Beckles Willson

Imprisoned French Fur-Traders Reach Paris—A Fleet under Iberville Despatched by Lewis to the Bay—Company's four Ships precede them through the Straits—Beginning of a Fierce Battle—The Hampshire Sinks—Escape of the Dering and capture of the Hudson's Bay—Dreadful Storm in the Bay—Losses of the Victors—Landing of Iberville—Operations against Fort Nelson—Bailey Yields—Evacuation by the English.

The French prisoners captured in the Company's expedition of 1696 suffered an incarceration of nearly four months at Portsmouth. No sooner had their liberty been regained than they boarded a French brig bound for Havre, and on arrival in Paris lost little time in making known the condition of affairs at Hudson's Bay. Lewis and his Ministers, gazing upon this emaciated band of traders and bushrangers, could hardly refrain from taking immediate action to retrieve the situation. Precisely following the tactics of their enemy in the previous year, they engaged four men-of-war; which fleet was despatched to join Iberville, then at the port of Placentia in Newfoundland. The Court was well aware that there was no one man so thoroughly equipped at all points in knowledge of the Bay, and the conditions there of life and warfare, as this hero. Consequently, although numerous enough, all other offers to lead the expedition were rejected.

On the arrival of the French ships at Placentia, Iberville took command, embarking in the Pelican, of fifty guns. The others were the Palmier, the Weesph, the Pelican, and the Violent.[31]

But Fort Nelson was not to be captured without a struggle.

Meeting of the French and English ships.

At almost the very moment the French fleet sailed, there departed from Plymouth four of the Company's ships, the Hampshire, the Hudson's Bay, the Dering, and Owner's Love, a fire-ship, the two former having been participants in the conquest of the previous year. The Company's fleet entered the straits only forty hours before the ships of the French; and like them was much impeded by the ice, which was unusually troublesome. Passage was made by the enemy in the English wake. The Profound, commanded by DuquÉ, pushed past the currents, taking a northerly course, which brought her commander into full view of two of the Company's ships. Shots were exchanged; but owing to the difficulties engendered by the ice, it was impossible to manoeuvre with such certainty as to cut off the Frenchman's escape. While this skirmish was in progress, Iberville in the Pelican succeeded in getting past the English unknown to them, and reached the mouth of the Nelson River in sight of the fort. His presence, as may be imagined, greatly surprised and disturbed the Governor and the Company's servants; for they had believed their own ships would have arrived in season to prevent the enemy from entering the straits. Several rounds of shot were fired as a signal, in the hope that a response would be made by the Company's ships which they hourly expected in that quarter.

On his part the French commander was equally disturbed by the non-arrival of his three consorts, which the exigencies of the voyage had obliged him to forsake. Two days were passed in a state of suspense. At daybreak on the fifth of September three ships[32] were distinctly visible; both parties joyfully believed they were their own. So certain was Iberville, that he immediately raised anchor and started to join the newcomers. He was soon undeceived, but the perception of his mistake in no way daunted him.

The Company's commanders were not prepared either for the daring or the fury of the Frenchman's onslaught. It is true the Pelican was much superior to any of their own craft singly, being manned by nearly two hundred and fifty men, and boasting forty-four pieces of cannon. The Company's ships lined up, the Hampshire in front, the Dering next, with the Hudson's Bay bringing up the rear.

"Hampshire." "Hudson's Bay." "Dering."

A fierce battle in the Bay.

The combatants being in close proximity the battle began at half-past nine in the morning. The French commander came straight for the Hampshire, whose captain, believing it was his enemy's design to board, instantly lowered his mainsheet and put up his fore-top-sail. Contact having been by these means narrowly evaded, the scene of battle suddenly shifted to the Pelican and the Dering, whose mainsail was smitten by a terrific volley. At the same time the Hudson's Bay, veering, received a damaging broadside. The Company's men could distinctly hear the orders shouted by Iberville to both ships to discharge a musket fire into the Dering's forecastle, but in this move he was anticipated by the English sailors, who poured a storm of bullets in upon the Frenchman, accompanied by a broadside of grape, which wrought havoc with her sails. While the cries of the wounded on the Pelican could be distinctly heard, all three of the Company's ships opened fire, with the design of disabling her rigging. But the captain of the Hudson's Bay, seeing that he could not engage the Pelican, owing to Iberville's tactics, determined to run in front of her and give her the benefit of a constant hull fire, besides taking the wind from her sails. Iberville observed the movement; the two English vessels were near; he veered around, and by a superb piece of seamanship came so near to the Hampshire that the crew of the latter saw that boarding was intended. Every man flew out on the main deck, with his pistol and cutlass, and a terrific broadside of grape on the part of the Englishman alone saved him.

