The fur-trading company never rebuilt Fort Prince of Wales. The distant traveller may behold its ruins to-day standing to mark the most northern stronghold on the North American continent, a reminder of bygone strife, useful now only as a beacon and a resting-place for flocks of Arctic birds.
Peace was declared between Britain and America in 1783, but there was no peace for the American Loyalists. When the King's armies sailed away from Charleston, the last spectacle they saw was the bodies of twenty-four Loyalists swinging from a row of gibbets. Of no crime were these men guilty but that of refusing to disunite the glorious Empire, of refusing to fight against him whom they regarded as their lawful sovereign, and an honest and benevolent prince.
By the Treaty of Versailles they had been abandoned by the mother-country, left to the tender mercies of the American conquerors. No wonder there were men in both Houses of Parliament who were shocked at this treatment.
"When I consider the case of the colonists," cried Wilberforce, "I confess I there feel myself conquered; I there see my country humiliated; I there see her at the feet of America!" "A peace founded on the sacrifice of these unhappy subjects," declared one noble lord, "must be accursed in the sight of God and man."
Months before the peace was actually signed Canada itself, which was to be the Canaan of the Loyalists, was almost lost to the Empire. A French fleet of thirty-five ships were assembled at Martinique in the West Indies and about to sail northward for the reconquest of New France. America would not have dared to gainsay the wishes of her French allies to possess Canada, yet there was nothing that the Americans dreaded more. They knew that the time would come, were France once again entrenched in Canada, when they would be obliged to fight her future Frontenacs and Montcalms for the possession of Quebec and the security of their northern frontier.
But the fears of the Americans were never realised. The gallant sea-dog Rodney fell upon De Grasse in West Indian waters, inflicting upon him a crushing defeat, and so Canada was providentially preserved to the British flag.
It was now time for the Loyalists to journey forth from the new republic they despised and distrusted. Somewhere—for most of them knew it but vaguely—in the northern wilds, in the virgin forests of pine and maple and hemlock, in the solitudes of lakes and rivers, which no man of English blood had ever seen, was the refuge the Loyalists sought. No longer could they hope that their confiscated property would be restored or even that the little they had left would be secured to them.
In the month of November 1783 New York was evacuated by the King's troops under Sir Guy Carleton. With him went all the stores belonging to the Crown, all the baggage and artillery and 40,000 souls. New York was the stronghold of the Loyalists; Pennsylvania had been equally divided between Loyalists and Revolutionists; there were more Loyalists in Virginia than adherents of Congress; and Georgia had at least three Loyalists for every rebel. Thousands had perished; thousands had sought refuge in England; thousands had recanted. Fifty thousand now set out with their wives and children and such belongings as were left to them to traverse the hundreds of miles which lay between them and their new homesteads in Canada. These United Empire Loyalists were the fathers of English Canada. Comfort came to them in a proclamation that England would not think of deserting them.
Seated on the throne at Westminster, King George had addressed to Parliament these words: "I trust you will agree with me that a due and generous attention ought to be shown to those who have relinquished their property or their possessions from motives of loyalty to me, or attachment to the mother-country."