"May 4th As we neared Clarke's Crossing this afternoon, "B" and "D" Companies were much disappointed to receive orders to remain there and guard the supplies assembled at that point, while "A" and "C" were to proceed down the river and join Middleton at the front...we landed at Clarke's and went under canvas as cheerfully as possible
12 days of drilling every year
on a city field - does this a soldier make?
One of the wounded from Fish Creek
told me how that night, sleet turned to slush
huddled against the weather, groans
of wounded and those who had barged
across the river near the end without
coats or gear - how he wished for a house. This morning
in my tent as I wait for dawn to come
I am chilled to my soul. Birds
call as if they are the only
way to summon the sun.
My hands are as cold as the barrel of my gun.
* * *
Mistahimaskwa Frog Lake, massacre of nine
Nine men were killed at Frog Lake to feed hundreds and it was called a Massacre.
Eight men were hung at Fort Battleford to appease the white man, and it was called Justice.
On the second of April, we begged Thomas Quinn
food for our starving. We were all winter-thin.
The treaties we'd signed promised in times
of pestilence and famine we'd be given relief.
If the Queen was a liar, Quinn was a thief.
He turned us like lamed rabbits to a wolf, sent us home empty-handed
Banished back to the bush, some turned to the landed
Who'd profited from all that we'd given away
Our children were dying - what could I say?
Quinn even refused us our regular rations
Hungry mothers, pregnant women, small children - our passions
for our loved ones was stronger than hunger or fear.
Wandering Spirit saw only one path draw clear.
He gave Quinn four warnings to leave Frog Lake.
Of those four it was only the fifth he would take
Written clear on a bullet. More men filled with lead
- I ran to them shouting "stop" - but nine men lay dead.
My men ceased that day, and without blood burnt the Fort.
Saved briefly from famine, I feared our reward
would not be long-lived. For I had no delusion:
While treaties were idle promises, not so retribution.
As I think on this time I am two years in prison
With one year of life left, if unmistaken my vision.
Both Big Bear and Poundmaker believed in passive resistance and holding out in hope for the treaty promises to be kept. Big Bear had, in fact, held off signing the treaties for six years because of their unfavorable terms, but had finally signed on three years before 1885, to promises that his people would be fed. That winter their bands were starving, and when they heard of the Métis defeating the RCMP at Duck Lake, some of Big Bear's men decided it was worth risking their own lives in order to obtain food for their hungry, when Big Bear's pleadings fell once again on deaf ears.
12 days of drilling every year
on a city field - does this a soldier make?
One of the wounded from Fish Creek
told me how that night, sleet turned to slush
huddled against the weather, groans
of wounded and those who had barged
across the river near the end without
coats or gear - how he wished for a house. This morning
in my tent as I wait for dawn to come
I am chilled to my soul. Birds
call as if they are the only
way to summon the sun.
My hands are as cold as the barrel of my gun.
* * *
Mistahimaskwa Frog Lake, massacre of nine
Nine men were killed at Frog Lake to feed hundreds and it was called a Massacre.
Eight men were hung at Fort Battleford to appease the white man, and it was called Justice.
On the second of April, we begged Thomas Quinn
food for our starving. We were all winter-thin.
The treaties we'd signed promised in times
of pestilence and famine we'd be given relief.
If the Queen was a liar, Quinn was a thief.
He turned us like lamed rabbits to a wolf, sent us home empty-handed
Banished back to the bush, some turned to the landed
Who'd profited from all that we'd given away
Our children were dying - what could I say?
Quinn even refused us our regular rations
Hungry mothers, pregnant women, small children - our passions
for our loved ones was stronger than hunger or fear.
Wandering Spirit saw only one path draw clear.
He gave Quinn four warnings to leave Frog Lake.
Of those four it was only the fifth he would take
Written clear on a bullet. More men filled with lead
- I ran to them shouting "stop" - but nine men lay dead.
My men ceased that day, and without blood burnt the Fort.
Saved briefly from famine, I feared our reward
would not be long-lived. For I had no delusion:
While treaties were idle promises, not so retribution.
As I think on this time I am two years in prison
With one year of life left, if unmistaken my vision.
Both Big Bear and Poundmaker believed in passive resistance and holding out in hope for the treaty promises to be kept. Big Bear had, in fact, held off signing the treaties for six years because of their unfavorable terms, but had finally signed on three years before 1885, to promises that his people would be fed. That winter their bands were starving, and when they heard of the Métis defeating the RCMP at Duck Lake, some of Big Bear's men decided it was worth risking their own lives in order to obtain food for their hungry, when Big Bear's pleadings fell once again on deaf ears.
5 comments:
Hey you. What's your source material? I'd love to dig right in, because I'm writing something about this expedition (a novel, so no worries...)
I like how you're doing both sides of this conflict, by the way. Is this how you imagine them laid out? Are these specific pairings of poems?
Coo. What expedition are you writing up?
I don't know that the pairings I have here will be the final ones, right now I'm trying to go by corresponding dates as they happen - but there is some backfilling to do (lots of stuff happened in March and April)...
My starting point is a journal that a descendant passed along to me...photocopy of entries from a history mag. He was with the Midlands (ON) - (if you're doing the W'peg regiment, from what I"d read they had largely not shot guns before (ouch)
- journal source was another poet, actually, too -
The other side is no specific source. You can get a lot of crap googling, but make sure you read several accounts and best of all compare to oral tradition if you have access to Elders and storytellers (125 yrs ago is not that long - stories from only a generation or two ago, still around...)
Rev. Stan Cuthand was telling me about being a boy and translating for veterans of Cut Knife...and a woman from Battleford was writing it all down. What I wouldn't give to find out who it was and read her notes...
What is most interesting to me is that 1885 was largely used as justification for the feds to push thru the policies they already had ready - incldg. residential schools, and reserve lockup (Indians found off-reserve without written permission were subject to automatic arrest, that was still in effect until less than 50 yrs ago, one reason so many First Nation & Métis men enlisted in both World Wars.)
I really enjoyed reading these, made me cry. So long ago, yet still feels so ongoing.
Andie,
I'm reading backwards through these entries, catching up. A great, evocative project. I too like the pairings as I way to tell this story. Loved "Birds call as if they are the only way to summon the sun. My hands are as cold as the barrel of my gun."
Look forward to more. Hope you hear good news!
Oui, très cool. Just an interesting (to me!) piece of info. I believe this is the first time anything of this sort will take place. It's to celebrate the new location of Winnipeg's Cercle Molière next season. It is a play written in both French & Métchiffe. I can't wait to get our two communities together!
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