HOW CANADA'S ENEMY WAS FOILED
Slowly under the labour of the Loyalists and their children did the
forests of Canada give way to civilisation. Smiling fields, trim
homesteads, and flourishing gardens replaced the rude and solitary
wigwams of the red-men of Ontario, Quebec, and the maritime provinces
to the east. English, Scotch, and Irish emigrants found their way in
shiploads to Prince Edward Island, which you may remember as the Isle
St. Jean of the French. Lord Selkirk, the founder of the Red River
Settlement, of which we shall soon hear, brought whole colonies of
thrifty Scotch families; the name of the island was changed and that
of the father of the future Queen Victoria bestowed upon it. For
Prince Edward, Duke of Kent, was now commander of the British forces
in Quebec.
In the midst of the increasing prosperity of the New Empire which was
growing up for Britain in the west, an empire compounded of both
French and English, a war-cloud began to loom upon the Southern
horizon. The American Republic, after thirty-five years of
independence, quarrelled once more with the mother-country. Once
again {262} England was, in 1812, as she had been in the days of the
American Revolution, engaged in a terrible struggle with France. The
ambition of Napoleon Bonaparte had rendered him an appalling danger
to the whole of Europe. It was to quell Napoleon that Britain put
forth all her strength. On land she met with alternate victories and
defeats, but there was none to gainsay her on the sea. The embargo
on British goods pronounced by Napoleon in the Continental blockade
was America's great opportunity. A great ship industry, a splendid
carrying trade sprang up between America and France. England
insisted on a right of searching any vessels suspected of bringing
"aid and comfort" to the enemy or of harbouring English deserters.
Dozens of times was it shown that the cargoes the American vessels
carried were not American products, but had been bought at a French
colony and were on their way to France. Even many of the vessels
flying the American flag were foreigners or English blockade-runners.
This act of self-preservation was all the excuse the Americans wanted
to declare war and pounce once more upon Canada, in the sure hope
this time of success attending their plans. They declared that their
object in taking up arms was to uphold the honour of the Stars and
Stripes. "The flag," they said, "covers the cargo; you have no right
to search for seamen who have deserted or for contraband goods. If
you persist, we will fight you."
Wherefore, in June 1812, Congress declared war. It was not so stated
in the declaration, but its real object was to snatch Canada from
Britain, and, with {263} the help of Napoleon, extinguish King
George's maritime and colonial Empire. True, there were many
opponents of this war in America. The people of New England in
particular denounced it as wicked and senseless, and in Boston the
flags were hung at half-mast. Yet the temptation was too strong for
the masses led by Thomas Jefferson. "France," he said, "should be
the mistress of Europe, America should be mistress of the New World!"
It seemed natural to expect that 400,000 people could not stand out
against 8,000,000. The Stars and Stripes must be planted forthwith
at Quebec, York (Toronto), Montreal, and Kingston. "On to Canada"
was the cry of the war-party. So while Napoleon, at the head of a
vast army, was marching on to Moscow, and Wellington in Spain was
holding Napoleon's marshals at bay, the American army set out once
more to conquer Canada.
Innocent of having given any cause of offence to their neighbours,
the Canadian people, farmers, lawyers, doctors, school-teachers,
shouldered their arms to a man and steadfastly waited the foe.
Enough it was for them to know that the enemy had declared war
against Britain, and that their portion of the Empire was threatened
with invasion. A long frontier it was to guard, 1700 miles, and
there were only 5000 regular troops. But Canada had a host unto
herself in the gallant, dauntless person of General Isaac Brock,
commander in Upper Canada. Brock had scarce need to call for
volunteer battalions before they were already formed. More men
flocked to his banners than there were arms with which to {264} equip
them. The Indians, too, well content with British policy and fair
play, came tribe after tribe and offered their services. Chief
amongst them stands the noble figure of Tecumseh, leader of the
Shawanoes. His tribe had already fought the Americans, and been
defeated by them at the battle of Tippecanoe. After the battle the
red-men, like the Loyalists, had refused to live under the flag of
the Republic and had migrated northward to Canada. Three distinct
American armies began the attack. The leader of one of these,
General Hull, crossed the Detroit River and, landing in Canada,
issued a proclamation offering peace, liberty, and security to all
who would accept American rule. To those who refused, all the
horrors of war would descend upon their heads. Instantly another
proclamation was issued by General Brock. "Britain," it ran, "will
defend her subjects!" Canada, well knowing her duty to herself and
her sovereign, was not to be bribed nor bullied. A little band of
Canadian soldiers and voyageurs appeared before the American fort of
Michilimackinac, which commanded Lake Michigan, and compelled it to
surrender. Another small body of 350 Canadians, accompanied by
Tecumseh and his zealous Shawanoes, cut off Hull's supplies and
checked his progress. This prompt action greatly astonished the
bombastic American general. He set out at once upon a retreat to
Detroit, and there was quickly followed by Brock. The Canadian
leader commanded but little more than half the number of men his
adversary could boast, but nevertheless Brock was bent on storming
the enemy's fort. He was on the {265} point of giving the signal for
assault when, to his amazement, a white flag was raised aloft and
Hull offered to capitulate. The result was that 2500 troops and 33
cannon and the whole territory of Michigan was surrendered to Canada.
