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Platial | Who and What's Nearby
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The Battle of Seven Oaks took place in 1816, between Scottish settlers and Metis fur traders. The band of Metis had set out from the Portage trail (Avenue) at "the creek east of Silver Heights" (Omand's Creek?), cutting north-easterly across the prairie toward the Kildonan settlements along the Red River. The Scottish men saw their party from Fort Douglas, and rode north to intercept them.
Below is an account of the day's events by a survivor of the Scotch side, John Pritchard. While we do not know how accurate or impartial his account may be, it still stands as an important piece of the history of this province, and indeed this country.
"On the afternoon of the 19th of June, 1816, a man in the watch-house called out that the half-breeds were coming. The governor, some other gentlemen and myself looked through spy-glasses, and I distinctly saw some armed people on horseback passing along the plains. A man then called out: 'They (meaning the half-breeds) are making for the settlers, 'on which the governor said: We must go out and meet those people; let twenty men follow me.' We proceeded along the old road leading down the settlement. As we were going along we met many of the settlers running to the fort crying. 'The half-breeds! the half-breeds!' When we were advanced about three-quarters of a mile along the settlement we saw some people on horseback behind a point of woods. On our nearer approach the party seemed to be more numerous, on which the governor made a halt and sent for a field-piece, which delaying to arrive, he ordered us to advance. We had not proceeded far before the half-breeds with their faces painted in the most hideous manner, and in the dresses of Indian warriors, came forward and surrounded us in the form of a half moon. We then extended our line and moved more into the open plain, and as they advanced we retreated a few steps backward and then saw a Canadian named Boucher ride up to us waving his hand and calling out, "What do, you want?" The governor replied, "What do you want'?" To which Boucher answered, "We want our fort." The governor said, "Go to your fort." They were by this time near each other, and consequently spoke too low for me to hear. Being at some little distance to the right of the governor, I saw him take hold of Boucher's gun, and almost immediately a general discharge of firearms took place, but whether it began on our side or that of the enemy, at was impossible to distinguish. My attention was then directed to my personal defence. In a few minutes almost all our people were either killed or wounded.
Captain Rogers, having fallen, rose up and came towards me, when, not seeing one of our party who was not either killed or disabled, I called out to him, 'For God's sake give yourself up!' He ran towards the enemy for that purpose, myself following him. He raised up his hands and, and in English and broken French, called for mercy. A half-breed (son of Col. Wm. McKay) shot him through the head, and another cut open his belly with a knife with the most horrid imprecations. Fortunately for me, a Canadian, named Lavigne, joining his entreaties to mine, saved me (though with the greatest difficulty) from sharing the fate of my friend at that moment. After this I was reserved from death, in the most providental manner, no less than six different times on my way to and at Frog Plain, the headquarters of these cruel murderers. With the exception of myself, no quarter was given to any of us. The knife, axe or ball, put a period to the existence of the wounded; and on the bodies of the dead were practised all those barbarities which characterize the inhuman heart of the savage. The amiable and mild Mr. Semple, lying on his side his thigh having been broken) and supporting his head upon his hand, addressed the commander of our enemies, by inquiring if he was Mr. Grant; and being answered in the affirmative, 'I am not mortally wounded,' said Mr. Semple; 'and if you get me conveyed to the fort, I think I should live.' Grant promised he would do so, and immediately left him in the care of a Canadian, who afterwards told that an Indian of their party had shot Mr. Semple in the breast. I entreated Grant to procure me the watch, or even the seals, of Mr. Semple, for the purpose of transmitting them to his friends, but I did not succeed. Our force amounted to 28 persons, of whom 21 were killed and one wounded."
History tells that on the day after the battle, Chief Peguis and his men took the bodies of the men killed, and carried them back to Fort Douglas and buried them along the banks of Logan's Creek.
The battle took place near the site indicated.
The Battle of Seven Oaks took place in 1816, between Scottish settlers and Metis fur traders. The band of Metis had set out from the Portage trail (Avenue) at "the creek east of Silver Heights" (Omand's Creek?), cutting north-easterly across the prairie toward the Kildonan settlements along the Red River. The Scottish men saw their party from Fort Douglas, and rode north to intercept them.
Below is an account of the day's events by a survivor of the Scotch side, John Pritchard. While we do not know how accurate or impartial his account may be, it still stands as an important piece of the history of this province, and indeed this country.
"On the afternoon of the 19th of June, 1816, a man in the watch-house called out that the half-breeds were coming. The governor, some other gentlemen and myself looked through spy-glasses, and I distinctly saw some armed people on horseback passing along the plains. A man then called out: 'They (meaning the half-breeds) are making for the settlers, 'on which the governor said: We must go out and meet those people; let twenty men follow me.' We proceeded along the old road leading down the settlement. As we were going along we met many of the settlers running to the fort crying. 'The half-breeds! the half-breeds!' When we were advanced about three-quarters of a mile along the settlement we saw some people on horseback behind a point of woods. On our nearer approach the party seemed to be more numerous, on which the governor made a halt and sent for a field-piece, which delaying to arrive, he ordered us to advance. We had not proceeded far before the half-breeds with their faces painted in the most hideous manner, and in the dresses of Indian warriors, came forward and surrounded us in the form of a half moon. We then extended our line and moved more into the open plain, and as they advanced we retreated a few steps backward and then saw a Canadian named Boucher ride up to us waving his hand and calling out, "What do, you want?" The governor replied, "What do you want'?" To which Boucher answered, "We want our fort." The governor said, "Go to your fort." They were by this time near each other, and consequently spoke too low for me to hear. Being at some little distance to the right of the governor, I saw him take hold of Boucher's gun, and almost immediately a general discharge of firearms took place, but whether it began on our side or that of the enemy, at was impossible to distinguish. My attention was then directed to my personal defence. In a few minutes almost all our people were either killed or wounded.
Captain Rogers, having fallen, rose up and came towards me, when, not seeing one of our party who was not either killed or disabled, I called out to him, 'For God's sake give yourself up!' He ran towards the enemy for that purpose, myself following him. He raised up his hands and, and in English and broken French, called for mercy. A half-breed (son of Col. Wm. McKay) shot him through the head, and another cut open his belly with a knife with the most horrid imprecations. Fortunately for me, a Canadian, named Lavigne, joining his entreaties to mine, saved me (though with the greatest difficulty) from sharing the fate of my friend at that moment. After this I was reserved from death, in the most providental manner, no less than six different times on my way to and at Frog Plain, the headquarters of these cruel murderers. With the exception of myself, no quarter was given to any of us. The knife, axe or ball, put a period to the existence of the wounded; and on the bodies of the dead were practised all those barbarities which characterize the inhuman heart of the savage. The amiable and mild Mr. Semple, lying on his side his thigh having been broken) and supporting his head upon his hand, addressed the commander of our enemies, by inquiring if he was Mr. Grant; and being answered in the affirmative, 'I am not mortally wounded,' said Mr. Semple; 'and if you get me conveyed to the fort, I think I should live.' Grant promised he would do so, and immediately left him in the care of a Canadian, who afterwards told that an Indian of their party had shot Mr. Semple in the breast. I entreated Grant to procure me the watch, or even the seals, of Mr. Semple, for the purpose of transmitting them to his friends, but I did not succeed. Our force amounted to 28 persons, of whom 21 were killed and one wounded."
History tells that on the day after the battle, Chief Peguis and his men took the bodies of the men killed, and carried them back to Fort Douglas and buried them along the banks of Logan's Creek.
The battle took place near the site indicated.
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