Louis Riel and Gabriel Dumont (7 page)

Gabriel knows that the Métis, though, will keep their wits about them. In Dumont’s
Memoirs,
years after the uprising, Gabriel notes of this time:

For there is not a more docile people, as disinterested in material goods as the Métis. And I am certain, that if one had given the more cool-headed Métis the alternative of renouncing their rights than winning them through bloodshed, there would not have been a single one of them who would have made the sacrifice; they would have been slightly vexed at first but then would have said cheekily: “Let them keep their rights then! Who needs them anyway!”

Regardless of the desire for most to not turn to violence even as a last resort, tensions run high, and the Métis are devastated to learn of the telegram message that Dewdney tried to hide. News travels fast, even in this lightly populated area. The Métis, yet again, have been forsaken by John A. Macdonald. His government cannot find it in its heart or in its conscience to offer them clear title to the land they’ve cleared, built homes upon, and settled. All these years of back-breaking work, and for what? For speculators to swarm in once again, selling Métis land literally out from under them to corporations or rich individuals, the government rubbing salt in the wound by offering free land to newly arrived immigrants. How did the Métis become invisible? Why are they being treated in this way? No one, not the priests or the bureaucrats or the chief factor of Fort Carlton, Lawrence Clarke, dares to answer. To the Canadian government, the rich land upon which the Métis have settled, land that soon will have a railroad running through it followed by the economic boom shortly thereafter, this land is far more valuable than the half-breeds who live on it.

Alas, the Métis are not ignorant, nor are they stupid. The priests and the bureaucrats don’t need to say aloud what the situation is. The half-breeds are adept at reading the weather, at knowing which way the wind blows. They are a people of and part of this land. They will not be pushed to act foolishly. This foolishness will be left to another.

The Métis gather at the Saint-Laurent church in large numbers on March 7, when the bad news has settled over the land like more snow. With the support of Gabriel, Louis announces that a provisional government should be created based on the abdication of federal government functions through neglect. Louis has re-worked the petition so recently shot down by Ottawa as a bill of rights for the people with ten straightforward points:

1) That the half-breeds of the North-West Territories be given grants similar to those accorded to the half-breeds of Manitoba by the Act of 1870.

2) That patents be issued to all half-breed and white settlers who have fairly earned the right of possession on their farms.

3) That the provinces of Alberta and Saskatchewan be forthwith organized with legislatures of their own, so that the people may no longer be subjected to the despotism of Mr. Dewdney.

4) That in these new provincial legislatures, while representation according to population shall be the supreme principle, the Métis shall have a fair and reasonable share of representation.

5) That the offices of trust throughout these provinces be given to the residents of the country, as far as practicable, and that we denounce the appointment of disreputable outsiders and repudiate their authority.

6) That this region be administered for the benefit of the actual settler, and not for the advantage of the alien speculator.

7) That better provision be made for the Indians, the parliamentary grant to be increased and lands set apart as an endowment for the establishment of hospitals and schools for the use of whites, half-breeds, and Indians, at such places as the provincial legislatures may determine.

8)That all lawful customs and usages which obtain among the Métis be respected.

9)That the land department of the Dominion government be administered as far as practicable from Winnipeg, so that the settlers may not be compelled as heretofore to go to Ottawa for the settlement of questions in dispute between them and the land commissioner.

10)That the timber regulations be made more liberal,and that the settler be treated as having rights in this country.

Far from being the rebellious, antagonistic, dangerous, revolutionary, and blood-smeared doctrine that men like Lawrence Clarke warned the federal government about, this bill of rights is simple, direct, and incredibly enlightened. Nothing in it, or the similarly worded petition sent the autumn before, asks for anything unfair or beyond the bounds of respectability. When viewed in this light, it becomes quite easy to understand why the Métis became anxious and angry when John A. finally showed his hand.

Gabriel knows that Louis does not want violence, that he detests it. This is proven to all at the meeting when Louis makes it clear that as soon as the federal government addresses the gathered Métis by forming a commission to deal with these respectful demands properly, their newly cobbled provisional government will immediately disband. Gabriel views this as a wise play, and one that all can agree with. The provisional government is simply a tool to help ratchet the tension up enough so that Ottawa will come to the table rather than sending a demeaning telegram.

