Murder at Christmas Hill: Sir James Douglas and the Peter Brown affair [Squeero and Siam-a-sit in the murder of Peter Brown]

Quite rightly, the Canadian people take great pride in the fact that their country was settled without recourse to the endemic Indian wars which characterized the opening of the American West. Nevertheless, there were a number of occasions when the stern imposition of British justice over what were then commonly referred to as the "savage nations" might easily have provoked a sanguinary war of the races. One of the most notable of these myriad tragedies pertaining to the red man's collision with civilization commenced on November 5, 1852, when a shepherd in the employment of the Hudsons Bay Company arrived at Fort Victoria with the chilling intelligence that his co-worker, Peter Brown, had been murdered. A young Orkneyman who came out to the Colony of Vancouver Island the previous year, Brown had been residing together with the informant, James Skea, at a sheep station at Christmas Hill, located some four or five miles north of the Fort. Taking personal charge of the investigation Governor James Douglas proceeded with haste to the scene of the crime, where he found the deceased lying in a pool of blood, having been shot twice through the chest. Suspicion focused at once upon two young natives who, together with their wives, had paid a "friendly" visit to the station earlier that morning. As one of the men had been previously employed at the same place, there appeared to be little cause for alarm when Skea had driven the sheep out to pasture, leaving Brown alone with the visitors. The atrocity had been discovered at midday, when the shepherd returned to find his companion sprawled lifeless before the door of their hut. It being evident that the assassins had carried away some blankets and muskets, Douglas assumed that their sole motivation was "the desire of plunder."(f.1) Perceiving that there could be no security for life and property in the Colony under the present state of affairs, Douglas resolved to teach the indigenous inhabitants that they could no longer live beyond the pale of British Law. Accordingly, upon learning that one of the suspects resided at Cowichan, and that the other had fled to Nanaimo, he cut off the sale of ammunition to the implicated tribes, then sent word to the chiefs that unless the fugitives were immediately surrendered, he would send an armed force to seize upon them "in whatever place they may be found."(f.2) The answer was a refusal, together with an assertion that the murdered man had insulted the wives of the two young braves, "and had merited his doom."(f.3) It was a trying hour for the fledgling Colony of Vancouver Island, with an immigrant population currently consisting of little over 200 souls. Douglas called upon Captain Augustus Kuper of the visiting warship Thetis to provide the necessary support to mount a punitive expedition, keenly aware that any action resulting in overt hostilities would initiate a war of revenge, and the imminent departure of the man-o'-war would leave the Colony in a defenceless state. For their part, the pioneer settlers were greatly alarmed, fearful that the populous and warlike Cowichans might ultimately annihilate them. As the uncharted waters off the east coast of the Island were deemed unsafe for a large sailing frigate, it was decided that the HBC steamer Beaver would tow the troops aboard the schooner Recovery, together with the launch, barge, and pinnace from HMS Thetis. While anxious to proceed without delay, the Governor was forced to await the return of the Beaver from a trading voyage to the North Coast. During the interim he continued negotiations with the leaders of the Cowichan Confederacy. Optimism over a promise by the chief to give up the offenders soon faded when it became known that they had been overruled by the friends and relatives of the two wanted men. Force was now the only resort. Concerned that he might not return from such a dangerous mission, Douglas requested Dr. J.S. Helmcken to rush forward his planned marriage with the Governor's eldest daughter, so that there would be someone to care for his family in the event that he was killed. After further delays attributed to inclement weather, the expedition finally got underway on the morning of January 4, 1853. In addition to the 130 bluejackets and marines under Lieutenants Sansum and Moresby, the force was supplemented by a dozen or so members of the colonial militia -- the Victoria Voltigeurs. Dressed in traditional voyageur garb consisting of tassled caps, blue blanket capotes, and buckskin trousers, the French-Iroquois mixed-bloods belonging