Eyewitness to a Hunt

The Red River Buffalo hunt was unique in North America. In the story of the westward march of civilization across the continent no other people organized themselves so efficiently and so extensively for a systematic assault on the buffalo herds.

These large organized hunts began in the early 1820s and continued until the early 1870s, though with gradually diminishing enthusiasm and extent as the herds dwindled and withdrew farther and farther westward. Probably no comparable community depended for so long a time and to such an extent on the "plains provisions" which the great hunts provided.

This excerpt, taken from Red River Settlement is of the spring hunt of 1840. At this time the importance of the buffalo to the economy of Red River would be hard to exaggerate. Though this account is of particular events which the writer witnessed, everything that he tells us may be considered typical of most of the great hunts.

From Manitoba Historical Society introduction notes to the following account...
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On the 15th day of June 1840, carts were seen to emerge from every nook and corner of the settlement, bound for the plains.

From Fort Garry the cavalcade and camp-followers went crowding on to the public road, and thence, stretching from point to point, till the third day in the evening, when they reached Pembina, the great rendezvous on such occasions.

Here the roll was called, and general muster taken, when they numbered, on this occasion, 1,630 souls; and here the rules and regulations for the journey were finally settled. The officials for the trip were named and installed into office; and all without the aid of writing materials.

The camp occupied as much ground as a modern city, and was formed in a circle; all the carts were placed side by side, the trains out-ward. These are trifles, yet they are important to our subject. Within this line of circumvallation, the tents were placed in double, treble rows, at one end; the animals at the other in front of the tents. This is in order in all dangerous places; but where no danger is apprehended, the animals are kept on the outside. Thus the carts formed a strong barrier, not only for securing the people and their animals within, but as a place of shelter against an attack of the enemy without.

In 1820, the number of carts assembled here for the first trip was 540

In 1825, 680

In 1830, 820

In 1835, 970

In 1840, 1210

From this statement it is evident that the plain hunters are rapidly increasing ... The first step was to hold a council for the nomination of chiefs or officers, for conducting the expedition. Ten captains were named, the senior on this occasion being Jean Baptiste Wilkie, an English half-breed, brought up among the French; a man of good sound sense and long experience, and withal a fine bold-looking and discreet fellow; a second Nimrod in his way. Besides being captain, in common with the others, he was styled the great war chief or head of the camp; and on all public occasions he occupied the place of president. All articles of property found, without an owner, were carried to him, and he disposed of them by crier, who went around the camp every evening, were it only an awl. Each captain had ten soldiers under his orders; in much the same way that policemen are subject to the magistrate. Ten guides were likewise appointed; their duties were to guide the camp, each in his turn — that is day about — during the expedition. The camp flag belongs to the guide of the day; he is therefore standard-bearer in virtue of his office.

The raising of the flag every morning is the signal for raising camp. Half an hour is the full time allowed to prepare for the march; but if any one is sick, or their animals have strayed, notice is sent to the guide, who halts till all is made right. From the time the flag is hoisted, however, till the hour of camping arrives, it is never taken down. The flag taken down is the signal for encamping. While it is up, the guide is chief of the expedition. Captains are subject to him, and the soldiers of the day are his messengers; he commands all. The moment the flag is lowered, his functions cease, and the captains' and soldiers' duties commence. They point out the order of the camp, and every cart, as it arrives, moves to its appointed place. This business usually occupies about the same time as raising camp in the morning; for everything moves with the regularity of clock-work.

All being ready to leave Pembina, the captains and other chief men hold another council, and lay down the rules to be observed during the expedition; those made on the present occasion were:

1. No buffalo to be run on the Sabbath-day.

2. No party to fork off, lag behind, or go before, without permission.

3. No person or party to run buffalo before the general order.

4. Every captain with his men, in turn, to patrol the camp, and keep guard.

5. For the first trespass against these laws, the offender to have his saddle and bridle cut up.

6. For the second offence, the coat to be taken off the offender's back, and be cut up.

7. For the third offence, the offender to be flogged.

8. Any person convicted of theft, even to the value of a sinew, to be brought to the middle of the camp, and the crier to call out his or her name three times, adding the word "Thief" at each time.

From Alexander Ross, The Red River Settlement: Its Rise, Progress, and Present State (Edmonton: Hurtig Publishers, 1972), pp. 245, 248-250

Jefferson Highway

I always wondered why the road from the Junction was called 171 – now I know…it was the short offshoot from what was once called Highway 71 or the Jefferson Highway. The highway was part of what was called auto trails, built between the 1910's and 1920's.

...Southern line of Freeborn County on State Road # 7, and thence via north/northwesterly through cities and villages as noted below and terminating at Northern line of Kittson at St. Vincent, and known as Jefferson Highway. Cities and villages on Jefferson Highway include Albert Lea, Owatonna, Faribault, Northfield, St. Paul, Minneapolis, Anoka, Elk River, St. Cloud, Little Falls, Staples, Wadena, Park Rapids, Bemidji, Bagley, Red Lake Falls, Thief River Falls, Fulda, Bronson, Hallock and St. Vincent.

Of course, it went a lot further (a lot further), but it ended up north (in the U.S.) with little old Minnesota State (Trunk) Highway 171...The little road got a long-needed makeover a year or so ago with a brand new bridge that included extensive grading and ditch work that will greatly help with overland flooding common to the area.

Sheriff Charley Brown - Chapter 26

The eagerly awaited letter arrived -- the first since Marguerite left to marry Paul Evans. Worry and apprehension faded and it became impossible to blame her for her hasty action. Her endearing nature showed through the lines, making it unthinkable to do anything but pray for her happiness. Her mother immediately walked over to Susan's to read the letter aloud. As Susan watched her Mother's face, she saw both the relief and pride showing.

Chicago, July 4, 1881

Dear Mother and all,

Paul and I were married on July 1 at the Episcopal Church near his parents' home. I haven't changed my persuasion or beliefs, but we both decided this was the best solution for an immediate marriage. His church, as he has described it, carries down from the Church of England. The service is similar to ours, but it is less formal. No Latin is spoken.

Paul's folks have been wonderful to me. His mother's name is Grace, his father’s, Ralph.

Paul met me at the station on the morning of June 27. We had breakfast together before he took me to his parents' home. We went house hunting the very next afternoon and settled on a bungalow only a short distance from his office. It is a small house with only two bedrooms, but it's nearly new. Of course we have the usual house with a path.

I've so much to tell you that I feel almost ready to burst. Paul is kind and considerate; I find no problem answering to his love. There are so many adjustments to make, as I'm not used to a city -- and this city of Chicago is immense! I hardly dare step from the house for the buggies and wagons passing by on the street. We have a small stable but no horse or buggy as yet. Paul walks to work each morning, a matter of only about a mile. He receives a good wage and says we are secure.

Although his parents treat me almost as a daughter, I am a bit homesick. Paul says we might have to wait until next summer to visit you in St. Vincent. Now that you have my address, tell everyone to write.

How is Susan's pregnancy coming along? I know she and Ian plan on four children. I am hoping for at least one while I am still young.

Sometimes I feel hemmed in; I guess crowded is the word. Although Paul's folks both teach in Evanston, his mother stops by nearly every evening. She is a chatty woman, a kind woman who means well, but I would like a little less visiting. She is arranging for me to take art lessons. I showed her some of the charcoals and oils I brought with me. She was especially inquisitive about my drawing of Charley, wanting to know who that handsome man was. I shouldn't have shown her that one, but I couldn't part with it!

We are going to the lakeshore tonight to view the fireworks. They are supposed to be spectacular. Paul showed me where his old home stood before the big fire. It's completely built over now, all lovely homes.

It is so warm here. I feel stilted, having to be dressed just so every day. No more swimming in the river, it just isn't done here. I miss you all! Keep me up on the news. My address is: Mrs. Paul Evans, 224 22nd St. N. Chicago, Illinois.

All my love, Marguerite

It was the fourth week after they were married when Marguerite began to worry. A heaviness seemed to settle in her abdomen and her appetite began failing at breakfast time. She noted the pigment area of her breasts was darkening and enlarging. Fortunately, she had no morning nausea. Knowledge told her that she was pregnant and had been this past month. A pervasive fear set in that she did her best to conceal, realizing the date she must have conceived coincided with that late May meeting with Charley, south of the fort, and at his quarters that evening.

