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A Medal for the Saskatchewan Navy.
Despite the comic T-shirts – “Admiral, Saskatchewan Navy” – and such, there does exist a medal for a naval battle in Saskatchewan. It took place during the North West Rebellion in 1885, and it happened like this: After the collapse of the Riel Rebellion in 1870, centered in the general area of Winnipeg, much of the Métis population (part Indian, part French) moved northward and resettled in the general region of the confluence of the North and South Saskatchewan Rivers, just south of today's Prince Albert, Saskatchewan (in 1885, a NWMP post). But the troubles with land claims continued and relations worsened with the government in Ottawa until Louis Riel was recalled from exile in the U.S. (1884) to again lead the fight. On March 19, 1885, he declared a provisional government at Batoche, located on the extreme lower reaches of the South Saskatchewan. Fighting soon broke out: a small force of militia and NWMP was defeated at Duck Lake (March 26) and, more seriously, whites and two priests were massacred at Frog Lake (April 2) by Big Bear's Crees.
Map of battles and movements during the North West Rebellion. Note that today's province of Saskatchewan was in two “districts” at the time and that the present borders of Alberta are now much further east. Canada – especially “Orange” Ontario – was in an immediate uproar. Within days, recruits flocked to the colours and the militia called out, the demands for a punitive expedition too loud to ignore. Practically everyone overlooked the fact that the country was totally unprepared for such an enterprise and had it been “real war” against a trained foe instead of the disorganized, outnumbered and ill-equipped Métis/Indian “rebels”, things would have gone badly. In the end, the Rebellion turned out to be series of small skirmishes with no great loss of life. One aspect of Canadian unpreparedness was simply the means to arrive at the battlefield, but the solving of the problem went far to build a nation – sea-to-sea. Louis Riel saved the C.P.R. With any justice, that corporation should be using his image on their letterheads. When the Rebellion broke out, they were broke. There were riots in the Rockies when the pay didn't arrive and although track stretched across the prairies, there still remained some three gaps totalling 105 miles north of Lake Superior over seemingly bottomless muskeg as well as the mountain section itself left to build. Lenders had come to the conclusion that further investment in this “impossible enterprise” was foolish and Sir John A. Macdonald had emptied the federal cupboard to the last crumb. But the C.P.R.'s Cornelius Van Horne loudly and publicly proclaimed that his railway would see the troops moved to the southern prairie staging point in eleven days – guaranteed. He was as good as his word. Tracks in some gaps were hurriedly laid on ice and frozen ground, others bridged by “ferrying” the troops in sleighs and wagons. In only four days, two batteries from Ottawa – Canada's only regular troops – were in Winnipeg and shortly thereafter, others streamed in. The southern Blackfoot were quick to note how quickly the Winnipeg militia appeared in Qu'Appelle and remained neutral. The publicity was instrumental in allowing the railway to scrape up more funds in order to continue and, although subject to the usual political delays and shillyshallying, they had $5-million in cash and a bond issue of $15-million to sell that summer. That November 7 th , the last spike was driven in a track that now stretched unbroken from the Atlantic to Pacific. Altogether, the Canadian forces consisted of 2011 combat militia in the West and a further 3324 called out in the east. In addition were the NWMP and the western “home guards”. In command of the Canadian militia (which was all the military then) was Maj-Gen. Frederick Dobson Middleton, a sort of “Col. Blimp” figure who was appointed the previous year. At age 60 and with combat experience only during the Indian Mutiny and Maori “uprising” in New Zealand nearly thirty years before, it seems as if his appointment had been meant as a sort of semi-retired sinecure; little did anyone know that he would be called upon to personally lead troops into battle less than a year later. General Middleton was ordered west with the Winnipeg militia on March 25, whose numbers included Hugh Macdonald, officer-son of Sir John A. He stepped off the train at the staging area of Qu'Appelle in a brief, but vicious cold snap, the thermometer hovering at -32°C. Tent pegs had to be chopped out of the ground. Middleton was unhappy. He soon found that his men were armed with rifles of three different calibres, each requiring its own ammunition. Most shocking, he found that many of the hastily raised militia had “never pulled a trigger in their lives”! There followed a few days of intensive rifle practice while other units arrived. Openly contemptuous of the fighting abilities of all Canadians, he refused to heed the advice of those who knew the Indians and country the best: the North West Mounted Police. The best-trained men he did have – two cavalry units – were never used in the attack but assigned the rear echelon job of guarding his supply lines. His advance northward was made in three prongs. On April 6 th , Middleton set out with a force of a few hundred marching north through the Touchwood Hills to Humboldt and then northwest to the South Saskatchewan and on to the rebel “capital”, Batoche. His advance was so snaillike that after 11 days – and only 180 miles – he was overtaken at Clark's Crossing by the Royal Grenadiers, bringing his strength up to about 800. Here he sat and waited for the Northcote (the subject of our story), carrying supplies and a pair of Gatling guns. To the west, another force under Lt.-Col. Otter, consisting of a mixed bag of 543 NWMP and militia, set out from Swift Current on April 13 th , heading north to relieve beleaguered Battleford. Yet a third force of 600 men under Gen. Strange left Calgary on April 20 th , heading to Red Deer, Edmonton and on to the upper reaches of the North Saskatchewan River, thence downstream to Battleford and Batoche.
