The Last Battle of Seven Oaks

Pierre ran to the fence and grabbed two hay rakes. He gave one to Michel.

“Now you do!” said Pierre. He and Michel mounted their imaginary horses, scowling at each other as they became their characters, riding into battle at the head of their forces.

Michel/Boucher yelled. “What do you want?”

“What do you want?” Pierre/Semple yelled back.

“We want our fort!”

“Then, go to your fort!”

“Why did you destroy our fort, you rascal?” yelled Michel.

Pierre pretended to grab the reins of Michel’s horse. That was it! All of a sudden, everyone was pointing an imaginary gun and yelling “bang!” In moments, most of the Baymen were sprawled on the ground. The Nor’Westers whooped, “Victoire, victoire, la victoire de la Grenouillière!”

In the middle of the cheering, Pierre saw his father leaning against the fence, holding a piece of paper. “That’s how it went, right Papa?”

The other boys sprang back to life or stopped yelling. Everyone waited for Paul’s answer. After all, he’d known a man who had actually been at the battle five years ago.

Paul nodded. “Oui, that’s how it went.” He looked at the boys. “But can anyone tell me why the Baymen and the Nor’Westers were fighting?”

“It was about food. It was about our pemmican,” said Francis. “The Baymen took food from our trading post on the Assiniboine. And they stopped us sending food to the other Nor’Westers who were hunting for furs. They gave our food to the settlers, so our men didn’t have anything to eat. No food meant they couldn’t hunt.”

“Then Governor Semple came and tore down our fort and kicked us all out of our homes,” added Michel. “And he stopped us from using the river to get food to our men.”

The boys nodded at the familiar story.

“Do you remember what happened after the battle?” asked Paul.

“Lots of people got arrested and sent to Montreal, but they’re all home again,” said Pierre.

“So many others died, though, and never made it home,” said Paul, almost to himself.

The boys nodded solemnly. They’d heard stories of forts being attacked and canoes ambushed in the feud between the Hudson’s Bay men and the Nor’Westers. They’d all worried when their fathers and brothers were away from home.

Paul folded and unfolded the paper he was holding.

“What’s that, Papa?” asked Pierre. They hardly ever got letters, and he was afraid that it was bad news.

“What’s it say?” asked Pierre.

“It says that the North West Company and the Hudson’s Bay Company have joined together. It’s all over.”

“We’ve been fighting all this time and didn’t win?” asked Pierre.

“In a battle only one side can win. But when there is peace, we can all win,” said his father. “We can work and raise our families.”

Pierre hung his head and kicked at the grass.

“What’s the matter?” his father asked.

“It won’t be as much fun playing La Grenouillère anymore,” said Pierre.

“You’ll find other games,” said Paul. “For now, why don’t you all concentrate on eating that pig that’s been roasting all day?”

The boys jumped over and ran to get their plates filled. Paul tore the letter into little pieces and let them float away on the wind. He turned and looked at his family. Instead of wondering when the next attack would come, they were happy and safe. They had a future. Peace is better, he thought.