CHAPTER X

1683-1685

THE ADVENTURERS FURIOUS AT RADISSON, FIND IT CHEAPER TO HAVE HIM AS

FRIEND THAN ENEMY AND INVITE HIM BACK—THE REAL REASON WHY RADISSON

RETURNED—THE TREACHERY OF STATECRAFT—YOUNG CHOUART OUTRAGED, NURSES HIS

WRATH AND THERE GAILY COMES ON THE SCENE MONSIEUR PÉRÉ—SCOUT AND SPY

The Hudson’s Bay Adventurers were dazed by the sudden eruption of

Radisson at Port Nelson. Their traders had gone there often enough to

have learned that the finest furs came from the farthest North. Here

was a region six hundred miles distant from the French bush-lopers, who

came overland from the St. Lawrence. Here were the best furs and the

most numerous tribes of Indian hunters. Radisson had found Port Nelson

for them. Now he had snatched the rich prize from their hands.

Bad news travels fast. Those refugees, who had been shipped by the

French to the Company’s posts at the south of the bay, reached the

ships’ rendezvous at Charlton Island in time to return to England by

the home-bound vessels of 1683. Before Radisson had arrived in France,

Outlaw and the other refugees had come to London. The embassies of

France and England rang with what was called “the Radisson outrage.”

John Outlaw, quondam captain for Ben Gillam, the poacher, took oath in

London, on November 23, of all that Radisson had done to injure the

English, and he swore that Groseillers had showed a commission from

the Government of France for the raid. Calvert, Braddon, Phineas and

those seamen, who had gone up Nelson River with Bridgar—gave similar

evidence, and when Bridgar, himself, came by way of New England, the

clamor rose to such heights it threatened to upset the friendly treaty

between England and France. Lord Preston, England’s envoy to Paris, was

besieged with memorials against Radisson for the French Government.

“I am confirmed in our worst fears by the news I have lately received,”

wrote Sir James Hayes of the Company, “Monsieur Radisson, who was at

the head of the action at Port Nelson is arrived in France the 8th of

this month (December, 1683) in a man-of-war from Canada and is in all

posthaste for Paris to induce the ministry to undermine us on Hudson’s

Bay. Nothing can mend at this time but to get His Majesty’s order

through my Lord Preston instantly to cause ye French King to have

exemplary justice done upon ye said Radisson.”

At the same time, Hayes was urging Preston to bribe Radisson; in fact,

to do anything to bring him back to the service of the Hudson’s Bay

Company.

* * * * *

Radisson and Groseillers had meanwhile reached Paris only to find that

the great statesman, Colbert—on whose protection they had relied—was

dead. Fur traders of Quebec had the ear of the court—those monopolists,

who had time and again robbed them of their furs under pretense of

collections for the revenue. Both Radisson and Groseillers separately

petitioned the court for justice. If De la Barre had been right in

restoring the pirate vessel to Ben Gillam, what right had he to seize

their furs? One fourth for revenue did not mean wholesale confiscation.

The French Court retorted that Radisson and Groseillers had gone North

without any official commission. “True,” answered Groseillers in his

petition, “no more official than a secret verbal commission such as

Albanel the Jesuit had, when he came to us years ago, and that is no

good reason why we should be condemned for extending French dominion

and changing Nelson’s name to Bourbon.” Radisson’s petition openly

stated that while they carried no “official commission,” they had gone

North by the express order of the King, and that the voyage, itself,

was sufficient proof of their zeal for France.

King Louis was in a quandary. He dare not offend the Hudson’s Bay

Company, for its chief shareholders were of the English court, and

with the English Court, Louis XIV had a secret treaty. To De la Barre

he sent a furious reprimand for having released Gillam’s pirate

vessel. “It is impossible to imagine what your conduct meant,” ran the

reproof, “or what you were about when you gave up the vessel captured

by Radisson and Groseillers, which will afford the English proof

of possession at Port Nelson. I am unwilling to afford the King of

England cause of complaint,” he explained, “but I think it important

to prevent the English establishing themselves on Nelson River.” In

brief, according to the shifty trickery of a royal code, Radisson

was to be reprimanded publicly but encouraged privately. Groseillers

dropped out of the contest disgusted. The French court sent for

Radisson. He was ordered to prepare to sail again to the bay on April

24, 1684, but this time, Radisson would have no underhand commission

which fickle statesmen might repudiate. He demanded restoration of

his confiscated furs and a written agreement that he should have

equal share in trading profits. The Department of the Marine haggled.

