YEARS OF DISASTER
In spite of French raid and foray, the Governing Committee in London
pursued the even tenor of its way. Strict measures were enforced to stop
illicit and clandestine trading on the part of the Company's servants.
In a minute of November 2, 1687, the Committee 'taking notice that
several of the officers and servants have brought home in their coats
and other garments severall pieces of furrs to the great prejudice of
the Co'y, do order that such as have any garments lined with furrs shall
forthwith bring the same to the warehouse and there leave all the same
furrs, or in default shall forfeit and loose all salary and be liable to
such prosecution as the Co'y think fitt.'
Silent anger and resentment grew against Radisson; for was it not he who
had revealed the secrets of the great Bay to marauding Frenchmen?
Sargeant was sued in £20,000 damages for surrendering Albany; but on
second thought, the case was settled by arbitration, and the doughty old
trader was awarded £350. Jean Chouart and the other Frenchmen came back
to London in 1689, and Jean was awarded £202 for all arrears. Also,
about this time, the Company began trade with North Russia in whale
blubber, which, like the furs, was auctioned by light of candle.
William of Orange was welcomed to the throne, in 1688, with an address
from the adventurers that would have put Henry VIII's parliament to the
blush: 'that in all yr. undertakings Yr. Majesty may bee as victorious
as Caesar, as beloved as Titus, and have the glorious long reign and
peaceful end of His Majesty Augustus.' Three hundred guineas were
presented along with this address in 'a faire embroidered purse by the
Hon. the Deputy Gov'r. upon his humble knees.' For pushing claims of
damages against France, Sir Edward Dering, the deputy-governor, was
voted two hundred guineas. Stock forfeited for breaking oaths of secrecy
was voted to a fund for the wounded and widows of the service. The
Company's servants were put on the same pensions as soldiers in the
national service. Henceforth 'one pipe of brandy' was to go on each
vessel for use during war; but, in spite of 'pipes of brandy,' the
seamen were now very mutinous about going aboard, and demanded pay in
advance, which with 'faire words doth allay anger.' It was a difficult
matter now to charter ships. The Company had to buy vessels; and it
seems there was a scarcity of ready money, for one minute records that
'the tradesmen are very importunate for their bills.'
Many new shareholders had come into the Company, and 'Esquire Young' had
great ado to convince them that Radisson had any rightful claim on them
at all. Radisson, for his part, went to law; and the arrears of
dividends were ordered to be paid. But when the war waxed hotter there
were no dividends. Then Esquire Young's petitions set forth that 'M.
Radisson is living in a mean and poor condition.' When the Frenchman
came asking for consideration, he was not invited into the committee
room, but was left cooling his heels in the outer hall. But the years
rolled on, and when, during the negotiation of the Treaty of Ryswick in
1697, the Company pressed a claim of £200,000 damages against France,
'the Committee considering Mr Peter Radisson may be very useful at this
time, as to affairs between the French and this Co'y, the Sec. is
ordered to take coach and fetch him to the Committee'; 'on wh. the
Committee had discourse with him till dinner.' The discourse--given in
full in the minutes--was the setting forth, on affidavit, of that secret
royal order from the king of France in 1684 to restore the forts on the
Bay to England. Meanwhile amounts of £250 were voted widows of captains
killed in the war; and the deputy-governor went to Hamburg and Amsterdam
to borrow money; for the governor, Sir Stephen Evance, was wellnigh
bankrupt.
A treaty of neutrality, in 1686, had provided that the Bay should be
held in common by France and England, but the fur traders of New France
were not content to honour such an ambiguous arrangement. D'Iberville
came overland again to Rupert river in 1687, promptly seized the English
sloop there, and sent four men across to Charlton Island to spy on
Captain Bond, who was wintering on the ship _Churchill_. Bond clapped
the French spies under hatches; but in the spring one was permitted
above decks to help the English sailors launch the _Churchill_ from her
skids. The Frenchman waited till six of the English were up the masts.
Then, seizing an ax, he brained two sailors near by, opened the
hatches, called up his comrades, and, keeping the other Englishmen up
the mast poles at pistol point, steered the vessel across to d'Iberville
at Rupert.
The English on their side, like the French, were not disposed to remain
inert under the terms of the treaty. Captain Moon sailed down from
Nelson, with two strongly-manned ships, to attempt the recapture of
Albany. At the moment when he had loaded a cargo of furs from the
half-abandoned fort on one of his vessels, d'Iberville came paddling
across the open sea with a force of painted Indian warriors. The English
dashed for hiding inside the fort, and d'Iberville gaily mounted to the
decks of the fur-laden ship, raised sail, and steered off for Quebec.
Meeting the incoming fleet of English vessels, he threw them off guard
by hoisting an English flag, and sailed on in safety.
