The Seven Oaks affair was the most shocking episode that ever occurred in North-Western history. The standing of the victims, including a Governor appointed by the Hudson's Bay Company, his staff men of position, the unexpectedness of the collision, the suddenness of the attack, the destruction of life, the cruelty and injustice of the killing, and the barbarous treatment of the bodies of the dead, by the Bois-brulés war party, fill one with horror, and remind one of scenes of butchery in dark Africa or the isles of the South Sea.

This is the more remarkable when it is considered that so far as known in the whole two hundred years and more of the career of the Hudson's Bay and Nor'-Wester Companies not so many officers and clerks of these two Companies have altogether perished by violence as in this unfortunate Seven Oaks disaster. No sooner was the massacre over than the Bois-brulés took possession of Fort Douglas and were under the command meantime of Cuthbert Grant. There was the greatest hilarity among the Metis. This New Nation had been vindicated. About forty-five men under arms held possession of the Fort. The dead left upon the field were still exposed there days after the fight and were torn to pieces by the wild birds and beasts. The body of Governor Semple was carried to the Fort.

Word was meanwhile sent to Alexander Macdonell the partner who had brought with him the Qu'Appelle contingent and had waited at Portage la Prairie while Cuthbert Grant with his followers, chiefly disguised as Indians, had gone on their bloody work. Macdonell on receiving the news showed great satisfaction. He announced to those about him that Governor Semple and five of his officers had been killed; and becoming more enthusiastic shouted with an oath in French that twenty-two of the English were slain. His company shouted with joy at his announcement. Macdonell then went to Fort Douglas and took command of it. But what had become of the Eastern Company from Fort William? Of this a discharged non-commissioned officer, Huerter, of one of the mercenary regiments which had fought for Britain against the Americans in the War of 1812 was with them, and gives a good account of the journey. We need only deal with the ending of the expedition. Coming from Lake Winnipeg they reached Nettly Creek two days after the fight at Seven Oaks, expecting there to get news from the Western levy and Alexander Macdonell. But no news of that Company having reached them they started in boats up the Red River to reach the rendezvous agreed on at "Frog Plain," the spot where Kildonan church stands to-day. From this point they expected to meet with their Western reinforcement, and to move upon Fort Douglas and capture it, as Governor Semple had done with Fort Gibraltar. Their commander Archibald Norman McLeod was the senior officer and would later take command.

They had on the 23rd of June gone but a little way when they were surprised to meet seven or eight boats laden with men, women and children. These were the fragment of the Colony which had refused to go with Duncan Cameron down to Upper Canada. They had been sheltered in the Fort during the time of the fight and now were rudely driven away from the settlement, according to the announcement of Cuthbert Grant.

McLeod ordered the convoy of boats to stop and the Colonists to disembark. Their boxes and packages were opened, including the late Governor Semple's trunks, and examined for papers or letters which might give important information to the captors. The Western levy now joined them, and gave them full news of what had happened.

The Colonists were then ordered to re-embark and to proceed upon their journey to their lonely place of banishment whither they had gone the previous year—Jack River, near Norway House. One of the Bois-brulés followed after them to make sure that they went upon their long voyage. McLeod's party then pushed on with great glee to Fort Douglas and were received with discharges of artillery and firearms. McLeod now took command of the captured Fort.

Huerter, the discharged soldier, formerly mentioned, went to the field of Seven Oaks about a week after the fight and confirmed Pambrun's account.

A.N. McLeod now became the superior officer in the Fort and made preparation for defending it. He himself occupied the late Governor Semple's quarters and passed out compliments to white and native alike, praising them for their daring, their adroitness and their success. A great meeting was then gathered in the Governor's apartments and a levee was held at which all of the servants and employees of the Company were present, and in a speech McLeod told the audience that the English had no right to build upon their lands without their permission—a new doctrine surely.

Leaving Fort Douglas McLeod with his officers and the Bois-brulés all mounted, made an imposing procession up to the site of old Fort Gibraltar. Here Peguis, now the chief of the Saulteaux who had shown such kindness to the settlers was camped, and to him and his followers McLeod showed his great displeasure. The Indian always loved the British-man, whom on the west coast he called, "King Shautshman," or King George's man.

The Indian is taciturn, unemotional, and cautious. He knew that the Bois-brulés had assumed their garb and committed the outrage of Seven Oaks, and therefore the tribe were unwilling to be under the stigma being thrown upon them. When McLeod had failed in his appeal, he laid many sins to their charge. They had allowed the English to carry away Duncan Cameron to Hudson Bay, they were a band of dogs, and he would count them always as his enemies if they should hold to their English friends. Peguis, who was a master diplomat, looked on with attention and held his peace.

It was now about a week from the time of the massacre. Huerter, the discharged soldier spoken of, rode down with a party from the Fort to the field of Seven Oaks. He saw a number of human bodies scattered on the plain, and in most cases the flesh had been torn off to the bone, evidently by dogs and wolves.

Far from discouraging the talkative half-breeds, whose blood was up with the sights of carnage, McLeod and his fellow-officers expressed their approbation of the deeds done, and the Bois-brulés became boisterous in detailing their victories. The worst of the whole, old Deschamps, a French-Canadian, who murdered the disabled even when they cried for quarter, drew forth as he detailed his valorous actions to Alexander Macdonell, the exclamation, "What a fine, vigorous old man he is!" On the evening of this Red-letter day of the visit to the Indian encampment and to Seven Oaks, a wild and heathenish orgy took place. The Bois-brulés bedecked their naked bodies with Indian trinkets and executed the dance of victory, as had done their savage ancestors. The effect of these dances is marvellous. By a contagious shout they excite each other. They reach a frenzy which communicates itself with hypnotic effect to the whole dancing circle. At times men tear their hair, cut their flesh or even mutilate their limbs for life. The "tom-tom," or Indian drum, adds to the power of monotonous rhythm and to the spirit of excitement and frenzy.

To the partners McLeod and the others, however much in earnest the actors might be, it afforded much amusement, and gave hope of a strength and enthusiasm that would bind them fast to the "Nor'-Wester" side.

The struggle over and the battle won, while leaving the garrison sufficient to hold the fort, ten days after the fight the partners and those forming the Northern brigade, who were to penetrate to the wilds to Athabasca, departed. They were following down the Red River and Lake Winnipeg, in the very path which the fleeing Colonists had gone, but they would turn toward the "Grand Rapids" at the spot where the great river of the West pours into Lake Winnipeg, and by this way speed themselves to the great hunting fields of the North. The departure of what was called the Grand Brigade was signalized by an artillery salute from Fort Douglas, which resounded through the wretched ruins of the houses burnt the previous year, and over the fields deserted by the Colonists and left to the chattering blackbird and the howling wolf. Almost every race of people—however small—has its bard. Among the Bois-brulés was the son of old Pierre Falcon, a French-Canadian, of some influence among the natives. This young poet was a character. He had the French vivacity, the prejudice of race, the devotion to the Scotch Fur Company and a considerable rhyming talent. Many years after Pierre Falcon won the admiration of the buffalo hunter and was the friend of all the dusky maidens who followed his song of love or war alike. He it was who sang the song of his race and helped to keep up the love of fun among the French people of the Red River. It was reminiscent of victory and also a forecast of future influence and power. Various versions of Pierre Falcon's song have come down to us celebrating the victory of Seven Oaks. We give a simple translation of the bard's effusion: