When I took my first trowel strokes, as a field school student at the historic Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Victoria (c.1864 – 1898), Alberta in 1974, I knew immediately I could get to like this work. Nearly fifty years later that feeling remains.
Canada has a long, colourful, and often tumultuous fur trade history. The fur trade, in beaver pelts, was the prime economic driver of early Canada for over three centuries. However, the trade was often viewed with either disdain or opportunity by Canada’s First Nations people who participated in it.
“Of what use to us are the skins of beavers, wolves, and foxes? Yet it is for these we get guns and axes.” (First Nations leader, Kootenae Appee, c.1808, recorded by David Thompson)
What the people of the Canadian fur trade did and how they lived is preserved in the thousands of documents left behind by Company officers, clerks, explorers, and first missionaries. It was occasionally captured in paintings by frontier artists such as Paul Kane.
But fur trade history is also preserved in the remains of many fur trade forts constructed across Canada as it expanded westward in search of new fur-rich lands. Often those fur trade forts left behind a rich archaeological record.
Alberta is no exception. In fact, the then AthapuskowCountry in today’s northern Alberta, was among the richest fur districts in North America. When American fur trader Peter Pond first discovered it in 1778, he acquired so many furs that he had to cache some because he couldn’t take them all back to Montreal.
I am often asked, how many fur trade establishments were there in Alberta? According to our Alberta inventories, that number is over 300. We are probably missing a few forts that were never recorded in the sometimes ‘sketchy’ historic documents. And as Alexander Ross’s description of Fort Assiniboine suggests, some of these places hardly deserved the name ‘fort’.
“…a petty post erected on the north bank of the river, and so completely embosomed in the woods, that we did not catch a glimpse of it until we were among huts, and surrounded by howling dogs and screeching children. At this sylvan retreat there were but three rude houses….and there was not a picket or palisade to guard them from either savage or bear. This mean abode was dignified with the name of fort.” (HBC Fort Assiniboine, 1825, described by Alexander Ross)
Many of these forts have not been found. Often their locations were poorly documented. The physical evidence they left behind is difficult to see in the dense bush when traipsing through Alberta’s densely forested river valleys.
In the dense bush of the Peace River floodplain, there are only a few hints suggesting a fur trade post once existed there – mounds representing collapsed building fireplaces and depressions representing cellars or some other type of pit. Occasionally faint depressions marking the ditches dug to place in the palisade pickets for the fort walls, still appear on the surface of the ground.
But even these features are often hard to see. Despite having found the Boyer River fort site thirty years earlier, it took over an hour to relocate a few depressions and mounds in the dense undergrowth of the Peace River floodplain.
The fur trade documentary record leaves many things to be desired. It is often a biased, one-sided description of the trade and the more important members operating in it. Company workers and Indigenous people have little or no voice in those documents.
Despite being an incomplete testimony of human history, the archaeological remains we find reflect not only the lives of a literate few but also those of the many Company servants and Indigenous peoples living at the posts who left no written record behind. Their lives are reflected in the dwellings they lived in, the possessions they made or bought, and the food they ate.
Fur trade society was stratified, primarily by one’s occupation, ethnicity, and gender. The fur trade archaeological and documentary records reveal that those individuals in the highest positions had access to the best resources. Officers’ quarters were bigger, and better constructed than those of the servants 4.
“…while the exterior is fair enough with its winter porch, protected doors, the inside was somewhat of a maze and more like a rabbit warren is supposed to be, both in excess of occupants…” (George Simpson McTavish describing the servants’ quarters at an inland fort)
The schematic drawing of the buildings at the North West Company Fort George (c.1792 – 1800) is a case in point. This drawing was completed primarily from archaeological remains since no map of the fort existed. The men’s quarters on the left housed the Company workers and their families, sometimes holding up to 10 – 12 people in tiny, confined single rooms. These dwellings were dwarfed by Chief Trader, Angus Shaw’s two-storey Big House, where he and his family resided.
The personal possessions of the Fort population inform us about their gender, beliefs, and cultural affiliations. For example, early in the fur trade when metals were new to Indigenous people, old, leaky copper pots and larger pieces of silver were repurposed and made into jewelry.
Copper and silver tinkling cones and tags, likely made by the Indigenous wives of Company men, were highly prized objects often replacing or incorporated with traditional shell and bone adornment. They also remind us of the importance of women in the trade and everyday operation of the forts.
