First Furrows: A History of the Early Settlement of the Red River Country, including that of Portage la Prairie

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PREFACE

The writer who for a third of a century travelled over this country by Red River cart and dug-out, and fared sumptuously on buffalo, pemmican and other foodstuffs of that period, has often since then noticed misleading statements about those early days; and the writing of this history is undertaken because the writer is aware that he can deal with many facts from personal experience where others have had to trust largely to hearsay. This has led me to make a careful comparison of the many histories of this country, already written, and where accounts conflict, has generally enabled me to decide which was correct, or at least most in consonance with well-known facts.

To these ably written histories the writer cheerfully acknowledges his indebtedness, and if this history approaches the high level of theirs, I shall have reason to be amply satisfied.

Very sincere thanks are also due to the clergymen and others whose written contributions appear in this work, as well as to the many other good friends, who by word or letter, so obligingly answered my many questions.

After the writer had decided on “First Furrows” as the title of this work, he dipped the pen, poised it over the unwritten page and awaited further inspiration. It came. The front door flew open and an excited young lady shouted in the words—“The War is over.” The shouted intelligence, of course, referred to the “World War,” commenced August 4th, 1914, and ended November 11th, 1918, and the announcement blended well with above title which is intended as a compliment to Archdeacon Cochrane, the founder of St. Mary’s Church, with whom the plough—fitting emblem of the peaceful arts of husbandry—was an effective civilizing agency, so that the first furrow in many an earthly field led up to the first furrows in the sphere of spiritual living, resulting in the temporal and spiritual betterment of the people among whom he laboured. His life’s work will ever be remembered as having been a great blessing to the people of this country.

It is not easy to say when or from whom Portage la Prairie received its expressive name, but probably it was before the days of Verandrye, and possibly it was Radisson and Groseillers who named it.

These two noted French traders formed a partnership in 1658, which lasted till 1683, and on the retirement of Groseillers, Radisson kept on till 1690, making during the last five years an annual voyage to Hudson’s Bay in the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company.

Partly owing to unfair treatment, both from Old and New France, and partly owing to war between England and France, kept up intermittently and with varying fortune during a considerable portion of the foregoing period, those Frenchmen contracted the unfortunate habit of trading sometimes under the patronage of the one country, and at other times under that of the other, an unprofitable policy, as it turned out, and not to be excused, although it must be admitted there was great provocation at the time of its inception in the treatment received from the French in 1662. In that year the trade was remarkably good. They loaded three hundred canoes with furs, which, on their arrival at Quebec, were valued at $300,000. Yet so meanly were they treated that, by the time Governor D’Argensen got through with them, they had less than $20,000 left for themselves.

As to the territory visited by these traders when they made this phenomenal trade, writers are at variance; some French historians claiming that they not only visited Lake Winnipeg, but continued northward via Nelson River until they reached Hudson’s Bay, incidentally stating that their canoes were manned by Assiniboines. Other writers contend that the body of water which they discovered was not Hudson’s Bay, but Lake Winnipeg, and that they did their big trade with the tribes living in its vicinity and further West. The present writer takes no side in the dispute, and would remark that if Radisson and Groseillers did not visit Hudson’s Bay they had more time to visit Portage la Prairie. If, on the other hand, they did discover Hudson’s Bay, and their canoes as stated were manned by Assiniboines, we are thus furnished with strong presumptive evidence that they must have traded in the country of the Assiniboines, to do which they would have had to travel up the Assiniboine River, most likely as far West as Portage la Prairie, as it was the favourite rendezvous of those Indians in the time of Verandrye.

After this careful balancing of probabilities as to Radisson and Groseillers having ever visited Portage la Prairie—a matter at this date of little importance to those gentlemen or the City of Portage la Prairie—it must be mentioned to the credit of those celebrated Frenchmen, that but for their enterprising spirit and cosmopolitan character, Great Britain’s possession in this northern portion of the continent might have remained undeveloped for many years longer; for it was the knowledge of its resources that those men had gained by adventurous trade and travel, and which they communicated to men of kindred spirit in England, including that Prince of Adventurers, Prince Rupert, that paved the way to the formation in the year 1670, of the world-renowned chartered monopoly, known as the Honourable Hudson’s Bay Company, of which corporation it may safely be said that it, in turn, paved the way to the present civilization.

When the activities of Radisson and Groseillers came to an end in 1690, it was not till about forty years afterwards that anyone else showed a like ambition to penetrate as they had the remote regions of New France stretching away to the North and Northwest, and then, thirty-two years before Canada was irretrievably lost to France, in 1763, another celebrated Frenchman came to the front in the person of Sieur Gautier Verennes de la Verandrye, whose exploits both as trader and explorer quite equalled those of Radisson and Groseillers. Verandrye’s great ambition was to discover an overland route to the Pacific Ocean.

His first step in this direction was taken on the 8th June, 1771, when with a party of fifty men, composed of voyageurs, interpreters, a few soldiers and his three sons, aged respectively eighteen, seventeen and sixteen, he embarked in four large birch bark canoes, and struck towards the Northwest on his voyage of discovery.

With the exception of good wishes and advice he got no assistance from France, for like other European nations her attention at the time was engrossed with war, and she had neither money nor men to spare. He was, however, not only given a free hand to trade wherever any other Frenchman had traded, but further, was granted a monopoly in all new countries that he might discover. In this way he was supposed to pay his own way to the Western sea, and in any case, re-imburse himself for the cost of exploration, a truly economical arrangement for France, but a rather precarious means of support for Verandrye and his family, while engaged in an undertaking of such national importance, particularly when one considers the scalping propensities of the Indian tribes whose acquaintance he had already made, and that he was liable to fall in with others further West, who might be even more ferocious; and that he had no hint as to the distance of the Western sea, or of the physical obstructions to be encountered on the way thither.

In his first year, 1731, he went as far West as Rainy River where he built a fort which he named St. Pierre. In 1732 he built a fort at the Lake of the Woods which he named St. Charles. In 1733 he descended the Winnipeg River, and in the year following built Fort Maurepas, on the shore of Lake Winnipeg, at the mouth of the Winnipeg River; and near where Fort Alexander now stands. At these places he came in contact mostly with Crees and Ojibeways, some of whom knew the French by reputation, some from actual contact.

For the next four years, being still unable to get any assistance from the French Government, he devoted his attention to the requirements of the fur trade in such territory as was easy of access from the forts which he had established; but in 1738 he resolved to hold himself in check no longer, and struck out for the West in quest of the great sea lying somewhere in that direction.

The nearest approach to definite information that he had about this sea, was what he had obtained from the Indian named Ochagach, who could only tell him that its waters rose and fell and were too salt to drink, stating that he had been told this by Indians who lived somewhere in the West, and who, he doubted not, would be able to tell Verandrye all about it, and in fact, guide him thither. So on September 22nd, 1738, he loaded a number of canoes with supplies and struck out westward from Fort Maurepas. In two days he had skirted the South-east shore of Lake Winnipeg, entered the mouth of the Red River, and paddled up stream to where Winnipeg now stands.

For all that history or tradition can tell us as to how the natives regarded that particular locality where the Red and Assiniboine Rivers united it may have been a sort of no-man’s-land, a place not to be desired for anything in particular, and noticed chiefly en passant, by the way-faring man as he made his way by land or by water to some more desirable locality: at any rate Verandrye’s actions are not at variance with such a theory. After over a year had elapsed since the building of a fort at the Lake of the Woods he went westward seeking another suitable site for a fort, and evidently the mouth of the Winnipeg River spoke better things to him than the mouth of the Assiniboine, and he gave the preference to the former. Then after four years in which he became acquainted with the best centres of trade, and he decided to build another fort still further West, seemingly he regarded the confluence of the Red and Assiniboine Rivers as a place of secondary importance, and so he gave Winnipeg the go-bye, and passed up the Assiniboine, going fifty miles further west till he reached Portage la Prairie.

Due to an after-thought of Mr. de la Marque, one of Verandrye’s lieutenants, who with eight men joined him at Portage la Prairie shortly after his arrival, an official in charge of two or three men was sent back to the junction of the Rivers to build a small fort. It was named Fort Rouge after the Red River, while the one built at Portage la Prairie was called Fort de la Reine after the Queen of France. Little Fort Rouge soon died a natural death. It was abandoned because the Crees traded either at Mauripas, or if they went elsewhere, preferred to go straight to the “Hub,” or emporium of the West—Portage la Prairie.

The wisdom of Verandrye’s selection of Portage la Prairie as his headquarters is readily understood, when the modes of travel and transportation in vogue in his day are taken into account, as well as his project of discovering an overland route to the Western sea. The birch bark canoe was the boat of his time, and with it, shallow indeed were the waters that were not navigable; while in journeying overland, man went afoot, for horses and heavy boats belonged to a later day than that of Verandrye. Getting into the birch bark canoe at Fort de la Reine he could travel eastward to Montreal or northward to Hudson’s Bay; and on another voyage from the same starting point, after a short portage if the Assiniboine were low, or no portage at all if it were high, he entered Lake Manitoba via Portage Creek, and navigating its entire length to its Northern limit, he passed into Lake Winnipegosis, and did the same with it, and so made connection with the Saskatchewan River at Cedar Lake, when he could either paddle eastward to Hudson’s Bay or westward to the Rocky Mountains; and on a third voyage, with Fort de la Reine still the starting point, he could voyage hundreds of miles up the Assiniboine, and any of its tributaries—the Souris, Qu’Appelle or Little Saskatchewan.

Verandrye commenced to build Fort de la Reine on October 3rd and finished October 15th, so it could not have been an elaborate affair. Remembering, however, that he had the advantage of a military training, and that he had a considerable force of employees, as well as the assistance of a band of Indians, it is likely that the fort was quite pretentious in size and appearance, well suited for the purpose intended and elegant enough to suit the tastes of the Assine Pwatuk, Stone Indians.

These Indians are a branch of the Sioux tribe, called Pwatuk by the Crees, Pwanuk by the Saulteaux, and in order to distinguish them from the former, they were called Assine Pwatuk or Pwanuk, Stone Sioux, the distinguishing or qualifying word having been suggested by a peculiar method these Indians had of boiling their meat, in the days previous to their knowledge of pots and kettles. They dug a hole in the ground, and when they had made it water-tight, they placed water and red hot stones therein, and so contrived to boil their meat.

Following a wise practice which is not as common as it might be, of retaining original names of places, the river on whose banks these Indians once lived is still called Assiniboine, the last syllable boine or bwoin being a shortened and euphonized form of Pwanuk. But the poor Assine Pwanuk themselves, after whom the river was named, following in the wake of the bison, and like them swept westward by the advancing waves of civilization, struggle today for an existence, with their backs well up against the Rockies, and are to be found almost entirely within the confines of the Morely Reserves, forty miles West of Calgary.

A few days after completing Fort de la Reine, Verandrye continued his journey westward, to discover or at least learn something further about the “Kihchi Sakahikun,” Big Lake, whose waters were too salt to drink. His party comprised fifty-two voyageurs and soldiers, and as the close of navigation was near, the journey from the start was undertaken by land, the men carrying the necessary outfit on their backs.

They had not journeyed far when they were overtaken by two hundred Assiniboines, who invited them to their camp, and accompanied them thither. These simple minded people were greatly delighted, and showed the explorer every mark of respect. He was, however, rather startled when he found them prepared to give practical expression to their friendship by accompanying him with wives, children, dogs and all, to the country of the Mandans. Too courteous to hurt their feelings by a refusal, Verandrye accepted with the grace of a true Frenchman, and so moved on southward in the company of this motley crowd.

They arrived at the Mandan village about the end of November, 1738; and there also they received a most hearty welcome. The head chief speaking on behalf of himself and people, asked Verandrye to reckon them as among the members of his family, than which, according to Indian ideas, it was not possible to give any stronger proof of friendship and confidence. Verandrye, not to be out-done in civility, consented to the proposed honorary relationship, and the agreement was forthwith solemnly ratified, as the chiefs bent before him, and he placed his hands on the head of each—a veritable “rite of laying on of hands.” Ochagach had told Verandrye that the Mandans were white skinned as Verandrye himself, but this turned out to be incorrect. Possibly Ochagach was colour blind, or he was trying to pay a compliment to the superiority of Verandrye’s complexion as compared with his own.

While Verandrye made a thorough examination of this village, his son paid a visit to another that was in the neighbourhood. In general style and arrangement they were much alike, and it was known that for a century after Verandrye’s visit they were still maintained in a good state of preservation. The following is a description of the one Verandrye examined.

“Within the stockades were one hundred and fifty cabins. The streets and squares were laid out regularly, and were kept remarkably neat and clean. The smooth, wide ramparts were built with timbers, strengthened with cross pieces. At each corner was a bastion, and the fort was surrounded by a ditch fifteen feet deep and from fifteen to eighteen feet wide. He was astonished to find such elaborate fortifications among a savage tribe. Nowhere else in the New World had he seen anything of the kind.”

“The dwellings of the Mandans were large and comfortable; they were divided into several rooms, and around the wall were beds in the form of bunks. They had earthen vessels in which they cooked their food. They had underground storehouses in which they stored away fruits, skins, dried meat and grain for winter use, and for trading with neighbouring Indians for guns and ammunition.”

As may be supposed, Verandrye’s multitudinous Assiniboine retinue would have very soon made serious inroads into these stores, had they remained guests of the Mandans for any length of time, so after they had been allowed a few days rest, the wily Mandan chief contrived to disembarrass himself and his honoured guests of their mutual friends—the Assiniboines, and the way in which he did this without hurting anybody’s feelings shows that while he might have been a little behind Verandrye in politeness, he was away ahead of him in diplomacy.

He caused a rumour to be circulated that the Sioux were about to attack the village, and in apparent excitement at once set preparations afoot to meet the attack. The peace-loving Stonies, who had suffered enough in their own country from the warring propensities of their former compatriots, did not wait to be involved in the seemingly impending Sioux-Mandan mix-up, and hastily striking camp, fled for their lives.

On the day when he was to have returned to Portage la Prairie, Verandrye was taken seriously ill, and in consequence remained in the Mandan village till the middle of December. Even then he was still quite ill, and mentioned his sufferings on the way back as the greatest he had ever endured.

Two Frenchmen were left behind to learn the language. They rejoined him at his fort the following autumn. They reported a visit to the Mandans of a party of Indians from the far West who were mounted on horses; and who reported another people still further West, who dwelt in houses of brick and stone, and lived on the shore of a great lake whose waters were too salt to drink.

Probably owing to the grudging character of French patronage, Verandrye did not again in person make an attempt at the discovery of the Pacific, but made Fort de la Reine his headquarters all the time he was in the country, thence directing exploring expeditions westward via the Mandan village, and trading operations northward via Lake Manitoba. It was in line with such a policy that while the two Frenchmen were learning the Mandan language so as to be of use in further westward exploration, Verandrye sent his son, Francois, to Lake Manitoba, with a view to the extension of trade in that direction. The prospects were found encouraging, and a fort named Fort Dauphin was built somewhere on the north-western shore of the Lake. While Francois was thus employed (1740) Pierre, his brother was sent to the Mandan village to acquire more knowledge of the kihchikamik, big lake, and even to get there if he could. In the meantime, Verandrye himself gathered up the furs and journeyed to Montreal for a fresh outfit.

When he returned in 1741 to Portage la Prairie, he was met by his son Pierre, who reported failure in exploration work, owing to lack of assistance from the Mandans. Francois and his brother would seem to have been more persevering in their department. Following the northern water-stretches, they passed from Lake Manitoba to Lake Winnipegosis and thence to Cedar Lake on the Saskatchewan, where they built Fort Bourbon. Going further West they built another fort at the Pas, between Cedar Lake and the North and South branches of the Saskatchewan River. This fort they named Fort Pascoyak.

The next expedition in quest of the western sea was entrusted by Verandrye to Francois and another son. They left Fort de la Reine in 1742, accompanied by two Frenchmen; and they succeeded in hiring two guides at the Mandan village. In the course of their journey they crossed the bad lands of the Missouri, and were astonished at the mounds and pillars brilliantly coloured in blue, crimson, green and yellow, and only that they thought it would not be a brilliant idea to load down their backs with any more stuff, they would have liked to have carried away some specimens.

In this expedition the Verandryes made the acquaintance of the following tribes: the “Good-looking Indians,” the “Little Foxes,” the “Horse Indians,” “Bows” and “Indians of the Little Cherry.” They reached the foot of the Rockies on New Year’s Day, 1743. It was the nearest to their objective that the Verandryes ever got. They got back to Fort de la Reine July 2, 1743, having been absent one year and forty-eight days.

An unfriendly influence having been exerted against Verandrye for some years in Montreal, he was summoned thither in 1746; and had to answer charges made against him by parties who were incapable of forming either a just estimate of the man or his achievements.

While he was being thus harassed, the seven forts he and his sons had built were falling into ruins; but in 1747, his son Francois returned and repaired them, including Fort de la Reine. The effort to resuscitate their trading met with but indifferent success, as the misrepresentation at Montreal continued; and when the French Government saw fit to transfer its patronage from Verandrye to M. de Noyelle, their business was again brought to a standstill.

Thanks to the just representations of the Marquis de la Galissoniere, a reaction took place in Verandrye’s favour, with the result that he was decorated with the cross of St. Louis, and restored to his leadership in the West; but these expressions of restored confidence came too late, for in the midst of preparations to resume his work in the West, he was stricken with serious illness and died before the end of the year.

As Verandrye’s sons had been partners with him in his business they supposed that when the Government patronage was renewed they were included and would be able to continue their trading as if he had lived, but the Government refused to take this view of the matter; and although Francois Verandrye made a strong and straight-forward appeal to the French authorities adverse influence prevailed and the Verandrye brothers were financially ruined; and being debarred from that sphere in which they had won their laurels, and in which they were best fitted to shine, their light went out and they sank into oblivion.

After the death of Verandrye, Legardeur de St. Pierre was appointed by the Government of New France to carry on the search for the Western sea; and for this purpose he left Montreal with a party in 1750.

He passed his first winter at Fort Mauripas, whence he sent forward Niverville, one of his lieutenants, who with a party proceeded over Lake Winnipeg, hauling their supplies on toboggans. When they reached Fort Pascoyak, Niverville was taken ill, and had to remain there; but others of the party went on up stream till they reached the foot of the Rockies, and there they built a fort which they named Fort la Jonquire in honour of the Governor. This was as near as they got to the Western sea, but they had further confirmation of the story of Ochagach, for they saw some Indians who had seen other Indians who had seen the kihchikamik, the sea.

St. Pierre himself was no more successful, for though he seems to have made one determined dash towards the Pacific, the highest mark of success on record is that he travelled about as far West as the present City of Calgary. On the whole, though a brave and successful leader, he was an unsuccessful explorer, partly no doubt, because he was not sufficiently diplomatic in his dealings with the Indians. The following incident which occurred at Fort de la Reine in 1753, just before his recall and departure from the country, would seem to show that if he did not discover the Pacific it was not for lack of decisiveness.

He was alone in the fort, the few men comprising the garrison having gone out to hunt, when without any warning a large party of Assiniboines, rushed into the fort and commenced to plunder the stores. Promptly St. Pierre sized up the situation and as promptly made his resolve, and proceeded to carry it out. Seizing a fire-brand, he rushed to a barrel of gun-powder, and tearing off the top, informed them that if they did not immediately leave he would blow them all to places unknown. They might not have understood his words, but they were quite sure that he was speaking a dead language, and that his thoughts had taken an elevating turn, and they did not wait to be elevated, but knowing him to be a man of his word, they fled in terror; and need it be said, hardly had the heels of the last Assiniboine disappeared round the corner, when the gates were securely barred, and kept so until his men returned. Then they hastily gathered their belongings together and abandoned the place. Four days afterwards it was burned to the ground by the Indians.

Legardeur de St. Pierre was succeeded by Chevalier de la Corne, and during the four years of his stay he added one fort to those built by Verandrye and his sons. It was located a few miles below the forks, and was named la Corne after himself, and was the last fort built under the French regime, for after the fall of Quebec and the change in the ownership of Canada which resulted, there followed a period of about twenty years during which the fur trade languished, and Verandrye’s forts fell into ruins.

One of the principal traders during this early period was Alexander Henry, but his operations were confined chiefly to the district around Lake Superior. In 1767 Thomas Currie penetrated as far north-west as Verandrye and his sons had gone, but he made only the one venture. In the year following, James Finley, taking the same route as the one used by Currie, was equally successful. But of all the Montreal traders of this period the most successful were two Englishmen—the Frobisher brothers, who cleared $50,000 in one year.

