1685-1686
WHEREIN THE REASONS FOR YOUNG CHOUART GROSEILLERS’ MYSTERIOUS MESSAGE
TO OUR GOOD FRIEND “PÉRÉ” ARE EXPLAINED—THE FOREST ROVERS OF NEW FRANCE
RAID THE BAY BY SEA AND LAND—TWO SHIPS SUNK—PÉRÉ, THE SPY, SEIZED AND
SENT TO ENGLAND
It is now necessary to follow the fleet of seven ships—four large
frigates, three sloops for inland waters—to the bay. Radisson goes
as general superintendent with Captain Bond and Captain Lucas to
Nelson—the port farthest north. In these ships, too, go young Chouart
Groseillers and his French companions, bound for four years to the
Hudson’s Bay Company, albeit they have received and sent mysterious
messages to and from “our good friend, Monsieur Jan Péré,” of Quebec,
swearing they will meet him at some secret rendezvous or “perish in
the attempt.” What Chouart Groseillers and his friends—sworn to serve
the English company—mean by secret oaths to meet French bush-rovers
from Quebec—remains to be seen. Young Mike Grimmington is second mate
on Captain Outlaw’s ship, _The Success_, destined for the fort south
of Nelson—Albany, where bluff old Governor Sargeant holds sway from
his bastioned stronghold on the island at the mouth of Albany River.
Bridgar—quondam governor at Nelson—now goes with the small sloops bound
for the bottom of the bay—Moose and Charlton Island and Rupert River.
* * * * *
No Robin Hoods of legendary lore ever lived in more complete security
than the Gentlemen Adventurers of Hudson Bay. Radisson—the one man to
be feared as a rival—had been compelled by the French Court to join
them. So had his followers. The forts on the bay seemed immune from
attack. To the south, a thousand miles of juniper swamp and impassable
cataracts separated the English fur traders from the fur traders of
New France. To the west, was impenetrable, unknown wilderness. To the
north, the realm of iron cold. The Adventurers of Hudson Bay slumbered
secure on the margin of their frozen sea. Rupert and Moose—the forts
of the south—yearly collected 5,000 beaver pelts each, not counting as
many again of other rare furs. Albany—where the bay turns north—gave a
yearly quota of 3,500, and Nelson sent out as much as $100,000 worth of
beaver in a single year. The Adventurers had found a gold mine rich as
Spanish Eldorado.
To be sure, the French fur traders, who had been led to the bay by
Radisson once, would now be able to find the way there for themselves,
but the French fur traders demanded four beavers in barter where
the English asked only two, and two French ships that had come up
under Lamartiniére commissioned “to seize Radisson,” could neither
find Radisson nor an Indian who would barter them a single pelt.
They dare not land at Nelson, for it was now English. Reefing sails,
Lamartiniére’s ships spent the summer of ’85 dodging the ice floes
and hiding round Digges’ Island at the inside end of the straits for
reasons that young Chouart Groseillers might have explained if he would.
It was July before the fleet of Hudson’s Bay boats reached the straits.
Ice jam and tide-rip had presently scattered the fleet. As usual, the
smaller vessels showed their heels to danger and slipping along the
lee edge of the floes, came to the open water of the bay first. _The
Happy Return_, under Captain Bond with Monsieur Radisson, Monsieur
Chouart and his comrades; _The Success_, under Captain Outlaw; _The
Merchant Perpetuana_, under Captain Hume, with mates Smithsend and Mike
Grimmington looking anxiously over decks at the tumult of ramming ice
that swept past—came worming their way laboriously through the ice
floes, small sails only out, grappling irons hooked to the floating
icepans, cables of iron strength hauling and pulling the frigates up to
the ice, with crews out to their armpits in ice slush ready to loose
and sheer from the danger of undertow when the tide ripple came.
On July 27, with the crews forespent and the ships badly battered, the
three emerged on the open water of Hudson Bay and steered to rest for
the night under shelter of the rocky shores off Digges’ Island. Like
ghosts from the gloom, shadows took form in the night mist—two ships
with foreign sails on this lonely sea, where all other ships were
forbidden. In a trice, the deathly silence of the sea is broken by the
roar of cannonading. It is Monsieur Radisson, on whose head there is
a price, who realizes the situation first and with a shout that they
are trapped by French raiders—by Lamartiniére—bids Captain Bond flee
for his life. Captain Bond needs no urgings. _The Happy Return’s_
sails are out like the wings of a frightened bird and she is off like
a terrified quarry pursued by a hawk. Nor does Captain Outlaw on _The
Success_ wait for argument. With all candles instantly put out, he,
too, steers for the hiding of darkness on open water. _The Perpetuana_
is left alone wedged between Lamartiniére’s two French ships. Hooked
gang planks seize her on both sides in a death grapple. Captain Hume,
Mates Smithsend and Mike Grimmington with half a dozen others are
surrounded, overpowered, disarmed, fettered and clapped under hatches
of the victorious ships. Before morning, _The Perpetuana_ had been
scuttled of her cargo. Fourteen of her crew have been bayoneted and
thrown overboard. A month later, cargo and vessel and captives are
received with acclaim at Quebec. Captain Hume is sent home to France in
December on a man-of-war to lie in a dungeon of Rochelle till he can
obtain ransom. So are Mr. Richard Alio and Andrew Stuckey—seamen. The
rest are to lie in the cells below Château St. Louis, Quebec, on fare
of bread and water for six months.