No wonder that Brock became a hero, and that the heart of every
Canadian who heard the tidings was fired with patriotic enthusiasm.
Meanwhile how fared it with the other American armies? General van
Rensselaer brought his clamorous, eager followers to Niagara, where
the mighty torrent of waters scarce could drown their huzzas of
expected victory when they sighted from afar Canadian soil. The
woods flamed with crimson and yellow, vineyards were thick with their
purple harvests when Van Rensselaer led his army to the attack on
Queenston heights. The Canadian shore of the Niagara River rose
sheer and splendid from the foaming rapids below. At a spot where
the river's course is somewhat checked the embarkation took place.
The sound of oars caught the ear of a sentinel, and a Canadian
battery opened fire. Too late! The Americans also had their
batteries planted, and they were far more numerous. Thirteen hundred
Americans, led by Captain Wool, moved slowly up the slope and gained
the summit.
The sound of the firing reached Fort George, where General Brock then
was. No time was to be lost; he flew to the fray. The Americans
must be dislodged at the point of the bayonet. "Scale the heights!"
rang out as the battle-cry. Waving his sword at the head of the
charging lines, Brock's voice {266} could be heard shouting, "Push
on, ye brave York volunteers!" The words had scarce left his lips
ere the brave Brock sank down shot through the breast.
Under the hot fire from the summit on Queenston heights the ranks of
his followers were fast mowed down--so fast, that at length the
Canadians were fain to halt awhile to gather breath. They had not
suffered without inflicting suffering on the foe. The American
general was disabled, many of his troops killed, and his position on
the crest far from secure. Although he still had several hundred
more men than the Canadians could bring against him, and 4000 more
American soldiers were at hand on the other side of the river, the
fate of the invaders was sealed. Brock's successor, Roger Sheaffe,
stormed them on three sides, while on the fourth side was a
precipice, 200 feet deep, its base washed by the angry river. They
fought madly, but nothing could stop the fury of the Canadian charge.
Back, back they fell until the very edge of the precipice was
reached. There was nothing now but death or surrender, and 1100
Americans laid down their arms and became prisoners of war.
When the first year's campaign came to an end Canadian soil had been
freed from the invader.
Next year, however, the enemy attacked with even greater vigour.
They had met with several successes against the English at sea, for
England could not always spare her best ships for the American
conflict, and America thus felt the late defeats of her generals more
than atoned for. York, afterwards Toronto, was captured, its public
buildings burned, the church {267} pillaged, and the public library
sacked. A number of private houses were also looted and destroyed.
But all this was not to go unavenged. Before the war was over a
British general in the very capital city of the enemy had exacted
terrible retribution. The capitol at Washington was burned and
several other public buildings destroyed by way of retaliation.
With this campaign is associated in Canadian annals the story of a
brave woman, Laura Secord. It shows the qualities which the
womanhood of Canada possessed at a time of storm and stress, when
their country was invaded by the foe. The American general-in-chief
despatched one of his officers, Colonel Boerstler, to capture by
surprise two of the Canadian outposts. Two valiant Canadians held
these posts, Fitzgibbon at De Ceu's farm and De Harren at Twelve Mile
Creek. On a clear June night the Americans set out from Fort George.
In advance of their main body a strong picket roamed the country to
capture all the male inhabitants they met, so that no tidings of the
American approach could reach the threatened garrison. But although
they captured many, there were some they were constrained to spare.