The inequality existing among fur trade ranks is also reflected in their diet. During the early years of the western fur trade, wild game made up most of the food fort personnel ate. Often our fur trade posts contain an abundant, rich array of faunal remains.
Those animal bones, along with the surviving documents, show the large quantities of meat eaten by fort personnel. Meat and fat were rationed differently, depending on employees’ rank and position at the fort. Officers and their families often had more and better cuts of meat and were given more of the highly prized fat.
“…we have finished a Glaciere containing 500 thighs & shoulders for the consumption of April & May…” (Clerk, Duncan McGillivray, Fort George, 1794-95, describing the amount of meat required to feed the fort inhabitants.)
That amount of meat, representing 500 animals (likely bison), consumed over approximately sixty-one days, averages out to about most of eight bison a day required to feed the 160 hungry mouths at Fort George.
Category
Fresh Meat
Dried Meat
Pounded Meat
Grease
Officers Mess(2 persons)
2250 lbs
57 lbs
57 lbs
105 lbs
Officers Families (6 adults)
4283
159
6
108
Engages (8 persons)
7752
576
576
18
Engages Families (3 adults)
2612
148
148
4
Meat rations at Fort Vermilion II, 1832-33. While the Engages and their families are getting less fresh, dried, and pounded meat than the officers, they received far less fat per individual than the Officers and their families. 6
Despite the Northwest’s seemingly endless supply of resources, the fur trade’s impact on game animal populations soon showed, often in ugly ways.
“…we learn from Mr. McTavish that they are in a starving condition at Lac Verd, there being forced to pick up the fish Bones which they threw out last fall to prolong their miserable existence.” (Journal of Duncan McGillivray, 1794-95)
Alberta’s fur trade era, and that of the rest of Canada, has left a rich and varied historic footprint. It represents not only how an elite, literate portion of the population of the fur trade lived, but also how the rest of the many employees, representing a diverse number of ethnic groups, fared. While considered a darker side of Canadian colonialism, it nevertheless is part of Canadian history and cannot be ignored.
Pyszczyk, Heinz. 1992. The Architecture of the Western Canadian Fur Trade: A Cultural-Historical Perspective. Society for the Study of Architecture in Canada, Bulletin 17(2):32-41[↩]
D from Kate Duncan. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Beadwork. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas and McIntyre, Vancouver.[↩]
Note: This is a revised and condensed version of an article we recently published in the Saskatchewan Archaeological Newsletter Quarterly, May, 2021 edition, regarding our search for the the Chesterfield House fur trade sites in Spring, 2021. Readers are referred to this edition of the Quarterly for a more detailed version of our findings.
Time and the Unknown
Ah, the mystery of the unknown! It’s one of the things that first drew me to history and archaeology. The thrill of discovering new facts, objects or places, lost or abandoned centuries ago. It didn’t matter if they were only minor footnotes in the bigger picture of human history.
One of the most rewarding and challenging experiences in my career was searching for the many lost fur trade posts in western Canada. The remains of some lay hidden in front of our very noses. Others, so remote and covered by nature, it took considerable effort or sensitive equipment to eventually find them. Still others guard their hiding places well, and to this day, elude discovery.
This is a story about a search for one of those fur trade post that has eluded us for many years – Chesterfield House. A search that began in the mid-1960s. But for me it began in c.2005 and continues to this day. Because no one has yet found Chesterfield House.
Searching for Canada’s Fur Trade Forts
In an earlier blog I talked about explorer and mapmaker David Thompson. One of the world’s most remarkable geographers and mapmakers. Thompson visited many western fur trade forts and wrote about them or mapped them. Often he left behind clues for us relocate them. Such as the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c1798-1830) site in northern Alberta. (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=1894&action=edit)
In this post I focus on another lesser-known but equally competent trader, surveyor and mapmaker, Peter Fidler of the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC). And in particular, his brief, and sometimes scary stay in southern Saskatchewan at the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers where he would build his fort.
In the fall of 1800 Fidler built Chesterfield House for the HBC. Soon after the North West Company (NWC) built alongside the HBC post, followed by the XY Company. Many (including me) have searched for them but, to this day, they have never been found.
Peter Fidler
Born at Bolsover, Derbyshire, England, Peter Fidler (16 August 1769 – 17 December 1822) joined the HBC in 1788. He was trained in surveying and astronomy by Philip Turnor who also trained David Thompson. Fidler became the Company’s chief surveyor and map-maker, much like David Thompson for the NWC.
While acting as trader, explorer, and mapmaker, Fidler also observed and wrote about the Indigenous peoples of the region. He married a Cree woman and learned Native languages to carry out the trade. Occasionally he convinced his Native informants to draw maps of their territories for him. Today these are some of the few surviving Native maps of western Canada (see a former post on the Ki-oo-cus map of southern and central Alberta. (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=266&action=edit). His journeys, largely undertaken in western Canada, covered an estimated 48,000 miles on horseback, foot, canoe and dog team.
Fidler’s superiors admired his toughness and fortitude. For example, while traveling and wintering with the Chipewyan in northern Alberta and the NWT, a near-starving Fidler mentioned what parts of a game animal they ate to stay alive: “We eat everything except the manure.”
Fidler had some incredible adventures as a trader and explorer for the HBC. A few could have ended his life. One of these adventures required constructing a fur trade post on the Western Canadian prairies. He built the fort with the intent of trading with Plains First Nations peoples. After only a few years, Fidler and the other Companies abandoned their forts, barely escaping with their lives.
Where did the Companies Build?
For many years I heard about the mysterious Chesterfield House(s) and attempts to find them. All searches ended in failure. But why? How could three forts of considerable size, just disappear, without a trace, in the valleys of the Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers? Or perhaps, as some researchers suggested, had those waters already swallowed them up leaving no trace behind?
In 2005, while visiting and hunting in the area, and intrigued with the lost Chesterfield House, I too joined the search.
As with other similar searches, nothing is ever as simple as it first appears. This quest was no exception. It has taken me since 2005 to finally piece enough evidence together to make the modest claim that I might have a candidate where these fur trade forts were built. And I, like others before me, could be totally wrong.
Let’s start our search with Fidler’s Chesterfield House HBC journals (1800 – 1802). In them he gives only a few but very specific references to the fort’s location.
Fidler gives the latitude of the south bank of the Red Deer River where he intends to build: 50o, 55’, 5” (50.9222o). Fidler’s latitude calculations were quite accurate. Longitude was not. But, if we take Fidler at his word, we really don’t need longitude because Fidler gives us a fairly precise east-west reference point where he built the fort – the confluence of the two rivers.
While rereading Fidler’s published journals (for the umpteenth time) this spring, I noticed at the end of the 1800-01 trading season a note by the editor: “[Meteorological and Astronomical Observations, made at Chesterfield House, covering 15 manuscript pages, not printed]” (From Alice Johnson 1967:268. Saskatchewan Journals and Correspondence 1795 – 1802. The Hudson’s Bay Record Society, Volume XXVI). I wondered if Fidler gave a more accurate reading of latitude and longitude for Chesterfield House in those unpublished notes. Fortunately I was able to get hold of a copy of his original journal, including the missing 15 pages.
Yes, indeed. Fidler gives two readings for latitude at Chesterfield House: 1) 50o55’12” (50.920o); and, 2) 50o55’21’’ (50.9225o). Both readings are relatively similar to his original north riverbank reading recorded at the confluence of the two rivers where initially he wanted to build. Had they been significantly different then it might suggest he built elsewhere (than right at the confluence).
Next I looked at a few historic maps of the area. One map shows the location of Chesterfield House, marked by a dot, on the north side of the South Saskatchewan River, some distance downriver from the forks. But Fidler stated, “…opposite the mouth of the Red Deers River where we are to build…”
Then I found another map drawn by both Fidler and his Blackfoot informant, Ak ko Wee ak in 1802. Does the straight line across the Red Deer River, with Chesterfield House’ written on it, indicate where the fort was built? If so, it was built upriver from the confluence of the two rivers.
Unfortunately no one, while searching for the forts, has taken the Native maps or Fidler’s latitude reading of the forts location very seriously. Keep in mind, Fidler was a very accurate surveyor for his day, especially when it came to calculating latitude. His readings were out by about 15 seconds of latitude, or +/- 450 metres.
If we ran his latitude for Chesterfield House as a straight straight line across a current map, assuming about 15 seconds (~450m) of error (shown by orange dashed lines on either side of the black line), where might the fort(s) be located?
