AFTERCLAPS.
The Seven Oaks affair was the most shocking episode that ever occurred
in North-Western history. The standing of the victims, including a
Governor appointed by the Hudson's Bay Company, his staff men of
position, the unexpectedness of the collison, the suddenness of the
attack, the destruction of life, the cruelty and injustice of the
killing, and the barbarous treatment of the bodies of the dead, by the
Bois-brulés war party, fill one with horror, and remind one of scenes of
butchery in dark Africa or the isles of the South Sea.
This is the more remarkable when it is considered that so far as known
in the whole two hundred years and more of the career of the Hudson's
Bay and Nor'-Wester Companies not so many officers and clerks of these
two Companies have altogether perished by violence as in this
unfortunate Seven Oaks disaster. No sooner was the massacre over than
the Bois-brulés took possession of Fort Douglas and were under the
command meantime of Cuthbert Grant. There was the greatest hilarity
among the Metis. This New Nation had been vindicated. About forty-five
men under arms held possession of the Fort. The dead left upon the field
were still exposed there days after the fight and were torn to pieces by
the wild birds and beasts. The body of Governor Semple was carried to
the Fort.
Word was meanwhile sent to Alexander Macdonell the partner who had
brought with him the Qu'Appelle contingent and had waited at Portage la
Prairie while Cuthbert Grant with his followers, chiefly disguised as
Indians, had gone on their bloody work. Macdonell on receiving the news
showed great satisfaction. He announced to those about him that Governor
Semple and five of his officers had been killed; and becoming more
enthusiastic shouted with an oath in French that twenty-two of the
English were slain. His company shouted with joy at his announcement.
Macdonell then went to Fort Douglas and took command of it. But what had
become of the Eastern Company from Fort William? Of this a discharged
non-commissioned officer, Huerter, of one of the mercenary regiments
which had fought for Britain against the Americans in the War of 1812
was with them, and gives a good account of the journey. We need only
deal with the ending of the expedition. Coming from Lake Winnipeg they
reached Nettly Creek two days after the fight at Seven Oaks, expecting
there to get news from the Western levy and Alexander Macdonell. But no
news of that Company having reached them they started in boats up the
Red River to reach the rendezvous agreed on at "Frog Plain," the spot
where Kildonan church stands to-day. From this point they expected to
meet with their Western reinforcement, and to move upon Fort Douglas and
capture it, as Governor Semple had done with Fort Gibraltar. Their
commander Archibald Norman McLeod was the senior officer and would later
take command.
They had on the 23rd of June gone but a little way when they were
surprised to meet seven or eight boats laden with men, women and
children. These were the fragment of the Colony which had refused to go
with Duncan Cameron down to Upper Canada. They had been sheltered in the
Fort during the time of the fight and now were rudely driven away from
the settlement, according to the announcement of Cuthbert Grant.
McLeod ordered the convoy of boats to stop and the Colonists to
disembark. Their boxes and packages were opened, including the late
Governor Semple's trunks, and examined for papers or letters which might
give important information to the captors. The Western levy now joined
them, and gave them full news of what had happened.
The Colonists were then ordered to re-embark and to proceed upon their
journey to their lonely place of banishment whither they had gone the
previous year--Jack River, near Norway House. One of the Bois-brulés
followed after them to make sure that they went upon their long voyage.
McLeod's party then pushed on with great glee to Fort Douglas and were
received with discharges of artillery and firearms. McLeod now took
command of the captured Fort.
Huerter, the discharged soldier, formerly mentioned, went to the field
of Seven Oaks about a week after the fight and confirmed Pambrun's
account.
A.N. McLeod now became the superior officer in the Fort and made
preparation for defending it. He himself occupied the late Governor
Semple's quarters and passed out compliments to white and native alike,
praising them for their daring, their adroitness and their success. A
great meeting was then gathered in the Governor's apartments and a levee
was held at which all of the servants and employees of the Company were
present, and in a speech McLeod told the audience that the English had
no right to build upon their lands without their permission--a new
doctrine surely.
Leaving Fort Douglas McLeod with his officers and the Bois-brulés all
mounted, made an imposing procession up to the site of old Fort
Gibraltar. Here Peguis, now the chief of the Saulteaux who had shown
such kindness to the settlers was camped, and to him and his followers
McLeod showed his great displeasure. The Indian always loved the
British-man, whom on the west coast he called, "King Shautshman," or
King George's man.