Preparations went on apace, but the Hudson’s Bay Company was not idle.

Sir James Hayes and Sir William Young and my Lord Preston—English envoy

to Paris—urged Radisson to come back to England on one hand, and on

the other threatened rupture of the treaty with France if “condign

punishment” were not visited on the same men.

It is here what historians have called “Radisson’s crowning

treachery” takes place. “Prince of liars, traitors, adventurers and

bushrangers”—says one writer. “He received the marked displeasure of M.

Colbert,” explains another, though Colbert was dead. “He was blamable

for deserting the flag of France: the first time we might pardon him,

for he was the victim of grave injustice, but no excuse could justify

his second desertion. He had none to offer. It was an ineffaceable

stain,” asserts yet another critic.

In a word, Radisson suddenly left France secretly and appeared in

England, the servant of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Why did he do it?

Especially, why did he do it without any business agreement with the

Company as to what his rewards were to be? Traitors sell themselves

for a _quid pro quo_, but there was no prospect of gain in Radisson’s

case. His own journals give no explanation. I confess I had always

thought it was but another example of the hair-brained enthusiast mad

to be back in his native element—the wilds—and shutting his eyes to all

precautions for the future. It was not till I had examined the state

papers that passed between the Hudson’s Bay Company and France that I

found the true explanation of Radisson’s erratic conduct. He was sent

for by the Department of the Marine, and told that the French had quit

all open pretentions to the bay. He was commanded to cross to England

at once and restore Port Nelson to the Hudson’s Bay Company.

“Openly?” he might have asked.

Ah, that was different! Not openly, for an open surrender of Port

Nelson would forever dispose of French claims to the bay. All Louis XIV

now wanted was to pacify the English court and maintain that secret

treaty. No, not openly; but he was commanded to go to England and

restore Port Nelson as if it were of his own free will. He had captured

it without a commission. Let him restore it in the same way. But

Radisson had had enough of being a scapegoat for state statecraft and

double dealing. He demanded written authority for what he was to do,

and the Department of Marine placed this commission in his hands:

“In order to put an end to the Differences wch. exist between the two

Nations of the French & English touching the Factory or Settlement made

by Messrs. Groseillers and Radisson on Hudson Bay, and to avoid the

efusion of blood that may happen between the sd. two nations, for the

Preservation of that place, the expedient wch. appeared most reasonable

and advantageous for the English company will, that the sd. Messrs.

De Groseillers and Radisson return to the sd. Factory or habitation

furnished with the passport of the English Company, importing that

they shall withdraw the French wch. are in garrison there with all

the effects belonging to them in the space of eighteen months to be

accounted from the day of their departure by reason they cannot goe and

come from the place in one year.... The said gentlemen shall restore to

the English Company the Factory or Habitation by them settled in the

sd. country to be thenceforward enjoyed by the English company without

molestation. As to the indemnity pretended by the English for effects

seized and brought to Quebec ... that may be accommodated in bringing

back the said inventory & restoring the same effects or their value to

the English Proprietors.”

This, then, was the reason for Radisson a second time deserting the

French flag. He was compelled by “the statecraft” of Louis XIV, and

this reason, as a man of honor, he could not reveal in his journals.

On the 10th of May, 1684, Radisson landed in London. He was welcomed

by Sir James Hayes and forthwith carried in honor to Windsor, where

he took the oath of fidelity as a British subject—a fealty from which

he never swerved to the end of his life. In a week, he was ready to

leave. Three ships sailed this year, _The Happy Return_, under Captain

Bond; _The Success_, under Outlaw, who had been with Ben Gillam, and a

little sloop called _The Adventure_ for inland waters, under Captain

Geyer. Radisson went on board _The Happy Return_. Groseillers had long

since left France for Quebec, where he settled at Three Rivers with

his family. Favorable winds carried the ships forward without storm or

stop, to the straits, which luckily presented open water. Inside the

bay, ice and heavy seas separated the vessels. Sixty miles from Port

Nelson _The Happy Return_ was caught and held. Fearing that the French

at Nelson, under young Chouart Groseillers, might attack the English if

the other ships arrived first, Radisson asked permission of Governor

Phipps, who had superseded Bridgar, to take seven of the crew and row

the sixty miles ashore. It was a daring venture. Ice floes were tossing

in a heavy sea, but by rowing might and main, portaging over the ice

where the way was blocked, and seeking shelter on the lee side of a

floe when the wind became too rough, Radisson and his men came safely

to Port Nelson in forty-eight hours, spending only one night in the

gig-boat on the sea. Radisson was amazed to find the French fort on

Hayes River deserted. Indians presently told him the reason. Barely had

he left the bay the year before when the annual frigate of the English

company came to port. Young Chouart Groseillers trusted to the loyalty

of the Indians as a defense against the English till he learned that

the savages had been offered a barrel of gunpowder to massacre the

French. Then Chouart hastily withdrew up Hayes River above the first

rapids to the camping place of the Assiniboines, whose four hundred

warriors were ample protection.

Young Groseillers’ anger at the turn of affairs knew no bounds. In his

fort were twelve thousand beaver skins and eight thousand other pelts

of the same value as beaver. To the expedition the year before, he

had contributed £500 of his own money, and the cargo of that voyage

had been confiscated at Quebec. Now, he had rich store of pelts to

compensate for the two years’ toil, and by the order of the French

Government—a secret back-stairs, treacherous order which could not

stand daylight and would brand him as a renegade—he was to turn these

furs over to the enemy. The young man was furious, and surrendered

his charge with an ill grace. Radisson had been commissioned to offer

the Frenchmen employment in the English Company at £100 a year for

Chouart, £50 for Durvall, Lamotte, Greymaire and the rest. They heard

his offer in sullen silence, for it meant they must forswear allegiance

to France. They preferred to remain free-lances and take chances of

crossing overland to Quebec two thousand miles through the wilderness.

Then came what was truly the crowning treachery. A square deal is

safest in the long run. The man of double dealing forgets that he often

compels men, who would otherwise deal squarely, to meet him on his own

ground—double dealing; to stoop to the trickery that his dishonesty has

taught.

Radisson had been assured that the Frenchmen left in Hudson Bay should

be free to do as they wished, or if they joined the English they should

be well treated; but when they evinced no haste to become English

subjects, Governor Phipps took his own counsel. By September, a new

fort had been built on Hayes River five miles from the mouth. The

Indians had come down stream with an enormous trade and Radisson had

made a treaty of peace between them and the English, which has lasted

to this day. Finally, the cargo of beaver was on board _The Happy

Return_. Sailors were chanting their sing-song as they ran round the

capstan bars heaving up anchor on September the 4th, when Governor

Phipps suddenly summoned a final council on board the decks of _The

Happy Return_. To this council came the unsuspecting Frenchmen from

the shore. Three—as it happened—had gone to the woods, but young

Groseillers and the rest clambered up the accommodation ladder for last

orders. No sooner were they on board, than sails were run out. _The

Happy Return_ spread her wings to the wind and was off for England

carrying the unwilling Frenchmen passengers.

In a trice, hands were on pistols and swords out, but Radisson besought

the outraged Frenchmen to restrain their anger. What was their

strength against an armed crew of ruffians only too glad of a scuffle

to put them all to the sword? It was a sullen, sad home-coming for

the adventurer. Uncle and nephew were scarcely on speaking terms, and

the trick of Governor Phipps must have opened Radisson’s eyes to the

treatment he might expect now that he was completely in the power of

the English. The boat reached Portsmouth on October 23. Not waiting

for coach, Radisson took horse and rode fast and furious to London.

He was at once taken before the Company. He was publicly thanked for

his services, presented with a set of silver and given a present of a

hundred guineas. He became the lion of the hour. Nor did he forget his

French confrères. The committee at once voted each of the Frenchmen

twenty shillings a week for pocket money and ordered their board paid.

Later, Mr. Radisson is authorized to offer them salaries ranging from

£100 a year to £50 if they will join the Company. But they are in no

haste to join the Company, and strangely, when they evince intentions

of going across to France—a thousand obstructions arise as out of

the ground. They are watched—even threatened; politely, of course,

but threatened with arrest. Some suave-tongued gentleman points out

an advantageous marriage that young Chouart might make with some

well-dowered English belle, like his Uncle Radisson, who had married

Mary Kirke. Monsieur Chouart shrugs his shoulders. He hasn’t a very

high opinion of the way Radisson has managed his marriage affairs.

But when they find that they can gain their liberty in no other way,

these young French knights of the wilderness, they accept service

in the English company to be sent to the bay forthwith, and take

out “papers of denizenation,” which can be broken with less damage

to conscience than an oath of fealty and the forswearing of France.