Another little hint, where the Chesterfield forts might have been built, was a comment in Peter Fidler’s journals. “Dug up the small bateau that was laid up in the spring: the heavy rise of water in the summer had buried it four feet deep in sand.” (From Alice Johnson 1967:268. Saskatchewan Journals and Correspondence 1795 – 1802. The Hudson’s Bay Record Society, Volume XXVI). Presumably the boat was near the fort. If so, it suggests the fort was located on an inside meander of the river, where flood sediments are deposited. Instead of the outside meander where high water cuts away the bank.
We haven’t looked for these forts at all the possible places that are within Fidler’s range of error for latitude. And there are reasons for it. This is large area filled with dense wolf willow scrub and wild rose bushes that is not too pleasant to walk through, or find things. And Fidler’s reference to the forts being built at the forks of the rivers has perhaps been taken too literally. Would the London Committee reading his journals really care if he built a mile or two either way of the forks?
To add yet another obstacle to our search, not everything historical in this area is related to the early 19th century fur trade. This area was occupied and traveled over for thousands of years by First Nations Peoples. It became an important Metis settlement, Riviere La Biche, in the 1870s and 1880s, which would have left physical remains similar to those present at earlier fur trade forts.
The Search Continues, Spring 2021
This spring (2021), when preparing this blog, I wanted a good satellite image of the forks area where Chesterfield House might be located. While doing so I noticed a long rectangle-shaped, light-colored outline on the satellite image.
After reviewing the historic documents, satellite images, and constructing arguments that this might be the lost Chesterfield House forts, the next step was to re-revisit the site and look for physical clues on the ground.
So, my wife, Gabriella Prager, also an archaeologist, and I drove to the Empress area in April to see what we could see. When I visited this same location in 2005, I saw some rock scatters and slight depressions. It was time to reevaluate what those features might be, relative to this new-found evidence.
Once there, we looked for depressions, pits, rocks or mounds or any other evidence that could indicate a human occupation. The surface of this area is quite undulating and uneven from repeated flooding and scouring over the years. Just how much sediment covers the original 1800 ground surface is uncertain without excavating. However, based on other floodplains of this vintage (e.g., the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I site, northern Alberta), there could be as much as one-half metre or more sediments covering the original land surface and the remains of anything built on that surface. Fidler’s description of the bateau buried in over four feet of river sediments is most telling in this regard. And that was just one of many flooding events since then.
When walking the area we noticed the ground was slightly elevated on the east and south sides. These elevated areas were likely responsible for the light-colored lines we saw on the satellite image. Normally, old stockade lines are slightly depressed, even after flooding. We did however also notice a few rock scatters and slight depressions with the rectangular outline.
What We Concluded
It would be folly to state, without first excavating and testing this area, that we have discovered the Chesterfield House sites. We first need to find certain kinds of other archaeological evidence to suggest that these features, and that intriguing rectangular satellite image, are related to the early 19th century fur trade, and not some later period Metis household: 1) footer trenches representing palisades; 2) early 19th century artifacts representing the time period in question; 3) more building remains confined to the rectangle; and, 4) considerable amounts of animal bone from both human consumption of wild game and making meat provisions for the trip downriver.
There are things about this site that are troubling and do not fit what I expect to see on the surface of the ground; if this were a historic fur trade fort. First is the lack of more obvious visible surface features such as chimney piles and cellar depressions. Second, is the lack of visible faunal debris, or any artifacts. Given the amount of meat consumed, animal bone remains are typically considerable at forts such as this.
To some degree, this lack of evidence might be explained by the amount of flooding that has occurred in the area. If substantial, it may have covered any historic remains with considerable sediments and infilling most depressions that would be cellars, privies, and refuse pits. However, at other fur trade sites abandoned for over 200 years and constantly flooded, we have observed more pronounced surface features than we see here. However, currently we know little about flooding episodes and depositional rate of sediments of the Red Deer River, which could be quite different from our northern rivers.
To be clear, without further investigations, what we (and others) have found is definite proof of a human occupation of some sort at this spot. Based on the historic evidence regarding Chesterfield House, this location is a suitable candidate for these early NWC, HBC and XY Company forts. But, that’s as far as we can go presently. The area warrants further archaeological investigations to either refute or verify our claim.
EndNote
For those of who you who are aspiring students of history or archaeology, there’s a simple lesson here. Combining the evidence from two disciplines (history and archaeology) usually results in a more complete understating of human history. Not always, but better two independent lines of evidence to examine a problem of history, than only one. And perhaps, with the new remote sensing imagery, more than only two disciplines is necessary to eventually find these rather elusive historic forts.