to the militia were designated to act as scouts, and as a personal bodyguard to Governor Douglas. Two days later the expedition arrived at Cowichan Bay where it was known that one of the suspects, named Squeero, remained in the vicinity. Still hoping to prevail upon the native leaders to surrender the culprit quietly "and without recourse to coercive measures,"(f.4) Douglas requested them to attend a conference aboard the Beaver. Should they refuse, he declared in no uncertain terms, he would then be under "the painful necessity of assuming a hostile attitude,"(f.5) and marching against their villages with the forces under his command. The chiefs replied that they would meet the Governor at the mouth of the Cowichan River the following morning, promising to bring the murderer with them. Day broke wet and sullen," Lt. Moresby says of the events which transpired on January 7, "but in order to gain a choice position we made an early start and landed our forces, anchoring our boats so that their guns dominated the situation. A small tent was pitched for the Governor, where were deposited presents for the tribe, beside his pistols and cutlass, the use of either to depend on circumstances. Then, guarded by the Canadians and marines, he and Lt. Sansum advanced to the front and waited."(f.6) Soon the melancholy boom of wardrums was heard off in the distance, and as Morseby further relates, "far-off cries resolved themselves into war-songs, as a fleet of large canoes paddled furiously round a bend of the river and headed for our position at full speed." The young gunnery officer estimated the Indian force at about 230, "their height exaggerated with head-plumes, faces terrifically painted with red ochre, decked with loin-ropes of shells which met their deerskin leggings, and clattered with every movement as they leaped from the canoes."(f.7) James Douglas describes the long line of war canoes as having "a very imposing appearance as they pulled towards us," the hideously painted occupants "chanting their warlike songs, whooping like demons, and drumming on their canoes by turns with all their might." Although it was now obvious that the warriors were spoiling for battle, the iron-nerved white chief cooly lit the pipe of council and began to smoke, watching with feigned indifference as they came rushing up the slope "in the state of the wildest excitement," their demeanour so hostile that the marines could hardly be restrained from firing a volley amongst them."(f.8) Astonishingly enough, despite the fact that they were well armed with HBC muskets, the Cowichans also withheld their fire. Displaying a knowledge of tactics that alarmed the British troops, they took possession of the higher ground and completely outflanked them. "I desired to move our men," Moresby recalls, "but it would have been ticklish work just then, and permission was refused."(f.9) Evidently bewildered by the Governor's stoicism, at the last moment before a collision the warriors faltered in their advance and stood before him, glaring ferociously. Three chiefs, each bearing a spear, stepped forward to confront the fearless leader of the King George men, as the British were yet known despite the fact that Victoria had ruled the Throne for the past 15 years. Raising his hand in sign of peace, Douglas began to address those who.were sworn to defend the criminal to the last extremity. "Hearken, O chiefs," said he. "I am sent by King George, who is your friend, and who desires right only between your tribes and his men. If his men kill an Indian, they are punished. If your young men do likewise, they must also suffer. Give up the murderer, and let there be peace between the peoples, or I will burn your lodges and trample out your tribes!"(f.10) For a moment there was stunned silence. "Then a chief lifted his spear and advanced a step, all the warriors brandishing their weapons and rattling their loin-ropes, till the noise was as the crackling of a forest fire." About this time Squeero himself appeared, "armed cap a pie," and when the excitement died down a little the chiefs began to protest his innocence, reiterating the plea of provocation that had already been put forward. Douglas in reply "promised a fair trial and due acquittal if their case were proven" -- and so the "great powwow" began.(f.11) Over the course of the next four hours the heated debate raged back and forth as Douglas endeavoured to inculcate the principles of British justice, while proclaiming that henceforth British Law was to be the law of the land. "All this time we were kept in suspense with the pleasure of seeing the long barrels of the Indian guns peering over the rocks and stones at us," Lt. Moresby goes on to say, "and you can fancy how our men longed to get at them for we all thought the talk would end in nothing."