Notes of a Twenty-Five Years' Service in the Hudson's Bay Territory. Volume II

In Short

This second volume of John McLean’s memoirs chronicles his later years as an officer for the Hudson's Bay Company, detailing perilous journeys across Labrador, northern Canada, and the Rocky Mountains. Writing from first-hand experience, McLean documents harsh arctic explorations, interactions with indigenous Nascopie and Esquimaux populations, and the brutal realities of the fur trade. The text endures as a scathing, highly detailed critique of corporate monopoly and misrule in nineteenth-century North America, combining vivid travelogue, natural history, and political indictment into a starkly authentic historical document.

The Story

McLean’s account opens with treacherous journeys through the subarctic regions, beginning with a perilous voyage into the Ungava territory. Guiding ships through pitch-black waters, unknown river channels, and sudden, bone-crushing ice fields, he establishes remote posts despite immense environmental hazards and the constant threat of starvation. Survival relies on harrowing winter hunts, where entire herds of wild reindeer are trapped and slaughtered to feed the company’s scattered outposts. McLean undertakes grueling overland expeditions across frozen wilderness, such as crossing Lake Michigama, where missing guides, harsh terrain, and rapidly depleting rations repeatedly bring his parties to the brink of disaster.

Throughout these pursuits, McLean seeks to expand trading routes and navigate the mighty rivers of Labrador and the Canadian Northwest, eventually coming upon immense natural wonders like a stupendous cataract on the Hamilton River. Yet every physical triumph is shadowed by corporate neglect. When instructions arrive from Governor George Simpson, McLean is ordered to cut off overland communication between posts purely to save money, stranding officers and native populations without adequate supplies or news for years at a time. Forced to abandon the unprofitable Ungava settlement, McLean is continually reassurred of his own advancement, only to face systemic corporate betrayal.

Upon returning from a visit to Britain and embarking on a long expedition to the far western districts along the Mackenzie and Athabasca rivers, McLean learns he has been arbitrarily stripped of his expected command. This indignity highlights a broader pattern of favoritism that favors European elites while marginalizing Canadian-born clerks and long-serving field officers.

Driven by this injustice, McLean expands his focus beyond his personal grievances. He offers sweeping ethnographic observations on the region's inhabitants, detailing the distinct languages, snow-house architecture, and hunting innovations of the Esquimaux, while decrying the unprovoked rivalries between them and the inland Nascopies. He documents the ecological strains on game populations, the devastating impact of European rivalry, and the tragic consequences of sectarian religious conflicts introduced by competing Catholic and Protestant missionaries.

In his final pages, McLean delivers a fierce condemnation of the Hudson's Bay Company and its governor, Sir George Simpson. He lays bare the violent historical legacy of the fur trade—including the bloody Seven Oaks collision between rival companies—and argues that the Company's monopoly crushes both its workers and the native tribes. He ends with an impassioned plea to the British government to abolish the corporate charter, establish civil rule, and rescue the Indigenous populations from systemic exploitation.

How It Unfolds

Traversing the northern ice Navigating treacherous coastal waters and uncharted river mouths, McLean's party narrowly escapes destruction off Akpatok Island. They dodge sunken rocks and sudden gales to establish isolated outposts in the barren Ungava region.

Starvation on the frozen lakes During a mid-winter expedition across Lake Michigama, food supplies run dangerously low, forcing the men to transfer dog loads onto their own sleds. Indigenous guides refuse to take longer routes due to the certainty of starvation, leaving geographical ambitions unfulfilled.

The grand caribou hunt Facing winter famine, McLean constructs massive log fences to entrap migrating herds of reindeer. Over three hundred animals are slaughtered in a single afternoon, securing the provisions necessary to sustain the surrounding posts.

Betrayal by corporate decree Orders arrive from Governor Simpson instructing the post to cease overland communications to cut costs, leaving the men isolated for two years at a time. Disgusted by this callous economy, McLean recommends abandoning the Ungava station altogether.