And all the while, they are burning with rage that bodes ill for

Governor Phipps’ trick on the deck of _The Happy Return_. Letters

came from France to Chouart, letters from one Duluth, who is pushing

north from Lake Superior; letters from one Comporté, who has offered

to go overland and “wipe the English from the bay”; messages from a

bush-loper, one Péré, who is useful to the king of France as a spy. To

Comporté, Chouart writes: “_I am not at liberty to do as I wish. All

the advantages offered do not for a moment cause me to waver. I shall

be happy to meet you by the route you travel. I will perish or be at

the place you desire me to go. It is saying enough. I will keep my

word._” To his mother at Three Rivers, the young Frenchman confesses:

“_Orders have been given to arrest me if I try to leave. I will cause

it to be known in France that I never wished to follow the English.

I will abandon this nation. I have been forced here by my Uncle’s

subterfuges. See M. Duluth in my behalf and M. Péré and all our good

friends._” “All our good friends,” are the bushrangers who are working

overland north from the St. Lawrence to intercept the trade of Hudson

Bay—especially “Mons. Péré.”

And the same French Government that has compelled Radisson to go

back to England, issues orders to the Governor of New France—M. de

Denonville, “to arrest Radisson wherever he may be found,” “to reward

young Groseillers if he will desert from Hudson’s Bay,” and “to pay

fifty pistolles” to any man who seizes Radisson. And the reason for

this duplicity of statecraft? Plain enough. The Stuart throne is

tottering in England. When it falls, there falls also the secret treaty

with France. His Most Christian Majesty does not wish to relinquish

claim to one foot of ground in the North, and well might he not—it was

an empire as large as half Europe.

* * * * *

Meantime, the Company was proceeding on the even tenor of its ways.

Dividends of 50 per cent. were paid in ’83, the same in ’84, despite

interception of furs by the French overlanders. In the suit for loss by

the owners of Ben Gillam’s ship, the Company had emerged triumphant—its

monopoly vindicated, and in 1684, Captain Walker of the south coast

coming out of the bay on _The Diligence_, captured another pirate

ship, _The Expectation_, whose owners again tested the Company’s claim

to exclusive trade on the bay, by a lawsuit; and again the Company

came out a victor—its monopoly justified by the courts. Three of the

ships—_Happy Return_, Captain Bond; _Owners’ Good Will_, Captain

Lucas, and _Success_, Captain Outlaw—were yearly chartered from Sir

Stephen Evance, a rich goldsmith, who had become a heavy shareholder

in the Company. Besides these, there were _The Perpetuana Merchant_,

Captain Hume, with Smithsend as mate; _The Diligence_, Captain Walker;

the sloop _Adventure_, Captain Geyer, and one frigate; in all a fleet

of seven vessels, each carrying from twelve to twenty men plying

to and from the bay. It was in 1686 that the sloop was sent north

of Nelson to Churchill River, named after the great General—to open

trade on the river where Munck’s Danes had suffered such frightful

disaster. About this time, too, poor London boys began to go out as

apprentices—scullions, valets, general knockabouts—among whom was one

Henry Kelsey engaged at £8 a year, and his keep for Port Nelson. When

James, Duke of York, became king, the position of governor of the

Company was vacated, and Sir James Hayes, who seems always to have

been the Company’s emissary in all court matters, is directed by the

governing committee “_to bespeak the Lord John Churchill to dynner at

ye Rummor Tavernne in Queen’s Street_” on business for the company’s

very great interests. What that business was became evident at the

General Court of the Adventurers called on April 2, 1685, when my Lord

Churchill is elected governor by unanimous ballot. Phipps remains at

Nelson as local governor, Sargeant at Albany, Nixon at Moose. Bridgar

has been transferred to Rupert River, not important now, because

the French are luring the Indians away, and Radisson is general

superintendent of all trade, spending the winters in London to arrange

the furs for sale and to choose the out-going cargoes, going each

summer to the bay to barter with the Indians.

_Notes on Chapter X._—With the exception of the two petitions filed

by Radisson and Groseillers in France, and of young Groseillers’

letters—all the contents of this chapter are drawn from the official

records of the Hudson’s Bay House. Young Groseillers, by the way, is

usually called Jean Baptiste, but as he signs himself Chouart I have

referred to him by that name.

The real reason why Radisson came back to England is so new to history

that I have given the instructions of the French Government in full.

Radisson refers to these instructions in his affidavit of 1697, a

document—which for State reasons—has never been given to the public

till now. The State reasons will become plainer as the record goes on.