(f.12) At last, to everyone's surprise, "the murderer was surrendered, and in somewhat striking fashion, for the warriors all sank to the ground, the culprit alone remaining standing and abashed."(f.13) It was conjectured that the Cowichans were "amenable to reason" as a result of their desire to maintain vital trade relations with the Hudson's Bay Company, under whose auspices Vancouver Island was first settled. In his dual role as chief agent of the Company, Governor Douglas was jubilant, professing that the peaceful surrender of a criminal by this most warlike tribe-marked "an epoch in the history of our Indian relations which augurs well for the future peace and prosperity of the Colony."(f.14) Having successfully accomplished all that was desired at Cowichan, on January 9 the expedition proceeded northward through Sansum Narrows, determined to capture the second suspect implicated in the murder of Peter Brown. Douglas' Indian "secret service" had informed him that the man's name was Siam-a-sit, and that his father was head chief over one of the villages located up the Nanaimo River. Anchoring off the river delta that same evening, the Governor once again invited those Indians "connected with the murderer" to attend a council aboard the steamer. According to Moresby's account: "The tribe had agreed that the culprit should be given up on the following morning, and in the early dawn the canoes came stealing slowly down the current, the paddles striking the water in time to a rhythmic wail, the head-plumes white, and no war-paint, all these being signs of a peaceable intention. At the mouth of the river they came to a standstill, and not an inch farther would they venture until the Governor had publicly promised them a safe return. The object of this demand was soon clear, for the chiefs immediately boarded us, and without the man we sought. An angry palaver ensued, and doubtless they would have been detained as hostages but for the precaution they had taken. However, there was no choice but to let them go, detaining their fur robes as pledges of surrender on the following day."(f.15) About this time it was learned that, as at Cowichan, the young warriors had pledged themselves to defend their comrade. Accordingly, it occasioned no great surprise when, on the morning of the 12th, 15 canoes arrived bringing a quantity of furs which the tribes offered as reparations for the killing, in accord with Indian custom. They were made to understand that no such compromise would be accepted, and as they had not kept terms and delivered up the suspect as promised, Douglas detained the father, hoping by this step to induce the surrender of the son. After two more days of tedious negotiations it was again agreed that the man should be given up. He actually came off in a canoe to within close proximity of the vessels, but on seeing the formidable figure of Governor Douglas approaching to meet him, Sian-a-sit bolted for shore and vanished into the forest. His patience exhausted, Douglas ordered an immediate advance towards the villages, but the boats had scarcely entered the river before their progress was arrested by the shallowness of the stream. This was a serious setback, as he was counting upon the intimidating effect the cannon they carried would have upon the natives. Nevertheless, the troops were landed without delay, despite an attempt by the Nanaimo warriors to scare them away with "noise and bluster." John Moresby, in a highly readable volume of reminiscences entitled Two Admirals, thus describes the events of the 14th: The expedition immediately started, the Governor and Canadians taking the head of the column; and after an hour or two we found ourselves in a beautiful open valley leading to a formidable stockade enclosing an unusually large Indian lodge. The stockade was built of split cedar, about 20 feet high, firmly sunk in the ground, and well braced together, with loop-holes for guns between the interstices. A spacious platform ran round the inside about 6 feet from the top, and this was manned by armed warriors. Lieutenant Sansum was for immediate attack, but the Governor refused, knowing that if we got the boats up, the place might be taken without bloodshed. Accordingly I was sent back to make the attempt, and after several hours' hard tracking by officers and men in the icy water, we got into the main stream and abreast the stockade. Watchful eyes had followed our every movement, and intense anxiety was at once apparent. Not a word was uttered, but silently a heavy