As to the principles and methods of trading employed by these independent trading concerns, whether English or Scotch, they were no improvement to those employed by the French. Indeed drink was more freely sold to the Indians, and under its demoralizing influence murder and robbery became more common. These traders had a golden opportunity to grow rich quietly and honestly, but they abused it and it was taken from them. Before a terrible epidemic of small pox, every trader in the country had to flee for his life. The disease was contracted by some Crees and Assiniboines who had gone to the Mandan country to purchase horses. With fearful rapidity it swept northward and westward, and thousands of Indians died. It took all of the years 1781 and 1782 to run its course and to give nature time to disinfect.

Note that when this small pox and the resulting scare were over, it was not by a number of small competing concerns that the fur trade was resumed, but by the North-West Company formed for that purpose in 1783, which was the same year in which Great Britain conceded independence to her American colonies. Just why these two events happened in the same year is not easy to say, but when it is remembered that following the concession of independence there took place a considerable influx to Canada of United Empire Loyalists, it is reasonable to believe that among those immigrants would be some enterprising capitalists, who would regard the fur trade as a profitable and ready-to-hand investment, and after the experience of those who had last traded in the North-west, it is not strange that they decided to form a company instead of each trying to work his own independent and individual concern. Besides, they probably did not forget the Honourable Hudson’s Bay Company which had now been in existence one hundred and twelve years, and which being relieved of any fear of a military attack from either France or the Americans, would be likely to throw an energy and determination into their business, which would spell disaster to anything less than a well organized corporation that might venture to oppose them.

The leading spirits in the North-West Company were Simon McTavish and Benjamin and Joseph Frobisher. Something in the personnel or schemes of this company must have touched the susceptibilities of certain Americans, for two men, Peter Pond and Peter Pangman, came to Montreal expressly to form an opposition company. This they succeeded in doing, being joined by John Gregory, Alexander McLeod and Roderick McKenzie, noted fur traders who had stood aloof from the North-West Company owing to their dislike of Simon McTavish.

These companies entered into fierce competition, and side by side penetrated far north of the Saskatchewan, where the criminal acts too common to the agents of both companies reached an unhappy climax in the murder of John Ross, a trader belonging to the new company. Peter Pond, who went over to the North-West Company, was regarded as the perpetrator of this dastardly deed, which was looked upon with such horror and loathing by the better men of both companies that they decided on amalgamation, an event which took place in 1787. The trade of the united company the first year was $200,000, and in twelve years reached the sum of $600,000.

Owing to the unpopularity of Simon McTavish some of the Nor’-Westers seceded, and joined a trading firm known as the Forsythe-Richardson Company. This opposition company which was formed in 1795 was known as the X Y Company, being so named because they marked their packages of merchandise X. Y. to distinguish them from the N. W. of the other company, the letters X Y being selected for no other reason except that in the alphabetical order X follows W, and it can certainly be said that the “Little Company,” as the Nor’-Westers called them, lived up to the order of the alphabet—they went after the other.

This enterprising company pushed up the Red and Assiniboine Rivers and established a fort at the confluence of the Assiniboine and Souris in 1798. In the following year they were joined by Sir Alexander McKenzie, and the competition, which was lively enough before, then became decidedly fierce, and there were few points in the country reached by the N. W. into which the X Y also did not penetrate, and struggle to capture their share of the trade. Hand to hand conflicts with fist or club were of frequent occurrence, and after demoralizing the Indians with drink, and pounding one another into something like common sense, the crisis would seem to have been passed, the fur trading fever subsided, and even Simon McTavish lost his relish for the fray; and having decided to retire, was perfecting plans to enable him to spend the rest of his life in peace and comfort; but in the middle of his arrangements death stepped in, and his plans were overturned. He died in 1804.

After his death the N. W. and X Y companies merged into one under the name of the North-West Company, and thus united, entered into a doubly strong and keen competition for the fur trade of Canada and North-west America until a repetition of the N. W.-X Y experiences culminated in a further amalgamation—that of the North-West and the Hudson’s Bay companies, when in 1821 the two united under the name of the Hudson’s Bay Company.

Perhaps there was something in the fur trade of those days apart from the killing and skinning of fellow creatures, and a carnivorous living, that tended to engender strife; but allowing that the two companies engaged in the traffic were in the main of a different race and creed, they were after all both British as to leadership, and having half a continent in which to prosecute their business there was no justifiable reason for flying at each other and perpetuating a condition similar to the actual state of war through which they had recently passed.

Naturally both the civil and ecclesiastical authorities in Canada, favoured the North-West Company because they more strictly belonged to the country, and did not quite so openly claim that the country belonged to them. Their employees were mostly French-Canadian or Hybrid French, of whom many were old and experienced voyageurs, trappers and Coureurs des Bois. In their palmy days—1812 to 1814—it has been claimed that their employees numbered five thousand. In the Oregon district alone, where they were doing a flourishing business, and where their principal competitor was Jacob Astor, the American fur monopolist, they had over three hundred men, and their trade extended as far north as New Archangel. The Hudson’s Bay Company notwithstanding their Imperial patronage and famous charter, were inferior to them both in volume of trade and amount of capital. When amalgamation took place in 1821, the Hudson’s Bay Company had to increase its stock from $500,000 to $1,000,000 to bring it up to that of the North-West Company.

The first inland distributing point of the Nor’-Westers was Grand Rapids, soon after changed to Fort William. At the confluence of the Red and Assiniboine Rivers they built Fort Gibraltar, near the site of Verandrye’s Fort Rouge. Up the Assiniboine they built a fort near the mouth of the Souris River, and another at Qu’Appelle. Further northward they built a fort at Cumberland, and another at Isle a la Crosse and still another at Lake Athabasca.

In the meantime the Hudson’s Bay Company remained in undisputed possession of the country around Hudson’s Bay, and it was not until 1793 that they may be said to have thrown down the gauntlet to their opponents in regard to the fur trade of the Red and Assiniboine Rivers. In that year Donald McLeod headed a party upstream along the Assiniboine River, trading with the Crees and Assiniboines as he went along until he reached the Souris River, and there, about fifteen miles from where now stands the City of Brandon, he built a fort which was usually spoken of as Brandon house.

At the Red River it may be said that the Hudson’s Bay Company made good in 1799 when Fidler, the first surveyor, who if a fiddler, was by no means the first, built Fort Fidler which was so named after himself. Besides these the Hudson’s Bay had a fort at Rainy Lake, another at Red Lake, and another at Lake Winnipeg, near where now stands Fort Alexander. On the Saskatchewan they had Forts Cumberland, Carlton and Edmonton; and two other forts on the Assiniboine, one near where Fort Pelly now stands, and one at Portage la Prairie, near the site of Fort de la Reine.

Among the advantages enjoyed by the Hudson’s Bay Company over their opponents, was the no mean one of standing higher in the estimation of the Indians, for poor Lo, if not very clever, could tell which company was more strictly honest and reliable. He might not bother his head about the meaning of pro pelle cutem, but he could tell when he was getting it, and he might not know A B C, but he knew H. B. C., and had found it to be synonymous with honesty.

It is a difficult matter for any corporation to live up to the title of honourable, and the greater the power the greater the difficulty. Considering the latitude allowed the Hudson’s Bay Company by their chapter, to do very much as they pleased in this northern part of the continent, and considering the efforts of the North-West Company and others to prevent their doing so, it must be admitted that they lived up to their title of honourable, in a manner highly creditable to themselves, and favourable to the interests of the six or seven generations of Whites and Indians who lived under their regime.

One of the many things laid to their charge is that they systematically misrepresented the country, claiming that it was unsuited to an agricultural population, owing to the prevalence of summer frosts, and the length and severity of the winters. As to this, it may be remarked, that during the first one hundred and fifty years of its occupancy of the country, the company had all its time fully occupied studying how to get furs, and the conditions during that period, made the question of the country’s fitness for raising wheat and potatoes, an uninteresting one even to the people living in it, so that they were ill able to give reliable information to outsiders who might have cared to know. But in the opening years of the nineteenth century Lord Selkirk’s representation in England and Scotland aroused a great interest in this country, and the question of its fitness for agricultural pursuits became a live one both in Great Britain and Canada. When he advocated a policy of emigration to North-West America, and a colony or settlement on the Red River, its bitterest opponents were not the agents of the Hudson’s Bay Company, but those of the North-West Company, who did all in their power to strengthen the prejudice and dislike of the British people for a policy of emigration. Whatever opinions the Hudson’s Bay officials may have had as to the country’s fitness for farming, they certainly gave it a chance to speak for itself, when they took Lord Selkirk and his colonizing scheme under the shelter of their wing, making him a partner in their business by allowing him to buy £35,000 worth of stock, which was about a third of their entire capital.

During the first decade or so after the introduction of farming into the Red River country it must be admitted that from time to time there were experiences of summer frosts that corroborated what had been said by some Hudson’s Bay officials. The following is an authentic record of one such experience:

“On the 8th June, 1836, a severe frost killed most of the barley and cut down the wheat, and on the 19th August of the same season a very heavy frost so injured the wheat that it was not even fit for seed.” After facts such as these, don’t blame the Hudson’s Bay Company for not being enthusiastic immigration agents. To the best of their knowledge, they spoke the truth, and say what one may about that, it must be admitted that their policy was much more innocent and harmless than that of some agents who subsequently brought down curses upon this country, and more deservedly upon their own heads, by representing this country as “the land of corn and wine” “with milk and honey blest.” The metaphors are all right, but naturally are increasingly metaphorical as one gets nearer the north pole.

LORD SELKIRK

There are very few episodes in the history of this country more interesting than Lord Selkirk’s colonizing scheme, and the result of its endorsation by the Hudson’s Bay Company; and it being so much easier at this distance of time to correctly appraise the rancour and prejudice to which his undertakings were exposed in his own day and for a considerable time afterwards, a brief account of his exploits in Rupert’s Land should be worth my while to write and yours to read.

Lord Selkirk was born in 1771, one hundred and one years after the formation of the Hudson’s Bay Company. He was the youngest of seven brothers, and it is remarkable that by the year 1799, when he was only twenty-eight years of age, not only had all his brothers died but his father as well, leaving him heir to a large fortune, and the title of Earl of Selkirk.

After passing successfully through the University of Edinburgh, he undertook to assist his fellow countrymen. Robert Burns and Sir Walter Scott were contemporaries of his, and they were also his friends. Of Lord Selkirk it can truly be said that he showed his nobility before as well as after he received the title. Anyone thoughtfully and impartially studying his history cannot fail to arrive at the conclusion that the whole trend of his life, is that of a man whose mastering ambition—to do good to many, made thoughts of personal aggrandizement but of secondary importance. In other words, he was unselfish. He was a philanthropist. Some of his contemporaries said that he was one hundred years ahead of his time, not knowing that they were one hundred years behind theirs.

In his time there was some British legislation passed of which the evident aim was not “the greatest good to the greatest number,” but the greatest good to a number of the greatest. The result was a disruption of the clan system in Scotland. Before this legislation the land occupied by a clan was vested in all its members, but after the new enactment, in the head of the clan only. According to the old arrangement they could occupy the land as long as they pleased, and it had pleased them to do so from generation to generation; but now they were placed in the position of ordinary tenants, and the head of the clan could change his tenants as any ordinary landlord might do. Some of these chieftains sent their sons South to be educated, and when they succeeded to the control of the estate, they did so with changed if not improved social and business ideas. Some of them found it to their advantage to lease to capitalists the land that was occupied by the crofters, and these small holdings being joined together made an extensive sheep-run for the rich man, while the poor crofter was turned adrift as if he were not “better than a sheep.”

The condition of these evicted clansmen so strongly appealed to the kindly heart of the Earl of Selkirk, that he travelled through the Highlands so as to learn from actual observation the true condition of the evicted. He also made a journey to France to find out if there were any effective remedial measures being adopted there to bring about a recovery from the evils of the recent revolution. If any further proof be needed to convince the fair-minded reader that Lord Selkirk loved his unfortunate fellow-countrymen, it is only necessary to state that for their sakes he learned the Gaelic language, so that when they poured out the story of their woes, he might be able to show them that he understood.

It seems strange that the British Government, and indeed the British people should have been so indifferent about emigration in the time of Lord Selkirk. Perhaps the recent evolution or devolution of the British colonies into the United States of America was so keenly felt that a further lapse of time was needed before colonizing schemes would be in favour. But it was very likely indeed that had the British Government acceded to Lord Selkirk’s wish, and made the colonizing of Rupert’s Land a national undertaking, he never would have made it a personal one, or have owned any Hudson’s Bay stock, or had anything to do with the fur trade.

In 1803 he had eight hundred colonists from the Isle of Skye who were prepared to emigrate to Rupert’s Land via Hudson’s Bay. His scheme as to destination being turned down by the Government, he bought land for them in Prince Edward’s Island, and personally saw to their being comfortably settled there.

In the year 1804 he took out another party of one hundred and eleven, who were landed at Montreal, whence they were sent by bateaux to Kingston, and finally located in Kent County, Ontario. Before returning to England on this occasion, he rested a while at Montreal, and was feted by many of the leading merchants. On one occasion he was the honoured guest of the club of the North-West Company, when the honours were done in style by Simon McTavish who was called the Lion of Montreal.

Little did his entertainers suppose that he would one day be the largest shareholder in the great company competing with them in the North-west; and it is hardly likely that Lord Selkirk himself had any notion of such a thing at this date, as it was not until seven years later, and then in connection with his colonizing work, that he became connected with the Hudson’s Bay Company.

Upon his return in 1805, he resumed his investigation of the situation among the evicted Highlanders, and for the enlightenment of the public, gave his findings in a book which was published the same year, and which was praised by Sir Walter Scott for its precision and accuracy.

In 1806 he was chosen one of the sixteen Scottish Peers to represent Scotland in the House of Lords. In this position he continued ably to set forth his views, maintaining that it was in the interest of the nation to encourage emigration to its overseas dominions, particularly North-West America; and that it was no more than humane, that those who could not be provided with a home in the homeland, should be encouraged to seek one in some other part of the empire. The following phrases are to be found in his speeches: “Now it is our duty to befriend these people. . . . Let us direct their emigration, and let them be led abroad to new possessions. . . . Give them homes under our own flag, . . . and they will strengthen the nation.”

When Lord Selkirk found that the colonization of Rupert’s Land was not to be proceeded with, either as a national or personal undertaking, he approached the Government from another angle. Noticing the close connection between the British Government and the Hudson’s Bay Company, he conceived the good idea of approaching the Government by means of that corporation, and in order that he might do so the more effectively he joined it, not however, until with a cautiousness that did him credit, and was worthy of his nationality, he had had the validity of the Hudson’s Bay charter thoroughly investigated, for which purpose he consulted five leading English lawyers. Their decision was that it was flawless; and further, that it invested them with the right to give legal title to others to tracts of land lying within their territories. It was only after this that Lord Selkirk and his friends, as before stated, acquired £35,000 of Hudson’s Bay stock.

In order to offset the great influence that this would give him with the Hudson’s Bay Company, some of the Nor’-Westers actually went to the lengths of purchasing a few Hudson’s Bay shares, so that when Lord Selkirk’s colonizing scheme was brought before a meeting of its stockholders they might succeed in having it voted down; but they did not succeed, and considering the influences inimical to his plan, he must have presented his case in a masterly fashion, for he carried his point by a two-thirds majority.

Lord Selkirk’s next move was to secure from the Hudson’s Bay Company 116,000 square miles of land situated on the banks of the Red and Assiniboine Rivers, and to make sure that his proteges would this time be in possession of land from which they could not be evicted, he was careful to have the deed of transfer properly executed. It was dated June 13th, 1811, and had the seal of the company, and was signed by their secretary, Alexander Lane. The land thus secured to Lord Selkirk may not have cost him much at first, but it cost him quite enough by the time he got through, and probably this fact was taken into consideration by the company, when in 1835 the land reverted to them upon the generous payment to Lord Selkirk’s heirs of $85,000.

It is regrettable that the Canadian Government did not name the first province of the West, Assiniboia instead of Manitoba, more particularly as the pronunciation of the latter name now regarded as correct, is so seriously at variance with all known usages prevalent in the country up to the time of the Transfer—that of the Salteaux, Mán-i-too-wa—bá, of the Cree Mán-i-too-wa-páo; while others, when not speaking in these Indian languages might vary considerably in the pronunciation of the word, and generally deleted the antipenultimate, and sometimes the second syllable as well, thus: Mánitobá or Mún-too-bá; but be it remarked, there never was any variation with respect to the accents, which were always placed on the first and final syllables—the secondary accent on the first and the primary accent on the last. Then came along some linguistic genius (in the dead languages) and inflicted that awful jolt to our auricular sensibilities by pronouncing the word Mani-tóba. But apart from all this, since the province embraces the district secured by Lord Selkirk—one might almost say at the cost of his life—in order that he might provide homes for his poor fellow-countrymen within the confines of the British Empire, and remembering too his great predecessor, the celebrated Frenchman, Verandrye, who made his headquarters on the banks of the Assiniboine, it would have been a fitting act of courtesy to have given the name of Assiniboia to the first province carved out of the great West, in memory of these celebrated pioneers.

Lord Selkirk having procured land for his colonists, next proceeded to procure colonists for his land. For this purpose he issued a prospectus and employed three recruiting agents, viz.: Miles Macdonell, who recruited in Ireland, and Colin Robertson and Roderick McDonald who recruited in Scotland. As a result of their efforts one hundred and twenty-five emigrants accepted Lord Selkirk’s offer, and when the three ships, Prince of Wales, Eddystone and Edward and Ann left Stornoway July 26, 1811, bound for York Factory, one hundred and five of these were on board, the other twenty having been induced to go back on their word by agents of the North-West Company and others. Lord Selkirk gave Mr. Miles Macdonell charge of these colonists, and appointed him first Governor of Assiniboia. They reached York Factory September 24, 1811, and wintered there. In the following summer they proceeded on their journey in four flat boats and reached their destination on the Red River August 30th, 1812, and located on the western part of Point Douglas. Later they were sent on to winter at Pembina, as buffalo were usually easy of access from that point. After their departure from the Red River another party arrived, consisting of eighteen Irishmen, who were in charge of Owen Kaveny. These also were sent on to winter at Pembina. A fort was built there for the accommodation of the colonists, which was named Fort Daer.

In the summer of 1813 the colonists suffered greatly for lack of food, and had to help eke out an existence by eating berries and roots. Of the latter the wild turnip (cree, miskoostusimin), received particular attention. Of this root it may be said, that being of a dry and fibrous nature, with no marked flavour of its own, it is more susceptible to flavouring than the potato, of which it may be remembered, Sir Walter Raleigh wrote when introducing this celebrated tuber to the British public: “To give them the greater relish in eating, they should be boiled with the juice of prunes.” Probably, however, the poor ex-crofter hadn’t the juice of a thing in which to boil his miskoostusimin.

In 1813 a second party numbering ninety-seven were sent out. They landed at Churchill and wintered there together, but in the month of April forty-one of them, of whom half were women, went forward to the settlement, arriving there in time to plant forty bushels of potatoes, which were doing fine by the time the rest of the contingent from Churchill arrived. There were now two hundred and twenty Colonists in the country. They had come out contrary to the wishes and advice of the North-West Company it is true, but considering their helpless plight in the old land, which so far was little changed in the new, one would think there might have been chivalry enough in the leaders of the North-West Company, to at least have left them in peace, if they could not rise to the level of giving them a welcome and treating them with kindness. They did nothing of the kind, but continued their policy of obstruction, and in their treatment of the strangers showed an unmanly spirit. So while one company was doing its best to feed them the other was doing its best to starve them.

Governor Macdonell was probably acting within his rights as Governor of Assiniboia, in issuing an order that no provisions were to be taken out of the country, except what was needed for the business of carrying on the fur trade. Had he stopped there it might have been better, but that was not his style; and shortly after he sent his secretary, John Spencer, up the Assiniboine to the Souris Fort, and there by way of neutralizing the starving out policy of the Nor’-Westers, he seized six hundred bags of pemmican, besides a lot of dried meat and grease, removing the same to the Hudson’s Bay Fort, Brandon House.

As might be expected after this proceeding, the opposition of the Nor’-Westers became more bitter, and the winter of 1814-15 was passed in secret or undisguised acts of hostility by both parties. In an attack on Fort Douglas a Mr. Warren was killed, through the bursting of a blunderbus or gun of some kind.

Duncan Cameron who was in charge of Fort Gibraltar was an astute Scotsman, and by professing great sympathy for the Colonists, and by offering them more comfortable homes in Ontario, he succeeded in very much weakening the influence of Governor Macdonell, who seeing that to attempt any longer to maintain his authority as Governor would be to involve the Colonists in still greater sufferings, and knowing that Cameron had shown the disaffected Colonists a magistrate’s warrant for his arrest, telling them that they would be left in peace if he succeeded in his capture, he mercifully decided that for their sakes it was better to let Cameron have his way, and so he quietly submitted to arrest. Having done so he was at once sent to Montreal for trial. He was never tried, however, because it was contended that the good faith and authority under which he had acted was his justification.

With Miles Macdonell out of the way, Duncan Cameron appeared in his true colours. Before he had sometimes come out in a scarlet uniform or some other showy costume—sometimes in kilts—a treat no doubt to them or the mosquitoes. Now he wore proper clothes and talked business. The offer with which he had tempted them during winter, and which two-thirds of them had accepted, was as follows: Payment of wages that might be due either by Lord Selkirk or the Hudson’s Bay Company, and assistance to obtain land. Duncan Cameron lived up to his promises, and the one hundred and thirty-four Colonists who had accepted his offer had to live up to theirs. Under his leadership they embarked June, 1815, and journeying via Lake Superior and Georgian Bay, arrived at Holland Landing in September. There they obtained land in the vicinity of New Market, and many of their descendants are to be found there still.

By this exodus of Colonists the number remaining on the banks of the Red River was reduced to forty; and the pick of souls they must have been, to thus place honour before every other consideration and to further brave the terrors of Nor’-Wester enmity.

Duncan Cameron’s place during his absence was filled by his colleague, Alexander McDonell, who knowing that neither flattery nor bribery would succeed with the remaining Colonists, lost no time in giving them their marching orders, informing them both verbally and by written notice that they were to rid the country of their presence, going when and how they pleased, only going quickly.

Instead of their forlorn condition and honest purpose appealing to the Nor’-Westers and their ignorant tools the Bois Brules, they were treated as so many escaped convicts, whose only choice was between death and surrender. Horses and cattle were stolen; and in general, the hand of these neighbours was never extended in their direction, except in perpetration of deeds of this dastardly character.

Finding that even by such tactics as these they could not quickly enough accomplish their purpose, they decided to openly raid the settlement. Fortunately the Colonists got word of this, and while the necessary force of Bois Brules was being recruited, they placed themselves under the leadership of John McLeod, a veteran Hudson’s Bay official. Then although they had not pledged their word to fight in furtherance of Lord Selkirk’s schemes, each man acted as if pledged to his God and himself to fight unto the death, especially in defence of the women and children. So when the time came, they stood up like true men and fought; they fought coolly and bravely as Highlanders have always done, and taught their foes what other foes before and since have learned—that “Britishers fight best with their backs against the wall.”

The Bois Brules were mounted and armed with muskets, and out-numbered the Colonists and Hudson’s Bay party two to one. They were under the leadership of Alexander McDonell and Cuthbert Grant. McLeod, who wrote a description of the battle royal, states that one man on their side was killed, and all but thirteen wounded. At one time it looked as though they were going to be overwhelmed, and then it was that McLeod with the resourcefulness of the true general bethought him of a rusty old cannon that was laid away in the fort, and it was requisitioned now notwithstanding the popular opinion, that when discharged it would be as great a menace to the safety of the man behind the gun as to those at whom it might be aimed. However, realizing that their desperate situation called for a desperate remedy, the gun was hastily hauled out, and a lot of cart chains were converted into chain-shot, and the ancient piece of ordnance was loaded to full capacity and pointed in the direction of the enemy, who with their savage Indian war-whoop, and an occasional spurt forward, appeared to be waiting the psychological moment, when they were to pounce upon and capture their prey. Once more they are coming; once more the air is filled with their horrid yells, when suddenly, as if the earth had opened her mouth and vomited a thunder bolt, accompanied with a league of chain lightning, there came fiendishly screaming about their ears, the curtailed cart chains, and the leaves and branches behind which they had concealed themselves flew hither and thither. The rusty cannon had spoken, and horses and riders as if by mutual consent lost no time in looking for safer quarters; and an occasional reminder from the brave little cannon kept them there, until convinced of its powers of execution they finally abandoned the siege.

This gave the harassed Colonists a breathing spell, which they turned to good account, by preparing to abandon their homes. Fortunately they had boats enough to hold both the Colonists and the Hudson’s Bay employees, and their most necessary belongings as well. So they hastily embarked with their wounded friends, and floating down the Red River, skirted the south-eastern shore of Lake Winnipeg till they reached Jack River, near Norway House, where they awaited further developments.

No sooner had they left the settlement than the Bois Brules commenced to destroy their houses, and generally to pull to pieces what they had put together with so much thrift, courage and perseverance. But there was one nut that they found too hard to crack, and that was Fort Douglas, for the heroic John McLeod and three sturdy companions, with the aid of the rusty and trusty four-pounder, continued to hold the fort against all odds. The three men were John McIntosh and Archibald Currie of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and Hugh McLean, who was at this time the sole representative of Lord Selkirk’s Colonists, remaining on the banks of the Red River. Day and night this brave little garrison kept watch from their stronghold, and whenever the enemy approached, the little cannon spoke once more, and again the deadly cart chains flew screaming through the air. At length the Nor’-Westers seemed to have some premonition of an impending change. Possibly they had received secret intelligence from Fort William; and, at any rate, the besieged were after a time left in undisturbed possession of their fort, and were able to walk forth and study the scene of desolation, and to bestow some attention on the little gardens and fields whose owners had regretfully abandoned them, expecting never to return.

Fortunately, Mr. McLeod was more optimistic, and not only attended to the growing crops, but set about restoring the houses wherever it could be done. Meanwhile, Lord Selkirk was not idle; for while the interference of Duncan Cameron was depriving his colony of one hundred and thirty-four settlers, he had succeeded in securing another party of ninety, made up, it is said, of emigrants who were an improvement on the previous importations.

Anticipating further trouble when they arrived in the settlement, he took the precaution of sending Colin Robertson with twenty Canadians via the eastern route, and they arrived shortly after the Nor’-Westers had left John McLeod in peaceable possession of Fort Douglas. When Mr. Robertson arrived at Fort Douglas and found the Colonists gone, he immediately turned about to fetch them back; and arriving at Jack River he not only found the Colonists who had fled, but there he also met the third party who were just arriving. These three parties together numbered one hundred and fifty, and when they arrived at Fort Douglas, Lord Selkirk and the Hudson’s Bay Company were once more for a time in the ascendency there.

Robert Semple, a retired British officer holding the rank of Captain came out in charge of this party of ninety Colonists, and also in the capacity of Governor of the colony, as successor to Miles Macdonell. Colin Robertson, his subordinate officer, was a previous employee of the North-West Company, and had Governor Semple retained him by his side, so as to be aided by his experience and advice, it might have been better for himself and the country, a fact of which the redoubtable Duncan of kilts and Gaelic fame was soon apprised, for soon as he had returned from Canada after his successful deportation of Colonists, and before he could get into diplomatic relations with the latest importation, Colin pounced upon him and made him prisoner. But, past master in diplomacy that he was, he was soon at liberty again, and probably on his own recognizance.

The seed planted by the Colonists in 1815 did well, and fifteen hundred bushels of wheat were threshed in the fall. Seed had to be saved out of this, and as they were without the means of hauling buffalo meat from any great distance, it was necessary to again move to Pembina for the winter. But even there they were far from the buffalo, as these animals seemed to put in that winter on some other feeding grounds.

While the settlers were undergoing great sufferings at Pembina both from hunger and cold, the agents of the two companies were striving one against the other more bitterly than ever. From the two following extracts it would seem that the Nor’-Westers were prepared to go to great lengths, not stopping short of bloodshed, if the Colonists could not be got rid of in any other way.

In March, 1816, Alexander McDonell wrote to Duncan Cameron from Fort Qu’Appelle: “A storm is gathering in the North, ready to burst on the rascals who deserve it. Little do they know their situation. Last year was but a joke. The new nation are coming forward to their native soil to expel the intruders and assassins.” And Cuthbert Grant wrote: “The Half-Breeds at Fort de Prairie and the English River are to be here in the spring. . . . It is to be hoped we shall come off with flying colours.”

The policy that has been tried and has turned out unsuccessful, is of course always liable to suffer by a comparison with one that has not been tried. Bearing this in mind, one should not be too ready to indulge in adverse criticism of Governor Semple’s public actions, yet one cannot help regret that the man who was in charge of the Colonists at this time was not some veteran Hudson’s Bay diplomat or tactician who would have had a fair show at beating crooked-armed McDonell at his own game.

When Governor Semple had Duncan Cameron arrested and sent to London, England, for trial, he was probably within his rights, and did a good stroke of business, for who could tell what further mischief he might have wrought among the Colonists with his Gaelic tongue and kilts, had he been permitted to remain in the country. Yet, better to have taken that risk, if he could not have been sent away by any man except Colin Robertson—a man who was well acquainted with the country and its people, and also with the policy and personnel of the North-West Company, and who, although said to have had a personal grudge against Alexander McDonell, evidently realizing that the situation was critical, favoured a policy of prudence and had tried to dissuade Governor Semple from pulling down Fort Gibraltar, telling him that it was sure to be followed by acts of reprisal.

Duncan Cameron was tried in London in 1817, and was acquitted, for it was declared that he could not be accused of having committed any crime; but that was not the worst. Later on he brought an action against Lord Selkirk for illegal detention, and the court awarded him £3,000.

In 1816 Fort Gibraltar was captured and pulled down, and much of the material was used in the enlarging and improving of Fort Douglas, and likely it was as a reprisal for this particular act that the Nor’-Westers struck a blow at the Hudson’s Bay Company further west by seizing the year’s returns of furs and provisions on the Qu’Appelle and Assiniboine Rivers. Their first haul was made at the Qu’Appelle. Five flat boats were being floated down stream loaded with twenty-two bales of furs and six hundred bags of pemmican. James Bird was in charge, and with him were Mr. Pembrun and Jno. Bird, Junior. On May 12th they were attacked by an armed party of forty-nine Bois Brules, under the leadership of Cuthbert Grant and Peter Pangman. All the furs and pemmican were seized, and Messrs. Pembrun and Bird taken prisoners. A Mr. Sutherland was allowed to proceed to the Red River Settlement in one of the boats, minus the cargo. Alexander McDonell took charge of the captured brigade, and continued the journey downstream. Arriving at Brandon House, he plundered it of everything of any value. The next stopping place was Portage la Prairie, where they arrived on June 16th.

Their party now numbered one hundred and twenty, some of whom were servants of the North-West Company, while others were Bois Brules, hired expressly for the occasion and coming from various part of the country, where they lived much as the thoroughbred savages, and to whom they were superior chiefly in being able to speak both Cree and French, instead of Cree only; and from whom they were distinguishable chiefly by their clearer skin and heavier build, but from whom they differed not a whit in the easy, graceful step of the moccassin-raised man or woman, while in the matter of undressiness, though the Frenchman did not quite equal his red brother, yet on special occasions there were some who were wont to adapt themselves to the unsophisticated tastes of the Indian, and to appear in a scantiness of broadcloth that left the narrowest possible margin on the side of decency.

When treated with proper consideration the Bois Brules can be easily directed and becomes a pleasant and faithful companion; but when treated in an overbearing manner, or when encouraged to give himself the rein, especially when under the influence of drink, he is liable to become a little worse than other human beings under like circumstances—he is liable to become inhuman. Wonder not then that men of this type in the hands of clever and designing rogues could become easy and ready tools in the perpetration of deeds of the most atrocious character.

Arriving at Portage la Prairie, Alexander McDonell firmly secured his boats to the banks of the Assiniboine, somewhere at the foot of the Sand Hills, near the site now usually spoken of as “The Old Fort.” There he hastily fortified his position with bags of pemmican, having good reason to expect a visit from the Hudson’s Bay people, intent upon recovering their property.

According to a plan laid down at Fort William, the Nor’-Westers who were to be sent from there, and those who were to come down the Assiniboine, were to meet at the Red River on the 20th June. On account of the destruction of Fort Gibraltar, Alex. McDonell decided to stay at Portage la Prairie in charge of his valuable accumulation of furs and provisions, while he sent half of his men to meet the party from Fort William at the appointed rendezvous. The party who left Portage la Prairie for this purpose were in charge of Mr. Cuthbert Grant and consisted of sixty men, who were mounted and well armed; and among them were two or three Indians. It was claimed that their instructions were to avoid a collision with the Hudson’s Bay people or Colonists, and, with this object in view, they were to leave the regular route when in the vicinity of Fort Douglas, and circle far to the north so as not to be observed.

Unfortunately they were observed, and when Governor Semple was informed of their presence, he simply remarked, “We must go out and see these people.” Accordingly he left the fort, accompanied by twenty-eight men, some of whom were mere lads, as he had with his characteristic kindness, insisted that the married men should remain in the fort with their families.

When the Colonists met the French half-breeds at Seven Oaks there followed what some have called a fight, but which is as often and more correctly designated a massacre, and of which the account considered the most reliable is that of Mr. John Pritchard, grandfather of Archbishop Matheson; and it must be admitted that his version of the affair bears the impress of candour, and shows a desire to tell the whole truth, for we are informed that one of the Half-breeds greeted him with the remark, “Petit Chien” (you little dog). “What are you doing here?” This question in which Mr. Pritchard is classed as a diminitive specimen of the canine race, is accounted for by the fact that though he was now a settler in the Red River he had been previous to his retirement, an officer in the service of the North-West Company, during which time this particular Half-breed most likely made his acquaintance, and was now gratified to renew it under the altered circumstances, and showed it by the familiar expression of his sentiments in the way just mentioned.

When Governor Semple and his companions had proceeded a short distance, they met a number of the Colonists running towards the fort and shouting, “The Half-breeds, the Half-breeds.” Proceeding a little further, he halted the party, and a message was sent back to the fort for a cannon and as many men as could be spared. These not arriving quickly, he gave the order to advance; and as they went forward the Nor’-Westers suddenly appeared from behind some bushes, and quickly bearing down upon them, divided, and partly surrounded them in the form of a half moon. They were now close enough to notice that the Half-breeds were painted and disguised so as to appear as hideous as possible, and in further pursuance of their Indian tactics, they gave out a fierce war-whoop, and made other hideous noises.

A half-breed by the name of Boucher now advanced toward Governor Semple, calling out, “What do you want? What do you want?” Governor Semple answered, “What do you want?” to which Boucher replied, “We want our fort,” and Governor Semple said, “Well, go to your fort.” Boucher answered insultingly, and Governor Semple was seen to put his hand on Boucher’s gun. Then a single shot rang out. Some suppose that it was the accidental discharge of a gun in the hands of Lieutenant Holt. Others say that it was from the ranks of the Half-breeds. Then firing became general; and it is believed that at the first volley from the Bois Brules, most of Semple’s party were either killed or wounded.

One man killed and one man wounded was the loss on the side of the attackers, while on the side of the attacked there was twenty-one killed and one wounded. In other words, only seven of the party who emerged from the gate of Fort Douglas, lived to re-enter it, those few having saved their lives by flight. All who were wounded were not only killed but their bodies were subjected to barbarous abuse and mutilation.

As the few men who had escaped were being pursued in the direction of the fort they were met by Mr. Burke coming along with the cannon, who by opening fire on the pursuers, enabled the pursued to reach the fort in safety. In rendering this service to his friends Mr. Burke did not escape unscathed, for he was hit in the leg with a ball, from the effects of which he suffered for the rest of his life.

During the night following this 16th June, 1816, the Colonists had some exceedingly sorrowful and anxious hours, for from what had occurred they had good cause to believe that the Bois Brules were bent on their extermination, nor had the Hudson’s Bay servants any reason to suppose that there would be any discrimination in their favour.

By the death of Governor Semple, Sheriff Alexander Macdonald became officer in command; and it required no arguments from him to convince his little mixed garrison of the seriousness of the situation, and to persuade them of the necessity of standing by one another as a solid unit, so as to defend themselves to the full extent of their power, and the best possible advantage.

The Nor’-Westers spent the night at Frog Plain. There Mr. Pritchard was held a prisoner; and again his life was threatened, and again some ill-mannered Frenchman called him “Petit Chien.”

It is fortunate that Cuthbert Grant, leader of the Bois Brules, proved amenable to reason, and had sufficient influence with his fellow-countrymen to hold them in check, while negotiations were being entered into between Mr. Pritchard, Mr. Macdonald and himself respecting the occupants of Fort Douglas. After the atrocities of the previous day Mr. Macdonald was naturally backward about risking the lives of the women and children under his care, by allowing the Nor’-Westers to enter the fort under any circumstances; and those comprising his little garrison took the same view of the matter. He therefore accompanied Mr. Pritchard to Frog Plain, that he might judge for himself from what he saw and heard, how it would be best to act. There he became convinced that the assurance of Cuthbert Grant could be relied upon, that if the fort and everything within it excepting personal property was surrendered, the Colonists would be allowed to leave in peace.

Accordingly on the following day Mr. Grant with his followers approached the fort, and was met by Mr. Macdonald with a flag of truce. The fort was then entered and the goods of the Hudson’s Bay seized. But a proper inventory was taken, each sheet of which was signed “Cuthbert Grant, acting for the North-West Company.”

After having completely crushed any opposition that it may have been in the power of the Colonists to offer, the Bois Brules showed sufficient love for them to allow them three days in which to pack up and be off; also all the boats they needed, and enough provisions to last them until they had gotten themselves afar off. Grant gave his consent to the interment of the remains of Governor Semple and the others, and his assurance of non-molestation while this was being done. More than that, a Nor’-Wester was placed in each of the boats as they floated down the river, and Mr. Grant with a few men rode abreast as a precaution against an attack from some unforgiving Metis.

On the day after their departure, they were met by the Nor’-Westers who were arriving from Fort William. They were stopped and their baggage examined, not exempting that of the late Governor. Any papers that it was thought might be of importance in the way of evidence were seized; after which they were lavish with advice to the fugitives, to abandon Lord Selkirk’s forlorn hope, and to follow the example of their compatriots who had accepted the good offices of Duncan Cameron, and found themselves safe and comfortable homes in Canada. Then the pilgrims were allowed to continue their journey, and once more they left the land of their adoption which had been so plentifully moistened with their tears and their blood, and they skirted the eastern shore of Lake Winnipeg till they reached that haven of refuge, Jack River.

It would be a great pleasure to anyone fond of relating anything that is to the credit of humanity, to be able to say without a perversion of the truth when giving an account of the affair at Seven Oaks, that after the Bois Brules had had a little time to reflect over what they had done, they felt sorry and ashamed. No such pleasure is his—far from it. He has to tell with sorrow that these fellows gloried in what they had done, so that when we are told by historian Ross that a large majority of them came to violent deaths—such as being shot, drowned, frozen, starved, struck by lightning and the like, we need not pretend that we are very sorry or very surprised!

When messengers arrived at Portage la Prairie, and told Alexander McDonald what had happened, he became quite hilarious, and when the whole ghastly story had been told, he led the crowd in loud and repeated cheering. There is no record of any words of regret having been uttered by the Half-breeds or their leaders, either at Portage la Prairie or Point Douglas.

When Lord Selkirk heard of the troubles Miles Macdonell was having in the endeavor to carry out his plans, and of his unsuccessful resistance of Nor’-Wester aggressiveness, he formed the belated conclusion that it would not be possible to prevent acts of violence in the settlement without a military force. In the endeavour to obtain such a force he first approached the British Government through Lord Bathurst, Secretary of State, stating in his petition that a military force was needed to safeguard the lives and property of the inhabitants of this part of the empire, and that a small force was all that was necessary. His petition not being granted he next approached the Canadian Government through Sir Gordon Drummond, Governor of Lower Canada. He made his plea stronger in this instance, but with no better success. Still bravely adhering to his colonizing plans in the face of these discouragements, he once more approached the forenamed Governments, to obtain their sanction to his providing the necessary military force at his own expense. Almost strange it seems, but neither Government offered any objection to this, and consented to his going ahead with his military adventures as well as his colonizing and mercantile ones, the Canadian Government even going so far as to provide him with the magnificent bodyguard of a sergeant and six men, large enough perhaps they thought to keep his Lordship from getting hurt, and not large enough to hurt them.

But the Canadian authorities, even if unintentionally, did show a very high estimate of the honourable character of Lord Selkirk, when they trusted him thus—as only one in a thousand may be trusted—in allowing him to lead a little army of his own into a region where civilization was unrepresented save by two fur trading companies pitted one against the other in bitter rivalry, with one of which companies he was so closely identified, that however fairly he might endeavour to act he was bound to be accused of partiality by the company so bitterly opposed to his own.

It was late in 1815 when Lord Selkirk, accompanied by the Countess, his son and his two daughters, arrived in Montreal. On the refusal of the Canadian Government to provide a military force to restore and maintain order in the Red River settlement, he set about doing so, with their consent, at his own expense. In this undertaking he was kept busily engaged until the opening of navigation in 1816. Early in May a brigade of Hudson’s Bay canoes left Montreal for the interior, and accompanying them was Mr. Miles Macdonell, sent forward by Lord Selkirk to procure the latest news from the Colony on the Red River.

Lord Selkirk had no difficulty in procuring recruits for his last body of emigrants. There were at the time of his arrival, two regiments of European troops located in Canada, viz., the De Meurons stationed at Montreal, and the Wattiville stationed at Kingston. They had been engaged first in the Napoleonic War and later in the War with the States; and at this time were being disbanded in Canada. So here, ready-to-hand, was first class material for a military adventure; nor was there any valid reason why these men who were inured to the perils and hardships of a military life, should not be equally well fitted to engage successfully in the peaceful pursuits of husbandry on the banks of the Red River, their previous training being some guarantee that they would arrive at their destination, and that when they had done so, farming in those parts would become a little safer and more pleasant than it had been in the past.

The inducements for which these military agriculturists undertook the expedition were as follows: A certain portion of land, necessary agricultural implements and $8.00 monthly while on the voyage. One hundred and twenty De Meurons were engaged, and twenty of the Wattiville regiment. Besides, there were one hundred and thirty voyageurs. The brigade left Montreal early in June, and on arriving at Sault Ste. Marie, Lord Selkirk made a strong effort to get two magistrates to accompany him northward, because though himself a magistrate, he felt that it was not advisable that he should act in that capacity in any instance where his personal interests were involved. However, in the extremely trying position in which he found himself placed, later on he felt it his duty to exercise his magisterial powers. His explanation to the authorities was not unreasonable, viz., that he was forced to do it, and that to have adopted the alternative course would have been submission to a policy “in which force ignored every standard of justice.”

The brigade had not proceeded far after leaving Sault Ste. Marie when two Hudson’s Bay canoes were met, in one of which was Miles Macdonell, who, as previously stated, had been sent ahead to obtain news of the Red River Settlement. It had not been necessary for him to go further west than Lake Winnipeg, as he was there met by a party from the settlement who brought word of the Seven Oaks affair, and the expulsion of the Colonists. With this mournful intelligence he at once returned, meeting Lord Selkirk and his party, as just stated, a short distance from Sault Ste. Marie.

Mr. McGillivray, the North-West officer in charge of Fort William, received the news not much earlier than Lord Selkirk, as it was Miles Macdonell or some of his party who gave it out at Fort William in passing, so that when the Earl arrived there news of the awful tragedy was still fresh in the minds of both. To Lord Selkirk it must have been heart-breaking, and even to the Nor’-Westers—among whom there must have been many right-minded men—it must have been brought home to them that blood-guiltiness was largely to be laid at the door of their establishment. But whatever the reasons for acting as they did it must be admitted that they acted prudently. Their behaviour was not that of men who endorsed the actions of the slayers of Semple and his companions, but rather that of men who were satiated with a policy of aggressiveness and reprisal, and who wished to direct their thoughts into channels of business less liable to be drenched with human gore.

It speaks well for both sides, and shows the value of education and discipline, that though feeling ran very high, no blood was shed on this occasion, and that there was no recourse to brute force on either side, although Lord Selkirk acting in his magisterial capacity, arrested, tried, imprisoned and sent east for trial, those whom he considered most guilty. Even the De Meurons were kept within bounds; and the Nor’-Westers, although they considered Lord Selkirk’s actions quite unjustifiable, had no recourse to physical force, although some of their supporters afterwards made the claim that they had the advantage of numbers, and could have annihilated Lord Selkirk and his whole party had they felt so disposed; and that they did not defend themselves by force because they had made the resolve that there was to be no more bloodshed, and therefore restrained themselves, confining their resentment to protests either verbal or written.

The result of Lord Selkirk’s investigations was the arrest of Mr. McGillivray and other North-West officials who were sent in charge of some twenty of the De Meuron soldiers to undergo trial in the courts of Eastern Canada. Lord Selkirk spent the winter of 1816-17 at Fort William.

At a point about half way between Fort William and Fort Douglas the Nor’-Westers had a fort that was in charge of a Mr. Dease. This gentleman very reluctantly had to resign in favour of Captain D’Orsonnen of the De Meurons, who regarded it as a point of strategic importance for the final dash towards the objective, and that dash was made in the month of February. Captain D’Orsonnen, with his sturdy little force then set out on snow shoes, following the Rainy River and then the Lake of the Woods, till they reached the point on the lake nearest the Red River. Then, with the assistance of Indian guides, they traversed the intervening forest, emerging on the Red River some distance north of Pembina. Then following the Red River northward until within a few miles of Fort Douglas, they struck out overland westward until they reached the Assiniboine at what is now St. James. There they hastily constructed light ladders, and the night being favourable for approaching the fort unobserved, they planted their ladders and climbed over the stockades before their presence was discovered. It was a clever and bloodless achievement, for when the Nor’-Westers found regular soldiers (simakunissuk) within the fort, they threw down their arms and betook themselves to their houses.

Many hard things have been said and written about the De Meurons; but let this clever capture of Fort Douglas, and a few other of their military achievements always be remembered to their credit. Even in these days when military operations are conducted in, on and through earth, air and sea, the exploit of Captain D’Orsonnen and his De Meurons in the capture of Fort Douglas, would be considered a clever performance; and need it be said, that at the time it occurred and long afterwards, it was spoken of as a famous military feat.

As may be supposed, news of the exploit of the De Meurons was nowhere hailed with more delight than at Jack River, where the Colonists had been in exile for eight months. At once the able bodied among them returned over snow and ice to Fort Douglas; and the rest of them followed on the opening of navigation in the month of June, arriving there about the same time as Lord Selkirk.

The first detachment from Jack River, aided by the De Meuron detachment which captured the fort, kept their hoes going so industriously that by the time the other contingents arrived from the north and east, numerous fair sized patches of land had been seeded to wheat, barley and potatoes. And a very good thing too that they had seed to sow, and that they sowed it before they were tempted to eat it, for after the other crowd arrived there followed about two months of food shortage, during which period the available supply of fish, fowl or anything else edible was at times painfully inadequate.

Had Lord Selkirk treated his Colonists unfairly, they must have found it out by this time, and now was their chance to say so; but there is no evidence of their having made any complaints. Their attitude and behaviour was that of persons who gave him credit for having acted disinterestedly, and who placed unabated confidence in his word, and were hopeful that his efforts would yet be crowned with success, and that there were happier days in store for them all. Not the faintest hint is there that from the hour of his arrival to that of his departure there was any expression of feeling between them other than that of a kindly and pleasant character.

While in the settlement Lord Selkirk did all in his power to encourage the Colonists, and to make their position as secure as possible. To this end he made a treaty with the Indians, thereby extinguishing their title to a choice strip of country contained within the larger tract that he had purchased from the Hudson’s Bay Company. In response to his invitation a large number of Indians assembled at Fort Douglas, and after they had done ample justice to his Lordship’s bags of pemmican and rolls of tobacco, he proceeded in state to the place of conference, accompanied by as many officers as were attached to his expedition or connected with the fort. In the eyes of these simple people it was doubtless a most magnificent display, far out-classing that of Duncan Cameron and his kilts. So favourable was the impression made on his confreres, that they always spoke of him afterwards as the “Silver Chief”—a compliment to his fine presence and pleasing address. One chief only was averse to the proposed treaty, but his objections were over-ruled by the others, among whom the most influential was Peguis, who was far famed for his eloquence and good sense, and his friendship for the whites.

After much speech-making, an agreement was duly drawn up and executed. It was dated July 18th, in the 57th year of the reign of George III., and in the year of our Lord 1817, and was made between the Chief and Warriors of the Chippeway or Saulteaux Nation and of the Killistino or Cree Nation on the one part, and the Right Honourable Thomas, Earl of Selkirk, on the other part: “Witnesseth that for the annual present or quit-rent hereinafter mentioned, and so forth. . . . .” Then it goes on to describe the land as being made over to the King for the use of Lord Selkirk, and consisting of a two mile strip on each side of the Red and Assiniboine Rivers, beginning from the mouth of the Red, and extending southwards to the Grand Forks on the said Red River, and along the Assiniboine beginning from its junction with the Red and thence westward to the mouth of the Muskrat River, otherwise called Riviere de Champignons, and at three points this distance from the river was to be increased to a radius of six miles. Those points being Fort Douglas, Fort Daer and Grand Forks. And the presents or quit-rent to be annually paid were as follows: “To the Chiefs and Warriors of the Chippeway or Saulteaux Nation, one hundred pounds of good marketable tobacco to be delivered on or before the 10th day of October at Fort Douglas; and to the Chiefs and Warriors of Killistino or Cree Nation a like present or quit-claim of one hundred pounds of tobacco, to be delivered on or before the 10th day of October, at Portage la Prairie, on the banks of the Assiniboine River.”

Signed) Each by his mark. (Signed) SELKIRK.

The five Chiefs, viz.:

Oukidoat, Big Ears.

Rayagie Rebmoa, alias Black Robe.

Muchiwikoab.

Muckitooukoonace.

Peguis.

Witnesses:

Thomas Thomas.

James Bird.

F. Matthey, Captain.

D’Orsonnen, Captain.

J. Bate.

Chas. de Lorimier.

Louis Nolin (Interpreter).

The distance of two miles was explained to the Indians as being as far as a horse could be distinctly seen, or daylight be discerned under his belly or between his legs.

Having thus ensured to his Colonists the safe tenure of their homesteads, he next invited them to meet him on a stated day in August at a certain spot on the west bank of the Red River. That spot was the one on which now stands St. John’s Cathedral. There he spoke to them reassuringly, and showed that he was anxious as ever to promote their welfare, by placing them in possession of homes from which no man would have the right or the power to expel them. Though he was suffering like themselves from interference with his plans that could not have been foreseen, he did not shirk the keeping of any pledge he had given, but considering their circumstances rather than his own, he went further than his pledges. And he told them that as some compensation for the hardships they had experienced, instead of charging them five shillings an acre for the one hundred acres that each settler was to be allowed, that was changed, and every settler would receive that quantity of land free.

Reminded of his promise of a minister of their own faith, he told them that “Selkirk always kept his word,” and that the promise would be fulfilled, and in connection with it, he there and then made them a present of two lots, each having a frontage on the river of ten chains. According to Mr. Gunn’s history, he said: “This lot on which we are met today shall be for your church and manse, the next lot, on the south side of the creek, shall be for your school and for a help to support your teacher, and, in commemoration of your native parish, it shall be called Kildonan.”

About the time of Lord Selkirk’s visit it was being generally realized in England and Canada, that the situation in the Red River country and North-West territories seriously demanded a change, and that there would have to be established a more British way of administering justice than had been practised by the two fur trading companies in their treatment of each other. So convinced were the companies themselves that such a change was necessary, that they had each been asking for some time for Government intervention, by way of protection from the aggressiveness of the other; and after the Seven Oaks tragedy, followed by the severe exercise of magisterial authority at Fort William, both the Imperial and Canadian Governments saw that the requests for intervention could not well be any longer ignored.

As the disorders complained of had occurred in what was designated as Indian territory, and an Imperial enactment of 1803 placed the responsibility of maintaining order in such territory upon the Canadian Government, it lay within its province to straighten out the existing tangle; but on account of the preponderating British influence in the one company, and of the Canadian in the other, as well because of the seriousness of the crisis, it was fitting that both governments should bestir themselves in the matter, in order that the ruling given might carry the weight and authority of both, and be more readily accepted as impartial; accordingly the Colonial Secretary, the Earl of Bathurst, wrote to the Governor-General of Canada instructing him to ascertain the causes of so much trouble, and to see that the one company did not deny to the other the right of trade or the right to use any road that it might care to follow in pursuit of its trade; also that any authority previously conferred to act as magistrate or sheriff, be for the time recalled, and that restoration or compensation be made for any act of robbery or spoliation that may have been committed.

The Governor-General at once set about carrying out these instructions, appointing as a commissioner Colonel Coltman and Major Fletcher, the latter having had wide experience in matters of law. These gentlemen reached the Colony while Lord Selkirk was still there, and were greatly assisted by him in carrying out their instructions. Colonel Coltman afterwards admitted that he had expected to find in Lord Selkirk a man of despotic disposition, and that he was pleasantly disappointed to find him such an agreeable companion, and that as he came to know him better he rose very much in his estimation.

When Colonel Coltman returned to Canada he found that legal proceedings were being taken by the North-West Company against Lord Selkirk for damage to its business sustained through his actions, when exercising his magisterial powers at Fort William. Had Colonel Coltman’s advice been taken these proceedings would have been dropped, and an attempt made to persuade the two companies to enter into some agreement whereby they might succeed in working together in harmony. Instead, the law suits were persisted in, and in addition to the expense connected therewith Lord Selkirk was mulcted in the sum of £2,000.

For six years he had been engaged in the effort to better the condition of his poor fellow countrymen by assisting them to find homes in the New World; and when he had stood among the remnants of them on the banks of the Red River, they were not able to cheer him by pointing to any signs of prosperity, though they had cost him $1,000,000. Add to this the worry of litigation in the Canadian law courts, the misconception of many as to the purity and disinterestedness of his motives and the thwarting of his efforts to bring the perpetrators of the crime at Seven Oaks to justice, and the unbiassed student of history must admit that in his generation he was thoroughly misunderstood. Therefore, it is for this and coming generations to correct that injustice of the past, and to see to it that his name is handed down to posterity as that of a philanthropist whose services to this country of ours should ever be held in the highest esteem. The writer endorses the opinion of Mr. G. Mercer Adams who, in his history of the North-West, writes of Lord Selkirk and his trials: “Justice at the period had either departed from the country, or had become afflicted with a serious moral and ‘physical squint.’ ”

THE HUDSON’S BAY COMPANY

The history of the Red River Settlement during that period when Lord Selkirk was connected with the Hudson’s Bay Company is sometimes rather puzzling, for the reason that while his colonizing scheme was his personal undertaking and paid its own way with his assistance, it was being carried on in the same place, side by side with the fur trade and with an equipment common to both, a condition of things accounted for by Lord Selkirk’s large ownership of Hudson’s Bay stock, and the resulting influence that he could bring to bear on their policy. The connection was that of two arms belonging to the same body, and whichever part of the body the Nor’-Westers might hit, an arm was pretty sure to retaliate, but which one it was difficult to say. For instance, when Lord Selkirk returned to England in 1817, suffering no doubt from the effects of the “moral squint” of the Canadian law courts, it was not the colonizing arm of the body that in the following year reached out and hit the Nor’-Westers a staggering blow. The arm that did that was the one that attended to the fur trade—the one that religiously carried out the cutem per cutem policy of the company. It struck the blow; which like most other blows—probably had not much behind it of the spirit that quickeneth.

It was in 1818 that Mr. William Williams came from England to take charge of the fur trade in Rupert’s Land, and after spending a winter at Cumberland House, in the Saskatchewan district, proceeded in the spring to the Red River Settlement. He was a naval captain, who had been in the service of the East India Company; and he was now prepared to give the Hudson’s Bay Company the benefit of his training and experience. He undertook an expedition against the Nor’-Westers for which very likely preparations had been made during the winter, for when he arrived in the Settlement, among the boats found in readiness was one so constructed that it could be equipped with small cannon. The boats were manned by De Meurons and Hudson’s Bay Company employees, and left the Colony in time to reach the Grand Rapids of the Saskatchewan River near its outlet into Lake Winnipeg before the Nor’-Westers could do so, in order that when they arrived in their boats loaded with furs collected at their northern outposts, he and his De Meurons would be in readiness to intercept them. He had certainly selected a place well suited to his purpose, and there he landed two field pieces, placing them at points of vantage, where they could be trained either on the river or the path leading across the portage. The little fleet was safely tied up behind an island, and the various crews assigned places of concealment where they were to remain in perfect silence. But before they dispersed Governor Williams read the Hudson’s Bay Charter to them, and impressed upon them the great advantages that would accrue to the company if its provisions were loyally carried out. He told them that it was easily noticeable from the Imperial document just read, that the North-West Company were intruding upon the rights of the Hudson’s Bay Company in carrying on a fur trading business in Rupert’s Land, and that the present expedition was undertaken for the purpose of putting a stop to their nefarious traffic. Their leaders were to be arrested and sent to England or to Eastern Canada for trial, and if they offered resistance it would be so much the worse for themselves. He had not long finished the reading of the Hudson’s Bay Charter, and given the exposition when the Nor’-Wester brigades commenced to arrive, and the officers in charge commenced to walk over the portage, but they had not gone far when suddenly they discovered that they had walked into a trap, the formidable character of which they soon realized when they recognized the De Meurons and saw the cannon. Quickly realizing that the odds were against them, and that resistance would be rash, they surrendered unconditionally. Governor Williams then ordered the arrest of the officials and a number of the others, and they were sent to York Factory, there to be held as prisoners awaiting the sailing of the Hudson’s Bay vessels. Among those arrested were Messrs. Angus Shaw and John George McTavish, who were sent to England; and Mr. John Duncan, who with some others, was sent to Montreal via Fort Moose and the Ottawa River; and the others, among whom was a Mr. Frobisher, while being detained indefinitely at York Factory, succeeded in making their escape in the month of October, and made off in a canoe in the direction of the Red River Settlement. While skirting the eastern shore of Lake Winnipeg in the month of November, the ice formed on the lake compelling them to abandon their canoe and to continue their journey afoot. While journeying along slowly and painfully in this manner, a terrible storm occurred which compelled them to remain in their miserable hut for several days. While there Mr. Frobisher died, and the others, leaving his body unburied, saved themselves by dragging along a few days more till they reached a trading post of the North-West Company situated on Moose Lake.

How utterly absurd it does seem that two great companies, whose leaders were men of ability and education, should have conducted their business in such a spirit of hostility one against the other year after year for several decades, until at length they found themselves both on the verge of financial ruin. One would think that they might sooner have discovered that there is more gold in the observance of the golden rule than in the undermining of one’s neighbour. The writer believes that they made that valuable discovery at last, not only because they united but more especially because their union led the way to moral and material advancement throughout the length and breadth of the land.

In the same summer that Governor Williams with his De Meurons gained a bloodless victory over the Nor’-Westers, an army more formidable than his invaded the Selkirk Colony on the 18th day of July, in the form of a vast swarm of grasshoppers that fell on the little fields of the settlers, and in a short time did very serious damage. Later in the season they deposited their ova, which in the spring of 1819 developed into a crop of sturdy young hoppers that devoured the grain and vegetable crops while they were nice and tender. As soon as these country bred grasshoppers had grown their wings, they spread them and sailed away from the country; but not long had they been gone when another army took their place in the field, and, so to speak, entrenched themselves, and deposited ova in readiness for 1820. These eggs after undergoing the usual eight months cold storage developed during the warmth of the spring into living creatures whose leaps and bounds showed that they were true to type and ready for another crop—but the crop was not there—the Colonists had not been able to procure seed, so the little bounders got a set-back, and just as if they were capable of taking the welfare of their progeny into consideration, no ova were deposited in the Red River soil that season. The Colonists, we may be sure, noted the omission with pleasure, and felt sufficiently encouraged once more to look out for seed; so a party was organized for the purpose under the leadership of a Mr. Laidlaw. This party left the Colony for the United States in February, 1821. They travelled on snow-shoes to Prairie de Chien, where they succeeded in buying two hundred and fifty bushels of wheat at ten shillings a bushel. Placing their purchase in flat-boats they floated down the Red River to the Colony, arriving there after an absence of three months. As two hundred and fifty bushels would hardly be sufficient to sow one quarter section, and as a passing swarm of grasshoppers took toll out of the crops, the grain threshed out in the fall was not much more than sufficient for seed in the following spring, therefore the Colonists once more had to spend a winter at Pembina. But happier days were now come, and they began to get more pleasure out of life, and soon the happy and prosperous conditions prevailing in the Colony furnished pleasing evidence of what they were capable of accomplishing when free from the menace of ill-disposed men and voracious grasshoppers.

This happy change took place too late to gladden the heart of Lord Selkirk, for he had died two years before. His health had commenced to fail following his return to England after the litigation in the Canadian law courts. To him possibly it sometimes looked as if his great personal undertaking had been a colossal failure, but to those who have studied his life free from prejudice, it is conceivable that as the end approached he calmly looked into the future, drawing comfort from the reflection that he had loved his fellow-countrymen, and that the finest investment he had made, and the grandest success in life was in connection with the one million dollars he had spent on their account. He died at Pau, in the south of France, April 8th, 1820, surrounded by the members of his family.

Some great change often follows the removal by death of a great man of strong personality. Thus the death of Simon McTavish was shortly followed by the union of the N. W. and X Y Companies, and now the death of Lord Selkirk was soon followed by the union of the North-West and Hudson’s Bay Companies, which amalgamated on the 26th March, 1821.

The selection of the most suitable name for the reconstructed and united company was settled in harmony with the law of the survival of the fittest by the retention of the name of one of the absorbed concerns, whose legal status, splendid inheritance and no mean sentimental support were all closely connected with its name and title—that of the Honourable Hudson’s Bay Company—the name of the enterprising corporation which had sprung into existence in the company of those famous adventurers, Radisson and Groseillers and Prince Rupert, and whose history was that of a monopoly which for one hundred and fifty years had enjoyed Imperial patronage, and which from all appearances might be expected to continue in the same favoured position for many years to come, with the prospect of larger results, when the two companies before trading in rivalry, were united, and with combined wealth and energy, were availing themselves of the rights and privileges secured to them by the famous Hudson’s Bay Charter.

In the reorganized Hudson’s Bay Company there was necessarily considerable change; the capital, for instance, was raised to £400,000, which was done by the old Hudson’s Bay Company increasing its previous capital from £100,000 to £200,000, so that it would contribute an equal share to the stock or capital of the new company. In the new as in the former company, there were two arms of service—the capitalistic and the labor—the former providing the stock or goods and the other doing the work. The stock was divided into one hundred shares. Of these the subscribers retained sixty for themselves, and the remaining forty were to be divided between the officials residing in and conducting the fur trade in Rupert’s Land. These officials were divided into two classes commissioned and non-commissioned—the non-commissioned consisting of clerks and postmasters, who were paid by salary. The commissioned officers were paid from the dividends accruing from the forty shares before mentioned. Promotion to the rank of commissioned officer raised the official to the honoured rank of Chief Trader, and a second promotion to that of Chief Factor. The participants in these forty shares were commonly spoken of as “wintering partners,” a name perhaps suggested by the frigid regions in which their duties were performed; or possibly conveying a hint of their being left out in the cold, in the event of dividends accruing that were not strictly profits on the fur trade.

The forty shares aforementioned were divided into eighty-four smaller ones so as to correspond to the number of chief factors and chief traders who were to be maintained in full number as the company’s staff of wintering partners; and a chief trader received as his income the proceeds of one share, and a chief factor the proceeds of two. The commissioned officers were ex-officio members of the council for the fur trade. At the meetings of this council promotions were made, and retirements arranged for. A retiring commissioned officer received a full share for one year after retirement, and a half share for six years afterwards. All this was duly provided for in a legal document known as the poll tax.

From this out the history of the Hudson’s Bay Company is that of a powerful corporation in a far better position to insist on its rights than it had been before; and it might well be expected that there would be no important deviation from its former policy, since the company which had joined it, had shown when acting as opponent, that it was dominated by an equally monopolistic spirit. From the nature of the case it did not seem likely that the coalition company would be more modest than either of the old, or that it would try to do business on a higher plane. However, after having suffered so much affliction at each others’ hands, they appeared to appreciate a rest. It was a good time to pause and reflect how best to start afresh; and perhaps during that pause, the dead spoke—among them the gentle Governor Semple, who met his tragic death at Seven Oaks, and who deploring the lack of Christian churches in the land had written: “I blush to say that throughout the whole extent of the Hudson’s Bay territories no such building exists.” And perchance a voice haunted them coming from the lonely eastern shore of Lake Winnipeg, where only two years before poor Frobisher had the life starved and frozen out of him, because the fur trading companies of the day had become victims to a consuming ambition. And forasmuch as Lord Selkirk was known to be a very sick man—in fact he died only shortly before the union was consummated—the philanthropic schemes to which he had devoted his life would appear to them now in a better light, and the hand of charity that covereth a multitude of sins, would draw a veil over his worst mistake—that of interpreting a contract or charter too much according to the letter that killeth, a mistake into which he had been helped by the well meant aid of some of them and provoked into by the bitter opposition of the others. Not strange, then, if after a pause, the business that was resumed under the old name was dominated by a better spirit, brought about not only from having observed the evil effects, in this land, of ignorance and strife, but also from the powerful effects of a religious revival which had recently taken place in the old land, and which had so great an effect on the political, social and religious life of the nation that every part of the British Empire participated in the benefit—that revival brought about by the earnest preaching and hymns of John and Charles Wesley, and the Evangelical movement which took practical shape in the formation of the Church Missionary Society, one of whose missionaries was the first to preach the gospel in Rupert’s Land.

All unconsciously a field was being made ready in this country for the sowing of the Word, while men in the Old Country were being made ready to come and open “First Furrows” in this field. It may well be “marvellous in our eyes,” that while it is true that this first missionary came out under the auspices of the Church Missionary Society, it was really the successors of the traders and adventurers who had come out one hundred and fifty years before to trade furs in Hudson’s Bay who were the prime movers in this first missionary venture into North-West America. For John West, first Protestant missionary, came out as Hudson’s Bay chaplain and in their pay.

It is not clear that his coming had anything to do with a promise which the Selkirk Colonists claimed had been made to them by Lord Selkirk of a Presbyterian minister who could speak Gaelic. The facts, as far as can be ascertained, do not make the matter quite clear. It is evident that Lord Selkirk did give two lots at St. John’s and that they were intended for the promised minister and a school whenever the said minister might be sent. When a minister was sent, he was an Anglican, who probably could not speak a word of Gaelic, and he was sent out conjointly by the Church Missionary Society and the Hudson’s Bay Company. Yet from the fact that he was located on the two lots at St. John’s, it would seem that the Hudson’s Bay officials were aware of Lord Selkirk’s promise, and were disposed to regard the Rev. John West as a proper substitute for a Presbyterian minister who could speak Gaelic. Sixteen years later, in 1836, when the company were purchasing the shares held by Lord Selkirk’s heirs, they claimed that there never had been an undertaking to provide a Presbyterian minister for the Colonists. However, it is pleasant to relate that the apparent miscarriage of Lord Selkirk’s good intentions did not lead to any hard feelings between the Anglicans and the Presbyterians; and that in 1851, when Rev. John Black came out to minister to the spiritual needs of the Selkirk settlers the matter was amicably arranged; the Anglicans retaining the land inadvertently turned over to them, while the Hudson’s Bay Company, in lieu thereof, made over to the Presbyterians the necessary land two miles lower down the river, also made them a gift of £150 and an annual grant of £50 towards the stipend of their ministers; and thus the Hudson’s Bay Company generously lived up to the spirit of the Earl of Selkirk’s good intentions, and all parties were satisfied.

Perhaps it should be conceded that the beginning of missionary work in this country was largely due to a desire on the part of some of its inhabitants for the means of education, using the word education in its popular acceptation. But the popular acceptation of the word in that day, it is much to be feared, has become much less popular in our day. Then the education or enlightenment fondly embraced a spiritual better half, from which it would now seem to be seriously contemplating a divorce. The astute officials of the Hudson’s Bay Company did not desire education for the country with the “spirit that quickeneth” left out of it. That kind of education that consists mainly in brain development they had applied for a century and a half in the endeavour to wrench the wealth of the country from their opponents, and well might they contemplate the effect with disgust—it had brought them to the verge of financial disaster, hearts had been broken, human blood shed and the condition of the natives was morally worse then when they first made their acquaintance. These business men did not blame their religion for what had happened. Doubtless they placed the blame where it was well merited, and were willing to support the claim of the Christian church—that wherever it is cordially received and its precepts are faithfully practised there peace and prosperity, contentment and happiness are bound to flourish. And so they materially assisted in the realization of the very general desire to have the gospel of Christ preached in the land. England as represented by the Anglican Church was glad to attend to this too long neglected duty; the settlers on the banks of the Red River were glad at the prospect of having again the privileges they had enjoyed in the older land; and even among the Indians were some, who perhaps having visualized the crucified one through the representations of a few of his faithful followers declared themselves desirous of knowing more about him.

Before going any further I would like to correct an impression which has perhaps been unintentionally conveyed by some writers, to the effect that all non-Christian people are, and must be utterly bad until they receive the Christian religion, but once they have done so, though it may be only formally, they are at once vastly improved. It is a mistake to create any such impression, and is unfair both to the Christian religion and to the nations that have not accepted it.

When Rev. John West came to this country there were already a considerable number of Christians in it, and some of them very truly goodly people. To begin with, there were the one hundred and thirty Colonists settled on the banks of the Red River. Then northwards from these along the left bank of the Red River, retired Hudson’s Bay Company employees were beginning to settle, and shortly after the union of the companies their number exceeded that of the Selkirk settlers. Some were Scottish, some were English and others were of mixed race. Among both these classes of settlers there were honourable and pious men, men who had religion in the Old Country and brought it out with them; men who had their bibles and read them; and some of them had never given up the Godly custom of family worship. Even among the usually condemned De Meurons and Swiss, peradventure there were to be found a few righteous men, and as to the Indian tribes, granted that they were all heathen, there was as great diversity of character among them as among the whites, and when they first came into contact with the whites, it was simply a matter of opinion as to which race excelled in honesty and morality. Conditions were bad enough without trying to make out that they were worse. Darkness certainly hung over the land; but it augured well for the future that the darkness was felt, and that light was desired.

It was in response to this very general desire that the Rev. John West came out to this country—the pioneer missionary in the cause of Christian civilization. Mr. George Harbidge came out at the same time as school teacher.

On landing at York Factory Mr. West began to plan and prepare for a school in the Red River Settlement, where the children of Hudson’s Bay employees or Settlers could be educated, and where also Indian lads could be trained and sent out as teachers to their fellow-countrymen. When he left York Factory in a birch bark canoe for the eight hundred miles journey to the Red River Settlement, among his companions was a small nucleus of the contemplated Indian school in the person of a Cree boy, son of Withaweecapo; and at Norway House, three hundred miles from the Settlement, a second Cree pupil was taken aboard. In this manner there were gathered as many as ten Indian boys, two of them coming from a tribe living west of the Rocky Mountains. Four of these afterwards did good work in the Mission field, viz.: Rev. Henry Budd, who founded a Mission at Cumberland, on the Saskatchewan; Rev. James Settee, who a little later established a Mission at Lac la Ronge; John Hope, who, as Catechist, worked among the Cree Indians in the neighbourhood of Battleford; and Charles Pratt, who worked for many years among the Crees of Touchwood Hills. These native missionaries, with their simple faith, consistent lives and splendid knowledge of both the English and Cree languages, exerted a fine influence over the lives of their fellow-countrymen.

The writer was best acquainted with Mr. Settee, who not only did successful work at Lac la Ronge but afterwards did equally good work at widely different points as an itinerant missionary.

He was a fluent speaker in his own language—the Cree, but the delivery of a speech or sermon in English was always a laborious undertaking. On one occasion shortly after Archdeacon Cochrane had moved to Portage la Prairie and had built the Church and Parsonage by the river, he was visited by Mr. Settee, who spent a Sunday with him, and occupied the pulpit at the morning service. The elder members of the congregation were prepared to enjoy a rare treat, as they were themselves adepts in the Cree language, while we of the younger generation (the writer was ten years old) were delighted with the variation of a new occupant of the pulpit who would speak in a new tongue. The unexpected happened. Due either to the humorous vein in his makeup—or more likely to a mistaken notion as to the literary character of his audience, he did not address them in Cree, and not feeling at home in English, he escaped from the horns of a dilemma by reading them somebody else’s English, which was contained in a tract both dry and long, and which was more puzzling than edifying. Doubtless when he spoke to the Indians in the West End in the afternoon, he discarded the tract and spoke more attractively.

A good story is told in connection with a confirmation visit paid to Mr. Settee’s mission in winter by Bishop Machray. The mission-house, in which Mr. Settee dwelt, was Indian-like in simplicity, and had but one door. It happened that a few days previous to the Bishop’s arrival, Mr. Settee’s cow had brought forth a calf, and in order to improve its chances of living and thriving it was being domiciled in the mission-house until it should grow strong enough to stand the lower temperature of its legitimate quarters. Mr. Settee had planned in the hope that he would not have to entertain his Lordship and the calf under the same roof at the same time; but he was a poor planner, while his Lordship’s plans were always well made and promptly executed. Perhaps on this occasion his dog-train was just a trifle ahead of the schedule. At any rate, Mr. Settee had not yet attended to the transfer of the calf, when he was startled by the tinkle of sleigh bells, and glancing through the window he saw the Bishop being peeled of his buffaloes before getting out of the dog cariole. Rushing to the calf he proceeded to half drag, half thrust it towards the door, and just as he reached it the door was opened and the Bishop was announced. Imagine the situation—without, a Bishop of Lordly height—within, Mr. Settee, short, thick-set and very dark—between them, in the low doorway, a calf, two legs in and two out, possibly reminding his Lordship of the fatted calf served up on the return of the prodigal, while to poor Settee, it was likely suggestive of nothing in particular unless “matter out of place”; and he is perhaps to be pardoned, if in the desperate straits, he attempted to relieve the situation of something of its tenseness by saying to the Bishop: “My Lord, this is one of them.”

The following is one more story showing Mr. Settee’s weakness for a joke; and this time it was staged not in his own place but in the Bishop’s. The point in the anecdote is that Mr. Settee knew very well as did many others, that when his Lordship was seen in the company of ladies, it was when courtesy or the discharge of his duties, made it necessary; in fact, the opinion had been at different times expressed among his friends that he was shy in the presence of ladies. Mr. Settee had gone to call at the Bishop’s Court, and found the Bishop seated at his desk with one leg in a horizontal position. For years before his death, he suffered from phlebitis and his physician advised sitting with the ailing limb in this posture when reading or at study. Mr. Settee as a Missionary to the Indians doubtless would have had much experience in the healing of the sick, and he assured the Bishop on this occasion, that he knew of a remedy that was infallible. Laughing in his genial manner, the Bishop asked, “What is that?” “Skunk oil,” replied Mr. Settee, and then, folding his hands and looking very solemn, he sank his voice, and finishing in a whisper he said, “Only, my Lord, it must be rubbed in by a woman.” It is not on record that the Bishop ever tried Mr. Settee’s method of anointing with oil.

Returning now to Mr. West, we notice that he located at St. John’s. There he raised his first building which consisted of a schoolhouse, one end of which was portioned off so as to provide a dwelling place for Mr. Harbidge. The historian, Donald Gunn, who was a staunch Presbyterian, and not to be blamed for showing that he would have been better pleased if the John who came out West had been a Presbyterian, does not fail to give full credit to the founders of the first educational institution in this country. With praiseworthy candour he writes of the pupils who studied in this humble log edifice: “We are not prepared to say what progress they made, but this we will say, that the elementary school established by Mr. West for the instruction of a few Indian boys was the germ whence originated all the Protestant schools and colleges in Manitoba at the present time.”

For a few months after his arrival Mr. West did a thriving business in performing the marriage ceremony, for not only at German Creek where lived the De Meurons and Swiss, but in other localities were to be found husband and wife who had been made such only by civil contract, while other couples had attained to their oneness by an even more primitive, though it may be, none the less sacred usage, and all these gladly availed themselves of the opportunity of having the conjugal tie strengthened and blessed by ecclesiastical sanction.

When Mr. West had been three months in the country he made a journey westward by dog-train. He left Red River Settlement in January, 1821. Following the usual route, he would pass through this place, called then as at present, Portage la Prairie—the place where Archdeacon Cochrane thirty-two years later established St. Mary’s Church. Thence he went on to Brandon House, and from there to Beaver Creek, later called Fort Ellice. The journey occupied a month, and the distance travelled would be about five hundred and fifty miles. His ministrations were confined to the few English-speaking people belonging to the Hudson’s Bay forts. He was evidently more impressed with the beauties of the landscape, than with the beauty of the nature and practices of the Brandon and Beaver Creek residents, for he wrote:

“The heavens do indeed declare the glory of God, and day unto day uttereth speech; but in this wilderness the voice of God is not heard among the heathen, and his name is scarcely known among the Europeans except to be profaned.”

In the spring of the same year he made a journey to Fort Daer or Pembina, where as one of a number of delegates from the settlement he met in conference with the residents of that place to decide upon the best means of protection against an expected attack from the turbulent Sioux. In the summer of the same year he went with the company’s brigade of boats to York Factory. From Norway House to the end of the journey he enjoyed the company of Mr. Garry, a director of the Hudson’s Bay Company, a gentleman of high character and pleasant manner, who was visiting the country and negotiating the terms of amalgamation between the Hudson’s Bay and the North-West companies. He showed a lively interest in Mr. West’s plans, and favoured the establishment of a branch of the British and Foreign Bible Society in Rupert’s Land. On his return to England he interviewed the Society in the matter, and they consented to his proposal, and made the necessary grant of bibles, so that the next ship that sailed had on board enough bibles to start depositories at different centres in Rupert’s Land; and from that time to the present there has never been lacking a supply of bibles quite equal to the demand, and always at a low cost, and, when necessary, free.

In 1822 Mr. West again visited York Factory, where he met Sir John Franklin and Dr. Richardson who had returned from explorations in the North. These gentlemen were interested in evangelistic work, and gave Mr. West much valuable information about the Eskimo at Churchill and further north. Returning to Red River he continued his ministrations there for another year. During that time he had the satisfaction of seeing a small church completed, and also a dwelling house. His school, too, was thriving, and there was a marked improvement in the spiritual tone of the community.

In June, 1823, Mr. West left the Settlement, and went to England for his family. He never returned, for which failure, no quite satisfactory explanation has ever been attempted. It was supposed, however, that it was due to the disinclination of Mrs. West. In treading on this ground which other writers have usually avoided, the present writer would remark that, supposing the foregoing to be the correct explanation for Mr. West’s non-return, there would not thereby be furnished any justifiable reason for questioning the zeal or sincerity of either Mr. or Mrs. West. In regard to Mr. West himself, it is evident from the nature of his actions if not from actual promises, that he fully intended to return and continue much longer in the prosecution of the work he had so wisely planned and earnestly begun. His very last act before sailing from York Factory, viewed with candour, affords additional ground for such an opinion. He remembered the encouragement he had received the year before from Sir John Franklin for the opening of Missionary work among the Esquimaux at Fort Churchill; and finding when he reached York Factory that the ship from England had not arrived, he undertook a journey to Churchill on foot, a distance of two hundred miles. His road passed through a swampy country, infested day and night by voracious swarms of mosquitoes. Arriving at Churchill, he was able to address the Esquimaux through the interpreter who had served with Franklin. He was listened to attentively, and his hearers expressed the hope that a teacher might be sent to them. Returning to York Factory he found that the ship had arrived, and had brought out another Missionary, viz., David Jones, sent out by the Church Missionary Society to continue his work during his absence. The population of the Settlement had now more than doubled since the arrival of Mr. West, for once coalition of the companies had actually taken place, retiring Hudson’s Bay employees quickly settled up the lower banks of the Red River, making a parish of five or six hundred members, about enough for one clergyman to attend to as they were located on a strip along the banks of about fifteen miles in length. During the interval of four months between Mr. West’s departure and Mr. Jones arrival, these settlers showed that they valued the opportunity for public worship by holding weekly prayer meetings among themselves.

Mr. Jones does not seem to have been a man of very rugged constitution, and during his first winter in the country he had a hemorrhage of the lungs which weakened him considerably; but “it is the spirit that quickeneth,” and he was so heartened up by the blessed results attending his labours that he was able to do the work of a strong man, and to do it with pleasure.

