by Ken Busato
Chapter 12
The Edward and Anne made land at York Factory on September 24th, almost a full two months from our departure. As I saw York Factory off in the distance, I was overcome with different emotions. Truthfully, any land, even hell itself, would be a welcome change from spending one minute longer on this ship. But where are we? Is this a place where people actually live? The fur trading post looked bleak and lonely, sitting by itself on top of a hill surrounded by wilderness and dark clouds, the only movement to be seen a tiny flag blowing in the breeze.
It’s so cold. I’m wrapped up in almost every stitch of clothing I have, and I still feel the chill of the wind seeping through. I huddle close to Liam for warmth, but he is excited and can hardly keep still. All I want is to keep out the cold, and he can think of nothing more than playing with the snow falling on deck. Rarely did we see snow in Scotland, but here we will have to live with it for more than half the year. I look over and see Angus Docherty, and he too looks so happy in the cold, breathing fast like a panting dog. The expression on my mother’s face, however, is the exact opposite. Ever since the death of Isabella McIntyre, Mama has become more quiet, more withdrawn. She holds on to Calum desperately. For her, it’s about survival, both in body and in spirit. A mother is always closely connected with her children, but she holds on to the baby as if she is holding on to dear life itself.
The water near the actual fort is very shallow, so we had to dock a few miles away at a place called Five Fathom Hole. It did not take too long, however, for a line of small canoes and sloops to appear in the distance. Some of the men in the boats had a different complexion to their skin. I know what happens when you work outside for long periods of time, but this was different. They were dressed strangely too. There was only one other time I saw someone dressed like that: it was when Colin Robertson spoke about Selkirk’s grand plan at the church in New Lanark.
Mr. MacDonell appeared on deck, dressed in his best suit. For the last two weeks, after the burial of Isabella McIntyre to be precise, I had not seen Mr. MacDonell on deck. Normally, he could be spotted in talks with the captain, or perhaps reading a book while taking a walk to get some air. If he happened to pass by where I was standing, I would curtsey and offer up a smile to which he gently nodded his head in recognition. Yet after the storm and burial, the walks abruptly ended.
“Fellow colonists,” Mr. MacDonell started, “Our long journey across the ocean has finally come to an end. It will be good to plant our feet on solid ground. For the most part, the journey was without incident, and here we are at a place very few people have ever seen.”
“Without incident?” I whispered to Mama. “I don’t think the death of a fellow passenger can be considered without incident.”
“I agree dear, but please hush now so we can hear what we have to do.”
“Off in the distance,” continued Mr. MacDonell, “Is one of the jewels of the Hudson’s Bay Company: York Factory. As you can see, there are boats approaching that will take us from here to the fur trading post. Please make sure you leave none of your personal belongings behind. Once we leave this ship, there will be no coming back.”
“I want to thank all of you for your patience as we made our crossing. For some, travel by ship is not easy. And yet, here we are. Word will be sent back to Lord Selkirk about our successful ocean crossing.”
Mr. MacDonell quickly rushed off. He certainly has a way of making things sound wonderful. When I look at Papa and Willie, the last word that comes to mind is success. They both look so tired, like at any moment they might simply collapse. This voyage has aged everyone, except for Liam and Angus who still look upon life as some grand adventure now filled with snow. Yet, the person who has suffered the most is Mama. It’s one thing to take care of yourself and little children, but a baby is something entirely different.
“Molly,” Papa started, “Make sure to keep an eye on your brother. We don’t want anything to happen to him now that we have made it so far. Willie and I will make sure all the things we have come with us.”
“Yes Papa,” I replied rather meekly.
“Is everything alright sweet heart?” Papa asked.
“Yes, just the cold is getting to me. To think it’s only September and I can already see the breath as I exhale. What do you think will happen when it gets truly cold in the winter months?”
“It’s not worth thinking about right now Molly. The best thing to do is to take it a day at a time. When I wake up every day and I see my family safe and healthy I think I am truly blessed. It does not matter where we are; it’s that we are together. This is what I believe. My heart will always belong to Scotland, but I know Scotland is wherever we are. It’s inside of us Molly. Hold onto it and don’t worry yourself about the future. That’s for men like MacDonell to concern themselves with.”
“But look what happened to poor Isabella. That could happen to…”
“Now, now Molly. You should not trouble your thoughts with such things. What happened to Mrs. McIntyre was truly tragic, but I had thought from the start she would not have the strength for such a voyage. She is not you, and I won’t have you bringing it up.” Papa then quietly took my hand in his. “My daughter, you are one of the strongest young lasses I know. It pains my heart to see you growing into a woman while dealing with such things. A girl your age should be learning how to run a family, not how to survive in the freezing cold. Remember Molly, you have the strength of your mother. What happened to Isabella will not happen to you.”
For a while, Papa and I stood there quietly. So much was happening all around us, but for a few minutes at least, the two of us were content to simply stay close.
The small canoes and sloops sent from York Factory were tied to the ship, and the men sent out from the fort were making their way on deck. Everyone wore animal fur, and no one seemed to be too bothered by the cold. One man in particular was dressed more finely than the others. It was this man who made his way to Captain Davis and Mr. MacDonell. After a few brief words were exchanged, this man and Mr. MacDonell started to yell at each other while pointing at all of us. Being observed by almost everyone on deck, Mr. MacDonell and Captain Davis escorted the visitor to the Captain’s cabin. Then the questions and ideas started to fly.
