
suggested at once the boldness and fire of Curran the Irish orator,
and the strength and piety of the puritan Bunyan, both of whom he is
said to have greatly resembled.
Thompson's parents were Welsh, and had borne the name of ApThomas
until they had come to live in London. It was there in the parish of
St. John the Evangelist, that David was born on the last day of
April, in the year 1770. While yet a mere child, he was left an
orphan by the death of his father. So poor was the family that the
dead man had to be buried at the expense of the parish, and the
widow, with David and a still younger infant, was left alone to face
the hardships of life in the metropolis. The boy, however, must have
shown unusual promise; because, while still quite young, he attracted
the attention of a certain Abram Acworth. Through the recommendation
of this otherwise unknown benefactor, he was at the age of seven
accepted as a scholar by the Governors of the Grey Coat School.
The Grey Coat School was a royal foundation "the principall designe
of which" was "to educate poor children in the principles of piety
and virtue, and thereby lay the foundations for a sober and Christian
life". Almost within the shadow of Westminster Abbey, the old
building is still to be seen---a red brick house, built in the
Elizabethan manner, its walls covered with grape-vine and Virginia
creeper, standing in the midst of a large garden and playground.
In the school, Thompson found himself a member of the class in
mathematics, and received such training in geography, algebra,
mechanics, and the art of navigation as was possible with the aid of
texts, many of which were at that time a century old. In those days
books were scarce and dear; and, for their general reading, the boys
had to be satisfied with such miscellaneous works as came their way.
These were passed eagerly from hand to hand, and as eagerly read and
discussed. Youthful imaginations were excited by the romantic
adventures of the Persian and Arabian tales, or by the travels of
Robinson Crusoe and Gulliver in strange lands and among strange
peoples.
Within five minutes' walk of the school was the Abbey and its
cloisters. His hours of recreation David spent mainly in wandering
through the venerable pile, reading the history of England on the
monuments of her heroic dead, and drinking in the beauty of the
architecture, especially that of the noble Henry VII Chapel. On
other occasions, when chance offered, he would stroll through the
Strand and Fleet Street as far east as London Bridge or westward to
Chelsea, rich in historical memories and famous for its beautiful
lawns. Other favourite haunts were St. James' Park and Spring
Gardens in Vauxhall, across the Thames. Forty years of wandering
through rock and forest, by plain and mountain, served merely to
render yet more vivid his boyish recollection of the city and its
parks "where all was beauty to the eye and verdure to the feet."
Thompson's school days, however, were now to be cut short. By the
20th of May, 1784, the formalities were completed by which he was
bound apprentice to the Hudson's Bay Company for seven years; and he
at once embarked from the Port of London on the Company's ship,
_Prince Rupert_, en route for North America. The lines were cast
off, and the vessel with its cargo of goods for the Indian trade
drifted lazily down stream with the tide, carrying Thompson away for
ever from the sights and sounds of London, which he knew and loved so
well.
The voyage was uneventful, except for the usual incidents that
attended the westward journey of the Company's annual fleet. Not a
detail, however, escaped the keen eye of the young traveller,
unaccustomed as he was to anything but the quiet life of the school,
and thirsting to see something of the world, which he knew only in
the pages of Gulliver and Robinson Crusoe. The ship sailed up the
North Sea to Stromness in the Orkneys, there to wait three weeks for
the two vessels which were to accompany her across the Atlantic, and
to receive final instructions and sailing orders. As they lay in the
harbour of Stromness, Thompson's keen eyes noted the strange life of
the kelp-burners on shore, men, women, and children who, half-naked,
gathered the dripping sea-weed in baskets, and lugged it on their
shoulders to the kilns. Gazing at the rocky shore line and the low,
dark cottages with their smoky peat fires, which dotted the barren
hills, he was smitten with regret for the rich meadows and woods of
England, and for a moment he wished himself back amid the scenes of
his school life. Yet in his rambles ashore, the lad found much to
interest him. He observed with amusement the quaint habits of the
cottagers, who combined a brisk trade in smuggled liquor with lengthy
and solemn weekly devotions at the old-fashioned Kirk by the shores
of the harbour.