If she'd only known! Or even had an inkling! Lordy! She'd really done it, crossed all her bridges with nowhere to turn! After moping for days she couldn't make up her mind what to do or say. What would be gained by telling Paul the truth? A horrible feeling of guilt came. Paul was so staunch and steadfast in his love for her. He would be totally devastated.

As the days passed she became embroiled in her art lessons, purposely spending long hours at the school, returning home only in time to prepare supper. The long hours spent did little to relieve her conscience, it seemed she was just putting off the inevitable. Paul noticed the change and commented, "You don't have to spend those long hours at the Art Institute. It's not necessary to devote so much time to perfect your painting. Why not do a few hours at a time? We have an adequate income to support us."

"Paul, it's something I must do. I'm told my talent lies in portrait work -- if so, that's what I want to specialize in. In the past I've been having trouble with flesh tones and making the model's eyes come alive, but I think I've finally found the answers. It isn't the money, although that would be a bonus. I've never had much cash and the prices people pay for a good oil portrait is substancial. Anyway, it's just a driving force that makes me want to succeed. I love to paint. Someday I hope you'll be proud of my work."

Hugging her, he said, "Heck, I'm proud of you just the way you are. Your painting isn't going to change that!"

It was nearly two months after their wedding before Marguerite told Paul of her pregnancy. He had gone to bed while she was changing to her nightgown. As she approached the bed he noticed that she held her hand snugly to her stomach. Alarmed, he asked, "What's the matter? Is your stomach bothering you?"

Sitting on the edge of the bed she looked at him apprehensively, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Oh Paul, soon you'll have another mouth to feed, I'm pregnant."

A grin formed on his face as he sat up and folded her into his arms. "Honey, that's wonderful! It's a normal thing, but I hadn't expected a baby this soon. Dry those tears; it's nothing to cry over; it's something wonderful to celebrate. Wait until I tell the folks; they'll be tickled. Which do you want, a boy or girl?"

Wiping her tears away, Marguerite looked directly into his eyes. Forcing a weak smile, she said, "I'm hoping for a girl. Would that disappoint you?"

He fingered the long hair back from her face. "You know it would be grand to have another exactly like you. Girl or boy, we'll take whatever comes and be grateful."

Gamesters of the Wilderness - Part II

Then each man recharged his musket lest the swamp mists had dampened the powder. De Troyes led his soldiers round to the fore to make a feint of furious onslaught from the water-front. Iberville posted his Indians along each flank to fire through the embrasures of the pickets. Then with a wild yell the French soldiers swooped upon the English fort. Iberville and his brothers Sainte-Helene and Maricourt were over the rear pickets and across the courtyard, swords in hand. Before the sleepy gunner behind the main gate could get his eyes open, one blow of Sainte-Helene's sabre split the fellow's head to the collar-bone. The trunk of a tree had rammed in the gate. Iberville's Indians had hacked down the rear pickets, and he himself led the way into the main house. Before the sixteen inmates, dashing out in their shirts, had realized what had happened, the raiders were masters of Moose Factory. Only one other man besides the gunner was killed; and he was a Frenchman, slain by the cross-fire of his comrades over the courtyard. The cellars were searched, but there was small loot of fur. Furs were stored elsewhere; but the French were the richer by sixteen captives, twelve portable cannon, and three thousand pounds of powder. Flag unfurled, muskets firing, sod heaved in air, Chevalier de Troyes took possession of the fort for the Most Redoubtable, Most Mighty, Most Christian King of France, though a cynic might wonder how such an act was accomplished in time of peace, when the sole object of the raid had been the rescue of Monsieur Pere, imprisoned as a spy.

Eastward of Moose, a hundred miles along the south coast of the bay, on Rupert's River, was another fort, stronger, the bastions of stone, with a dock where the Hudson's Bay Company's ship commonly anchored for the summer. Northwestward of Moose, a hundred miles, was a third fort, Albany, the citadel of the English fur traders' strength, forty paces back from the water, unassailable by sea, and the storehouse of the best furs. It was decided to attack the fort on Rupert's River first. Staying only long enough at Moose to build a raft to carry Chevalier de Troyes and his prisoners along the coast, the raiders set out by sea on the 27th of June. Iberville led the way with two canoes and eight or nine men. By the 1st of July he had caught a glimpse of Rupert's bastions. Concealing his Indians, he went forward to reconnoitre. To his delight he espied the company's ship with the H.B.C. ensign flying, that signified Governor Bridgar was on board. Choosing the night, as usual, for attack, Iberville stationed his bandits where they could fire on the decks if necessary, and glided across the water to the schooner. Hand over fist, he was up the ship's side, when the sleeping sentinel awakened with a spring at Iberville's throat. On cleave of his sword, and the fellow rolled dead at the Frenchman's feet, Iberville stamping on the deck to call the crew aloft, and killing three men in turn as they tumbled up the hatchway, till the fourth, Governor Bridgar himself, threw up his hands in unconditional surrender of the ship and crew of fourteen. Meanwhile the din had alarmed the fort. Though the bastions were dismantled fore repairs, gates were hard shut and musketry poured hot shot through the embrasures, that kept the raiders at a distance. Again it was the le Moyne brothers who led to victory. The bastions served the usual twofold purpose of defence and barracks. Extemporizing ladders, Iberville clambered to the roofs of these, hacked holes through the rough thatch, and threw down hand-grenades at the imminent risk of blowing himself as well as the enemy to eternity. "It was," says the old chronicle, "with an effect most admirable." - which depends on the point of view; for when the sharpshooters were driven from the bastions to the main house inside, gates were rammed down, palisades hacked out, and Iberville with his followeres was on the rood of the main house, throwing down more bombs. The raid became a rout. The French had Rupert, though little the richer except for the ship and thirty prisoners.

The wild wood-rovers were now strong enough to attempt Albany, one hundred miles northeast of Moose. It was at Albany that the French spy Pere was supposed to be lying panting for rescue. It was also at Albany that the English fur traders had their greatest store of pelts. As usual, Iberville led off in the canoes, de Troyes, the French fur traders, the soldiers, and the captives following with the cannon on the ship. It was sunset when the canoes launched out from Rupert's River. To save time by crossing the south end of the bay diagonally, they had sheered out from the coast, when there blew down from the upper bay one of those bitter northeast gales that at once swept a maelstrom of churning ice-floes about the cockle-shell birch canoes. To make matters worse, a fog fell, thick as night. A birch canoe in a cross-sea is bad enough. With ice-floes it was destruction. Some made for the main shore and took refuge on land. The le Moyne's two canoes kept on. The first of August saw his Indians and woodlopers below the embankmanet of Albany. A few days later came de Troyes on the boat with soldiers and cannon.

Governor Sargeant of Albany had had warning of the raiders from Indian coureurs. The fort looked as shut as a locked box. Neither side gave a sign. Not till the French began trundling their cannon ashore by all sorts of clumsy contrivance, to get them in range of the fort forty yards back, was there a sign of life, when forty-three big guns inside the wall of Albany simultaneously let go forty-three bombs in midair that flattened the raiders to earth under shelter of the embankment. Chevalier de Troyes then mustered all the pomp and fustian of court pageantry, flag flying, drummer beating to the fore, guard in line, and, marching forward, demanded of the English traders, come half-way out to meet him, satisfaction for and the delivery of Sieur Pere, a loyal subject of France suffering imprisonment on the shores of Hudson's Bay at the hands of the English. One may wonder, perhaps, what those raiders would have done without the excuse of Pere. The messenger came back from Governor Sargeant with word that Pere had been sent home to France by way of England long ago. (That Pere had been delayed in an English prison was not told...) De Troyes then pompously demanded the surrender of the fort. Sargeant sent back word such a demand was an insult in time of peace. Under cover of night, the French retired to consider. With an extravagance now lamented they had used at Rupert most of their captured ammunition. Cannon they had in plenty, but few rounds of balls. They had thirty prisoners, but no provisions; a ship, but no booty of furs. Between them and home lay a wilderness of forest and swamps for one thousand miles. They must capture the fort by an escalade, or retreat empty-handed.