Of these was a wounded militiaman, named James Secord. He had lately
been fighting for his country and flag at Queenston heights when an
American bullet had brought him low. Deeming him helpless, the
pickets of the enemy spoke freely. Secord overheard them speaking of
the projected attack on De Ceu's farm, where Fitzgibbon's thirty
picked men slept ignorant of danger. A pang shot through the hapless
Secord's breast. How to warn {268} Fitzgibbon? How to apprise him
of the certain doom which awaited him? He spoke of the matter to his
true-hearted wife, Laura. She too came of sterling Loyalist stock.
The parents of both had suffered much at the hands of the American
revolutionists. They had lost all they possessed and had fled to
Canada for refuge from persecution. She saw instantly the danger,
and said quietly to her husband, "Fitzgibbon must be warned, and I
will warn him." Secord stared at his wife in amazement. Did she
realise the magnitude of such a task? The roads were swollen with
rain and almost impassable by reason of the mud. The woods were deep
in swamp. American and Indian marauders abounded. Twenty miles of
wilderness had to be traversed, not by a strong, lusty man in the
pride of youth, but by a frail woman, nearly forty years of age, and
the mother of five children. Yet Laura Secord did not shrink.
Seeing her resolution, her husband bade her God-speed, and she set
off dauntlessly at daybreak. After struggling along through
unfrequented paths for nineteen miles, subject to constant alarms,
she came to a branch of a river. For want of a bridge to cross it,
she reached the opposite bank by the aid of a fallen tree-trunk. At
nightfall she suddenly found herself in an Indian camp. The
moonlight shone on her figure, and the Indians, seeing her, burst
into fearful war-yells. Laura Secord was almost slain before she
could give an account of herself to the chief. The Indians were
friendly and conducted her to Fitzgibbon; to him she quickly imparted
her tidings. The Indians suggested that the Canadians {269} should
wait in ambush for the American column. Fitzgibbon was a brave,
intelligent officer and made his plans swiftly. Sending word to his
fellow-officer, De Harren, he distributed his dusky allies through
the woods and waited.
[Illustration: Laura Secord intercepted by the Mohawk scouts]
At daybreak Boerstler's advance-guard was received with a murderous,
unseen fire, accompanied by terrific yells. Then came the column of
the enemy, which was similarly greeted. Boerstler's men began to
drop in their tracks. Judging by the noise and vigour of the
invisible enemy, Boerstler fancied he was being attacked by an
overpowering force. He sent back for reinforcements to Fort George,
and ordered his men to press on with what speed and courage they
could. At this juncture Fitzgibbon, with admirable presence of mind,
took advantage of the situation. Emerging suddenly from the thicket
with his little handful of men, he greeted Boerstler with a flag of
truce. It was a white handkerchief which he had tied hastily to his
sword. At the sight of the redcoats and their commander the fire
stopped, "I wish to avoid bloodshed," said Fitzgibbon to the enemy.
"In the name of the King, I call upon you to surrender!"
By this time Boerstler was greatly alarmed, but he summoned up enough
courage to mutter that he was not accustomed to surrender to a force
which he had not seen. But Fitzgibbon was obdurate. He knew that
Major de Harren with 200 men would soon join him, and he again
pressed for instant surrender. At the time he made this lofty demand
he had scarce forty men at his back! "I will give you {270} five
minutes," he said to Boerstler; "I have no longer power to control my
Indians." Boerstler believed he had fallen into a trap. He had
received two wounds in the skirmish. His mind was greatly agitated,
and he put his hand to the articles of surrender. While he was
penning his name De Harren arrived with his 200 bayonets.
By this surrender 25 officers, 519 non-commissioned officers and men,
2 field-guns, 2 ammunition cars, and a large number of horses were
captured by the British.
As for Laura Secord, she soon recovered the fatigues of her thrilling
adventure, and lived to be an old lady of ninety-three, greatly
honoured by Canadians for her heroism and fidelity to her country's
cause.
But the glory and honour of the campaign was offset by a disgraceful
British reverse.
At Detroit the general, Proctor, was cut off from his supplies, and,
recognising his position, resolved to evacuate and fall back on
Burlington Heights. In order that the fort at Detroit might be of
little use to the enemy, he dismantled it as much as he could,
carried the guns away with him, and beat a retreat up the valley.