When he had been a short time in the Settlement the church at St. John’s was found to be too small, so in 1824 he commenced building one a little north of Kildonan, which was opened in 1825, and which afterwards was sometimes referred to as St. Paul’s, sometimes as Middle Church. During the latter part of the two years that he was alone in the Settlement as a Missionary he held services of a Sunday in both of these churches.

The population of the Settlement was of a very heterogeneous character, and the various nationalities and tribes of which Mr. Jones’ congregations were composed filled the churches to their utmost capacity. He speaks of being much affected on one occasion, “at the manner in which the whole congregation, English, Scottish, Swiss, German, Canadian, Norwegians, Half-breeds and Indians, joined in singing ‘Crown Him Lord of All,’ little thinking,” he says, “when he first read the hymn in Welsh, in the account of the formation of the London Missionary Society, that it would be brought home to his heart with so much power in the American wilderness.”

Out of regard to the preferences of the Presbyterians, Mr. Jones did not restrict himself to the liturgy, but made free use of extemporary prayer, and although this concession which was made both by him and Archdeacon Cochrane, did not have the effect of making Anglicans out of the Presbyterians, it accomplished what was equally desirable—it enabled them to worship in harmony, and to live “in the unity of the Spirit and in the bond of peace.”

In 1902 the writer enjoyed pleasant and unlooked for evidence of the very Christian feeling that had prevailed between Mr. Jones and the members of his flock, with little regard as to whether they were Anglican or Presbyterian. Having occasion to return from Winnipeg to Portage la Prairie via Stonewall and Woodlands, being overtaken by night somewhere in the vicinity of the last named place, and seeing a light streaming out into the inky darkness from a house by the roadside, I called to obtain direction, with the result that an invitation was given, and thankfully accepted, to spend the night there. The bible used at family prayers was evidently highly prized by mine host Mr. Polson, for it was the bible Mr. Jones had used during his ministry in the Settlement and it had numerous marginal notes in his hand-writing and had been presented to Mr. Polson’s father by Mr. Jones when he was about leaving the country. It was very pleasing indeed—it was some more light “shining through the gloom and pointing to the skies”—to hear Mr. Polson speak of the affectionate esteem in which his father and the other Selkirk Colonists held Mr. Jones. In the kindly light we saw “footprints in the sands of time and took heart again.”

In 1825 an additional worker reached the Settlement in the person of the Reverend William Cochrane, who spent the last twelve years of his long and useful life in establishing the Christian Settlement of Portage la Prairie, during which period the writer sat under his preaching as boy and youth, and received life long impressions of his strong and simple faith and untiring energy; and now that those who were personally acquainted with this great pioneer are quickly passing away, and I myself have passed the allotted span, and I am the sole surviving member of those who composed his flock for the first two or three years after his arrival, realizing, too, that the published accounts of his founding of St. Mary’s Church and the settlement of Portage la Prairie are altogether too meagre, and that it is becoming increasingly difficult to supplement those accounts with authentic information, it seemed good to me while the night is coming nearer, to add my humble quota to what has been already written, so that in the aggregate there may be records of his work that will be in some measure commensurate with its importance.

Mr. William Cochrane was born in Chillingham, Northumberland, in 1798. He was ordained deacon in 1824 and priest in 1825. During his first year in the Colony he and Mr. Jones worked St. John’s and Middle Church conjointly, but in 1826 Mr. Jones went on a visit to England, thus escaping the great flood, when many of the houses on the Settlement floated away, while their owners were camped out on the plains at Birds Hill and other high places.

When Mr. Jones returned from England in 1827, it was arranged that he should take entire charge of the work at St. John’s and Middle Church. Being thus relieved, Mr. Cochrane moved to “The Rapids,” which is ten miles below or downstream from Middle Church, and there he established a new centre, and completed the erection of a wooden church by the year 1832, after which the locality was frequently called the Lower Church. This first church was used till 1849, when the large stone church built to replace it was opened. Bishop Anderson, first bishop in the country, arrived the same year, and his first public act was the consecration of this new church. It is still in a good state of preservation, and having been partially overhauled preparatory to the centenary celebration of last summer (1920), it presented a fine appearance when, on the first day of the celebration, a beautiful day in October, it was visited by a large number of people from Winnipeg and other places who, after a simple but impressive service within its precincts, moved without, and standing in God’s acre joined again in prayer, after which a garland of flowers was laid on the grave of Archdeacon Cochrane, the great builder of churches both in the spiritual as well as material sense.

Mr. Cochrane’s services at Lower Church or St. Andrew’s were usually attended by a goodly sprinkling of Indians; but as the services were in English, and for that reason not very profitable to them, he decided to extend his efforts still further downstream, and form an Indian settlement there so that they could enjoy near home, services which could be held in their own tongue. To carry out this plan, as soon as he had completed the wooden church at St. Andrew’s in 1832, he commenced to assist the Indians to form a settlement of their own at or near the place where St. Peter’s Church now stands. The beginning he made there was in line with his usual policy—that of encouraging the Indians to abandon their wandering habits sufficiently at any rate to become tillers of the soil and to enable them to have their children taught.

The work Mr. Cochrane did in establishing the church at St. Peter’s was in itself sufficient for one man; but when it is considered that he undertook this in addition to his work at Upper Church, where he took two services every Sunday, remembering, too, that the two places are ten miles apart and that in passing from one to the other the choice of routes was between the river and an Indian footpath through the bush, it might well be said that the man who undertook such a two-man job and carried it to a successful issue must have been gigantic not only as to physical strength but in enthusiasm, will-power and energy; and anyone who knew Rev. Wm. Cochrane could say all that about him and feel that he was not exaggerating even a little.

He set about the opening of first furrows at St. Peter’s in the following manner. He took two men, a yoke of oxen and plough and harrows; and for a number of weeks he kept these and himself busy during five days of the week, returning on the Saturday to St. Andrew’s to attend to the Sunday duties there, and getting back to work at St. Peter’s on the Monday; and by working in this way, and by supplying seed as well as labour, he succeeded that year in converting seven Indians into little farmers—not very large results, it is true, but being followed up by Mr. Cochrane’s untiring energy, they proved the turning point for that band of Indians from a wandering to a settled mode of life, in which their evangelization became more possible. During the weeks that he was initiating his proteges into the mysteries of agriculture, he lived in his own tepee or lodge, which was made of the dressed hides of buffalo or moose.

The following description of Mr. Cochrane’s experiences at this time is taken from a little volume, “The Rainbow of the North,” by Mr. Tucker:

“At this time there were about two hundred Indians in the encampment, but he could only prevail upon seven of them to attempt cultivation, and even these could not be depended on. If the weather were bad they would not stir from their tents, and if fine they were as likely to set off on a fishing expedition as to assist in clearing the ground for their own crops.

“One accident is too characteristic to be omitted. Some of the ground was prepared, and Mr. Cochrane wished to send to the Rapids for the seed. He applied to the chief for two of the young men to take a canoe and fetch it, while he would ride home and prepare it for them; but though it was for their own use, not one would move, till at last one of the sons of the chief offered to ride Mr. Cochrane’s horse if he would take charge of the canoe. Unmoved by the rudeness of this proposal, Mr. Cochrane acceded to it, and in a moment the lad was mounted, his blanket thrown over his right shoulder, his hair adorned with a narrow riband, streaming behind his back, while his heels were busily employed in urging the horse to its utmost speed. Off he flew as proud as possible, and was out of sight in an instant among the tall poplars, leaving Mr. Cochrane and his servant to paddle the canoe fifteen miles to fetch seed for his own people.

“Thus it went on day after day, till there was as much seed sown as there was ground prepared to receive it, Mr. Cochrane, taking every opportunity of bringing forward some portion of Divine Truth, here a little and there a little, as his hearers could bear it.

“Much as Mr. Cochrane suffered from fatigue and anxiety, and occasionally from cold and want of proper food, this residence at Netley Creek was not without its use. It not only brought him to a more intimate acquaintance with the minds and habits of the Indians, but it enabled him to form a more just and encouraging estimate of the work that was going on in his own congregation.

“When at home,” he says, “and seeing the inconsistencies of some of my flock, I am apt to imagine that things are going badly with us, and I ask ‘Is the Lord among us or not?’ but when I go to Netley Creek and see the inhabitant of the forest with the miserable blanket wrapped round him; or when I witness the emblems of terror painted on many a face, or hear the woods resound with the terrible notes of the war-song, then I can see that the Lord has done great things for us, whereof we will rejoice. Such were some of my own people, and such, but for Divine grace, might we all have been.”

And again, “night and day do the woods of Netley Creek resound with the deadening sounds of conjurer’s drum and rattle. Every time he strikes his drum regularly and steadily as the ticking of a clock, and shouts his dismal ‘ho, ho, ho,’ I feel my spirit sink and an Indian apathy seems to come over my whole frame. But when on Saturday afternoon I return to my dear family, and comfortable home, all my better feelings are brought back again. One day in the house of God is better than a thousand; and my Sunday services with my devout and increasing congregation (now about two hundred and fifty) make me forget the toils, the griefs, the gloomy thoughts of the week and prepare me for the troubles of the next.”

The summer of 1832 was not favourable to the potato crop which was injured by a frost in August, and discouraged the Indians just when they were beginning to enjoy the first fruits of their somewhat erratic and conscripted labours. The barley harvest which commenced September 3rd was more encouraging, and the seven farming Indians got good returns. Four of them at once commenced to feed all the Indians in sight—about two hundred—and in a few weeks the supply was exhausted. The other three were wiser, and made their barley last pretty well through the winter. Encouraged by the success attending the first trial, fourteen Indians went in for farming in 1833, and from that year till 1853 the list of Indian farmers steadily increased so that when Mr. Cochrane left to take up work at Portage la Prairie, at the last named date, practically all the Indians were farmers after the humble fashion of those days.

In 1834 Sugar Point was chosen as a more suitable centre for the Indian Settlement, and in that year the Indians were not only cheerfully going in for farming, but made a beginning in building themselves cottages instead of living in wigwams. A beginning was also made in the education of the children. A school was built and the children who attended received a substantial meal daily on the five school days of the week. Mr. Cochrane was fortunate in securing as teacher and manager of this institution a Mr. Cook, who not only had a perfect knowledge of the Cree, but also thoroughly understood the habits and peculiarities of the Indians, and best of all was of a kindly disposition and sincerely desirous of using his knowledge to the best interests of his pupils.

In Christianizing the Indians according to Mr. Cochrane’s methods the same difficulty was encountered that still confronts those who would promote the comfort and welfare of the Indian, by taking him from his wandering tent and placing him in a stationary dwelling house, for in that transition from the well-ventilated almost open-air life in the flimsy tent which can be easily moved to a clean spot, to the pent-up quarters in a house or cottage that has to remain where it is built, there lurks a deadly menace to the vitality of the poor Indian. Mr. Cook was fully aware of all this and watched his pupils carefully, and soon as he noticed any of them losing in flesh or vigour they were at once encouraged to go fishing or hunting with their parents, yet notwithstanding these precautions there were several deaths from consumption.

By the year 1836 Mr. Cochrane had the usual complement of mission buildings at St. Peter’s, consisting of a school, parsonage and a church.

In 1838 the Rev. D. T. Jones returned to England. Mrs. Jones had died at St. John’s two years before, and it was noticed that he suffered very keenly over the loss. She had worked hard, and done very good work in connection with a ladies’ school at St. John’s, which was known as the Red River Academy. She was beloved by her pupils, and a tablet on the walls of St. John’s Cathedral bears testimony to this fact:

When Mr. Jones left for England he had been fifteen years in the country and for the last thirteen he and Mr. Cochrane were the only clergymen in the settlement, Mr. Jones being in charge of St. John’s and St. Paul’s and Mr. Cochrane, of St. Andrew’s and St. Peter’s. When Mr. Jones left, “the care of all the churches” devolved upon Mr. Cochrane, and for fourteen months he was in sole charge of the Upper, Middle, Lower and St. Peter’s (Lowest?) Churches.

Even in these days of good roads and quick, comfortable means of locomotion, no one man would be called upon, except in an emergency, to attend to the spiritual needs of a population of sixteen or seventeen hundred souls, settled over a stretch of country some thirty miles in length. But Mr. Cochrane seemed to accomplish the harder things of his day and to do so without stretching himself beyond measure. It was all in the day’s work, and his strength was in accordance. It was work which in the Providence of God his hand found to do, and he did it with his might as unto the Lord, and the Lord blessed his work and made it a success, so answering the prayer with which Mr. Cochrane always closed his sermons—“May the Lord bless His word for His Name’s sake.”

In 1839, arrived Mr. John Smithurst, who relieved Mr. Cochrane of the Indian work at St. Peter’s; but he still continued in charge of the other three places until 1841, when Mr. Abraham Cowley arrived and took charge of Middle Church; but as he was not in priest’s orders, Mr. Cochrane remained officially priest in charge of both St. John’s and Middle Church till 1844, in which year Bishop Mountain of Montreal paid Rupert’s Land an episcopal visit, and Mr. Cowley was admitted to priest’s orders, and, at the same time, Mr. John McCallum, who had been for some time conducting the St. John’s Academy, was admitted both to the diaconate and priesthood.

By these ordinations Mr. Cochrane was set free to concentrate his energies on the work in his own parish of St. Andrew’s, the first result of which was his decision to prepare for the erection of a church commensurate with the size of the congregation, which was now regularly overcrowding the wooden church built in 1831-32. It may here be noted that this larger church had to be looked forward to for five years; and it is much better to have a congregation singing for five years, in realization as well as anticipation, “We’ll crowd Thy gates with joyful praise,” than to make haste to build a church so big that it is only at the opening that any crowding takes place, and so costly, that within its precincts may be heard discordant strains over the tune of who’s to pay, so different from the restful harmony that prevailed in the humbler edifice.

In 1846 the arrival of Mr. Robert James enabled Mr. Cochrane to take a year of much needed rest; and this he spent in the city of Toronto.

Before leaving for this furlough Mr. Cochrane had commenced collecting material for the new church. Considering the conditions of the time, the erection of a large stone church was certainly a huge undertaking; and it strained Mr. Cochrane’s resources to the utmost. Among acceptable contributions mentioned is one of £50 from a Hudson’s Bay officer, and one of £30 received through his son Thomas then studying at Oxford University, in England; this sum being raised by a sympathizing English clergyman.

When he returned from Canada in 1847, the Hudson’s Bay Company offered him a chaplaincy in connection with the Incumbency of the Upper Church. This he accepted and remained in charge there till 1850. It does not seem as if the last appointment clashed with his work at St. Andrew’s, for we find him continuing the building of the stone church there, nor does it seem that his building operations at St. Andrew’s prevented him from doing some building at St. John’s also, for there he erected what was quite a pretentious building in its day, and it was known as St. Cross, and used as a ladies’ school.

Rev. John McCallum dying in 1849, Mr. Cochrane was for a time in sole charge of the parish; but in the same year arrived Bishop David Anderson, first Bishop of Rupert’s Land, who relieved him of part of his work. By this time the stone church at St. Andrew’s was finished, and its consecration by Bishop Anderson on a Sunday soon after his arrival was about his first episcopal act in the diocese.

Mr. Joseph Hargrave, in his history of the Red River Settlement thus writes of this church building achievement:

“Mainly through the instrumentality of the Incumbent who superintended every detail of the work, from the management of the subscription list to the quarrying of the stone and the construction of the building, the finest and most substantial of the Churches of the Colony was finished in time to be consecrated by the first Bishop of Rupert’s Land, immediately on his arrival in the country in 1849. It is gratifying to be able to state that about eight-ninths of the cost of the church was defrayed by money and material contributed by the people resident on the spot.”

In the same year that this church was opened Mr. Smithurst returned to England, and St. Peter’s was left vacant. As St. Andrew’s was supplied with a competent pastor in the person of Mr. James, and as Bishop Anderson undertook to discharge parochial duties connected with the Cathedral parish of St. John’s, Archdeacon Cochrane, not so long before in charge of all the churches, was for a brief hour in charge of none, so he once more turned his attention to St. Peter’s, and filled up the gap there, most likely with the full intention of putting the work on as solid a basis as that at St. Andrew’s. At any rate, after having been away from this Indian parish since 1836, we find him again at work there in 1850, and as before, he was fortunate enough to have the assistance of lay-helpers, who thoroughly understood the Indians and their language. Thus though the Archdeacon never learned their language, he was always able to conduct his services with them in an interesting and edifying manner—indeed it is an open question as to whether the Missionary gains anything by speaking directly to an illiterate people when he can command the services of an interpreter who is a good interpreter in every sense of the word, and for that matter it is characteristic of others besides poor Lo, to think the more of a man when he can be approached only through someone else.

When the Archdeacon went from St. John’s to St. Peter’s, he soon discovered that the wooden church erected by him in 1836 had become too small for the congregation, and so as at St. Andrew’s, he built a larger, and built of stone.

In taking charge for a second term of the work at St. Peter’s, it would look as if he did so intending to stay only long enough to put things in good working order, and then to move on again to some place where his services would be more needed. This view receives support from the fact that when he had been a year at St. Peter’s he made a journey to Portage la Prairie, to ascertain from personal investigation whether conditions there called for, or would warrant the establishment of a mission. Evidently he was very well satisfied with what he saw, for after completing a fine stone church at St. Peter’s in 1853, he moved up the same year to Portage la Prairie.

In the same year there settled in Portage la Prairie about twelve families who came from St. Paul’s or St. Andrew’s, most of whom had probably heard the gospel as delivered by Rev. John West, and all of whom had later been members of Mr. Cochrane’s congregation or Mr. Jones’. It might therefore be said that in a large measure he enjoyed here the fruit of his former labours, and conditions were not nearly so depressing as those that prevailed at Netley Creek when with his yoke of oxen he opened first furrows there.

It must have been a great comfort to Archdeacon Cochrane in locating in this his last charge, to know that his English-speaking congregation would be largely made up of those to whom he had been as a father. And they, on their part, nestled down into their new homes with a feeling of restfulness and confidence, firmly persuaded that the prayers of good Archdeacon Cochrane were worth more to them than a stone wall against any who might devise their hurt.

A large percentage of those who were members of his congregation placed a very high value on the public ordinances of religion; and they showed this not only by regularly availing themselves of the means of grace, but by co-operating with their pastor in befriending the Indians, and by encouraging them to accept the Christian faith.

A list is here subjoined, containing the names of those who were members of the first St. Mary’s congregation. The first fifteen on the list arrived about the same time as the Archdeacon.

Soon as the Portage la Prairie Settlement was started it at once furnished an interesting topic of conversation to the residents of the Red River Settlement, partly due to the high standing of Archdeacon Cochrane who had taken the initiative in the movement, and partly because the movement had taken him and his followers beyond the jurisdiction of the Council of Assiniboia, and when it got to be known that Archdeacon Cochrane had done this contrary to the wishes of Sir George Simpson, Hudson’s Bay Governor in Red River, the matter became serious or amusing according to the light or humour in which one might feel disposed to regard it. Until then the harmonious relations existing between the Mission and mercantile concerns had never been disturbed, or, as one might say, the union between Church and State had been quite satisfactory; but now, this happy condition of affairs was seriously threatened by a dash of will-power emanating from a strong personality on the one side and conflicting with an equally strong one on the other. Naturally Sir George Simpson took the view that he was largely responsible for the protection of the settlers in the country including the Archdeacon himself. Perhaps also he had in mind the fact of the said Archdeacon being or having been Chaplain to the Hudson’s Bay Company, and thought that it ill became him to go contrary to the wishes of their representative. The Archdeacon, on the other hand, would not forget that this same Hudson’s Bay Company had shown its estimate of the value of Missions by sending out conjointly with the C.M.S. the first Missionary to the country, following which their business had prospered as it had never done before, and that the Settlement also prospered until it became “Britain’s One Utopia”; and that therefore it ill became Sir George to forget that Portage la Prairie was within the world, and that the command in which the company had shown becoming interest, said: “Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.” From what I remember of my father’s remarks, it is clear that the Archdeacon regarded the stand taken by Sir George as placing him in a perilous position. As to what was said when the clash occurred between the discordant wills of the Archdeacon and the Governor it is hard to say, but this much can be taken as authentic on the statement of one of the most reliable of the pioneer patriarchs:

Governor Simpson.—“Archdeacon, I wish you to understand that I am quite opposed to your establishing a settlement up there.”

Archdeacon Cochrane.—“Sir George, I am going up there to establish a mission, and I am going up this very day.”