Tobacco was an integral part of the Canadian fur trade. It was smoked, chewed and snuffed. It was traded and gifted to Indigenous peoples, and consumed by both men and women. One of the most common ways of smoking tobacco was with a clay tobacco pipe. However, not all pipes were made of clay. This is a story of one of the most interesting and unusual types of tobacco pipes I have run across – a stone tobacco pipe.
Clay Tobacco Pipes
Whenever we excavate at the inland fur trade posts in Canada, one of the most common artifacts we recover are clay tobacco pipe fragments. These pipes are the remnants of smoking activities at these posts. They come in a variety of shapes and sizes. At the end of the 18th century the stem on some of these pipes, known as Churchwardens, was nearly three feet long. Only the upper classes smoked them while the laborers smoked the shorter stemmed cuttie.
Many of the 18th and 19th century clay tobacco pipes shipped to the inland posts, were made in Europe. The Hudson’s Bay Company imported most of their pipes from England. Many of the pipe bowls and stems were stamped sometimes with the maker’s name or initials. It wasn’t until the latter half of the 19th century that a Canadian clay pipe industry took hold in eastern Canada. Bannerman of Montreal clay pipes were shipped to the Alberta fur trade posts.
The Somewhat Puzzling History of Western Canadian Stone Tobacco Pipes
But not all pipes were made of clay. When we excavated the North West Company Fort George (c.1792-1800) site in east-central Alberta we found platform (a type) tobacco pipes made from soapstone, pipestone or local mudstone. They were found in domestic household refuse along with many other common fur trade artifacts (beads, buttons, etc.). These pipes are poorly documented.
We often speculated who made and smoked these pipes. They certainly were not European. Or, so we initially thought. And, what were they doing in Alberta, Canada?
Initially we thought these pipes were made by local Indigenous men or women working at the western Canadian fur trade forts. But there is no record of this kind of pipe being used prior to White contact in Alberta. Only recently I realized that these pipes were similar to Iroquois platform pipes. Iroquois? In Alberta? Well, yes. The Northwest Company brought Iroquois hunters out west to trap furs in the late 18th – early 19th centuries. (The community of ‘Calahoo’, Alberta is named after an Alberta Iroquoian family.)
I thought at this point at least we now knew the possible origins of this pipe style. Quite possibly brought west by the Iroquois hunters who lived at the forts. But then, after seeing the image below, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
The North West Company hired many French Canadians to work at their inland western Canadian posts. These men made up the famous canoe brigades and worked mostly as laborers at the posts when not paddling. So, it is entirely possible that they brought their stone pipes with them, or fashioned them out of local material at the forts.
We found similar stone pipe fragments at the remote northern Alberta fur trade posts, such as Fort Vermilion, Peace River region. But the peculiar markings on these pipes add a bit of a twist to the story.
Over the years I have noticed artifacts with similar circle-and-dot markings on them in other western Canadian fur trade assemblages. The circle-and-dot motif is an Athabaskan symbol that has a geographical distribution ranging from central Alberta to northwestern Alaska. Was this tobacco pipe style adopted by Athabaskan-speaking people who then put their markings on it? Quite possibly. Interestingly, in Alberta the style seems to disappear by the 1840s.
A Few Final Thoughts
Occasionally archaeologists recover artifacts from a documented period of Canadian history whose origins and uses are puzzling. Not all material culture is well documented. Especially when it belongs to people who aren’t doing any of the documenting. These objects were likely made and used by Indigenous people and/or French Canadian voyageurs (who were mostly illiterate) – a people without a written history. In the case of the stone tobacco pipes, careful dating and geographic location are extremely important to figure out their possible origins and uses.
References
Daviau, Marie-Helen. 2008. La Pipe de pierre dans la societe conadienne des XVII et XIX siecles. Centre interuniversitaire d’etudes sur les letters, les arts et les traditions (CELAT), Quebec.
Heinz W. Pyszczyk. 2015. The Last Fort Standing: Fort Vermilion and the Peace River Fur Trade, 1798-1830. Occasional Papers of the Archaeological Society of Alberta. Number 14.
Note: In my next post, I’ll tell you about another unusual tobacco pipe in the fur trade. However, before I reveal more about this artifact, I will write a short story about it first.