“This does not look too good,” started Uncle Willie. “Perhaps they didn’t know we were coming. Maybe they have no room for us.”
“Surely to God they would know about our arrival,” Mr. Docherty replied. “You don’t take on all the expense of sending people over the ocean to not have accommodations prepared for them when they arrive.”
“I keep thinking about Mackenzie and what he thought about sending settlers to fur trading country,” continued Willie. “Maybe there is no welcome for us here.”
“Well they can’t send us back.” Mr. Docherty was started to lose his patience. “To not be in control of my own fate is the hardest damn thing about everything we’re doing. Give me a plot of land and a few tools so I can be my own boss, my own man. But sitting here on this ship, waiting to see what’s going to happen after two hard months at sea… I’m not a farm animal waiting to see where I’ll be penned up next.”
There was a great deal of discussion while we waited. Clearly, everyone wanted to finally be done with the ship. Over the last week, people were getting angry over the smallest things. No one had patience for each other, and a change was definitely necessary.
In ten minutes the three men returned to the main deck. Mr. MacDonell had a sad, almost defeated look, yet his face has carried that expression for the last two weeks. There was a hush on deck as everyone waited to hear the news.
“My dear Scottish and Irish,” started the stranger, “It is good to see you all looking healthy. I have made the voyage across the ocean many times, and I am fully aware of the difficulties faced by such a long and tedious journey. My name is William Hemmings Cook, and I am the chief factor at this, the most imp
ortant fort for the Hudson’s Bay Company. I bid you all welcome to Rupert’s Land.”
“I must confess that your presence here is rather startling. Word had reached my ears about the grant of land given to Lord Selkirk for the purposes of settlement, yet I did not fully expect settlers would come this quickly. Please understand, you have arrived, and we will do what we can to help locate you, but this is a fort for trade, not a place where people can take up residence.”
The mood started to get angry, almost hostile. The last thing anyone wanted to hear was they were not welcome. Mr. Cook raised a hand to everyone to let him continue talking. People quieted down, fully aware this man had the power to show mercy, or perhaps worse, dismiss us to our own fate without assistance.
“The journey you still must make is a full seven hundred miles from where you now stand. Feel the cold. As the days shorten and the nights grow longer, the possibility of you making your settlement and preparing for the winter is next to impossible. Perhaps you saw the ice flows in the bay as you made your way to the factory. Your arrival here is very late in the season, and although it is just the beginning of fall, the next part of your journey must be delayed until it can be reasonably accomplished.”
Mr. Docherty raised his hand to ask a question, the question everyone wanted to ask. “Mr. Cook, Mr. MacDonell, on behalf of all those present, we thank you for your honesty. It has been a very difficult journey we all willingly undertook. I myself have experienced more pain and hardship I thought humanly possible. And yet, kind sirs, here we are at your mercy. If we cannot continue on to the land that has been promised, then what exactly is to become of us?”
Mr. MacDonell, with his head slightly bent down, waited as Mr. Cook came up with the answer. “My good man,” Mr. Cook started, “You will be taken to the factory tonight. Although we do not have proper accommodations for the size of your group, I will order an area in one of our warehouses be cleared so everyone can spend the night as comfortable as possible. I’m sure all of you will enjoy being off ship and on solid ground. Staying in our warehouse, however, is only a temporary solution until other lodgings can be provided. You may stay here for a long period of time, perhaps as long as eight or nine months.”
“Eight or nine months?” Mr. Docherty replied. There were murmurs and rumblings throughout the deck. Realizing he was losing his audience, Mr. Cook started to raise the volume of his voice.
“Everyone needs to understand what I am saying. To attempt to make it to your settlement now would be nothing short of suicide. This is not England, where the weather is temperate for the whole year. You are now in Rupert’s Land, and you will come to understand what it means to live in such an unforgiving land. Perhaps you feel the chill in the air at the moment. This is a mild day compared to what awaits you.” Mr. Cook started to get very angry with us. “You are here at York Factory, and it is my charge to assist where I can. I am not pleased with the prospect of taking care of so many who have not been in this part of the world before, especially women and children. There is no debate over what is to become of you. Your Lord Selkirk may have a controlling interest in the company, but I am in charge here.” Mr. Cook hastily departed from the main deck and left the ship.
Much of what Mr. Cook said I found confusing. He wants to help us, but then the next minute it appears he has no interest in giving us the assistance we need. As I struggled with these thoughts, I couldn’t help but notice Mr. MacDonell was still standing in the same place when Mr. Cook was speaking. He is our leader, but he looks lost.
“Mr. MacDonell,” Mr Docherty said, “What are we now to do?”
Mr. MacDonell shook his head, as if waking from a dream. “Gather your things, all of you. It’s time we bid farewell to this ship, the Edward and Anne. I for one will be glad to be rid of her.”
That was the signal to leave the ship. It only took a few moments for Papa and Willie to gather the family and the few possessions worth carrying. Our entire lives now consisted of the clothes we wore, and a few tools that could be carried by two able bodied men. Any hope we now had, anything we would need for survival, would depend on the kindness of strangers.
As I made my way down the ladder, I couldn’t help feeling a little sad about leaving. No matter how bad the experience was, the ship was still my home for two months. It was strange as we rowed towards the factory to see the ship off in the distance. I forgot exactly how terrible she looked, especially when compared to the two other vessels in our expedition. As we got closer to the factory, the Edward and Anne was but a tiny speck in the distance. I could barely see her, but the memory of two difficult months at sea will stay with me for the rest of my life.