When France and England were again openly at war, Le Moyne d'Iberville
was occupied with raids on New England; and during his absence from the
Bay, Mike Grimmington, who had been promoted to a captaincy, came
sailing down from Nelson to find Albany in the possession of four
Frenchmen under Captain Le Meux. He sacked the fort, clapped Le Meux and
his men in the hold of his English vessel, carried them off to England,
and presented them before the Governing Committee. Captain Mike was
given a tankard valued at £36 for his services. At the same time Captain
Edgecombe brought home a cargo of 22,000 beavers from Nelson, and was
rewarded with £20 worth of silver plate and £100 in cash. Meanwhile our
friend Jean Péré, who had escaped to France, was writing letters to
Radisson, trying to tempt him to leave England, or perhaps to involve
him in a parley that would undermine his standing with the English.
Grimmington's successful foray encouraged the 'Adventurers of England'
to make a desperate effort to recapture all the forts on the Bay. James
Knight, who had started as an apprentice under Sargeant, was sent to
Albany as governor, and three trusted men, Walsh, Bailey, and Kelsey,
were sent to Nelson, whence came the largest cargoes of furs.
But d'Iberville was not the man to let his winnings slip. Once more he
turned his attention to Hudson Bay, and on September 24, 1694, the
French frigates _Poli_ and _Salamander_ were unloading cannon, under his
direction, beneath the ramparts of Nelson. For three weeks, without
ceasing day or night, bombs were singing over the eighteen-foot
palisades of the fort. From within Walsh, Kelsey, and Bailey made a
brave defence. They poured scalding water on the heads of the Frenchmen
and Indians who ventured too near the walls. From the sugar-loaf tower
roofs of the corner bastions their sharpshooters were able to pick off
the French assailants, while keeping in safety themselves. They killed
Chateauguay, d'Iberville's brother, as he tried to force his way into
the fort through a rear wall. But the wooden towers could not withstand
the bombs, and at length both sides were ready to parley for terms. With
the hope that they might save their furs, the English hung out a
tablecloth as a flag of truce, and the exhausted fighters seized the
opportunity to eat and sleep. The weather had turned bitterly cold. No
ship could come from England till spring. Under these conditions, Walsh
made the best bargain he could. It was agreed that the English officers
should be lodged in the fort and should share the provisions during the
winter. D'Iberville took possession; and again, only one post on the
Bay--Albany, in charge of James Knight--remained in English hands.
On the miseries of the English prisoners that winter there is no time to
dwell. D'Iberville had departed, leaving La Forest, one of his men, in
command. The terms of the surrender were ignored. Only four officers
were maintained in the fort and given provisions. The rest of the
English were driven to the woods. Those who hung round the fort were
treated as slaves. Out of the fifty-three only twenty-five survived. No
English ship came to Nelson in the following summer--1695. The ship that
anchored there that summer was a French privateer, and in her hold some
of the English survivors were stowed and carried to France for ransom.
In August 1696, however, two English warships--the _Bonaventure_ and the
_Seaforth_--commanded by Captain Allen, anchored before Nelson. La
Forest capitulated almost on demand; and, again, the English with Nelson
in their hands were virtually in possession of the Bay. Allen made
prisoners of the whole garrison and seized twenty thousand beaver pelts.
While the _Bonaventure_ and the _Seaforth_ lay in front of the fort, two
ships of France, in command of Serigny, one of d'Iberville's brothers,
with provisions for La Forest, sailed in, and on sight of the English
ships sailed out again to the open sea--so hurriedly, indeed, that one
of the craft struck an icefloe, split, and sank. As Allen's two English
vessels, on their return journey, passed into the straits during a fog,
a volley of shot poured across the deck and laid the captain dead on the
spot. The ship whence this volley came was not seen; there is no further
record of the incident, and we can only surmise that the shot came from
Serigny's remaining ship. What is certain is that Allen was killed and
that the English ships arrived in England with an immense cargo of furs,
which went to the Company's warehouse, and with French captives from
Nelson, who were lodged in prison at Portsmouth.
The French prisoners were finally set free and made their way to France,
where the story of their wrongs aroused great indignation. D'Iberville,
who was now in Newfoundland, carrying havoc from hamlet to hamlet, was
the man best fitted to revenge the outrage. Five French warships were
made ready--the _Pelican_, the _Palmier_, the _Profond_, the _Violent_,
and the _Wasp_. In April 1697 these were dispatched from France to
Placentia, Newfoundland, there to be taken in command by d'Iberville,
with orders to proceed to Hudson Bay and leave not a vestige remaining
of the English fur trade in the North.