[Illustration: Montagu House, Hayes River, where _The Dobbs_ and _The
California_ wintered in 1747—photographed from Henry Ellis’s Voyages.]
Mike Grimmington is held and “tortured” to compel him to betray the
secrets of navigation at the different harbors of Hudson Bay, but Mate
Grimmington tells no tales; for he learns that rumors of raid are in
the air at Quebec. Though England and France are at peace, the fur
traders of Quebec are asking commission for one Chevalier de Troyes
with the brothers of the family Le Moyne, to raid the bay, fire the
forts, massacre the English. Smithsend by secret messenger sends a
letter with warnings of the designs to the Hudson’s Bay Company in
England, and Smithsend for his pains is sold with his comrades into
slavery in Martinique, whence he escapes before spring. Grimmington is
held prisoner for two years before a direct order from the French Court
sets him free. Other things, Grimmington hears in Quebec of the French
on the bay.
All unsuspecting of plots at Quebec and pirate attacks on the Company’s
ships, the governors of the different forts on the bay awaited the
coming of the ships. From July, it was customary to keep harbor lights
out on the sand-bars, and station sentinels day and night to watch for
the incoming fleet. Secret codes of signals had been left the year
before with the forts. If the incoming ships did not display these
signals, the sentinels were ordered to cut the harbor buoys, put out
the lights, and give the alarm. If the signals were correct, cannon
roared a welcome, flags were run up, and pilots went out in small boats
to guide the ships in through sand-bars and bowlder reefs.
At Albany, Governor Sargeant, whose wife and family were now with him
at the fort—had ordered a sort of lookout, or crow’s-nest, built of
scaffolding, on a hill above the fort. As far as known, not a single
Englishman had up to this time penetrated the wilds west of the bay.
One Robert Sanford had been ordered this very year to “go up into the
country,” but fear of French bush-rovers made him report that such a
course was very unsafe. It would be wiser and safer for the Company
to give handsome presents to the Indian chiefs. This would induce
them to bring their tribes down to the bay. So the sentinel at Albany
could hardly believe his senses one morning when from the eerie height
of his lookout he espied three men—three white men, steering a canoe
down the swift, tumultuous current of the rain-swollen river. They
were coming _not_ from the sea, but from the Upcountry. This was a
contingency the cutting of harbor buoys had not provided against. The
astounded sentinel ran to Sargeant with the alarm. Cannon were manned
and Governor Sargeant took his stand in the gate of the palisaded walls.
Beaching their canoe, the three white men marched jauntily up to the
governor. The shaggy eyes of the bluff old governor took in the fact
that the newcomers were French—Frenchmen dressed as bush-lopers, but
with the manners of gentlemen, introducing themselves with the debonair
gayety of their race, Monsieur Péré, Monsieur Coultier de Comporté
and a third, whose name is lost to the records. Old Governor Sargeant
scratched his burly beard. England and France were at peace, very
much at peace when France had sent Radisson back; and he must treat
the visitors with courtesy; but what were gentlemen doing dressed as
bush-rovers? Hunting—taking their pleasure where they found it—knights
of the wildwoods—says my good friend, Jan Péré, doffing his fur capote
with a bow. Governor Sargeant hails good friend Péré into the fort, to
a table loaded with game and good wine and the hospitality of white
men lonely for companionship as a sail at sea. The wine passes freely
and stories pass freely, stories of the hunt and the voyage and of
Monsieur Radisson and his friends, whom the Governor expects back this
year—soon, very soon, any day now the ships may come.
But at base, every Hudson’s Bay Company man is a trader. Governor
Sargeant evincing no zealous desire to extend his hospitality longer,
Monsieur Péré tactfully evinces no desire to stay. The gay adventurers
aver they are going to coast along the shore—that alkali shore between
the main coast of cedar swamps and the outer reef of bowlders—where
good sport among feathered game is to be expected. Once they are out
of sight from Albany, the three Frenchmen rest on their paddles and
confer. They had not counted on leaving _quite_ so soon. Still gay as
schoolboys on an escapade, that night as they sleep on shore under the
stars, they take good care to leave their canoe so that the high tide
carries it out to sea. What is to be done now—a thousand miles by
swamp from the nearest French fort? Presto—go back to the English fort,
of course; and back they trudge to Albany with their specious farce of
misadventure.