With his garrison of 900 Canadians went the valiant Tecumseh and 500
Indian braves. In the footsteps of this retreating force followed
3000 of the enemy. At Moravian Town, on the banks of the river
Thames, Proctor halted. It was a capital spot for a defence. On his
right was a thick cedar swamp which was quickly occupied by Tecumseh
and his 500 warriors. Between the swamp and river only about 300
yards intervened. But {271} Proctor had made a terrible blunder. He
had not dreamed the enemy were so nearly upon him. His scouts and
skirmishers told him nothing. He felled no trees, he threw up no
ramparts. In this fancied security, never thinking they would dare
to attack him until he had time to make preparations, the hardy
riflemen of Kentucky were swiftly upon him. They were led by the
American general, Harrison, who afterwards became President of the
United States. When they appeared Proctor and his men trembled.
There was a momentary indecision. Perhaps the troops felt that if
they had had a brave, wise commander to lead them they might still
give battle to the enemy. A moment later their indecision yielded,
their ranks broke, and the Canadians fled. Not so, however, Tecumseh
and his red-men. Deserted by their white allies, they still held the
Cedar Swamp for the British flag. But they were six times
outnumbered; fight as they might, their defeat was a foregone
conclusion. Amongst those who fell was the stalwart hero, Tecumseh,
whose loss was mourned not more by the Indians than by the white men
of Canada. Not even his heroism could save his dead body from the
disgrace of mutilation by the foe. But in so doing the disgrace of
the latter was greater than that they inflicted. In all his battles,
as in all his life, Tecumseh had ever been humane, just, and
moderate. As for the incompetent general, Proctor, he was
court-martialled for his conduct and dismissed by the King from his
service.
In the autumn of this year (1813) Lower Canada was threatened by a
force of 7000 Americans, {272} commanded by General Hampton. This
army advanced from Lake Champlain to the Chateauguay River, designing
to reach the head of Montreal Island. At this spot they expected to
be joined by 8000 men under General Wilkinson, coming down the St.
Lawrence in boats from Lake Ontario. To oppose the troops led by
Hampton and prevent them from joining their comrades near Montreal,
was a little force of 1600 men, commanded by one of the old French
Canadian noblesse, Colonel de Salaberry, who had already fought for
Britain in foreign climes. He was an experienced soldier; he knew
that courage and endurance in the cause of patriotism more than
atoned for want of numbers. He determined to throw himself in
Hampton's path in the forest, and so prevent his reaching
Chateauguay. Accordingly he threw up his trenches and waited for the
oncoming of the Americans.
In due time they came; the battle began, and the first ranks of the
foe were mowed down like grass. De Salaberry had taken the
precaution to scatter a dozen buglers through the woods, who sounded
the advance at intervals through the fray. The invaders, hearing the
repeated trumpet blasts, thought a vast Canadian army opposed them.
Nevertheless they pressed forward, the defenders purposely giving way
a little. The hidden buglers blew harder than ever, panic seized the
enemy at last, and they fled back into the bushes, dropping their
knapsacks, drums, and muskets as they ran. Their comrades behind
took them for victorious Canadians advancing to a charge, and fired
upon them. Discovering their mistake too {273} late, they in turn
fled, and soon the victory of 380 Canadians over ten times that
number of the enemy was complete. Miraculous to relate, the Canadian
loss was only two killed and sixteen wounded; that of the Americans
will never be known. But on the day following the battle nearly 100
graves were dug on their bank of the river.
Chateauguay was a blow to American pride which required many battles
and more than one victory on the sea and the Great Lakes to atone for.
Meanwhile what of Wilkinson and his army which was to join Hampton at
Montreal? Of the defeat and retreat of Hampton they knew nothing.
They supposed him to be advancing triumphantly from the south to join
them. Wilkinson and his Americans could not understand why the
Canadians took such trouble to oppose him. For did he not tell them
he was come to release them from their fetters? that they would no
longer be slaves under the monarchy of King George, but henceforward
as free as the air under a splendid republic? He could not
understand it. He complained bitterly of the "active, universal
hostility" of the male inhabitants of the country; he had come, he
said plainly, to "subdue the forces of His Britannic Majesty, not to
war against his unoffending subjects."