Meanwhile preparations were being made in England to dispatch a mighty
fleet to drive the French for ever from the Bay. Three frigates were
bought and fitted out--the _Dering_, Captain Grimmington; the _Hudson's
Bay_, Captain Smithsend; and the _Hampshire_, Captain Fletcher--each
with guns and sixty fighting men in addition to the regular crew. These
ships were to meet the enemy sooner than was expected. In the last week
of August 1697 the English fleet lay at the west end of Hudson Strait,
befogged and surrounded by ice. Suddenly the fog lifted and revealed to
the astonished Englishmen d'Iberville's fleet of five French warships:
the _Palmier_ to the rear, back in the straits; the _Wasp_ and the
_Violent_, out in open water to the west; the _Pelican_, flying the flag
of the Admiral, to the fore and free from the ice; and the _Profond_,
ice-jammed and within easy shooting range. The Hudson's Bay ships at
once opened fire on the _Profond_, but this only loosened the ice and
let the French ship escape.
D'Iberville's aim was not to fight a naval battle but to secure the fort
at Nelson. Accordingly, spreading the _Pelican's_ sails to the wind, he
steered south-west, leaving the other ships to follow his example. Ice
must have obstructed him, for he did not anchor before Nelson till
September 3. The place was held by the English and he could find no sign
of his other ships. He waited two days, loading cannon, furbishing
muskets, drilling his men, of whom a great many were French wood-runners
sick with scurvy. On the morning of the 5th the lookout called down 'A
sail.' Never doubting but that the sail belonged to one of his own
ships, d'Iberville hoisted anchor and fired cannon in welcome. No
answering shot signalled back. There were sails of three ships now, and
d'Iberville saw three English men-of-war racing over the waves to meet
him, while shouts of wild welcome came thundering from the hostile fort
to his rear.
D'Iberville did not swerve in his course, nor waste ammunition by firing
shots at targets out of range. Forty of his soldiers lay in their berths
disabled by scurvy; but he quickly mustered one hundred and fifty
able-bodied men and ordered ropes to be stretched, for hand hold, across
the slippery decks. The gunners below stripped naked behind the great
cannon. Men were marshalled ready to board and rush the enemy when the
ships locked.
The _Hampshire_, under Captain Fletcher, with fifty-two guns and sixty
fighting men, first came up within range and sent two roaring cannonades
that mowed the masts and wheel-house from the _Pelican_ down to bare
decks. At the same time Grimmington's _Dering_ and Smithsend's _Hudson's
Bay_ circled to the other side of the French ship and poured forth a
pepper of musketry.
D'Iberville shouted orders to the gunners to fire straight into the
_Hampshire's_ hull; sharpshooters were to rake the decks of the two
off-standing English ships, and the Indians were to stand ready to
board. Two hours passed in sidling and shifting; then the death grapple
began. Ninety dead and wounded Frenchmen rolled on the _Pelican's_
blood-stained decks. The fallen sails were blazing. The mast poles were
splintered. Railings went smashing into the sea. The bridge crumbled.
The _Pelican's_ prow had been shop away. D'Iberville was still shouting
to his gunners to fire low, when suddenly the _Hampshire_ ceased firing
and tilted. D'Iberville had barely time to unlock the _Pelican_ from the
death grapple, when the English frigate lurched and, amid hiss and roar
of flame in a wild sea, sank like a stone, engulfing her panic-stricken
crew almost before the French could realize what had happened. Smithsend
at once surrendered the _Hudson's Bay_, and Mike Grimmington fled for
Nelson on the _Dering_.
A fierce hurricane now rose and the English garrison at Nelson had one
hope left--that the wild storm might wreck d'Iberville's ship and its
absent convoys. Smashing billows and ice completed the wreck of the
_Pelican_; nevertheless the French commander succeeded in landing his
men. When the storm cleared, his other ships came limping to his aid.
Nelson stood back four miles from the sea, but by September 11 the
French had their cannon placed under the walls. A messenger was sent to
demand surrender, and he was conveyed with bandaged eyes into the fort.
Grimmington,[3] Smithsend, Bailey, Kelsey--all were for holding out; but
d'Iberville's brother, Serigny, came in under flag of truce and bade
them think well what would happen if the hundred Indians were turned
loose on the fort. Finally the English surrendered and marched out with
the honours of war. Grimmington sailed for England with as many of the
refugees as his ship, the _Dering_, could convey. The rest, led by
Bailey and Smithsend, marched overland south to the fort at Albany.
[3] Grimmington, with the _Dering_, had reached the fort in safety.
Smithsend's captive ship, the _Hudson's Bay_, had been wrecked with the
_Pelican_, but he himself had escaped to the fort.
The loss of Nelson fell heavily on the Hudson's Bay Company. Their ships
were not paid for; dividends stopped; stock dropped in value. But still
they borrowed money to pay £20 each to the sailors. The Treaty of
Ryswick, which halted the war with France, provided that possession on
the Bay should remain as at the time of the treaty, and England held
only Albany.