Accounts of the fateful day of March 17, 1865, vary quite widely, but most agree that a group of Métis riders came upon the chief factor of Fort Carlton, Lawrence Clarke, who claimed he was returning from business in Ottawa. When they asked him if he had any news for them regarding their land claims, he surprised and shocked them when he supposedly spat, “The only answer you will get will be bullets.”

What he continued to say, according to Siggins’s Riel biography, is that he’d passed an encampment of five hundred policemen who were preparing to arrest the Métis agitators, and they were especially focused on taking Riel. As it turns out, Clarke, for reasons only he could explain, not only greatly exaggerated the number of police, but his false words caused a wave of panic to sweep the Métis communities. As Siggins says of Clarke, “What he accomplished was to jump-start the North-West Rebellion.”

Regardless of whether the Métis were already prepared and willing to enter armed resistance, as some historians claim, or whether they were taunted into it by the alarmist and self-serving Clarke, the outcome, once again, remains the same. The Mounted Police have made the first aggressive move. They have shown their hand, or as Gabriel might prefer to think of it, they took the break in this billiards game. This now allows Gabriel the leader to emerge fully in March, and with his expertise as the head of the buffalo hunt, he calls his men to arms and to action. Expecting a large contingent of police to arrive anytime now, Gabriel knows that what his men desperately need are arms and ammunition. Talk spreads of taking Fort Carlton to the north to secure the necessary supplies and a central holdout for the Métis, but unfortunately for Gabriel this doesn’t come to fruition despite the very strong possibility that he could have done it.

Instead, Gabriel sends word to the nearby Indian reserves of chiefs Beardy and One Arrow. Gabriel knows he’s lost the backing of most if not all English settlers. This became apparent a while ago, especially when Louis introduced the idea of a provisional government and began speaking openly of an armed defence of the homeland. Gabriel believes he doesn’t need them anyway. The Indians will help him, and Gabriel’s men number in the several hundred. They know this territory as no one else. Gabriel has some nice plans if things indeed turn violent. After all, he has fought for and against his Indian cousins and knows the way of the guerrilla warrior. What he needs most—and worries about most—are those vital arms and ammunition.

With this in mind, he makes his first bold action on March 18. Riding with more than five dozen armed men and his friend Louis at his side, Gabriel enters Batoche and stops in at the store of the English settler Kerr, demanding he hand over guns and ammunition. Not only does Gabriel commandeer a handful of shotguns and rounds, he takes his first prisoners of the insurrection, an Indian agent and his interpreter from One Arrow’s reserve. Gabriel realizes that they may come in handy if the time arises for negotiations with the police; he is well versed in prairie warfare and its long tradition of taking prisoners who can act as bargaining chips later on. Many more prisoners will come in the days to follow, and Gabriel will make sure they are treated well even as Louis lectures them repeatedly about his visions and his goals.

From Kerr’s, the group heads to the church and deposits Louis there before riding out to cut the transmission wires. The uprising has officially begun, and it will not be telegraphed. Gabriel knows that the less information his enemies have, the better off the Métis will be. After raiding another local, non-Métis store and taking more prisoners, he watches over the next couple of days as his upstart army grows, as Métis from all around arrive in Batoche to throw their hats into the ring.

Gabriel, using his knowledge as leader of the buffalo hunt, organizes this small army of maybe three hundred men into appropriate groups. The best riders will act as scouts, patrolling both banks of the South Saskatchewan River, keeping a sharp eye for the enemy. His next mission is to make a plan to take not only Fort Carlton but the nearby town of Prince Albert as well. In this way, the greatest multifaceted problem—arms, ammunition, supplies, and food— will be dealt with once and for all, and the Métis will be in a place to wage a guerrilla standoff for months, if need be.