The Grifter

GORDON, Lord GORDON (alias Hon. Mr Herbert Hamilton, Lord Glencairn, George Gordon, George Herbert Gordon, John Herbert Charles Gordon), adventurer and swindler; b. 184?; d. 1 Aug. 1874, Headingley, Manitoba. One of the many colorful characters that passed through our area was an 'adventurer and swindler', to put it mildly. Pembina played an ironic role in preventing his extradition to American soil once he was finally apprehended for his crimes. But in the end, he took his own life... 

___________ 

The Grifter 

By Bryan Eddington 

Canadian National History Society 

Elegant, terribly proud, and obviously a wealthy aristocrat, why shouldn't Lord Gordon Gordon be welcome in the homes of leading families in Fort Garry in 1872? Wasn't he a friend of dukes, owner of vast British estates, personal diplomat for Queen Victoria? 

Well, no. 

But a year earlier he had conned one of the sharpest, most suspicious minds in America -- Jay Gould, the Wizard of Wall Street. 

Lord Gordon seems to have been really Hubert Smith. A Scotsman near Fort Garry had known him in India and they talked about their service in a Highland regiment. 

Gordon's quiet life in Fort Garry lasted only until the summer of 1873. 

Then, an American who had met Lord Gordon in Minneapolis two years before recognized him. Knowing Gould had posted a reward of $25,000 for the bogus lord, he told Mayor George A. Brackett of Minneapolis. And Brackett told A.F. Roberts, who had lost money through Gordon in New York. 

Hurrying to Minneapolis, Roberts obtained a U.S. warrant for the arrest of Lord Gordon, and two Minneapolis policemen, Michael Hoy and Owen Keegan, sped north with it. 

On July 2, with help from Americans they had met in Fort Garry, Hoy and Keegan entered the house where Gordon was staying. Ignoring his lordly protests, they bound him and stealthily headed south. 

But the Manitoba attorney general, learning a kidnapping was under way, refused to recognize the American warrant and telegraphed customs at Pembina to stop the group. Everyone returned to Fort Garry, and it was the Americans who heard prison doors slam. One of them sent a message to Mayor Brackett: "I'm in a hell of a fix. Come at once." Brackett did so. 

Manitoba's lieutenant governor, Alexander Morris, wired the prime minister, Sir John A. Macdonald. The U.S. consul in Winnipeg wired acting Secretary of State Hamilton Fish in Washington. Preliminary hearings on kidnapping charges opened. Bail was refused. After two weeks of hearings, tensions escalated and both sides went to the newspapers. 

The judge publicly called the American warrant "dangerous to our national independence." 

The St. Paul Pioneer trumpeted: "Our people should make ready." The newspaper called for removing all obstacles in the way of Fenians who wanted to invade Manitoba.* Plans should be "swift, silent and terrible." The Minneapolis Tribune called the refusal to grant bail offensively hostile. The Chicago Tribune denounced it as a flagrant violation of judicial decency. 

The governor of Minnesota visited the British ambassador. Brackett talked with President Ulysses S. Grant. He also told Fish: "We have stood more than American citizens ought to stand." Fish demanded the prisoners be freed. The British government urged their release. Macdonald wired Fort Garry that the governor general wanted the prisoners out on bail. 

But in Manitoba, the lieutenant governor and judge dug in against America, England, and Ottawa. They refused to release any prisoners. 

It was early in 1871 that Lord Gordon had appeared in Minneapolis. He told Colonel John S. Loomis, land commissioner for the Northern Pacific Railway, that he could bring settlers. Loomis immediately invited him on a luxurious trip to survey the land the railway owned. One newspaper marvelled at the forty horses, twelve men to pitch tents, French cook, and waiters wearing white silk gloves. Of course, everyone called Gordon "My Lord." 

Loomis was convinced the Scottish aristocrat would invest $5 million and, during the three-month trek, they selected some 50,000 acres. Of course, one town was to be called Loomis. 

When Lord Gordon headed for New York to arrange for a hundred Highland immigrants, he carried a letter of introduction from Loomis to New York's wealthy elite. They, in turn, introduced him to stock manipulator Jay Gould. 

Gould was fighting railway magnate Cornelius Vanderbilt for control of the profitable Erie Railroad, and losing. Lord Gordon convinced Gould that he owned 60,000 Erie shares and controlled many more. He said he would back Gould in return for consideration, but added that he needed more than the financier's word. Gould handed over, in surety, railroad stock, bonds, and cash worth a reported one million dollars. Then Gordon invented a mistake in his arithmetic and Gould paid him another $40,000. 

When Gould asked for a receipt, Lord Gordon was outraged. Was the word of a British gentleman not enough? Gould left empty-handed. 

Only when Gould heard Lord Gordon had sold some of the Erie Railroad stock did Gould realize he'd been conned. He took Lord Gordon to court, but Gordon's friends, including A.F. Roberts, raised $37,000 bail. 

Gould's lawyer checked the aristocrat's family and found it fictitious, but when the trial resumed, Gordon was fleeing in lordly fashion across Canada to Fort Garry where, a year later, his kidnappers ended in jail. 

It wasn't until September 16, 1873 -- after the Minnesotans had been detained for two months -- that the political pressure brought about a plea bargain. Hoy, Keegan, and the other Americans pleaded guilty and were sentenced to twenty-four hours in the jail they had occupied since July 2. They were then released. International hostility faded. Fenians scrapped their invasion plans. 

But Gould still craved revenge, and Roberts wanted his bail money back. A Canadian warrant was issued for Gordon's arrest and extradition. When it was served in Fort Garry, Lord Gordon quietly packed his bags. He was about to leave when he asked police if he might return to his room to get a warmer coat. There he shot himself. 

Some may think this a miserable end for someone whose main crime was fleecing a man whose own misdealings had made him despised across North America. But the alternative was hard labour in an American prison, and Lord Gordon Gordon probably embraced a more noble end. 

* In October 1871, Fenians -- Irish Americans hoping to ransom Canadian territory gained in battle with London to secure Irish independence from Britain -- crossed the border from the U.S. and seized the Hudson's Bay Company post. They were followed by American troops and arrested.

The Stain on the Record

From Early History of North Dakota by Clement Augustus Lounsberry comes the disturbing facts as described below...

"Oh! stay not to recount the tale - 'Twas bloody - and 'tis past, The firmest check might well grow pale To hear it to the last. The God of heaven, who prospers us, Could bid a nation grow. And shield us from the red man's curse Two hundred years ago!" - Grenville Mellen

From the 28th of August, 1801, to the close of the year 1804, the record of the life at Fort Pembina [sic] is a series of complaints, demands, quarrels and casualties, the revolting details of which involve the characters of many brave Indians, who doubtless merit honorable mention, but who appear at best as "troublesome" and many of them as answerable for a long list of crimes, invariably with direct reference to an abnormal state of mind, attributed to over-indulgence on one side and criminal adulteration of the means of it on the other. The record of Alexander Henry, as made up by himself, during five years of the early history of the Red River Valley, is bad enough. Others were working on the same lines. In some of their journals the record is far more shameful than Henry's, and of his Doctor Coues¹ says: 

"The seamy side of the fur trade Henry shows us with a steady hand that we can scarcely follow with unshaken nerves, is simply hell on earth; people with no soul above a beaver skin, fired by King Alcohol in the workshop of Mammon."

Ingenious excuses were framed by the Indians for obtaining the stimulant which the white traders had encouraged them to use and taught them to prize above all things, and in the dealing out of them of the poison, there was often a nefarious liberality, let alone their questionable forms of trade, for which there can be no condemnation too severe. Henry in commenting on the degeneracy of the Indians, said: "The Indians totally neglect their ancient ceremonies, and to what can this degeneracy be ascribed but to their intercourse with us; particularly as they are so unfortunate as to have a continual succession of opposition parties to teach them roguery and destroy both mind and body with that pernicious article, rum! What a different set of people they would be, were there not a drop of liquor in the country! If a murder is committed among the Saulteurs (Chippewa), it is always in a drinking match. We may truly say that liquor is the root of all evil in the Northwest. Great bawling and lamentation went on, and I was troubled most of the night for liquor to wash away grief." The use of intoxicating liquor rouses the passions, among all races of men; it deadens the sensibilities, impairs and frequently destroys the memory. Love in the home of the man who is addicted to its use, his business will fail, his home will be broken, and his parents, his wife, and daughters may expect to go in sorrow to their graves. There is no evil known to man that can or does bring the distress to the human race that follows its unrestrained use. Perhaps it has been, and may be used to some advantage in medicine and mechanic arts, but there is absolutely no compensation that it has given or can give the world, for the ruin it has wrought in its use as a beverage. A noble race that peopled the plains and forests of North America have been nearly destroyed by its use and the white man's greed for gold, and countless thousands, aye, millions of white men have been unfitted for life's duties, not to speak of the murders and suicides, and of the miserable wrecks in the hospitals for the insane and in the penitentiaries and jails. The flagstaff for Fort Pembina, a single oak stick, "seventy-five feet without splicing," was erected on November 28, 1801, and at the raising the men were given "two gallons of high wines, four fathoms of tobacco, and some flour and sugar, to make merry." But it was not alone the aborigines who exceeded the bounds of sobriety, for it is written, that on New Year's day the man of the X.Y. Company and the Hudson's Bay Company came over to Fort Pembina, and the manager treated the company assembled to "two gallons of alcohol, five fathoms of tobacco and some flour and sugar, the neighbors and everybody else of both sexes and all classes losing their senses, and according to the narrator, 'becoming more troublesome than double their number of Indians.'" Good drinking water was scarce on the hunt and in the midst of the winter of 1801-02 (February 28th), Henry returned from hunting almost famished, and declared that "a draught of water was the sweetest beverage he ever drank." Of the Indian when not degenerated by the use of intoxicants it may be said there is no selfishness in him. His anger and his appetite in those days were uncontrollable, but there is no human love stronger than his for home and kindred, and he seldom forgot to recognize "discretion" as "the better part of valor," and for that he has been called cowardly. No matter what the Indian's prospect for success in battle might be, the moment that he realized that his women and children were in danger he would return. Their protection was his first consideration. Aside from that his creed was a life for a life, a scalp for a scalp. If the Indians traveled a thousand miles, enduring privation and dangers that were appalling, it was for scalps to recompense for similar losses. It was not the love of bloodshed, or for the wanton destruction of human life. It was for revenge, none the less sweet because indulged by the untutored tribesmen.

¹ - Dr. Elliott Coues was the appointed surgeon and naturalist for the Northern Boundary Commission...

Profile: Randolph Probstfield

Randolph Probstfield (seen here with his wife Catherine) emigrated from Germany to Minnesota and became one of the earliest settlers in the Red River Valley, at the Georgetown fur station (HBC). His experiements in agriculture helped determine what could best be grown in the Valley.

Along the banks of the Red River, a woman gives birth to her third child. As her husband helps to deliver the baby, her two older children huddle at the side of the tent, trying to stay warm. The muddy waters flow by, and just days later, the group heads out again. They battle the cold, the wind and the river, only stopping when they reach the plot of land that they can call their own. “The crossing of the river that night is one that I shall never forget,” said Randolph Probstfield, an early settler to the area. “The sufferings, the anxiety, the terrors and the disappointment to me were all events most deeply impressed upon my mind.”

In his diaries, Probstfield talks of buying a ticket for the stage to Pembina, but when he went to board, it was too full and couldn't...overbooking, even in those days!

He also talked about men being robbed at Pembina by someone named 'Lennon'; later, upon arriving at Georgetown, teamsters arrived from Fort Garry. He put them up for the night and provided them with breakfast. He did a lot of business at Pembina and seemed to be coming and going between his post at Georgetown and Pembina by riverboat and stage both.

From 1874 journal...