Both governments were lying to sustain fictitious claims for damages.

Herewith in part, is Radisson’s affidavit, taken before Sir Robert

Jeffery, Aug. 23, 1697, left with the English commissioners of claims

against France the 5th of June, 1699:

“Peter Esprit Radisson of the Parish of St. James in the County of

Middlesex Esqr. aged sixty-one years or thereabouts maketh oath that

he came into England in the year 1665 And in the year 1672 married one

of the Daughters of Sir John Kirke. And in the year 1667 this deponent

with his Brother in law Medard Chouart De Groseilier were designed

for a voyage in the service of the English to Hudson Bay, which they

undertook, this deponent going on board the ship _Eagle_ then commanded

by one Captain Wm. Stanard was hindered being disabled at sea by bad

weather, soe could not compleate the sd. intended Voyage, But the sd.

Grosilier proceeded in another English ship called the _Nonsuch_ and

arrived in the Bottom of Hudson’s Bay on a certaine River then which

Capt. Zachary Gillam commander of the sd. ship ... then named Rupert

River in Honor of His Highness Prince Rupert who was chiefly interested

in that expedition.... And this deponent alsoe saith that in the year

1668 He went from England ... to another voyage to Port Nelson on an

English ship called the _Wavero_ but was also obstructed ... and at

his returne found the sd. Grossilier safely arrived ... and in the

year 1669 this deponent went on the sd. ship the _Wavero_ commanded by

Captain Newland & arrived at Port Nelson ... and in the year 1670 the

sd. Grosilier was sent in an English Barke to Port Nelson ... and in

the year 1673 there arising some difference between the Hudson’s Bay

Company of England & this deponent, this deponent went unto France ...

and in the year 1682 there were two Barkes fitted out at Canada ...

sailed to Hudson’s Bay and arrived on Hayes River ... and took Port

Nelson and an English vessel which came from New England commanded by

one Benj. Gillam ... and gave the name of Bourbon to the said Port

Nelson ... and in the year 1683 he came from Canada to Paris by order

of Monsr. Colbert, who soone after dyed. And this deponent being at

Paris was there informed that the Lord Preston, Ambassador of the

King of England had given in a Memoriall ... against this Deponent

And after this deponent had been several times with the Marquis de

Seignlay & Monsr. Calliere (one of the Plenipotentiaries at the Treaty

of Peace) this Deponent found that the French had quitted all pretences

to Hudson Bay, And thereupon in the year 1684 in the month of Aprill,

this deponent by the special direction of the sd. Monsr. Calliere did

write the papers hereunto annexed ... ” (there follow the instructions

to return to England as given in the text) ... “which the sd. Monsr.

Calliere dictated ... and the sd. Monsr. Calliere acted in the sd.

affaire by the directions of the Superintendent of Marine affairs in

France.... And the deponent was commanded by the sd. Monsr. Calliere

... to goe to Port Nelson to withdraw the French from thence, And to

restore the same to the English who—he sd.—should be satisfied for the

wrong & damages done them by this deponent ... and this deponent went

in one of the Hudson’s Bay Company ships to Port Nelson and withdrew

the French that were there from that Place, and the sd. Place was then

put into possession of the English ... and the French that withdrew

were brought unto England....

(Signed) Pierre Esprit Radisson London.”

August 1697.

Those who wish a more detailed account of Radisson will find it in

_Pathfinders of the West_. Chouart’s letter will be found in the

appendix of the same volume. _Documents Relatifs a la Nouvelle France_,

Tome I (1492-1712), contains the petitions filed by Radisson and

Groseillers in France.

It has been almost a stock criticism of the shallow nowadays to say

that an author has rejected original authorities, if the author refers

to printed records, or to charge that the author has ignored secondary

authorities, if the writer refers only to original documents. I may

say that I have not depended on secondary authorities in the case of

Radisson, because to refer to them would be to point out inaccuracies

in every second line—an ungrateful tack. But I have consulted and

possess in my own library every book that has ever been printed on the

early history of the Northwest. As for original documents, I spent six

months in London on records whose dust had not been disturbed since

they were written in the sixteen-hundreds. The herculean nature of this

laborious task can best be understood when it is realized that these

records are not open to the public and it is impossible to have an

assistant do the copying. The transcripts had to be done by myself, and

revised by an assistant at night.

The conquest of the great Northwest, Volume 1 (of 2) · 第 6 / 11 章