The answer to this kind of talk was supplied by the Canadians at the
battle of Chrysler's Farm. It happened in this wise. While the
American general descended the St. Lawrence by water, some 3000 of
his troops marched abreast by land on the way to Montreal. In their
rear a force of 800 {274} Canadians from Kingston followed them day
and night, attacking whenever they had the chance. At last the
invaders received their General's command to set upon these Canadian
skirmishers and "brush away the annoyance."
On a November afternoon a little force under Colonel Morrison drew up
at a spot called Chrysler's Farm to receive the foe, three or four
times outnumbering them. They fought fiercely, and when the struggle
was over the Americans had received signal defeat; their general had
fallen mortally wounded, they had lost several hundred men, and the
British took more than a hundred prisoners. Thus, completely routed,
Wilkinson's sole hope lay in joining Hampton at Lachine. But, alas,
the news of the defeat at Chateauguay caused him to change his plans;
the attack on Montreal was given up, and the army of the invaders
retired for the winter.
One of the most hotly-fought contests of this war occurred in the
following year at Lundy's Lane. Here 3000 British faced 4600
Americans, and this again was a British victory of which Canada has
reason to be proud. In the following year the war was over, and an
American statesman, Quincey, could say in Congress: "Since the
invasion of the Buccaneers, there is nothing in history more
disgraceful than this war."
As far as Canada was concerned the enemy had gained nothing. They
had been repeatedly defeated by people fighting against many odds,
whose territory they had wantonly invaded. To retaliate for their
destruction of York, the capital of Upper Canada, {275} the American
capitol and other public buildings at Washington had been burned,
3000 of their ships had been captured by Britain, and two-thirds of
their merchants were bankrupt at the close of the war. But Canada,
baptized by fire, came out of the ordeal with a new spirit, a new
self-reliance and pride in her achievements and destiny.
While the forces of America and Canada were eyeing each other angrily
across the border, in the far west a new colony which would some day
form a great and vigorous portion of the Dominion was born. You may
remember that all these lands between the Red River in the north and
Hudson's Bay were claimed by the Hudson's Bay Company. But it seemed
to many an unfair thing that this large and fertile district should
be given up as haunts for the fox and the beaver, the moose and the
buffalo.
Accordingly a benevolent Scottish nobleman, the Earl of Selkirk,
struck by the poverty of his peasant countrymen, obtained a grant of
land from the Company and resolved to begin a settlement on a large
scale at Red River. Now, at this time the Hudson's Bay Company, as a
fur-trading enterprise, had a rival in Canada. This rival was known
as the North-West Company of Montreal. The "Nor'-Westers," as they
were called, objected to having the solitudes of the north-west
invaded by farmers and shepherds, and no pains and misrepresentations
were spared to prejudice the public against Lord Selkirk's scheme.
They went up and down telling everybody that the country was cold and
barren, half waste, half forest, unfit to be the abode of white men.
"If you {276} plant a colony out there," they told Lord Selkirk,
"your colonists will either freeze to death or be massacred by the
savages." Nevertheless Selkirk sent out his emigrants in ships
across Hudson's Bay, and they made their way from thence slowly
southward to Red River.
There was, besides the Hudson's Bay traders and their rivals the
Nor'-Westers, another class which bitterly resented this invasion
into their hunting haunts. These were the half-breed bushrangers,
who were commonly called the Métis or Bois-Brulés. These men, rough
and untractable, were chiefly the descendants of the French
fur-hunters and trappers who had married Indian women and settled
down on the shore of some distant lake or stream. In the midst of
these French half-breeds there grew up also a number of Englishmen
and Scotchmen hardly less fond of the wild life of the wilderness
than themselves. These also took Indian wives, and when they or
their children were asked whether they were English, Scotch, or
Indian, they declared they were not one or the other: "We belong to
the New Nation."
It was only natural that amongst this rude race there should arise a
leader, a half-breed to whose superior ability and natural advantages
was added an education in Montreal, the seat of the co-partnery.
Cuthbert Grant, which was the name this individual bore, was known
far and wide amongst the hunters and trappers of Rupert's Land, and
everywhere commanded homage and respect. He had risen to be one of
the most enterprising and {277} valued agents of the Nor'-Westers,
and was constantly admitted to their councils.