The reference to a “Saskatchewan Navy” must rest with the boat called the Northcote. Built in 1874, it was a stern-wheel steamer belonging to the Northwest Navigation Company – apparently a subsidiary of the H.B.C. Operating out of the general area of Medicine Hat, it had been built to “float on a heavy dew” (it drew but 26” of water) since the rivers there become quite shallow during dry spells. It was not unique; five steamers were plying the prairie waterways by 1885, including a sister ship well to the northeast. Soon after Middleton's arrival in the southern prairies, the Northcote became attached to his command by rental, loan - or whatever – and she and her crew came to constitute the Dominion government's “Saskatchewan Navy”. Loaded with supplies and arms at Medicine Hat (she carried a couple of field guns and three Gatling guns), her first assignment was to meet with Otter's column marching north from Swift Current and ferry the force across the South Saskatchewan. In ordinary times, this would have been a leisurely trip of a day or so but the winter of 1884/5 had been unusually dry and the river was low, in places no more than 20” deep. This forced a great deal of poling and hauling of the Northcote and she was a week arriving at the crossing. One disgruntled deck hand was heard to complain that the Northcote had “walked half the way on wooden legs”. After ferrying the men and wagons across and offloading a Gatling and field gun, as well as other supplies for Otter, she continued on down the South Saskatchewan to effect an ordered rendevous with Middleton at Clark's Landing, somewhat south of Batoche. This, too, went slowly and the dilatory Middleton actually was able to wait there a couple of days and then continue downriver before the Northcote arrived. In the meantime, Middleton was able to get into mischief. Committing a basic military error, he split his force, sending 373 to advance down the west bank of the South Saskatchewan while he did the same down the east with 440 men. It was a gift too good for the métis “general”, Gabriel Dumont, to refuse, now that his actions were no longer being restrained by Riel. With a force of 130 men concealed in brush and gun pits on the northern bank of Fish Creek, a tributary of the South Saskatchewan that runs though a 40-foot ravine, he awaited the Canadians. On April 24, although his scouts discovered the métis position, Middleton could come up with no better plan that a frontal assault. The resulting Canadian “butcher bill” was 10 dead, 40 wounded. The largest métis loss – and really no small one – was fifty dead horses. They withdrew closer to Batoche and Middleton, bringing his western force back across the river, sat tight there until May 7 th . On that date, the Northcote arrived, carrying supplies and a couple of Gatling guns – along with their “demonstrator”, Lt. Arthur Howard (U.S. Army, ret'd). At this point, Middleton showed his only flash of originality, determined to turn the Northcote into a gunboat. This was reasonable: while waiting, Dumont had pocked both brushy, ravine-filled banks of the river with concealed gun pits for a distance of nearly a mile above Batoche. As a sort of irony, the “fortification” of the Northcote was done at Gabriel's Crossing, six miles below Batoche and this was both the farm and ferry of Gabriel Dumont. “Liberating” balks of timber and planks from the farm, the decks of the Northcote disappeared behind wooden walls, the essentially exposed boilers on the bottom deck most heavily protected; somewhat less so was the upper “fighting deck” and (unfortunately, as things turned out) even less the wheelhouse above it all. The plan was for the “gunboat”, armed with a cannon and a Gatling as well as some 35 soldiers with rifles, to attack the gun pits and draw attention away from an attack by Middleton on Batoche in the form of a round hook from behind. Well out of sight, Middleton was to co-ordinate his attack with a signal by the Northcote's whistle when they were abeam of Batoche. As things turned out, the whistle never sounded. And the Northcote attack was inexplicably early – while Middleton was behind time. And the métis , via a teamster spy in the army, knew it was coming and just about when.