The battle raged hotter and fiercer. The Hampshire's salvation had been only temporary; at the end of three hours and a half she began to sink, with all sails set. When this occurred, Iberville had ninety men wounded, forty being struck by a single broadside. Notwithstanding this, he decided at once to push matters with the Hampshire's companions, although the Pelican was in a badly damaged state, especially the forecastle, which was a mass of splinters.

The enemy made at once for the Dering, which, besides being the smallest ship, had suffered severely. She crowded on all sail and managed to avoid an encounter, and Iberville being in no condition to prosecute the chase, returned to the Hudson's Bay, which soon surrendered. Iberville was not destined, however, to reap much advantage from his prize, the Hampshire. The English flag-ship was unable to render any assistance to her and she soon went down with nearly all on board.[33]

To render the situation more distressing, no sooner had some ninety prisoners been made, than a storm arose; so that it became out of the question to approach the shore with design of landing. They were without a long-boat and each attempt to launch canoes in the boiling surf was attended with failure.

A great storm.

Night fell; the wind instead of calming, grew fiercer. The sea became truly terrible, seeking, seemingly, with all its power to drive the Pelican and the Hudson's Bay upon the coast. The rudders of each ship broke; the tide rose and there seemed no hope for the crews whose destiny was so cruel. Their only hope in the midst of the bitter blast and clouds of snow which environed them, lay in the strength of their cables. Soon after nine o'clock the Hudson's Bay and its anchor parted with a shock.

"Instantly," says one of the survivors, "a piercing cry went up from our forecastle. The wounded and dead lay heaped up, with so little separation one from the other that silence and moans alone distinguished them. All were icy cold, and covered with blood. They had told us the anchor would hold; and we dreaded being washed up on the shore stiff the next morning."

A huge wave broke over the main deck and the ship rocked desperately. Two hours later the keel was heard to split, and the ship was hurled rudderless to and fro in the trough of the sea.

By the French account, matters were in no more enviable state aboard the Pelican; Iberville, however, amidst scenes rivalling those just described, did his best to animate his officers and men with a spirit equalling his own.

"It is better," he cried, "to die, if we must, outside the bastions of Fort Bourbon than to perish here like pent sheep on board."

Terrible plight of the shipwrecked French.

When morning broke, it was seen by the French that their ship was not yet submerged, and it was resolved to disembark by such means as lay in their power. The Company's servants were more fortunate. The Hudson's Bay had drifted eight miles to the south of the fort, and was wrecked on a bank of icy marshland, which at least constrained them to wade no deeper than their knees. The French, however, were forced to make their way through the icy water submerged to their necks, from the results of which terrible exposure no fewer than eighteen marines and seamen lost their lives. Once on shore they could not, like the English, look forward to a place of refuge and appease their hunger with provisions and drink. They were obliged, in their shivering, half frozen state, to subsist upon moss and seaweed, but for which indifferent nourishment they must inevitably have perished.

The Company's garrison witnessed the calamities which were overtaking the French, but not knowing how great their number, and assured of their hostility, did not attempt any acts of mercy. They perceived the enemy camped in a wood, less than two leagues distant, where, building several large fires they sought to restore their spirits by means of warmth and hot draughts of boiled herbs.

While the fort was being continually recruited by survivors of the two wrecked ships, the other three French vessels had arrived on the scene. The fourth, the Violent, lay at the bottom of the Bay, having been sunk by the ice. The Palmier had suffered the loss of her helm, but was fortunate in not being also a victim of the storm. The French forces being now united, little time was lost by Iberville in making active preparations for the attack upon the fort.

On the 11th, the enemy attained a small wood, almost under the guns of the fort, and having entrenched themselves, lit numerous fires and made considerable noise in order to lend the impression to the English that an entrenchment was being thrown up. This ruse was successful, for the Governor gave orders to fire in that direction; and Iberville, seizing this opportunity, effected a landing of all his men and armaments from the ships.