NOTE: An interesting bit of trivia. Probstfield writes above he has agreed to testify in court for Marshall Burdick. U.S. Marshall James H. Burdick was the man who brought in James McCall, the man who shot and killed Wild Bill Hickock at Deadwood while playing poker. McCall was eventually hanged for it.

Return of the Elk

Elk have been returning to Kittson County for awhile now, but it wasn't until this year that it was felt they were sufficient in numbers to once again allow their hunting.

This is the zone it covers...

Ferry Command: First Delivery

On 15 January, 1940 just west of Emerson, the silence of the early morning was broken by the sound of aircraft. A truck, loaded with 45-gal fuel drums, several cars, their motors running, a team of horses and half a dozen people, some with newsreel cameras, were waiting in the freezing cold. The bundled individuals were looking skyward just to the southern horizon. Suddenly two twin-engine planes became visible. They were the first of a consignment of eighteen planes. They came in low. The cameraman started shooting film. The planes circled, the pilots clearly visible in the cockpits. After a quick check of the wind sock they circled to the south and began their final decent. Touching down on the US side of the field, the dark camouflaged Lockheed Hudson bombers, without markings or ordnance, taxied up to the boundary line.

Joe Wilson, a local Emerson farmer, guided his team of horses, Prince and Fred, toward the planes. He attached a hook and tow rope to the aircraft’s wheel and dragged the bomber into Canada. The newsreel cameras rolled and newspaper photographers popped their flash bulbs. The sudden rush and the flashes were a slight annoyance to the team of horses, but Joe was an efficient teamster and within a matter of minutes both planes were on Canadian territory. The truck rolled up and the driver and a helper dressed in military-style coveralls, started filling the craft with fuel from the 45-gal drums. Moments after the planes were fueled up the flight crew emerged from the idling waiting cars. The engines roared into life and the Hudsons lumbered down the airstrip. Becoming airborne they circled once over the airfield and headed north for Winnipeg’s Stevenson Field.

- Excerpt from “Bombers Across the Border” by James McClelland. Royal Aviation Museum of Western Canada Review, June 1996

The Civilians of Ferry Command

I received an email from a local resident of Emerson this weekend asking for our help. Yes, you read right - OUR help. This email was not only directed at me, but to all who read this blog.

As you will read below, help is being requested on collecting all extent information - oral, written, photographic, or film - on an event I covered previously - but obviously has a lot more to it.

Hello Trish

It has been awhile since we were in contact. I have a request for some information regarding some events that took place in Pembina back in 1940. I was hoping that you might be able to post it on your page.

Specifically the story goes like this:

In 1940, prior of the United States entry into World War II, a number of military aircraft were flown from California to the Pembina Airport. These planes were later flown to the border just west of Emerson, Manitoba. At that point they were towed with a team of horses into Canada (see this article regarding why...)

These events occurred in January 1940. Now the reason for my interest is that I am acting as liaison for Ted Beaudoin. These events are part of story that Mr. Beaudoin is writing.

He is an Ontario-based writer and the author of a three–volume set of books dealing with Canadian and international military/civilian aviation history adventure. He is also working on the production of a movie Earth Angels Rising. Mr. Beaudoin's purpose is to pay tribute to the civilian men and women who came to rescue of the Allied governments between 1939 and 1945. These individuals gave life to an organization known as Ferry Command. The aircraft that arrived in Pembina in 1940 may have been part of over 10,000 bombers and fighter aircraft that were ferried across six ocean bridges to various theatres of war.

Mr. Beaudoin would like to hear from any from anyone who might have information or pictures of these events. In 1940 the Pembina New Era was covering these events extensively and he was also hoping that these files might be available for research.

If any one can help they should contact Mr. Beaudoin directly or myself at:

Ted Beaudoin
52-C Empire St
Welland, ON L3B 2L4
Canada
Tel.: 905– 714-1788
E-mail: jw-dunn@hotmail.com

James McClelland
Box 301
Emerson MB R0A 0L0
Canada
Tel: 204-373-2544
E-mail: djmcclnd@mts.net

From the Montreal Gazette (July 19, 2003)

The photo accompanying this post is a picture of one of the aircraft landing along the border west of Emerson/Pembina . The aircraft is on the US side and is taxiing up to the border.