At the beginning of spring the "first brigade" of immigrants resumed
its journey to the Red River Valley, arriving at what is now known as
Point Douglas late in August 1812. Hardly had they reached this spot
than they were immediately thrown into the greatest fright and
disorder. A band of armed men, painted, disfigured, and apparelled
like savages, confronted the little trembling band of colonists and
bade them halt. They were told briefly that they were unwelcome
visitors in that region, and must depart. The colonists might have
been urged to make a stand, but to the terrors of hostile Indian and
half-breed was added that of prospective starvation, for none would
sell them provisions thereabouts. The painted warriors, who were
North-West Company Métis in disguise, urged them to proceed to
Pembina, across the American border, where they would be unharmed,
and offered to conduct them thither. They acquiesced, and the
pilgrimage was resumed for seventy miles farther on. At Pembina they
passed the winter in tents, according to the Indian fashion,
subsisting on the products of the chase, in common with the natives.
Spring came, and it was decided to venture again to plant the colony
on the banks of the Red River. Means were found to mollify their
opponents, and log-houses were built and patches of prairie sown with
corn. A small quantity of seed wheat, obtained at Fort Alexander,
yielded them handsome returns at harvest time, and the lot of the
settlers seemed {278} brighter. Nevertheless they decided to repair
to Pembina for the winter, and, carefully saving their corn, live by
hunting until the spring.
While affairs were thus proceeding with the colonists, Lord Selkirk,
in 1813, paid a visit to Ireland, where he secured a large number of
people as servants for the fur trade and the colony, in addition to
those engaged in the Highlands.
His colonists spent a winter rendered miserable by the unfriendliness
of the Indians and half-breeds. But the Nor'-Westers were not yet
satisfied. They met at their great post of Fort William in the
spring, and set about planning for the complete destruction of the
colony. It excited the greatest indignation and bitterness. They
now determined to seduce and inveigle away as many of the colonists
as could be induced to join the North-West standard, and after they
should have thus diminished their means of defence, to exhort the
Indians of Lac Rouge, Fond du Lac, and other places to rise and
destroy the settlement. It was likewise their avowed intention to
seize the Governor of Red River and carry him to Montreal as a
prisoner, and so degrade the authority under which the colony was
established in the eyes of the natives of that country.
Gradually a number of the settlers were seduced and instigated to
disloyalty against their benefactors and the Company. A large band
of the Bois-Brulés were, for two years, maintained and paraded in
arms. Now that the preparatory measures had reached this stage the
time seemed ripe for more decisive measures.
{279}
The ruling spirit amongst the half-breed hordes, Cuthbert Grant,
appeared on the scene, and with him some of his choice dare-devil
crew. The return of the settlers to Red River had filled the minds
of the Bois-Brulés with rage. The contempt of the wild hunters of
the plains for the peaceful tillers of the soil was great. They
scorned them for their manual labour; they reproachfully termed them
"the workers in gardens," and the phrase "pork-eaters," formerly
applied to the voyageurs east of Fort William, was now used
derisively towards the Scotch settlers. All was now ready for a
final blow to the infant colony.
In June 1815, after the colony at Red River had been deprived of the
means of defence and was in great measure surrounded by its enemies,
a large force of Nor'-Westers, consisting of half-breeds, servants,
and clerks, sallied forth to make a combined attack on the
settlement. A sharp fire of musketry was kept up for some time on
the Governor's house and adjacent buildings. After a series of
attacks and skirmishes, Governor M'Donnell was obliged to surrender
himself as a prisoner, and under a warrant from a partner in the
North-West Company, sent to Montreal, charged with an undue arrogance
of authority, to the detriment of the fur trade.
Great joy filled the breasts of the North-Westers assembled at Fort
William when these brave tidings were conveyed to their ear. The
news was accompanied by convincing proofs of the great victory gained
over the enemy in the persons of 134 settlers, including men, women,
and children!
{280}
Deep were the potations, turbulent was the revelry when the flushed
Nor'-Westers returned from Red River and took their places at the
board. They had gained a victory over the miserable colonists
despatched by Lord Selkirk to begin the peopling of the West. The
war between Britain and America was ended, and so further relieved
their dread of punishment. But decisive as their triumph seemed, it
was short-lived. Even as they rejoiced and made merry, the despised
settlers had returned, and affairs at Red River were shaping for a
tragedy. A new brigade of immigrants from Scotland also arrived at
Red River only to gaze upon the embers of the burnt settlement. With
them came a new Governor for the colony, Robert Semple by name.