sliding-door was pushed up, and at this wordless invitation we entered upon one of the strangest scenes imaginable. We stood in the middle of the great lodge, and the early twilight had fallen, so that the chief illuminant was the flicker of several fires, which sent their dancing light and shadow over the dusky interior. As our eyes accustomed themselves, we saw the silent Indians standing in the gloom of the wide lodge, massively formed as it was, roofed and carved, with something majestic in its simplicity and perfect adaptation to its purpose. Four of us only had entered with the Governor, yet they laid down their arms and listened sullenly while he repeated his demand. Then one replied in their guttural dialect.' It is well,' he said, 'it is well. But what can the old men do? The young men have hidden our brother. They have taken him far away, and our eyes have not followed their track. We cannot do what we would, for the young men are strong and we are weak.' This brought us up all standing. It was evidently true, and the Governor himself was nonplussed. The winter night, with an icy splendour of stars and frost, was closing in, and there was nothing for it but to bivouac and await events. Our men were brought into the lodge, and under the influence of Jack's geniality even the Indian reserve thawed. Standing apart at first, they soon gathered round the fires, and supplemented our pork and biscuits with a welcome supply of salmon and potatoes. Bushels of the latter were cooked by heating large stones red hot in a pit and covering them with mats, when, after filling the pit with potatoes, water was poured in, and the steam confined with skins and mats over all. Oh, the comfort, the abundance of that meal, after the fatigues of the day! It stands preeminent in my gastronomic memories, and when it was over grog was not wanting, and the pipe and song went round, our hosts joining with their deep guttural where they could, and the Canadians singing the songs their ancestors had brought from the France they were never to see more. It was strange to hear 'Tousles Bourgeois de Chartres' and 'Malbrouck' awaking the echoes of the Indian roof and startling the frosty silence! Satisfied at last, warm and dry, we slept till morning broke..."(f.16) At daybreak on the 15th the Commander-in-Chief led his men further upriver to the main village, "consisting of many large houses and containing all their stock of winter provisions."(f.17) This was the village over which his hostage, Siam-a-sit's father, was the principal chief. Perceiving that the inhabitants had taken their most valuable property and fled, Douglas assembled the few Indians he could find and then delivered his final ultimatum -- unless the murderer was given up he would burn their villages and destroy their supply of provisions.! Simultaneously it was learned that the fugitive was hiding near a small village a few miles to the north, at what is now Departure Bay. The Voltigeurs were at once despatched in the pinnace with a party of seamen, to see if they could catch him. As fate would have it, a few inches of snow had fallen the preceding night, making ideal conditions for tracking. Discovering a fresh trail where the fugitive and his friends had fled into the forest, the "half whites" raced in pursuit, soon arriving at a recently abandoned campfire. "Their Indian blood leaped at the sight, and, like sleuthhounds, they followed the tracks, until one single trail separated from the others."(f.18) Led by their Sergeant, Basil Battineau, the Voltigeurs traced the man's footprints to a stream -- subsequently named Chase River on account of this incident -- where they temporarily lost the trail. It was soon regained, however, when the trackers agreed that their quarry had fled upstream, occasionally swimming in a desperate attempt to avoid leaving sign. The fugitive very nearly escaped, in fact, for evening was falling and Sgt. Battineau was about to abandon the chase when he heard a sound of a flintlock musket snap as it missed fire, coming from a nearby pile of driftwood. "the scout followed the direction of the sound, but in the dark could not see the Indian, who tried a second shot at him when the priming only exploded, but the flash exposing his hiding place, he was immediately discovered, knocked down and handcuffed."(f.19) The young chieftain was taken to the stockade on Nanaimo River, where the main body of troops were then ordered to withdraw without inflicting further damage. "It was pitiful enough to see the splendid wild man captive among his own people," Moresby recounts. "What they felt I know not. What they evinced was the stoical indifference of their tradition. Not a sound was uttered, not a look showed pity or anger as we closed round our prisoners and set off on the return march."