The 1670 royal charter signed by King Charles II is a founding document of Canada and should rightly be sold in an open auction process.HO/The Canadian Press
The creation of the royal charter for the Hudson’s Bay Company four centuries ago was a cozy little affair despite its far-ranging consequences. King Charles II granted the new company wide-ranging powers in 1670 over a third of modern-day Canada, including parts of what is now northern Quebec, Ontario, Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Nunavut.
The Hudson’s Bay Company would be much more than a corporation in the following 200 years. It would exercise judicial powers in what would come to be called Rupert’s Land and was granted the rights to set up armed forces and to conduct diplomacy.
And who was deemed fit for this royal largesse? None other than the king’s first cousin, Prince Rupert of the Rhine (not only the first governor, but the Rupert in Rupert’s Land).
History has a habit of echoing itself, and so it goes for the sale of the original copy of the HBC charter, a founding document of Canada, as part of the winding up of the Hudson’s Bay retail chain. What should have been an open auction process – and what would have been a chance to generate both cash for creditors and awareness about this country’s history – has instead descended into an unseemly backroom deal.
Manitoba Museum CEO glad Bay charter found a home: ‘We didn’t have the means’
Wittington Investments Ltd., the holding company of the Weston Family, has struck a $12.5-million agreement to acquire the charter and then donate it to the Canadian Museum of History in Ottawa, along with another $1-million to pay for consultation with Indigenous peoples. That agreement short-circuited an expected auction for the charter.
It’s a question of value, and of values. First, the value. A court filing from Hudson’s Bay asserts that the $12.5-million offer is “substantially” more than the 2022 appraised value of the charter. But how much higher might the purchase price have risen if other bidders had been allowed to compete?
In presenting Wittington’s offer on June 18, managing director of strategy Ryan Markle wrote that his firm believed that an auction was not appropriate, adding: “There can be no assurance that this offer will remain available if Wittington is not comfortable with the process to be followed in respect of the Charter.”
It is reasonable to conclude that Wittington did not want to see the price rise in a public auction. That’s desirable from the point of view of Wittington – far less so for creditors, who would want the highest sales price possible. The arrangement is subject to court review, so it will be up to a judge to determine whether the Wittington offer represents full value for the charter.
What a court cannot speak on, however, is the question of values. Four centuries ago, Indigenous peoples had no voice (to understate the matter) in the Crown’s decision to give the Hudson’s Bay Company authority over lands that they had occupied for centuries. There is scant recognition of their existence in the document, just scattered mentions of peoples “that are not Christians.” It was merely assumed that Indigenous peoples would follow whatever disposition the Crown made.
There are unfortunate echoes today of that paternalistic attitude. It’s true that the Wittington offer includes funding for a process to consult with Indigenous communities. But that consultation comes after, not before, a deal was struck.
Unsurprisingly, Kyra Wilson, Grand Chief of the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs, questioned that lack of consultation, given the sorry history that resulted for Indigenous peoples from the colonization spurred by the Hudson’s Bay Company. (Chief Wilson also said the deal itself is a “beautiful gesture.”)
More broadly, the closed-door dealing to sell the charter undermines what could be a stellar moment to make a statement about modern Canada. Much – too much – of the early chapters of Canada’s history were the result of decisions made behind closed doors without reference to anyone else.
Symbols matter, as the charter itself proves. The manner in which it finds its way to a museum is also a symbol: ideally, one of transparency and of the power of competition.
A court might end up ordering an auction. A far better path would be for the Westons to withdraw their offer and to announce that they look forward to vigorous bidding in a sale this fall. Canada would be the better for it.