“The Attack of the Northcote ”, a somewhat fanciful illustration that appeared in “Canadian Illustrated War News” (1885) At 7 a.m. on May 9 th , the Northcote took off, fortified, armed and also carrying, for some unknown reason, all the wounded and sick officers – including Hugh Macdonald, prostrated with erysipelas. As Batoche hove into view, Capt. Street was horrified to see that the ferry cable across the river there was being lowered to snag his ship and ordered the boilers red-lined; at that moment, the forewarned and prepared gun pits on both banks of the river opened up, directing their fire into the lightly-fortified wheelhouse. With glass and splinters flying, the helmsman was suddenly seized with an overwhelming urge to examine the deck at extreme close hand. At that point, the Northcote struck the cable. Apparently it had been Dumont's intention to shear off the wheelhouse with it; it would have probably snapped had the full ship hit it. But the Northcote arrived too soon and the cable was only part way lowered. Nevertheless, it carried away the front boom, the whistle on the wheelhouse and knocked both smokestacks overboard. With the drag created, the Northcote first slewed into a rapid, then bounced off a shoal and finally drifted downstream only partially under control – by one contemporary description, “a skinned rabbit”. She was forced to limp into the nearest Hudson's Bay landing for fuel and repairs. By the time she made it back to Batoche, it was all over. Things could have gone worse for her had not the Gatling gunner on board been busily cranking magazine after magazine of slugs on the enemy positions from first to last. It was almost certainly largely due to his actions that the Canadian casualties were very light: only three wounded. But this was the “Battle of the Northcote ” and the only engagement with the enemy of the “Saskatchewan Navy”. From this time forward, all actions were land-based. Middleton advanced to a position nearly overlooking Batoche (having run into yet another ambush) but then began a stalemate of several days. Several complicated military maneuvers were unsuccessfully tried, the militia in the meantime limited to forward skirmish lines each day and retiring to a wagon laager each night. On the fourth day, (Tuesday, May 12 th ), yet another encircling movement had gone wrong and Middleton, in high dudgeon, had retired to his tent in a purple sulk, almost absentmindedly ordering the skirmish lines to be resumed. But the Canadians had had enough. They were tired of Middleton's contemptuous dismissal of them as soldiers; they were tired of ineffective maneuvering; they were tired being humiliated by all these little pinprick defeats. The Canadians outnumbered the métis by at least three-to-one; they had arms and ammunition while some of the slugs whistling about their ears were hammered metal buttons – or even rocks; they had artillery; they had a Gatling gun; cavalry; supplies; the high ground. They even had a photographer ! So get on with it! No one is quite sure where the blame – or credit – lay in disobeying orders but it is usually attributed to Lt.-Col. Williams of the Midland Battalion from Port Hope, Ontario, who formed the extreme left of the skirmish line. In the center was Col. French's Scouts; on the right, the Royal Grenadiers from Toronto. Altogether, only 260 men. Rather than forming a line of skirmish, the whole lot as one man dropped packs and launched a full frontal assault, immediately overrunning the gun pits and penetrating into Batoche itself where houses were cleaned out. Later, Middleton and his immediate adjutant, Lt.-Col. Van Straubenzie, both claimed credit for ordering the attack but with the General at lunch when the attack occurred, his cavalry unsaddled, his horses unharnessed and more than half his forces lounging in camp, it seems apparent that the victory was gained by the militia disobeying orders. Hastily saddling up, the remainder took part in the final reduction of the village and the subsequent pursuit of fugitives.
On May 15 th , Louis Riel was captured by scouts Armstrong and Howe. For the final phase, the Northcote again enters the picture. It was aboard this ship that Riel was shipped upstream to Regina to stand trial for treason. (Today, its boiler and other parts are housed in a museum at Cumberland House, Saskatchewan). After the fall of Batoche, the Rebellion of 1885 was effectively over; the “moccasin telegraph” flashed the news almost immediately. There were a couple of more small run-ins: on June 3, the troops of Maj. Sam Steele, N.W.M.P. – part of Gen. Strange's contingent – fought a small engagement with Big Bear's Crees at Tubilee Lake, Saskatchewan. This is considered to be the last battle fought on Canadian soil. Poundmaker had already surrendered on May 26 at Battleford and on July 2 nd , Big Bear presented himself and his 12-year-old grandson to the desk of Sgt. Smart, N.W.M.P. at Fort Carleton. Nearly all the “big names” were in captivity.