(f.20) After resting to observe the Sabbath a jury composed of officers of the Royal Navy and the HBC was impanelled, and on the morning of January 17,1853, the first formal trial in what is now Western Canada convened on the quarterdeck of the Beaver. Upon examination the prisoners confessed the "whole particulars" of the crime, and as it was dearly ascertained that the story regarding their victim's attempt to violate their wives was a fabrication, they were condemned to be hanged that same afternoon. Several chiefs were invited to attend the trial, while Siam-a-sit's mother and wife remained in canoes alongside, "beating their breasts and tearing their hair with an abandonment of grief very touching to witness."(f.21) Indeed, the mother was so distressed she implored the court to take her husband the head chief and hang him instead, "as he was old and could not live long, the other was young, and one for one was Indian law."(f.22) When these efforts proved unsuccessful she made a speech "upbraiding the tribe for not following her advice or raiding Victoria and getting possession of all the guns, powder, and blankets in the store, before the white men should increase in number."(f.23) Towards sunset the prisoners were conveyed to the south end of Protection Island -- subsequently named Gallow Point -- where the troops were formed up in a hollow square round the place of execution, ready to quell any last moment attempt at rescue. Simultaneously a large number of Indians assembled to witness the white man's terrible revenge, which Douglas calculated would "make a deep impression on their minds, and have the effect of restraining others from crime."(f.24) Describing the final act, Moresby says: "Neither of the murderers appeared to care one bit for death; they walked unconcernedly to the gallows and stood at least ten minutes on the scaffold without a limb trembling or the least appearance of fear." While the on-looking braves remained stoical and quiet, when the drop fell and Squeero and Siam-a-sit were launched into eternity, the native women "uttered the most mournful yells and cries it has ever fallen to the lot of men to hear."(f.25) The piteous sequence came when Siam-a-sit's aged mother tottered to her dead sons feet, kissing and clinging to them, and imploring that the fatal rope might be given to her. "And when her prayer was granted," Moresby concludes, "she put it round her neck and pressed it to her lips, whilst her tears ran in torrents, and some of our own eyes were not dry..."(f.26) Immediately afterwards the expedition returned to Victoria, where Governor Douglas subsequently expressed his conviction that "the Almighty disposer of events favoured the just cause, and the land is now cleansed from the pollution of innocent blood."(f.27) FOOTNOTES f.1. Douglas to Barclay, Nov. 5, 1852. Letters to HBC on the Affairs of Vancouver's Island Colony, PABC, A/C/20/Vi2A: 104. f.2. Douglas to Yale, Nov. 8, 1852. Quoted by J. Strickland in Vancouver Daily Province, May 31, 1947. f.3. Moresby, John; Two Admirals, John Murray, London, 1909: 127. f.4. Douglas, James; Diary entry for Jan. 6, 1853. Private Papers of Sir James Douglas (2d ser.) Original in Bancroft Library, University of California. f.5. Douglas, James; Quoted in B.A. McKelvie, Tales of Conflict, published by The Daily Province, Vancouver, 1949: 60. f.6. Moresby, John; Two Admirals op. cit.: 129. f.7. Ibid.: 129-30. f.8. Douglas, James; Diary entry for Jan. 7, 1853. Private Papers, op. cit. f.9. Moresby, John; Two Admirals, op. cit.: 130. f.10. Ibid. f.11. Ibid.: 130-31. f.12. Moresby to Father, Feb. 4, 1853. Ms., PABC, E/B/M81. f.13. Moresby, John; Two Admirals, op. cit.: 131. f.14. Douglas to Tod, Jan. 7, 1853. Private Papers, op. cit. f.15. Moresby, John; Two Admirals, op. cit.: 131-32. f.16. Ibid.: 132-34. f.17. Douglas to Barclay, Jan. 20, 1853. Letter reproduced in British Columbia Historical Quarterly, Vol. 6, No. 3 (1942): 205. f.18. Moresby, John; Two Admirals, op. cit.: 134. f.19. Walbran, J.T.; British Columbia Coast Names, The Library's Press, Vancouver, 1971: 197. f.20. Moresby, John; Two Admirals, op. cit.: 135. f.21. Ibid. f.22. Bayley, Charles A.; Early Life on Vancouver Island, Ms., PABC, E/B/B34.2:8. f.23. Pearse, Benjamin W.; Early Settlement of Vancouver Island, Ms., PABC, E/B/P31: 13. f.24. Douglas to Barclay, Jan. 20, 1853. Op. cit.: 205. f.25. Moresby to Father, Feb. 4, 1853. Op. cit. f.26. Moresby, John; Two Admirals, op. cit.: 135. f.27. Douglas to Tolmie, Jan. 26, 1853. Microfilm, PABC, A/ 1360/3.