Governor Semple had been appointed to the chief control of all the
Hudson's Bay Company's factories at Rupert's Land.
Lord Selkirk himself arrived in Canada and began engaging a number of
disbanded troops to help him quell the outrages of the Nor'-Westers
and inflict vengeance upon them for their murders and misdeeds. The
Nor'-Westers had not thought of this.
The war with America being over, the hired European regiments of De
Meuron, Watteville, and the Glengarry Fencibles in Canada were out of
employment. The privates, as well as their officers, were entitled
on their discharge to grants of lands in Canada, and in the event of
their accepting them, the members of the two first-mentioned
regiments were not to be sent back to Europe. Selkirk perceived in
them an instrument ready to his hand, and, {281} mustering them
together, he travelled towards the stronghold of the Nor'-Westers,
Fort William.
Meanwhile Cuthbert Grant and his Bois-Brulés began final hostilities
against the Red River settlement. One large post of the Hudson's Bay
Company was seized and pillaged, not only of all the English goods,
furs, and provisions, but also of the private property of the
servants. The Bois-Brulés then set out to wipe the colony of Red
River from the face of the earth.
On a bright June day Governor Semple, on the way from York factory,
learnt that he was to be attacked in two days by the Bois-Brulés, who
were determined to take the fort. If any resistance were made,
neither men, women, nor children should be spared. Two days later,
while he was still gathering the friendly Indians about him, a man in
the watch-house called out that the half-breeds were coming. Semple
and his officers surveyed the neighbouring plains through their
telescopes, and made out the approach of some men on horseback.
Semple, ever a man of peace, said, "We must go out and meet these
people; let twenty men follow me." So they proceeded by the
frequented path leading to the settlement. As they went along they
met many of the colonists, who were running towards them, crying:
"The half-breeds! The half-breeds!" An advance was made of about
one mile, when some persons on horseback were discerned close at
hand, and the Governor, somewhat uneasy at the signs of their
numbers, had just decided to send for a cannon, when a fearful
clamour pierced the air, and he saw {282} it was too late. The
half-breeds galloped forward, their faces painted in the most hideous
manner. All were dressed in the Indian fashion, and surrounded the
Hudson's Bay people in the form of a half-moon. As they advanced,
the latter party retreated, and a North-West hunter named Boucher
rode up close to Governor Semple and asked what he wanted there?
Semple replied by demanding of Boucher what he and his party wanted?
Boucher said, "We want our fort," and the Governor's answer was,
"Well, go to your fort." "You rascal," shrieked Boucher, "you have
destroyed our fort." Semple, a man of extremely mild manners and
cultivated mind, flushed with indignation at such an address.
Incautiously he laid hand upon the bridle of Boucher's horse. A few
high words passed. Two shots rang out in quick succession, by the
first of which an aide fell, and by the second Semple was wounded.
In a few minutes the field was covered with bleeding forms; almost
all Semple's men were either killed or wounded. Save in a single
instance, no quarter was given; the injured were summarily
despatched, and on the bodies of the dead were practised all the
revolting horrors which characterise the inhuman heart of the savage.
To Lord Selkirk, on his way westward with a party of about eighty
soldiers, the first intelligence of the massacre and destruction of
the colony was received when Sault Ste. Marie was reached. They told
him that the settlers and a large part of the property of Red River
had been transported to Fort William.
Filled with indignation, and determined to demand {283} an
explanation of this further bloody deed, the Earl pressed on with all
haste to the rendezvous of the North-West Company. There, all
unconscious of his approach, no plan had been made either to defend
themselves or to arrest Selkirk's progress.
Let us peep in at Fort William. On the night preceding the Earl's
arrival the Nor'-West partners and their servants are seated at a
rude banquet, at which rum and brandy flow like water. Haunches of
beef and venison repose on the board, flanked by many kinds of forest
game. Laughter and toasting deafen the ear.
But if the scene within was noisy and animated, that without beggars
description. Hundreds of voyageurs, soldiers, Indians, and
half-breeds were encamped together in the open, holding high revel.