Meanwhile, Outlaw on _The Success_, had arrived at Albany with the
tale of Lamartiniére’s raid and the loss of _The Perpetuana_. Before
Monsieur Jan Péré can feign astonishment—he is dumfounded at the news,
is Monsieur Péré—Governor Sargeant has clapped irons on his wrists
and irons on his feet. The fair-tongued spy is cast manacled into the
bastion that served as prison at Albany, and his two comrades are
transported across to Charlton Island to earn their living hunting till
they have learned that no one may tamper with the fur trade of the
English adventurers. What welcome Chouart Groseillers and his French
comrades received—is not told in Hudson’s Bay annals. They go north to
Nelson for the next four years, then drop from the pay lists of the
Company, and reappear as fur traders of New France. It would hardly be
stretching historic fact to infer that these daring French youths took
to the tall timbers.
Over on Charlton Island, Péré’s comrades hunted as to the wildwoods
born; hunted so diligently that by September they had store enough of
food to stock them for the winter. By September the boats that met at
Charlton Island had sailed. No one was left to watch the Frenchmen.
They hastily constructed for themselves a large canoe, loaded it with
their provisions, set out under cover of night and reached the south
shore of James Bay, keeping well away from Moose and Rupert River.
Then they paddled for life upstream toward New France. By October, ice
formed, cutting the canoe. They killed a moose, cured the buckskin
above punk smoke, made themselves snowshoes and marched overland seven
hundred miles to the French fort at Michilimackinac. Word ran like
wildfire from Lake Superior to Quebec—Jan Péré was held in prison at
Albany. These were the rumors Mike Grimmington and Richard Smithsend
heard from their prison cells under Château St. Louis. If these two
spies can march overland in midwinter, cannot a band of bush-rovers
march overland to the rescue of Péré? France and England are at peace;
but Albany holds Péré in prison, and Quebec holds Mike Grimmington and
Smithsend in the cellar of the Château St. Louis.
* * * * *
Up on the bay, old Sargeant was puzzled what to do with Péré. All told,
there were only eighty-nine men on Hudson Bay at this time. It was
decided that Outlaw should remain for the winter with Sargeant, but
take Péré up to Captains Bond and Lucas at Nelson to be shipped home
to England, where the directors could decide on his fate. On October
27, Bond and Lucas arrived in London, and on October 29, the minutes
of the Company report “one Monsieur Jan Péré sent home by Governor
Sargeant as a French spy.” The full report of _The Perpetuana’s_ loss
was laid before the Company on the 30th. On November 4, Monsieur Péré
is examined by a committee. Within a week the suave spy suffers such a
change of heart, he applies on November 11 for the privilege of joining
the Company. Before the Company have given answer to that request,
comes a letter from Captain Hume dated December 13, Rochelle, France,
giving a full account of the wreck of _The Perpetuana_, the indignities
suffered at Quebec, stating that he is in a dungeon awaiting the
Company’s ransom. Captain Hume is ordered to pay what ransom is
necessary and come to England at once, but it is manifest that the
French spy, Jan Péré, must be held for the safety of the other English
prisoners at Quebec. The Company lodges a suit of £5,000 damages
against him, which will keep Péré in gaol till he can find bail, and
when he sends word to know the reason for such outrage, the minutes of
the Company glibly put on record “_that he hath damnified the company
very considerably_.” Unofficially, he is told that the safety of his
life depends on the safety of those English prisoners held at Quebec.
In January arrives Captain Hume, putting on record his affidavit of the
wreck of _The Perpetuana_. In February, 1686, comes that letter from
Smithsend which he smuggled out of his prison in Quebec, “_ye contents
to be kept private and secret_,” warning the Company that raiders are
leaving Canada overland for the bay. By March, Jan Péré is on his
knees to join the Company. The Company lets him stay on his knees in
prison. All is bustle at Hudson’s Bay House fitting out frigates for
the next summer. Eighteen extra men are to be sent to Albany, twelve to
Moose, six to Rupert. Monsieur Radisson is instructed to inspect the
large guns sent over from Holland to be sent out to the bay. Monsieur
Radisson advises the Company to fortify Nelson especially strongly, for
hence come the best furs.
The Company is determined to be ready for the raid, but the straits
will not be clear of ice before July.
_Notes on Chapter XI._—The contents of this chapter are taken from
the Minutes of the Company, Hudson’s Bay House. All French records
state that Hume was killed in the loss of _The Perpetuana_. As I have
his letter from Rochelle, dated December, 1685, this is a mistake. He
reached England, January, 1686, and his affidavit is in Hudson’s Bay
House. Captain Bond was severely censured by the Company for deserting
_The Perpetuana_. If he had not fled, the French would without a
doubt have dispatched Radisson on the spot. Some of the men of _The
Perpetuana_ spent two years imprisoned in Quebec. Up to this time, by
wreck and raid, including sloops as well as frigates—the Company had
lost thirteen vessels. Record of Péré is found also in French state
documents of this date. Smithsend escaped to England, February 14,
1686.