He came, and there is good reason to believe that in a little while no one more respected his faith and courage in doing so than gruff but kind hearted Sir George Simpson.

The Indians who in Archdeacon Cochrane’s time made Portage la Prairie their rendezvous were of the Ojibeway tribe. Many years previously they came from the Lake of the Woods district at the invitation of the Assiniboines, who wished them to conjointly occupy the eastern part of their country, so that with their aid they might more successfully defend themselves against the raids of the Sioux, the more war-like branch of their nation living to the south. After the small pox scourge of 1781-82 these Assiniboines were so reduced in number that they entirely abandoned this eastern part of the country, and retired, stage by stage till they concentrated at the Rockies.

In the early days of the writer, the Ojibeways living in the vicinity of the Red River and Portage Settlements were usually called Bungees, for the reason that when they asked or begged for anything, they invariably commenced their petition with the word Pungee, a little. The settlers noticed this and so, dubbed them, Bungees. Some of these Bungees were old acquaintances of the Portage pioneers, and as they were able to converse together in the Indian language and were all more or less under the influence of Archdeacon Cochrane’s teaching, it is not strange that they lived for over ten years, side by side on the best of terms; and the troubles which occurred after that time were due to the arrival in the Portage of other Indians and other Whites.

To those now occupying the historic ground covered by the Red River and Portage Settlements it may not be easy to understand why the aborigines as well as the French pioneers regarded Portage la Prairie as a more desirable rendezvous than the site on which now stands the famous city of Winnipeg. Perhaps the most reasonable explanation is to be found in a comparison of the physical features of the countries and methods of travel and transportation as they were in the time of Verandrye to what they were when the Selkirk Colonists arrived. The channel between Lake Manitoba and the Assiniboine River by that time became impassable even to the birch bark canoe; and that fragile craft was being rapidly supplanted, as a means of transportation by the fast-going horse and stately ox, in some places, and by the strong and capacious York boat in others.

Considering the little encouragement that the first settlers on the Red River received to come up higher, and the tenacious character of the soil as well as the prevailing nationality among them, it is not surprising that they became attached to it and stayed on there. Most assuredly, their “stick-to-it-ive-ness” has met with a rich reward; and after all, they are the sort of men whom it should be a delight to honour—men who found good in a place and stayed with it as much for its good as their own. And surely the time has come when the people of Winnipeg and other places, should show in a substantial manner, their respectful memory of the pious and virtuous men and women who, when the Red River Settlement was yet

faithfully discharged the duties of parenthood, nourishing and cherishing it safely through the stage of swaddling garments until it attained to the strength and stature of manhood. Surely without undue delay there should be erected some monument, strong, lasting, useful, beautiful—to remind the children of the present and those who are yet unborn of their forefathers and foremothers, who in their day made a priceless contribution to their country in their loving, pious and peaceful manner of living, thus planting the seeds of which the harvest should be, everlasting righteousness.

When Portage la Prairie had to take the position of next best to Winnipeg, it did not thereby become a laggard in the march of civilization, although between Lord Selkirk and the Hudson’s Bay Company its position in the advance was rather peculiar.

When his Lordship extinguished the Indian title to a long and narrow stretch of country, so as to safeguard the interests of his Colonists, he saw to it that Portage la Prairie was safely included by placing the western boundary of the said district at Rat Creek some six miles west of Portage, and in his treaty with the Indians Portage had the distinction of being one of the two places where “one hundred pounds of good marketable tobacco” was to be annually paid to the Indians. When the Hudson’s Bay Company, acting no doubt with the approval of the people, decided to establish a judiciary district embracing the country lying within a radius of fifty miles from Fort Garry, it transpired, perhaps because no survey had been previously made, that Portage la Prairie was safely four or five miles outside the jurisdiction of the Council of Assiniboia. To apply Shakespeare in a modified form: “There was a Providence that shaped its ends, rough hew them as Sir George would.” By act of Lord Selkirk on one hand and the Hudson’s Bay on the other, it was a sort of reserve that neither White nor Indian might occupy by legal right; but both occupied it by moral right, and it must be conceded to the Hudson’s Bay Company that they did not insist on their rights without a proper regard for the rights of the inhabitants of the country, even if they did live outside the fifty mile radius. When Archdeacon Cochrane visited Portage la Prairie in 1851, he found a country waiting to be exploited both in the field of missionary enterprise and also that of agriculture, and there was none to “let or hinder” the man of vision who would enter the open door; he too had his law to follow—the best law for his time and all time—the law of the spirit; and under that influence he returned to St. Peter’s, and having completed the stone church there, and “finding no more place in those parts,” he came back and started the mission here in 1853, accomplishing a work of which the record furnishes an interesting chapter to the history of this place, which, even at that date, was an interesting one.

Since the days of Archdeacon Cochrane and his fellow patriarchs, Portage la Prairie has undergone many changes, yet any old timer who might return after having been absent sixty or seventy years, while noticing that it has had a shave and donned some new garments, would easily recognize the place from its own undisguised natural features, which still retain a faithful outline of the old arrangement of prairie and bush, lake and river. To depict it as it was, it may be said that the Assiniboine here describes a great curve southwards, and within the half circle thus formed there lay five or six hundred acres of land and water, the land heavily timbered with oak, ash, elm, birch, soft maple, poplar, balsam and basswood, and the water consisting of an unused serpentine river-bed, which at its lower extremity emptied into the Assiniboine in summer, in a sluggish or lively manner according to the amount of precipitation. Probably in the days of Radisson and Groseillers, the river at this place was of a much more lake-like character than when the first agriculturists arrived in 1853, but after many more ice-jams and spring freshets had done their work, the river, perhaps following the point of least resistance, took the longest way round, and settled down to its present narrow channel, leaving it to the present and future generations to study the great spread that it once made when via the Portage Creek, it was connected with Lake Manitoba—a spread-out of waters which the natives were want to describe as Peeh-too-pek, a circumscribed or inward lake.

Through the retirement of the river to its present channel the citizens were provided an easy means of adding greatly to the attractiveness of the city, for the old river-bed in two places describes a regular and almost complete circle. These crescent-shaped lakes were always deep enough to make a pretty good showing of water, and also grass, reeds, rushes, frogs, muskrats, blackbirds, ducks and mud-hens. Some years ago the citizens got tired of looking at the bulrushes and listening to the bull-frogs, and conceived the ambitious design of clearing them out. They were encouraged to make suggestions as to the most feasible method of bringing about the proposed improvement, and they plentifully did so, and some of these amateur schemes were tried and after some costly experiments and depressing experiences they finally decided to try out the suggestion of some American who had offered to flood the slough by means of a pump. Inquiry soon made it clear that the pumping method was the right one. A powerful steam pump was purchased, and the swamp was very soon raised to the required level. In a few years the vegetable growth disappeared, and the swamp or slough became well worthy of the name it has since borne—that of Crescent Lake. This flooding scheme was not extended to the lower crescent which lies a half mile east of the other, and is known as George’s Lake, so called after Rev. Henry George.

The general form of the prairie at Portage is that of an obtuse angle with Crescent Lake lying near the apex. A point of the prairie extends to the river on the west side of Crescent Lake, and another touches the river two miles lower down on the east side of the lake. The first point mentioned wedges in between the lake on its east side and the Sand Hills on the other, on the first of which stood what is now spoken of as the “Old Fort,” a Hudson’s Bay establishment of which one log building still stands in a good state of preservation. The Nor’-Westers’ fort stood a few hundred yards further down on the opposite side of the river. On the other point mentioned stood the first St. Mary’s Church and Parsonage. Between these two points the settlers located, side by side on narrow lots averaging about four chains in width. According to the plan of survey in the country the base line or frontage was on the river bank; but it was often difficult to accommodate these base lines to the devious course of the river. This was particularly the case at Portage la Prairie, where the settlers living east of the church ran their lines westward, and those located on Garrioch’s Creek and Crescent Lake ran their lines northward.

The settlement was decidedly zigzag, in fact it resembled the letter Z with its angles curved after the manner of the letter S, a form of settlement that could not be much improved on for bringing the people near to each other; and it worked all right so long as most of them went in more for hunting and trapping than for farming, because while this continued there were few fields with their snake fences, to prevent anyone from making straight cuts between one house and another.

All the settlers could usually procure their hay nearer than two miles, but usually preferred going that distance, because some might have to be left in the coil after harvest, or in the case of others, till after the fall hunt; and the further off it was the less likely it was to be injured by cattle. Every man could procure an abundance of hard or soft wood, at farthest, only a few hundred yards from his door, so there was abundance of building material, and the fuel question was considered hardly worthy of discussion by any man who could swing a Red River axe or pull a cross-cut. In consequence of suitable oak and elm being so convenient to every man’s hand, and nearly every man being so handy in converting these trees into those indispensable vehicles—Red River carts, the Portage became quite famous for their manufacture, but second no doubt to the White Horse plains, where the Metis did a large business with the Hudson’s Bay Company.

The soil of Portage la Prairie is a sandy loam, and in those early times bore ample evidence of its fertility in a luxuriant growth of grasses, such as the blue, Scotch, timothy, red top and pea-vine; and also in the abundance of wild fruits of nearly every sort known to be indigenous to this country. Fish, such as the sturgeon, cat-fish, pike and perch were abundant in the Assiniboine, and white fish and other kinds equally so in Lake Manitoba. Then that inestimable animal, the buffalo, was still to be found in large numbers not far to the west, and occasionally a representative of their kind in the form of an “old bull,” would be reported as near as Rat Creek, now Burnside. In the extensive forest extending southward, westward and eastward, elk, moose and wapiti were numerous. Fur-bearing animals such as the bear, wolf, fox, beaver, badger, lynx, wolverine, fisher, mink and muskrat, all had their haunts within easy reach. Wild duck abounded in every swamp or stream. All summer the coo of the wild pigeon could be heard in the woods, while in fall the partridge and the pheasant strutted about the buildings or perched on the trees with as little concern as if they were domesticated.

These things, of course, would appeal to Archdeacon Cochrane chiefly as a means to an end. In a place so generously endowed with the means of bodily sustenance, neither Whites nor Indians need be harassed by want, and so their thoughts should be the more easily directed to higher and better things.

During the twelve years that Archdeacon Cochrane spent in Portage his time was nearly all taken up with his strictly missionary or spiritual calling, but he had the oversight of the farm, and it was easy to see that he was an accomplished agriculturist. He usually kept two men, and everything was kept in the right place and in good condition, and everything was done in the right time and in the right way.

The writer never heard of his firing a shot at anything, although he possessed a single barrel flint-lock, with a barrel four feet long. This same flint-lock proved a deadly weapon when turned against the blackbirds by his hired man, on his rounds of the fields. No one ever had reason to suppose that the Archdeacon did not respect the man who hunted industriously with gun or trap; but there is one thing sure, whenever he saw one of this sort turning his first furrow, it was much the same to him as seeing a man turn a new leaf; and there is no doubt too that many and many a first furrow was turned and many a new leaf because his labours were appreciated, and his people tried hard to encourage him in his efforts for both their temporal and spiritual benefit.

This statement is fully borne out by the cheerful manner in which the parishioners helped in the carrying out of his church plans. The first of these in which he sought their co-operation was in that of building a church. While this was being done, Sunday services were held in Jack Anderson’s dwelling house, which stood on the north bank of Crescent Lake where 4th St., S.E., strikes the lake. It was a log building twenty feet square, about the right size of a church for the settlers who had arrived up to that date. The seats consisted of planks laid across blocks. An eighteen inch aisle led up the centre to the unpainted table that stood at the top, and which served as pulpit desk and altar. There was not much to savour of churchliness until the worshippers and their revered pastor took their places, and then the churchliness was high in the best and highest sense.

The writer was only six years old at the time, and would not risk a positive declaration as to the length of the services. Likely they were a half hour longer than an ordinary Sunday service in these days. I think I still have a vague recollection of wanting to fall asleep and nearly falling off the seat.

On one occasion when the autumnal days had considerably shortened, and the Archdeacon had perhaps preached a little longer than usual, we found ourselves at the close of the address shrouded in pitchy darkness, and then from the spot where his stately form had last been visible there came forth the sound of his voice announcing the favourite evening hymn:

In building the church the parishioners showed the right spirit. Whatever their wants, they were evidently resolved that at the top of the list there must stand a house of prayer. Most of them could faithfully have said, “silver and gold have I none”; but they had willing hearts and strong and skilful hands. There was not a man of them who could not swing an axe or his end of a whip-saw; and there were some men in the place, among them the writer’s father, who could not have been easily outclassed as carpenters in their day or any other; and if they did not aspire to the building of a house to the Lord that was “to be exceedingly magnifical,” they were at least resolved that it would be as worthy of the object in view as their means and the conditions of the day would allow.

The church was seventy feet long by thirty feet wide, and in height under eaves about thirteen or fourteen feet. At the north end was a tower ten feet square and sixty feet high, finished with a spire surmounted by a cross. The walls of both church and tower were of oak logs hewn on two sides, those of the church in the style then called frame, i.e., the logs were tennoned into posts that stood ten or twelve feet apart, and those of the tower in the style called dove-tail, i.e., the logs were fitted into each other at the four corners. The church and tower were clap-board and whitewashed, and the roof of the church covered with unpainted oak shingles. Within, the church walls were not lathed but simply axe-scored and plastered with a mixture of clay and finely chopped hay, and finished off with whitewash. The ceiling was of basswood and panel work, and unpainted. There were four Gothic windows on each side of the church, and a larger one at the south end. There was no chancel, a feature of all the churches built in the country in Archdeacon Cochrane’s time. The substitute in the case under consideration was the apportioning of about ten feet of the south end for this purpose. This was shut off by means of a white painted rail, and enclosed what the worshippers reverently regarded as a most holy place, not to be trodden upon needlessly by any, in that it was set apart solely for those set apart to minister in holy things. Within this enclosure were two white painted pulpits eight feet in height, standing one at each corner of the building. A communion table stood in the usual place, beneath the window in the centre, and on each side of it stood a high chair made of birch and painted black. The pews were made and provided entirely by the people, and it is noteworthy as showing the mechanical skill of the Portage pioneers, that there were not many families that did not make as well as furnish their own pew. A common model was first decided on, and then passed from one to the other. A pew had two heavy oak ends, the top of each being finished off in seven curves which must have taxed not only the skill but the patience of the workman. The bodies of the pews were of poplar and basswood, and included a book and a kneeling board. The pews were unpainted and could not have looked more alike had they been the work of the same carpenter.

Such is a description of the church in which the first congregation of St. Mary’s worshipped for twenty-two years—from 1855 to 1877. From the sixty foot tower there rang out every Sunday an invitation to assemble for worship, and at the appointed hour the members of the congregation were regularly found in their places. Sharp on time the venerable Archdeacon walked up the aisle, and entered the pulpit in the west corner. When he appeared above the reading-board he was surpliced, but minus his stocks. This he took from between the leaves of his bible, and fastened while facing the congregation. The expression on his face while fastening this little vestment behind by its strings, was most extraordinary, but more extraordinary still was the fact that no one, young or old, in that congregation was ever seen to smile while he was so engaged. It was a remarkable proof of how greatly he was reverenced by all the members of his congregation.

The Archdeacon always wore spectacles in the pulpit. The lenses were green and hinged in the middle. After adjusting his glasses carefully he gave out a hymn. There was no musical instrument in the church in his time, and it did not seem to be much needed, for after the precentor had sung the first three notes, and the congregation had “caught on,” they threw such heartiness into their song that there was not much room for anything artificial. The three parts—treble, base and tenor—could always be distinctly heard, and occasionally an alto as well. The time was good but in these days would be considered a little slow.

Judging from the methods uniformly adopted by Archdeacon Cochrane at the different places where he laboured, it may reasonably be assumed that he was of the opinion that no better results were likely to be obtained in the field of evangelical effort than where the gospel and agricultural ploughs were worked side by side. The method, at any rate, had been tried by him at St. John’s, St. Andrew’s and St. Peter’s, and with very pleasing results. His experiences here were not so encouraging for while the earthly soil made generous return for the labour bestowed upon it with the agricultural implement, in the higher field a soil was encountered which responded less readily to the efforts of the husbandman. This comparison is made with reference to his work with the Indians. At St. Peter’s he came into contact chiefly with Swampy Crees who of all tribes in the continent, are the most amenable to gospel teaching; in Portage la Prairie he had to do chiefly with the Saulteaux, who while believing in the supernatural as firmly as the Crees, are not so easily persuaded that the belief of their forefathers was a mistake.

Although Portage la Prairie was well within the tract of country for which Lord Selkirk had made treaty with the Indians, Archdeacon Cochrane took the wise precaution of having an informal treaty made between the Whites and Indians resident in the locality. The substance of this treaty was as follows:

The settlers were to have all the bush land lying within the extensive southward curve of the Assiniboine River, and as much of the adjoining prairie land as they might need for cultivation, pasturage and hay, in return for which each settler was to pay the Indians every fall, or during winter, one bushel of wheat or its equivalent. An Indian by the name of Pa-kwah-ki-kun was named as chief, and to him this wheat was to be annually paid.

The Indians would use some of this wheat for making soup, mee-chim-a-poi, and some of it they would crisp in a frying pan held over the fire until it began to pop. This they called kas-pi-si-kun-uk, crisp stuff, and if some of the settlers made up their equivalent for a bushel of wheat, with butter or grease, it no doubt added an extra relish to kas-pi-si-kun-uk and made it slide down very pleasantly, and, no doubt, for the time being the lucky Bungee believed in farming from the bottom of his heart, to say nothing of his stomach, and did not worry so long as he could eat his bread by the sweat of the white man’s brow. Between this foretaste of the fruits of farming, and the Missionary’s advice, evidently an impression was made on their minds, and they reasoned something like this; however well we have fared on the flesh and fruits taken from our forests and plains, and the fish and fowl taken from our lakes and streams, there are times when these fail us, and if civilization will help carry us over these gaps, it is worth while giving it a trial, and they did so; and on the “old camp ground” where before they had only tented, some of them now built little houses and planted gardens, to stay with or wander from, according to which forces were in ascendant, those of habit and instinct or of reason and civilization.

The following is a list of the Indian families of Portage la Prairie at the time of the Archdeacon’s arrival, and without exception they came under his ministration from time to time. In the case of a man and wife who accepted Christianity they were baptized, and if they had a family the children were baptized also, after which, the parents were married. In the following list, Indians who only occasionally visited Portage la Prairie for the purpose of trade, are not included.

Pakwahikun.

Puhkiteoon, stricken. He had a hump over his right shoulder blade.

Pacheetoo, image.

Pinesiopee, thunder-water. The site of his house is now covered by the General Hospital.

Kihchiwees, a large tent.

Machihkiwis, the evil one.

Keeneswa, cut to a point.

William Peechee, something moving.

Putakakoose.

Paswain, oily.

Manapit, ugly tooth.

Wisikun, sour.

Keekooses, little fish.

Oosaochit, yellow anus.

Oosaokwon, yellow quill.

Missisikakoos, big little skunk.

William Cochrane.

Kwingwahaka, wolverine.

Muskegoo, a swampy.

Moosoos, the calf of a moose.

Nikanjiwan, before the current.

Kihchipines, the great bird.

Ookimawinin, the man in power.

Aindibeyhting, sitting firmly by it.

Kepeyutungh, staying by it always.

Atakawinin, gambler.

William Hodgson.

Weeseoop.

Among those who expressed a willingness to cultivate the soil and the methods of civilized people, and to exchange at least periodically, the wandering tent for a house of logs, was the Indian Pacheetoo. This man bore a striking resemblance not only to Esau the cunning hunter of the field, but also to Jacob the cunning man of business. In fact though he had but one eye he could see far as any other Indian, while the eye of his understanding reached far beyond their ken—in short he had a seeing eye. There can be no question that the ideal of civilization as presented to him in the life and teaching of Archdeacon Cochrane made a strong impression on the mind of this uncommon Indian, not that the writer would claim that he ever rose to great spiritual heights; but when one considers the manner of his upbringing, his contact with American traders and that fiery trial—the invasion of the hunting grounds of the Saulteaux by the Sioux, thus snatching from his hands in old age the means of livelihood whereon he and his children depended, it must be said that large allowance is to be made for the man.

Owing to his house being conspicuously situated near the public road, and in the centre of the Settlement, owing also to his being a friendly and—if one may so speak—a gentlemanly Indian, the members of the community paid considerable attention to what he was doing, and were especially interested in his approaches to civilization, which often supplied a topic of conversation when the weather and other subjects failed.

