A HUMBLE SPRIG OF NOBILITY.
A RED RIVER STORY.
Towards the close of the last century, Mr Beauchamp, a young Englishman of good family—a friend of Pitt, Fox, Burke, and Sheridan—entered a large mercantile house in London with a view, it was supposed, of ultimately becoming a partner therein. With this firm he passed the earlier years of his manhood. With the single exception of having lost both his parents in his youth, he was regarded as a singularly fortunate individual; and at the age of nineteen he formed a matrimonial engagement with Julia Middleton, a young lady of considerable prospective wealth, and of remarkable personal attractions. But just at the time when an announcement of the marriage was expected by the friends on both sides, Mr Beauchamp disappeared in a mysterious manner; and neither the parents nor Miss Middleton had any explanation of the cause of his disappearance, or whither he had gone. It was, however, but a nine days’ wonder; and all minds, but one, ceased to trouble themselves further about the matter. That one was the poor girl herself, who was deeply attached to her lover. Whenever any hint was thrown out which cast a doubt over the moral rectitude of Henry Beauchamp’s character, she indignantly repudiated the idea, and would believe no evil concerning him that originated in mere conjecture on the part of the speaker.
It must be borne in mind that at the period of which we are writing, international communication was not carried on with the same speed and facility as in these days, and a considerable time elapsed ere it became known that Henry Beauchamp had embarked for Canada. But of his real whereabouts nothing was known for years. The facts we are about to record were divulged to us by a lady to whom we shall hereafter refer. He had, it appeared, entered into business with a Fur Trading Company, and with them he passed many years in a country called ‘The Kepigong,’ between Lake Superior and James Bay. Half a century ago, traders were often men of low type, who led lax and vicious lives. As ill-luck would have it, it was amongst such a class that the young adventurer chanced to fall. Out in that wild territory, with no sort of restraint on his actions, in the midst of lawless and strange companions, he often fell a victim to their evil influence and example, and his very weakness and ignorance made him an easy prey to their wiles and cupidity. If he made money, they cheated him out of it. He was often reduced to the brink of starvation; and at one period he subsisted for two months on a miserable species of fish called ‘suckers.’
After countless trials and vicissitudes, he obtained employment at Lake Winnipeg, where he passed another decade; but even there his evil genius seemed to pursue him, for he received accidentally the contents of a loaded gun in his leg, which wound caused him at times great suffering throughout his whole life. But he was a man of pluck and courage, and would never yield to any obstacle which perseverance could overcome. Having resolved to try his fortunes on his own account in a district involving several hundred miles of travel, he provided himself with a couple of horses, and set out attended by one serving-man. On they went till nightfall through a wild uninhabited region, where nature asserted her right to repose in their wearied limbs and failing spirits. So, having first picketed their horses, they lay down to rest in the best shelter they could find. Feeling amply refreshed by daybreak, they determined to continue their journey with no further halt till eventide. But alas for their horses! The animals had either decamped or been stolen, probably the former. After some cogitation as to the next step to be taken, Mr Beauchamp decided to send his servant in quest of the animals, whilst he remained at his post. The day passed, the night pressed onwards, and morning dawned without either horses or man having appeared. Unprovided with a compass, chart, or guide of any description, Mr Beauchamp then felt how futile his hopes must prove—that the poor man had probably lost his way, and that there would be no more meeting between them.
For a while utterly disconsolate, the solitary traveller bethought him of retracing his steps; but when he attempted to walk, he found himself so broken down by fatigue and over-exertion that he could only limp along, or drag his wearied body on all-fours. Finally, ‘worn out,’ as he himself expressed it, ‘both in body and mind,’ and when within but ten miles of his trading-post, he lay down with the fervent hope that death would put an end to such torture; but not liking the idea of his body being devoured by wild animals, he crawled about to get together branches of trees wherewith to cover himself. But in spite of all the man had suffered, death was still to be balked of its prey. Some Red Indians fortunately came upon him, and by his discoverers he was kindly cared for and nourished, and taken to his post, where, after some weeks, he gradually recovered.