Sailing orders finally arrived from London, and the little fleet was
soon off on its hazardous journey across the stormy North Atlantic.
Presently the sight of icebergs drifting south with the Arctic
current, warned the crews that they were nearing Hudson Straits. It
was a month before they had worked their way through the floating ice
of the Straits; after which the three ships separated, one for the
factories at Moose and Albany rivers, the second for York, while the
Prince Rupert, with Thompson aboard, headed _for Churchill_, the most
northerly of the Company's settlements on the west side of the Bay.
Before long, they sighted the granite coast, which they followed
southward. This ended at Churchill in a low point of rock and sand,
surmounted by the grim stone battlements of Fort Prince of Wales,
which two years before had been gutted by the French in their raid on
the Bay. Rounding this point, they found themselves in the mouth of
the Churchill, a noble stream, almost a mile in breadth. Up the
river they made their way for a distance of five miles to a small bay
at the head of the estuary, where they cast anchor before the log
huts of the still unfinished new fort.
The arrival of the annual ship was the event of the year. Hurried
preparations were made for discharging the cargo of provisions for
the factory and supplies for the Indian trade, and taking on board
the year's accumulation of furs, which were destined to adorn the
persons of the fashionable world of England and the Continent. In
the midst of this confusion, the new apprentice was taken ashore, and
within ten days the _Prince Rupert_ sailed away, leaving him to face
the rigours of his new life on the dismal shores of Hudson Bay.
It was indeed a new life in which David Thompson found himself.
Apart from the officers, there was a staff of sixty artisans and
servants in the fort. These were all busy from dawn till dark; for,
besides conducting their trade with the Indians, they had to maintain
themselves as a community in an utterly barren land. At six each
morning in summer, and eight in winter, the duty bell summoned to
their toil, accountant, steward, armourer, shipwright, carpenter,
cooper, blacksmith, mason, tailor, and labourers. Assisted by his
officers, the governor, gorgeous in scarlet tunic and ruffles, his
sword and pistols in his belt, supervised the labours of the factory.
By the early part of October, the myriads of wild geese and ducks
which each summer lived in the vast swamps to the south of Churchill
had winged their way to warmer climes. The middle of the month saw
the marshes stiff with frost, and snow lying on the ground. The
polar bear made his appearance, waiting for the ice to extend some
distance from the shore, when he left to prey on the seal, his
favourite food. By the fifteenth of November, the broad and deep
river was frozen solid from bank to bank, not to break up until the
middle of June in the following year. Till the end of December, the
staff were able to keep the yard of the fort clear of snow. At that
time, a three days' blow from the north-east filled the fort with
snow to a depth of six feet, with drifts as high as the stockades.
Thereafter it was enough if they could keep paths cleared from one
hut to another.
The cold was intense. The noise of rocks split by the frost broke
the silence of the night with a sound like that of a cannon shot. On
the interior walls of the still unfurnished huts, the rime collected
to a depth of four inches, and on this the shivering inhabitants
threw pails of water in order that it might form a coat of ice to
increase the warmth of the houses. Owing to the haste with which the
huts had been thrown up, there had been no time to lay in a
sufficient supply of firewood for the winter; and all the wood that
could be gathered for fuel allowed only one fire in the morning and
one in the evening. During the rest of the day, if the weather was
bad, Thompson, with the others, had to pace the guard room floor,
muffled to the eyes in his beaver coat, in order to keep himself from
freezing. On clear days, however, he passed his time in shooting
grouse, and this activity he enjoyed except for the tumbles in the
snow and the sore feet and ankles that resulted from his eager
efforts to walk in snow-shoes.
The dreary winter seemed endless, when, in the middle of June, summer
burst with the suddenness of dawn in the Tropics, bringing with it
torments which made Thompson regret even the discomforts of winter.
"Hudson Bay," he says in his narrative, "is certainly a country which
Sinbad the sailor never saw, for he makes no mention of musketoes."
These pests rose from the marshes in clouds, driving man and beast to
distraction. The dogs in the fort howled in their agony, rolling
themselves on the ground and hiding in the pools. Even the fox was
in a fighting humour, barking and snapping; and, hungry though he
was, he was forced to seek shelter in his hole.