They hailed from all over the globe, England, Ireland, Scotland,
France, Germany, Italy, Denmark, Sweden, Holland, Switzerland,
America, the African Gold Coast, the Sandwich Islands, Bengal,
Canada, with Creoles, various tribes of Indians, and a mixed progeny
of Bois-Brulés or half-breeds. "Here," wrote one trader, "were
congregated on the shores of the inland sea, within the walls of Fort
William, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Methodists, Sun worshippers,
men from all parts of the world whose creeds were 'wide as poles
asunder,' united in one common object, and bowing down before the
same idol." Women, soldiers, voyageurs, and Indians, in ever-moving
medley, danced, sang, drank, and gambolled about the fort this night.
But Nemesis was at hand. The Earl approached {284} the fur-trading
stronghold swiftly and silently. He was on them before they realised
it. An attempt was made to shut the gate and prevent the troops from
entering. The fort people had succeeded in shutting one half of the
gate, and had almost closed the other by force, when thirty soldiers
forthwith rushed to the spot and forced their way into the stronghold
of the Northmen.
The notes of a bugle rang out across the river. A fresh force of
about thirty other veterans of European battlefields hurried quickly
over the stream to join their comrades. Awed by the apparition of so
many arms and uniforms, the North-Westers abandoned further
resistance, and bloodshed was happily averted. Those who had refused
obedience to the Earl's commands were seized and taken forcibly to
the boats, the others submitting peaceably to arrest.
[Illustration: Meeting of the Nor'-Westers at Fort William, 1816]
Fort William and the Nor'-Westers, together with about two hundred
French Canadians and half-breeds, and sixty or seventy Iroquois
Indians in and about the fort, had been captured by Lord Selkirk. He
had become possessed, to use his own words, "of a fort which had
served, the last of any in the British dominions, as an asylum for
banditti and murderers, and the receptacle for their plunder; a fort
which nothing less than the express and special licence of his
Majesty could authorise subjects to hold; a fort which had served as
the capital and seat of government to the traitorously assumed
sovereignty of the North-West; a fort whose possession could have
enabled the North-West {285} Company to have kept back all evidence
of their crimes."
The heads of the evil-doing were summoned to stand their trial in the
east. But the Nor'-Westers were bitter against the Earl who had
dared to plant a colony in the midst of their hunting grounds.
"That canting rascal and hypocritical villain, Lord Selkirk, has got
possession of our post at Fort William," wrote one of the aggrieved
partners. "Well, we will have him out of that fort," he pursued
amiably, "as the Hudson's Bay knaves shall be cleared, bag and
baggage, out of the North-West."
But although no man was destined to see this part of their prophecy
fulfilled, yet Lord Selkirk, a few weeks later, evacuated Fort
William. No sooner had the Earl and his forces left this great post
than the sheriff of Upper Canada arrived, took possession of the fort
and the Nor'-Westers, and restored it to its original owners.
Afterwards Imperial commissioners appointed in the name of the Prince
Regent to restore law and order to the region went on to Red River,
whither Lord Selkirk had repaired. Law and order were, however, not
so easily restored. The rivalry between the fur-traders was too
strong, the memory of bloodshed too recent for perfect peace to be
established in a few weeks or months.
In the meantime Lord Selkirk left the matter of retribution upon the
murderers of Governor Semple to the law and returned to England.
Punishment was duly meted out to the wrongdoers. The Red River
colony struggled manfully against adversity for several winters, and
it was not until 1822 that it at {286} last surmounted the evils
which threatened to starve it out of existence. But the heart of its
founder was not to be gladdened by the tidings of its growing
prosperity. The Earl had reached England disheartened; his health
was shattered by the long and anxious struggle to found a colony at
Red River, and in April 1820 he breathed his last. Selkirk may be
truly called the founder and father of the prosperous North-West of
to-day.
Soon after his death the Hudson's Bay and North-West Companies, for
so long such fierce competitors in the fur trade, joined hands in
friendly partnership.
Gone now for ever were the old free days of the hunters and trappers,
the bushrangers and voyageurs. The whole fur trade was placed on a
strictly commercial basis. The Nor'-Westers, rough, enterprising
adventurers, found themselves part of a huge machine operated by a
governor and committee in far-away England. Smaller and more remote
grew the regions where they could roam free and undisturbed.
Rupert's Land extended from the American border to the Pole, and from
the Great Lakes to the Pacific, and the officers of the Hudson's Bay
Company ruled it and most of those who dwelt there with a rod of iron
for the next fifty years.
Trouble, however, was still in store for Red River. Blood was yet to
flow before the Bois-Brulé could adapt himself to the new order of
things.
{287}