Was it retribution or destiny, or what, that made him again such a cruel martyr to circumstances in the next episode of his career? After Lord Selkirk began to colonise the Red River, Mr Beauchamp gave up his prospects in the Fur Company and turned settler. In opposition to the Hudson’s Bay Company, another had been formed, called the North-West Company. Between the two there was great rivalry and jealousy. At the instigation of some of its people, Mr Beauchamp was made prisoner, thrown into a dungeon in Fort-William, and from thence taken to Montese, where his alleged trial was to take place, without his ever having been told of the crime whereof he was accused. After weeks of weary waiting and dread expectation, he was set at liberty without a single question having been put to him, the sole object of his oppressors having been to detach him from Lord Selkirk’s interest, which they considered was synonymous with that of the Hudson’s Bay Company.
Lord Selkirk’s agents having meanwhile discovered that a plot was hatching at M‘Gillivray’s house in Montreal—and the nucleus of the North-West Company—to upset altogether the infant settlement at Red River, Mr Beauchamp volunteered to set off at once and convey the first intelligence of this Guy Fawkes business to the poor unsuspecting colonists. To this end, he started for Moose Factory, in James Bay, in an Indian canoe. When about midway, he was overtaken by the rigours of a Canadian winter, with all its impediments to continued and safe travel. He had to walk to the above-named Factory, and thence along the coast of Hudson’s Bay to Albury, Severn, and York factories, and on to Red River—a journey of two thousand miles, a feat which only a nature inured to privation and hardship such as we have described, together with the substratum of an iron constitution, could possibly have performed.
On the night of Mr Beauchamp’s arrival at his destination, there happened to be some kind of bacchanalian revelries going on in true military style, got up by the commandant at Fort Douglas, Red River. In these our adventurer took part, but in a way that did not greatly redound to his credit. Nothing, it may be presumed, was known there of his antecedents, and as he was heart and soul devoted to Red River, he was advised to find a wife amongst the native women of Caledonia residing on the spot. The choice was soon made of a widow, and in the absence of any clergyman, the knot was tied by the civil magistrate. Shortly after, his pecuniary affairs being now in a satisfactory condition, he resolved to return to England. Whilst there, a longing came over him to see once more the love of his youth and to ask her forgiveness for the past and the boon of her friendship in his declining years. More than thirty years had elapsed since they parted, but the lady had never married. After the death of her parents, she had come into possession of a fortune, and had a handsome establishment in Portman Square. There she resided for the rest of her life, and there, too, she saw again the friend of her youth, and received his explanation. What that explanation was, never passed her lips. We may be sure that no man of birth, fortune, and social position would have sacrificed all for a trifle, and become to all intents and purposes an outlaw.
It was during this sojourn in England that he formed the plan of a ‘Buffalo Wool Company,’ making himself the managing partner. It turned out a miniature South Sea Bubble, for it left Mr Beauchamp minus six thousand pounds. He had returned to Canada in 1820, and an occasional interchange of letters with Miss Middleton followed. In his perfect diction and finished phrases there was still much to remind her of the fascinating polished friend of her youth, from whose pen she had received an unvarnished account of his strange career. In testimony of this, a touching record was found amongst her papers at her decease, which took place some years after that of Mr Beauchamp. When the news reached him in 1826 of the failure of his last venture, the shock it gave him reduced his fine athletic form in a few weeks to a shadow. He was first attacked by delirium, and then fell into a state of absolute despondency. But his mental faculties completely recovered their power; and just at the most critical period of his illness, he was received and cared for by the English chaplain and his wife. When sufficiently restored, he sought some new means of employment which involved neither risk nor outlay. His last occupation was the mastership of a private boarding-school for the families of the Company’s officers at the Red River. In this way he managed to support himself and his family until his death. He used to speak of himself to the clergyman’s wife as ‘a humble sprig of nobility,’ and had ingeniously drawn out a genealogical tree—still in the possession of this lady’s family—tracing his descent from Richard Cœur-de-Lion.