The Indian is taciturn, unemotional, and cautious. He knew that the
Bois-brulés had assumed their garb and committed the outrage of Seven
Oaks, and therefore the tribe were unwilling to be under the stigma
being thrown upon them. When McLeod had failed in his appeal, he laid
many sins to their charge. They had allowed the English to carry away
Duncan Cameron to Hudson Bay, they were a band of dogs, and he would
count them always as his enemies if they should hold to their English
friends. Peguis, who was a master diplomat, looked on with attention and
held his peace.
It was now about a week from the time of the massacre. Huerter, the
discharged soldier spoken of, rode down with a party from the Fort to
the field of Seven Oaks. He saw a number of human bodies scattered on
the plain, and in most cases the flesh had been torn off to the bone,
evidently by dogs and wolves.
Far from discouraging the talkative half-breeds, whose blood was up with
the sights of carnage, McLeod and his fellow-officers expressed their
approbation of the deeds done, and the Bois-brulés became boisterous in
detailing their victories. The worst of the whole, old Deschamps, a
French-Canadian, who murdered the disabled even when they cried for
quarter, drew forth as he detailed his valorous actions to Alexander
Macdonell, the exclamation, "What a fine, vigorous old man he is!" On
the evening of this Red-letter day of the visit to the Indian encampment
and to Seven Oaks, a wild and heathenish orgy took place. The
Bois-brulés bedecked their naked bodies with Indian trinkets and
executed the dance of victory, as had done their savage ancestors. The
effect of these dances is marvellous. By a contagious shout they excite
each other. They reach a frenzy which communicates itself with hypnotic
effect to the whole dancing circle. At times men tear their hair, cut
their flesh or even mutilate their limbs for life. The "tom-tom," or
Indian drum, adds to the power of monotonous rhythm and to the spirit of
excitement and frenzy.
To the partners McLeod and the others, however much in earnest the
actors might be, it afforded much amusement, and gave hope of a strength
and enthusiasm that would bind them fast to the "Nor'-Wester" side.
The struggle over and the battle won, while leaving the garrison
sufficient to hold the fort, ten days after the fight the partners and
those forming the Northern brigade, who were to penetrate to the wilds
to Athabasca, departed. They were following down the Red River and Lake
Winnipeg, in the very path which the fleeing Colonists had gone, but
they would turn toward the "Grand Rapids" at the spot where the great
river of the West pours into Lake Winnipeg, and by this way speed
themselves to the great hunting fields of the North. The departure of
what was called the Grand Brigade was signalized by an artillery salute
from Fort Douglas, which resounded through the wretched ruins of the
houses burnt the previous year, and over the fields deserted by the
Colonists and left to the chattering blackbird and the howling wolf.
Almost every race of people--however small--has its bard. Among the
Bois-brulés was the son of old Pierre Falcon, a French-Canadian, of some
influence among the natives. This young poet was a character. He had the
French vivacity, the prejudice of race, the devotion to the Scotch Fur
Company and a considerable rhyming talent. Many years after Pierre
Falcon won the admiration of the buffalo hunter and was the friend of
all the dusky maidens who followed his song of love or war alike. He it
was who sang the song of his race and helped to keep up the love of fun
among the French people of the Red River. It was reminiscent of victory
and also a forecast of future influence and power. Various versions of
Pierre Falcon's song have come down to us celebrating the victory of
Seven Oaks. We give a simple translation of the bard's effusion:
PIERRE FALCON'S SONG.
Come listen to this song of truth!
A song of the brave Bois-brulés,
Who at Frog Plain took three captives,
Strangers come to rob our country.
When dismounting there to rest us,
A cry is raised--the English!
They are coming to attack us,
So we hasten forth to meet them.
I looked upon their army,
They are motionless and downcast;
So, as honor would incline us
We desire with them to parley.
But their leader, moved with anger,
Gives the word to fire upon us;
And imperiously repeats it,
Rushing on to this destruction.
Having seen us pass his stronghold,
He had thought to strike with terror
The Bois-brulés; ah! mistaken,
Many of his soldiers perish.
But a few escaped the slaughter,
Rushing from the field of battle;
Oh, to see the English fleeing!
Oh, the shouts of their pursuers!
Who has sung this song of triumph?
The good Pierre Falcon had composed it,
That the praise of these Bois-brulés
Might be evermore recorded.