Iberville demands surrender of the fort.

The fort would now soon be hemmed in on all sides, and it were indeed strange if a chance shot or fire-brand did not ignite the timbers, and the powder magazine were not exploded. Governor Bailey was holding a council of his advisers when one of the French prisoners in the fort gave notice of the approach of a messenger bearing a flag of truce. He was recognized as Martigny. The Governor permitted his advance, and sent a factor to meet him and insist upon his eyes being bandaged before he would be permitted to enter. Martigny was conducted to where the council was sitting and there delivered Iberville's message, demanding surrender. He was instantly interrupted by Captain Smithsend, who, with a great show of passion, asked the emissary if it were not true that Iberville had been killed in the action. In spite of Martigny's denials, Smithsend loudly persisted in believing in Iberville's death; and held that the French were in sore straits and only made the present attack because no other alternative was offered to desperate men to obtain food and shelter. Bailey allowed himself to be influenced by Smithsend, and declined to yield to any of Martigny's demands. The latter returned, and the French instantly set up a battery near the fort and continued, amidst a hail of bullets, the work of landing their damaged stores and armaments. Stragglers from the wreck of the Hudson's Bay continued all day to find their way to the fort, but several reached it only to be shot down in mistake by the cannon and muskets of their own men. On the 12th, after a hot skirmish, fatal to both sides, the Governor was again requested, this time by SÉrigny, to yield up the fort to superior numbers.

"If you refuse we will set fire to the place, and accord you no quarter," was the French ultimatum.

"Set fire and be d——d to you!" responded Bailey.

He then set to work, with Smithsend, whose treatment at the hands of the French in the affair of the Merchant of Perpetuana was still vividly before him, to animate the garrison.

"Go for them, you dogs!" cried Bailey, "Give it to them hot and heavy; I promise you forty pounds apiece for your widows!"

Fighting in those days was attended by fearful mortality, and the paucity of pensions to the hero's family, perhaps, made the offer seem handsome. At any rate it seemed a sufficient incentive to the Company's men, who fought like demons.[34]

A continual fire of guns and mortars, as well as of muskets, was kept up. The Canadians sallied out upon a number of skirmishes, filling the air with a frightful din, borrowing from the Iroquois their piercing war-cries. In one of these sallies St. Martin, one of their bravest men, perished.

Under protection of a flag of truce, SÉrigny came again to demand a surrender. It was the last time, he said, the request would be preferred. A general assault had been resolved upon by the enemy, who were at their last resort, living like beasts in the wood, feeding on moss, and to whom no extremity could be odious were it but an exchange for their present condition. They were resolved upon carrying the fort, even at the point of the bayonet and over heaps of their slain.

Bailey decided to yield. He sent Morrison to carry the terms of capitulation, in which he demanded all the peltries in the fort belonging to the Hudson's Bay Company. This demand being rejected by the enemy, Bailey later in the evening sent Henry Kelsey with a proposition to retain a portion of their armament; this also was refused. There was now nothing for it but to surrender, Iberville having granted an evacuation with bag and baggage.

Evacuation of the English.

At one o'clock on the following day, therefore, the evacuation took place. Bailey, at the head of his garrison and a number of the crew of the wrecked Hudson's Bay, and six survivors of the Hampshire, marched forth from Fort York with drums beating, flag flying, and with arms and baggage. They hardly knew whither they were to go; or what fate awaited them. A vast and inhospitable region surrounded them, and a winter long to be remembered for its severity had begun. But to the French it seemed as if their spirits were undaunted, and they set forth bravely.

The enemy watched the retreat of the defeated garrison not without admiration, and for the moment speculation was rife as to their fate. But it was only for the moment. Too rejoiced to contemplate anything but the termination of their own sufferings, the Canadians hastened to enter the fort, headed by Boisbriant, late an ensign in the service of the Compagnie du Nord. Fort Nelson was once more in the hands of the French.[35]

The Company, too, was debarred from any attempt at reconquest, because of the Treaty[36] just concluded at Ryswick, which yielded the territory which had been the scene of so much commerce, action and bloodshed to the subjects of the Most Christian King.