Gabriel Dumont, while a performer for Buffalo Bill (1886)
But one was missing: Gabriel Dumont, the métis “general”. An illiterate buffalo hunter, no orator but a crack shot and a genius for military tactics, Dumont and a few followers had no trouble cantering south to Montana after Riel was captured. Still faithful to the lost cause, he hatched a plan to break Riel from the Regina jail, even to having relays of horses secreted along the proposed route south. The plan was betrayed and Riel's guard doubled by the N.W.M.P. Following Riel's hanging on Nov. 16, 1885 (after a number of reprieves and stays of execution), Dumont for a time became a featured performer in Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show. He hated the life and when the Canadian government, as part of conciliatory measures offered to the métis , extended an offer of amnesty to him in 1886, he quickly accepted. He retired to his farm at Gabriel's Crossing (today, it's “Gabriel's Bridge”) and quietly lived out his days. He died of a stroke at age 68 on May 16, 1906 having just returned from a duck hunt. Thus passed one of the best – perhaps the best – guerilla generals Canada ever produced. Middleton did all right. Promoted to lieutenant-general, he was also created Sir Frederick Middleton for his services and voted a grant of $20,000. He continued to command the Canadian militia until 1890, retired to England and was created keeper of the Crown Jewels at the Tower of London in 1896. He died Jan. 25, 1898. * * * * *
Canada rather proudly accepted the Rebellion of 1885 as her first all-Canadian effort and consequently went to the bother and expense of having a special medal designed and presented to the participants. They were of two types: those without the bar were for all participants while the “Saskatchewan” bar was reserved for those who had actually been in battle with the Indians or Métis . Its issue raised something of a furor with the veterans of the Fenian Raids nearly 20 years before since they had received no such medal. Their wishes were fulfilled and we have the odd situation of medals for actions well in the past being issued after a later action. As a “first effort”, an unrepeated oversight caused – and causes – some difficulty. They were presented unnamed. It was up to the recipient to have his name and perhaps also unit engraved on the edge at his own expense. Most did so – but some did not. In addition, not all those eligible could be located and were never presented (presumably they were destroyed after a decent waiting period). It was this medal that the members of the “Saskatchewan Navy”, the officers and crew of the Northcote , were eligible to receive – and their names are entered as such on the Medal Roll. They are listed below, those known to have rated a clasp (and therefore were certainly present at the Batoche action) noted with an asterisk, the others rated a medal only, no clasp. Question mark indicates members of whom we are unsure whether they rated a clasp or not. With their rating or position, they are: Street* (master); Seager* (pilot); McLeod (Mate); L'Heureux* (Engineer); Hurst* (Ass't Engineer); McAndrews? and McIvor* (Firemen); McDonnell and Smith* (Carpenters); Talbot* (Clerk); McDonald* (Ass't Clerk); McEwan* (Cook); Kerr* and Long* (Stewards); Hutchings and Elsham* (Waiters); Haight* and Craiggie* (Watchmen); Hourie* and Gougeon* (Interpreters); C. Thompson* and J. Thompson? (Scouts); Unger?, Simpson*, Sutcliffe*, Roland?, J. McLeod?, W. McLeod?, McGillvray?, Hughes, McCue?, McNeil?, Morgan?, Minchington?, Morgan?, Carson?, Cave and Chase? (Deckhands). When recipients of this decoration had their names engraved on the edge, practically all proudly included their military unit as well. Therefore, should a collector happen across a decoration with one of the above names and no army unit (possibly even with Northcote on it), he has a medal of the Saskatchewan Navy – and quite a rare piece. The South Saskatchewan rises in southern Alberta, the North Saskatchewan about half way up the present province, both formed by the conjuncture of smaller steams. In general, both flow to the east and north, coming together some 50km east of Prince Albert to form the “Saskatchewan” which continues to the northeast and empties into the northern part of Lake Winnipeg. Therefore, “downstream” on a map is actually up and to the right.
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“A Medal for the Saskatchewan Navy” . . . . . 4 - 13 “The General Motors Experimental Cents” . . . . . . 14 “The Pollock ‘Relief Tokens', Hamilton, Ont. . . . . . . 15 - 16 “The Occupation of Jersey Notes, WWII” . . . . . . . 16
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