Such was Thompson's first year on the Bay. He had expected, when he
reached the Fort, to be employed as a clerk, but he soon found that
his only business was to amuse himself, "in winter growling at the
cold, and in the open season shooting gulls, duck, and plover and
quarreling with musketoes and sand flies." Fortunately, however, he
had for company three of the officers of the factory, the deputy
governor, the sloop-master, and the surgeon. To these gentlemen he
felt himself greatly indebted for the loan of various books on
history and natural science, by reading which he was able to put his
hours of idleness to profitable use.
The governor at that time was Samuel Hearne, a handsome giant with a
rubicund face. It was Hearne who in 1782 had surrendered without a
blow the great stone fort at the mouth of the river. That fort had
cost the Company forty years to build, and it was barely completed
when Hearne raised the white flag at the challenge of the French
admiral, La Pérouse. To the mind of young Thompson, this act was
enough to stamp the governor as a coward. It was, none the less, the
same Hearne who had succeeded in penetrating as far North as the
mouth of the Coppermine river, and was thus the first white man to
reach the margin of the Arctic ocean. Nevertheless, Thompson
disliked him. Like so many others at the close of the eighteenth
century, Hearne was infected with the doctrines of Voltaire, and his
atheism shocked the sensitive mind of the pious boy. To a lad of
Thompson's ambition, the life of a hunter afforded no sort of
satisfaction, and he dreaded lest he should succumb to the deadening
influence of his surroundings. He complained to Hearne that his lack
of clerical employment might lead to the loss of his penmanship, and
was barely satisfied when the governor handed him an invoice or two
to copy, and gave him occupation for a few days upon the manuscript
of his _Journey to the North_.
The idleness of which Thompson complained was, however, to end before
long. With the arrival of the annual ship in 1785, orders came that
the young apprentice should proceed to York factory, the principal
dépôt of the Company, situated near the mouth of the Hayes river, one
hundred and fifty miles further up the Bay. South of the Churchill,
the rim of granite which hems the coast recedes for some miles
inland, leaving a vast waste of marshy alluvial between the hills and
the water line. Trees there are none, and the monotony of the
landscape is relieved only by boulders which the ice has scattered
over the face of the land.
To journey on foot the length of this swamp, with two drunken Indians
alone for company, was enough to test the courage and reliance of a
boy of fifteen. Equipped with but a single blanket to protect him
from the chill of the September nights, the young David was ferried
across the river and put ashore on the south bank. The day was fine;
but the Indians had been given their usual gallon of grog on leaving
the fort, and they soon reduced themselves to a drunken stupor. A
night in the open, however, restored them to their senses. The next
morning the party made an early start, marching till evening without
breakfast or dinner. During the day, the Indians had shot a goose
and three ducks. When they finally came to something like a dry spot
by the bank of a stream, the wild fowl were hastily cooked and eaten;
and the wearied travellers, wrapped in their blankets, flung
themselves on the ground to sleep.
Day after day, they trudged along the beach at high water mark,
always wet and muddy. Innumerable creeks which drained the swamp
crossed their path and interrupted their progress. Finally they came
to the mighty Kissiskatchewan or Nelson river, on the north bank of
which the Indians had laid up a canoe. Paddling across to the south
shore, they crossed the tongue of low land that separates the mouth
of the Nelson from that of the Hayes river; and were at last in York.
The governor to whom Thompson reported was the notorious Humphrey
Marten. This old tyrant was now in his twenty-fourth year of service
with the Company. Surrounded by his numerous native wives and a
horde of half-breed children, he ruled the fort with a rod of iron.
The Indians who visited the factory he would beat most cruelly,
sending them away with revenge burning in their hearts. In the fort,
his subordinates felt the weight of his unbridled temper; and they
bowed to his brutality only because they feared his vindictiveness.
Amid such surroundings and under such a taskmaster, Thompson passed
the following year. He kept the accounts of the factory in his neat
handwriting, and joined with the rest of the staff in the hunting
necessary to supply the fort with food during the winter.