Voyage to the Far Northwest After returning from a brief respite in England, McLean travels up the great rivers toward the Mackenzie District. He travels alongside scientific observers and military officers, noting the changing landscapes and the rising influence of rival religious missions.

The final insult At Portage La Loche, McLean receives official despatches revealing he has been passed over for the leadership of the Mackenzie River District. Realizing his decades of meritorious service count for nothing under Simpson’s arbitrary rule, his trust in the Company breaks completely.

An indictment of monopoly McLean shifts from personal history to political manifesto, detailing the violent history of fur-trade rivalries and the destruction of native life. He closes with a direct plea to the British parliament to revoke the Company's charter and establish humane civil authority.

The People

• John McLean: The author and veteran Hudson’s Bay Company officer. Determined, resourceful, and proud, he seeks professional advancement and logistical success in extreme environments, only to end up disillusioned and fiercely vocal against corporate exploitation.
• Sir George Simpson: The Governor of the Hudson's Bay Company territory. A cold, highly competent administrator with "all the craft and subtlety of an intriguing courtier," he seeks absolute efficiency and corporate control, acting as the primary obstacle to McLean's career and the well-being of the field staff.
• Mr. Erlandson: A fellow company officer who shares the hardships of the northern posts. He endures extreme isolation and perilous canoe travels alongside McLean as they attempt to execute impossible corporate mandates.
• Mr. R. Campbell: An intrepid explorer employed by the Company who pushes west of the Rocky Mountains. Driven by a desire to discover new trade routes, he navigates unknown rivers and confronts hostile conditions before his crew refuses to proceed further.
• Lieutenant Lefroy: A British Artillery officer conducting a scientific expedition through the Northwest. Affable and highly esteemed, his presence offers McLean a brief, intellectual respite from the harsh realities of the fur trade.

In Its Own Voice

"The vessel struck violently on a sunken rock, and heeled over so much that she was nearly thrown on her beam-ends."

This sudden accident in the dark waters of the Ungava River illustrates the constant, life-threatening hazards confronting arctic traders.

"Thus were we consigned to our fate for a period of two years with as little feeling as if we had been so many cattle..."

McLean expresses his bitter outrage after receiving Governor Simpson’s orders cutting off their contact with the outside world purely to reduce expenses.

"Considering these things, no reasonable person can surely find fault with us for preferring those who allow us to put what construction we please on the moral law..."

With biting irony, McLean explains why practical fur traders often favored accommodating Catholic priests over strict Protestant ministers who condemned Sunday labor.

What It's Really About

Beneath its rugged adventure narrative, the book is an uncompromising exposure of unbridled corporate power. It examines how a commercial monopoly, operating without legal oversight or moral accountability, inevitably degrades human dignity—both that of its labor force and the Indigenous populations whose lands it exploits. McLean contrasts the lived reality of wilderness survival with the cold, ledger-driven calculations of corporate directors in London.

The work also wrestles with deep questions of cultural contact, documenting the tragic displacement of Native peoples caught between commercial rivalries and European religious factions. Ultimately, it is a testament to human resilience set against a backdrop of systemic injustice, demanding that civil governance and moral responsibility replace ruthless commercial greed.

Why Read It Today

This memoir offers a vivid, unfiltered antidote to romanticized wilderness narratives. Readers who enjoy raw historical accounts, northern exploration, or deep dives into colonial history will appreciate McLean's crisp, straightforward prose and sharp observational eye. The text moves seamlessly from harrowing survival logistics to detailed natural history and sharp political critique.

It is worth noting that modern readers will encounter period attitudes and paternalistic language typical of nineteenth-century European travelers regarding Indigenous populations. However, McLean’s perspective is remarkably sympathetic for his era; he consistently defends Native rights, celebrates their technical ingenuity—such as Esquimaux kayak design and hunting tools—and directly blames European monopolists for their suffering.

The book's remarkable strength lies in its unyielding honesty. It captures the vast, intimidating scale of the Canadian wilderness while giving a clear, unvarnished voice to the men who risked their lives within it, leaving behind a crucial document of North American history.