This makes perfect sense in Dumont’s closest circle of men, but when Louis gets wind of the plan, he puts his foot down regarding what might end up being unnecessary violence. Gabriel, having been in the position of having to kill or be killed before, is willing to go to the place he implicitly understands is dangerous and where, most likely, men will lose their lives. But during these days when no violence has yet been perpetrated by either side, Louis’s strong aversion to it wins the day. On a number of occasions in the near future, Louis’s decision to allow the insurrection and the Métis’ literal fight for their lives to go only so far ultimately destroys any chances the Métis might have. Gabriel mustn’t be happy at all with the call, and tells Louis on a number of occasions that he is giving the enemy too much leeway, but in the end he cannot find it in himself to trust his own gut, for this means going against Louis. The initial problem of a lack of arms and ammunition will grow only more desperate as the weeks pass by.

And so, instead of taking the fort by force, Louis writes the commander there, demanding he give up. Nothing comes of it. Louis, it seems, will go out of his way to avoid bloodshed, but in a rebellion it is bound to come, and indeed, not too long afterward, the dark wings of violence throw a shadow over the country.

As the last week of March arrives, Gabriel’s scouts report that they have spotted police across the river and toward Duck Lake. Gabriel knows the strategic importance of Duck Lake: it lies on the trail between Batoche and Fort Carlton, and so whoever controls it can use it as a vantage point, a place to spy on the other. He obtains Louis’s okay to raid some stores there and to scout it out more carefully. Once accomplished, that evening Gabriel and his men capture two policemen scouting for Crozier, who commands Fort Carlton. One scout lies and tells Gabriel that he’s simply a land surveyor, but Gabriel scoffs at the notion of a surveyor working late at night in the moonlight. The policemen are taken prisoner and, as dawn arrives, with Gabriel and company stabling their horses, a shout goes out that more policemen have appeared.

According to Gabriel, he is slower than some of the others in bridling his horse, and by the time he’s done, a few of his men are on their way to meet the police. Gabriel hates not being in the lead and tries to take a shortcut through deep snow, slowing him even further. By the time he catches up to his men, they are in a standoff with the police. Each side numbers approximately thirty, and all are well armed and nervous. Gabriel jumps off his horse, admonishing his own men for not knowing to take this defensive position. That’s when he recognizes a Scottish Métis named Thomas McKay who rides with the policemen. Gabriel’s shouted insults are hot. He threatens to shoot McKay and makes it clear that he believes McKay is a coward and a turncoat. Gabriel goes so far as to try to strike McKay from his horse with his Winchester, the one he long ago nicknamed
le petit.
But in the scuffle the rifle misfires, almost bringing the standoff to a bloody crescendo. The police, realizing that nothing good can come of this situation, retreat. Gabriel and his men fire a volley over their heads for good measure as the Métis celebrate.

Exhausted, they return to Duck Lake, only to once again hear the shout of yet another police convoy spotted a short time later. As Woodcock points out in his Dumont biography, Crozier, the commander of Fort Carlton, immediately rallies his full strength of troops, fifty-six policemen and fewer than fifty inexperienced volunteers, Lawrence Clarke among them, the troublemaker and instigator demanding that the Métis be taught a swift and painful lesson. Crozier believes that if word of the police’s earlier retreat gets out, this will embolden not only the Métis but the neighbouring Indian reserves, and so he acts impetuously, not knowing that at least three hundred Métis have arrived at Duck Lake, including Riel himself.

With his beloved brother Isidore at his side, Gabriel heads out once more to meet the police. This time they’ve pulled their sleighs off the road and lined them up in a defensive position. Gabriel immediately realizes that the police have come to fight, but still he tells his brother, “We mustn’t shoot first; we’ll try to take them as prisoners; it’s only if they defend themselves that we’ll shoot too.”

Isidore, carrying a rifle but also a white blanket to show that he means only to talk, and his Cree friend, the wise old chief Assiyiwin, who is unarmed, approach the line of police while Gabriel and his outfit hang back and slyly begin to surround them. Crozier himself, along with another Scottish Métis, this one named Joseph McKay, rides up to meet them. Assiyiwin, seeing how well-armed McKay is, calls him “Grandson” and asks him where he goes with so much weaponry, at the same time reaching his arm out to the younger man. Inexplicably, McKay shoots the unarmed chief dead as Crozier screams for his men to begin firing upon the Métis. Gabriel watches in horror as his own brother is shot dead from his horse. The first blood has been spilled. Gabriel’s own blood. There will be no turning back.