The site of Pacheetoo’s house may at this date be accurately described as corner of Crescent Avenue and Broadway. Next to the parsonage it was the largest dwelling house in the parish, and had the distinction of being the only house, besides the church and parsonage, with a shingled roof, the others being thatched. It was whitewashed within and without. Doors and windows were painted a bright red—the red man’s invariable choice of colors. All in all, Pacheetoo was a progressive citizen, who had a taste for things elegant and comfortable, and the writer had a strong suspicion that Archdeacon Cochrane made the most of this trait in his character, so as to arouse others to a wholesome ambition in the same direction; for it cannot be denied that there were quite a number of Portage pioneers who were far too easily satisfied with their make-shifts. Though so expert in the use of tools, a one roomed house satisfied them, even where there was a large family growing into manhood and womanhood. Such primitive simplicity among a lot of carpenters living on the edge of a forest was a thing to be discouraged as smacking too much of a cave dwelling ancestry.

If Pacheetoo’s house was in itself an object of interest, its contents were even more so, for therein were to be found things both curious and useful. The candle stick of many of the settlers just referred to was liable to be a stick for sticking a candle into, or to be more definite, a short piece of plank with an auger-hole in the centre; but Pacheetoo’s light shone from a more elegant setting.

He sometimes made a journey into the country of Uncle Sam, and when he returned his neighbours would be on the qui vive to see or to hear some new thing—anything in fact from a humming-top to a violin. Returning from one of these excursions he brought back, among other curios, two glass candlesticks; and it was not long till every inhabitant of the place had seen them. Opportunities were not lacking, for when the weather permitted, his front door stood open, and on a table in the centre of the large room within could be seen the glass candlesticks in the middle of his collection of curios. A short time ago a gentleman, a little older than the writer in conversation about the early days of Portage la Prairie, recalled the open door and said that he and other young people often on their way to and from church stopped a while to admire the collection. The writer himself had ample opportunity to admire the candlesticks when at the age of fourteen he listened to a lecture in the aforesaid room on the subject of “Agricultural Economy,” delivered by Mr. Oliver Gowler of Headingly, regarded in his day as the largest and best farmer in the Red River Settlement. I can only remember that Mr. Gowler snuffed the candles before starting in, and that on the way home, I gathered from remarks overheard that the honours of the occasion were pretty evenly divided between Mr. Gowler and his agricultural methods and Pacheetoo and his glass candlesticks. Speaking the other day to a lady who is nearing her seventieth year, and who was a child when with her parents she came to Portage la Prairie from Ontario in 1862, she mentioned a pitcher that was among Pacheetoo’s possessions, and said that she had frequently thought of it since because of its pattern and shape.

To amuse his children Pacheetoo was not satisfied with a rag doll of amateur make, but provided them with something that much more effectively appealed to their fun-loving natures in another product of American ingenuity in the form of a mechanical toy, which being fastened to the table and wound up went through a series of performances to the astonishment and delight of children both young and old.

Among other of his civilized notions, Pacheetoo tried to have a lawn. Securing seed from somewhere in the States, he sowed it and awaited results; but the front of his house underwent no change, unless it was that the low-growing and accommodating house-weed, or knot-grass (avicularia) appeared in unusual luxuriance, suggesting the suspicion to the neighbours that some smart Yankee had gathered a lot of the ripe house-weed, and sold the seed to their enterprising customer as a good sample of the very thing he had ordered. After this one attempt at lawn-making he confined himself to his own line of business—that of dealing in horse flesh and pelts—a business in which he could take care of himself with any man on either side of the international boundary.

With all his love of wandering the Indian usually has some spot which he favours, and to which his thoughts will turn as home; and to the Indians found here by the pioneers on their arrival in 1853, Portage la Prairie was such a spot; and no wonder, for it was a veritable hunter’s paradise. This home—this paradise, they cheerfully shared with the English-speaking settlers who came to them from the Red River Settlement, though well they knew what had happened there—that the particular resources of the country that had been a means of living to the Indian had been seriously depleted. They knew that the same thing must happen in the Portage, yet they ungrudgingly made room for the English, and the two dwelt together in amity for sixteen years; and when at the end of that period, the arrival of the whiskey-trader, together with an influx of Sioux from across the line, created conditions that led to deeds of violence, it should be remembered that the Saulteaux of Portage la Prairie were least to blame for that, and that it was not their good fortune any more than that of other communities, either white or red, either at that time or since, to be good without exception. The tendency therefore to represent the Indians as alike despicable and bad is much to be regretted. Every kindly disposed and fair-minded man or woman should remember the poor position they are in to defend themselves, or to do themselves full justice in other respects. And all true citizens of Portage la Prairie should think respectfully and kindly not only of the men and women who turned first furrows during the first two decades of its history, but of the good-hearted Saulteaux or Bungees who dwelt beside them as friends and neighbours. In their generosity they lived up to the fine sentiment so well expressed in poetry:

If the Portage pioneers were in a manner outlawed by the Hudson’s Bay Company, they showed no signs of languishing on that account, on the contrary, they seemed to thrive and be as happy as their congeners who continued to dwell under the aegis of the aforenamed corporation; indeed so little did conditions in the two places differ that when Frank L. Hunt glowingly described conditions as they existed in the Red River Settlement, it might easily be supposed that in the purview of his paper, “Britain’s One Utopia,” he included Portage la Prairie in his encomiums, for after all it was just a recent off-shoot of the older place—no more, no less.

The settlers of Portage prided themselves in being able to speak to their Saulteaux neighbours in their own language, or in the Cree which evidently emanated from a parent language; and a knowledge of either of these dialects enabled them to converse readily with the French Half-breeds as well. This came in very usefully, for hundreds of these people annually passed the place with their long strings of carts on their way to the buffalo hunt, and on their return generally rested here for a day before continuing their journey to White Horse Plains. The approach of a brigade of these carts on their return, loaded with pemmican and dried meat, was often announced by the noise they made, for on a calm evening they were usually heard before seen. In the earlier years of their history the Red River carts were far more musical than towards the close, for some fifty years before the last of these famous vehicles were relegated to our museums, an innovation was introduced in the shape of cast-iron boxings, and a lubricating mixture of grease and black lead, after which the old cry for gre-e-e-e-ase was heard only occasionally, and piano at that. Most writers who refer to the creaking of the Red River cart frankly admit that it is beyond their powers of description. Mr. Charles Mair, whose literary productions in both prose and poetry are well known, writes thus on this particular theme. “The creaking of the wheels of the Red River cart is indescribable. It is like no sound you ever heard in all your life, and makes your blood run cold.” Again, “To hear a thousand of these wheels all groaning and creaking at the same time is a sound never to be forgotten. . . .” Mr. Mair’s taste for music evidently differed from that of the Scotsman who woke from a celestial dream in which he had listened with delight to a thousand bagpipes each playing a different tune. Speaking for myself I should say that the sound of the bagpipes or the carts in any number is rather pleasant when heard at a long distance.

By the time the settlers heard or saw the carts of the Metis approach the swamp via the Saskatchewan trail, they were getting pretty hungry for choice morsels of the bison, such as tongues, bosses and backfats, while the Metis were even more hungry for the butter, milk and vegetables of the settlers, so that very soon after a string of carts was halted, a lively interchange took place of the products of the chase for those of the farm and garden.

Every settler had some one among the Metis who called him “Ni Chiwam,” my cousin, and if the person so addressed did not want to show himself painfully lacking in friendliness and good manners, there was nothing for it but to reciprocate both in word and deed. The Chiwam relationship did not live on air but on spontaneous and mutual acts of friendliness given and received usually in the form of Indian presents. In the course of my life I have received a good number of Indian presents, and speaking of them as a whole I would put them down as sources of mixed pleasure. I suppose dealing in presents calls for a fine sense of discernment, and it is very much so with Indian presents at any rate. Like Mark Twain’s piloting on the Mississippi, one may understand the signs of a shallow place but cannot make another person understand how he knows.

My father’s Chiwam was Antoine Fayan, alias Antoine O’Jew. Which was his correct surname I cannot say; but father always used the latter when speaking of his honorary relative, possibly for the sole reason that it reminded him of a certain ancient people. When Mr. O’Jew handed father a couple of buffalo tongues, or a bladder of fine grease, or a boss, father looked happy—possibly he was—but by the time they parted an hour or two later, Mr. O’Jew had reason to be the happier man of the two.

Persons coming fresh from the Old Country were usually, according to a Hudson’s Bay usage, spoken of as “greenhorns,” of which the native equivalent was “Moonyias.” The term was also frequently applied to anyone who was shiftless or showed a lack of ingenuity. If in applying the word mooniyas to the person fresh from the old land, the Indian seemed almost to imply superiority, perhaps all things considered, he was justified, for they had no cause to lower their heads to the Whites on moral grounds, so long as the Whites showed proper respect for themselves, and encouraged the Indians to maintain theirs, or even left them alone in their efforts to do so. In giving an explanation of the peace and good will that Whites and Indians showed toward each other in the early days of the settlement, it is not sufficient to mention that they could converse together in the native tongue, and therefore learned to understand each other’s natures; but one should remember that there were Missionaries in the land and surely it will be only placing the credit where it is justly due, to attribute the happy conditions prevailing in the land, to the acceptance by both races of the gospel of Christ.

For a short time after the church was built there were no services on a Sunday specially intended for the Indians; but sometimes a few of them would turn up at the morning service, among them probably our most civilized Indian, Pacheetoo. As before stated, Pacheetoo had but one eye, a fact not very successfully concealed by his allowing a lock of hair to fall over the defective spot. It, however, had the effect of producing a facial expression suggestive of shrewdness. Whenever he was present—the service was a good deal longer, but the cause of the difference was appreciated. The Archdeacon at the close of his sermon, would get my father to interpret for him, a sentence or so at a time, and thus we got a resume of the sermon in both English and Bungee. Each time the interpreter paused Pacheetoo politely showed his interest and attention by giving the Indian form of assent—a(ngh).

As another proof that Archdeacon Cochrane regarded him as no ordinary Indian, the writer would mention that a short time ago he was told by a lady living in Portage, who as a girl worked at the parsonage, that if Pacheetoo called when a meal was about to be served the Archdeacon would have him sit at the table in his company but not if Mrs. Cochrane was present.

The writer has already stated that the settlers located in Portage in such a way that the settlement formed a figure resembling an S-curved Z, and that this form lent itself readily to the making of straight cuts. At the western or upper foot of this Z the Bungees were bunched close together in their tents and later in houses and tents, and about midway in the eastern or lower curve stood the church and parsonage. A direct course between these two points was a desideratum, because it meant the reducing of the distance to about half that of the circuitous way, and the shorter way was splendidly sheltered while the other was exposed all the way round.

Once the Archdeacon got his work fairly going among the Indians he turned his attention to this desirable straight-cut. About where the short cut was desired he found a crooked bridle-path. Discarding this almost entirely, he had a straight road cut through the heavy bush, wide enough for two carts to pass abreast. This road was known as the “Mission Road,” and was a great comfort and convenience to at least half of the settlers in the place. It was particularly useful to my father, as it had its exit on his part of the prairie at its eastern end, and it provided us a comfortable way of reaching the Hudson’s Bay trading post. The writer often noticed the Archdeacon pass to and fro along this road in winter. He rode in the low solid-runner cariole in use in those days. It was drawn by a good-sized bay horse, known far beyond the confines of Portage la Prairie as “Bob.” When Bob arrived with his master in Portage he was already known as Old Bob, although it is hardly likely that he was the same horse that figured in the celebrated ride of the chief’s son at St. Peter’s, when the Archdeacon was opening first furrows there. Bob had the reputation of being a cunning animal.

On one occasion the writer saw him suddenly come to a dead stop in the middle of a good road with the Archdeacon in the buggy. The only cause in sight for the sudden halt in his habitually safe gait of five miles an hour, was a slight depression spoken of in our family as “the valley.” It was there that Bob paused, seemingly for reflection or rest. For the space of one minute the Archdeacon did nothing. Then he spoke to Bob, first kindly, then, after a slight pause, sternly; then he shook the reins—Bob shook his head. Thereupon the Archdeacon alighted and releasing Bob from the shafts, subjected him to corporal punishment. The writer was all this time concealed in the grass behind a snake fence, instinctively feeling that the Archdeacon and Bob would prefer settling their misunderstanding without a witness and his interference. The story has a pleasant sequel. Bob had evidently learned how to draw a conclusion as well as a buggy, for when he had once more been reinstated between the shafts, and his master, gathering up the reins, sat in the buggy and said in a stentorian voice—“Go!” he went.

Some time ago the writer was told that Bob did not long survive his master, and that his last days were spent at Westbourne, and his bones and those of another horse who did faithful service for another Missionary—Rev. Thomas Cook, long time beloved pastor at Westbourne—are laid together in the keeping of Mother Earth close to the Westbourne church, and that there had been a serious proposal to have them removed and placed in a museum. Rev. Thomas Cook was a son of the Mr. Cook who had so ably assisted Archdeacon Cochrane by managing the Indian school at St. Peter’s.

Of all the hindrances to pleasant farming which had to be encountered in Portage la Prairie, that presented by the blackbirds was by far the most formidable, but apart from that it can be said that the first four years in the history of the settlement were evenly quiet and progressive, and then, in 1857, there occurred a serious setback caused by a visit from the grasshoppers. The farms at this time, with the exception of Archdeacon Cochrane’s, were mere garden patches. My father’s, which was next in size, did not exceed ten acres. It lay within the bush and was on the site of an Indian camping ground. In this grasshopper year it had been mostly seeded to barley and promised a splendid yield, if it could be saved from the devouring blackbirds. In the hope of this the writer, then nine years of age, and a brother two years older, were assigned the daily task of driving them off. If the formation of the Settlement, consisting of bush, swamp and prairie, was handy for the settlers it was equally so for the blackbirds, and the swamp was especially so; there they bred by the thousands, and there they roosted overnight. “The early bird that gets the worm” didn’t have anything on our Portage blackbirds; they rose before the sun and retired after it, and daily continued so doing from the time the grain was in the milky stage till it was safely put away in the stack. One visitor from the Red River Settlement was wont to amuse his friends long after by telling of the terrible scare he got when visiting Portage la Prairie. Of how he arrived at night and next morning was aroused from a sound sleep by the report of fire arms and the greatest variety of yells that he had ever heard in all his life; and of the great relief it was to his feelings when he learned that the Settlement was not being attacked by the Sioux, but only by blackbirds.

One fine afternoon in August when my brother and I had bawled and chased the birds out of the field and were resting while the birds perched on the surrounding trees, were treating or teasing us with a song, we suddenly became aware that something unusual was happening. The song of the birds had ceased, the sun shone less brightly, and fastening our gaze upon it, we saw as it were a cloud of snowflakes drifting south-eastward, then we noticed that it was beginning to snow grasshoppers, and that the birds were darting hither and thither, catching hoppers before they could reach the ground.

Next morning we were allowed to sleep till after sunrise. It was armistice day between us and the blackbirds. There was nothing left to fight about. The grasshoppers had cut the heads off the barley during the night, and were breakfasting on them where they fell.

Father was not at home, having gone with carts to St. Paul, U.S.A.; but he was not unprepared for what had occurred. He was on his way back when he met the grasshoppers, and from the direction of their flight, he thought the chances of escape for Portage were not very good. Among other things that he brought back was a reaper, the first brought into Portage la Prairie. It was a J. C. Manning, and of course not a self-binder. To have gone so far for a reaper and then to have nothing to reap was disappointing indeed. Brother and I becomingly joined in the common disappointment, but we easily saw the silver lining in the grasshopper cloud. We could sleep more of a morning, and we were not extra fond of barley soup anyway, especially when we had to do the pearling.

Among happy recollections of those early days few are more pleasant than those of the relations which existed between the settlers and the Indians. Each side sought to live up to its best traditions, and to be natural, kind and genuine in dealing with the other. To repeat the old saying, that “the surest way to an Indian’s heart lies through his stomach” is only another way of saying that he is a thoroughly human being and one need go only a little further to assert that the connection between these two organs of the human body is so intimate, that if it be ignored either in one’s own organism or that of another, complications of many sorts are liable to result. Right true it is, therefore, that “the proper study of man is man.”

Although an Indian visiting a settler was always offered food, the Indians so regulated the season, object and number of their visits that they did not really become unduly troublesome. When he visited his civilized neighbour he took his own good Indian manners along. He did not knock before entering; but he had a way of his own that plainly said, I enter only with your permission. Then the master of the house would say “Peendike, peendike,” “come in, come in,” and would further invite his visitor to be seated, saying “Namatapih, namatapih”; and when he was comfortably seated cross-legged on the floor, it was his place to tell news if he received any encouragement to do so. Then there would be almost sure to follow some item of the least vital of vital statistics—he had perhaps lost his father or brother or child. If he had married a wife that was their own affair, and something of the nature of a mystery; if his wife had given birth to a son, the public would probably suffer no great hardship from having to wait till they learned of the occurrence some time later on. If he could tell of a great fight between the Blackfeet and some other tribe, or of so many buffalo shot down at one charge, ah! that was something worth speaking about. When food was handed, a polite Indian, as he reached out his hands and took the dishes, he would say heartily the four-fold thank you. “Oh, oh, meeguahch, meeguahch!” and as he returned the dishes, he repeated the same words, and probably would add, “Mina peyakwao nigih miyomitisoon,” “once more I have eaten well.”

My father kept a little store, and often the Indians would visit our place for the purpose of trade or barter. The men traded their pelts for dry-goods or provisions, and the women came round selling baskets made of the red and grey willow, much used as clothes baskets and in taking up vegetables. They also sold wooden ladles and brooms. The latter were made by taking a good-sized sapling and turning down thin strips of its fibre over the larger end, and when the sapling had been thus reduced to the size of an ordinary broom handle, these fibres were fastened together near the top by means of a strip of the same material. They were usually made in two sizes, a small one for scrubbing out pots and dishes, and a larger one with a long handle used for sweeping. Among the Indians was a splendid tinsmith. The writer cannot remember having ever heard of how he came to learn his trade; but the settlers considered his kettles and pans equally neat, and more durable than any they could procure elsewhere.

It has already been stated that the Archdeacon’s efforts among the Saulteaux of Portage la Prairie were not attended with nearly as great success as he had met with among the more teachable Crees of St. Peter’s; and an easy explanation for that is to be found in a knowledge and consideration of the greatly differing religious dispositions of the two races. Allow that the Archdeacon worked there in his prime, and here, as an old man, he worked with the same zeal and with great energy, with an equally faithful and competent interpreter, and was equally aided in the example and co-operation of the settlers. The difference in result was not due to any difference in labourers or in circumstances, but in the difference of soil in the two spiritual fields of labour.

The difference was certainly not in the least due to his having a better knowledge of the language of the one tribe than of the other, for he could not probably speak a half dozen words of either, and if he ever did attempt to learn the Indian language he must have very soon abandoned the idea having probably discovered that he could turn his time to better account, and that his talents lay in other directions, for the nearest approach to a conversation with Indians that he was ever heard to attempt was, when giving his hand to one he said, “wachee, wachee.” It turned out, however, when one came to investigate, that wachee was intended for “what cheer,” a form of salutation common at the time in one or more counties in England.

The Archdeacon’s assistant in the Indian work at the West End was Mr. Malcolm Cummings. Mr. Cummings was in every respect well qualified for the position, and had filled a similar one under the Archdeacon before he left St. Peter’s. He was a master of the Indian language, and in dealings with the Indians it came natural with him as it did with most settlers brought up under the Hudson’s Bay regime, to fall in with their policy of unrivalled tactfulness. Not the least of his qualifications to assist the Archdeacon in his Indian work, was his thorough appreciation of the sterling character of his employer, who, on his part, was likely satisfied with Mr. Cummings’ fitness to teach the young Indian idea how to shoot, as much because of his knowledge of farming as because he was a graduate of St. John’s Collegiate school.

Mr. Cummings and others who knew Archdeacon Cochrane well in the Red River Settlement, did not forget to mention his feats of strength, to show that in that respect as well as others, he was no ordinary man; and I fear, we of the rising generation received the impression that in the economy of the present dispensation there are occasions when the power of moral suasion can be made much more effective when backed up with the required muscular force, and the writer recalls many vain regrets in realizing that in the exercise of this reserve force he was destined to remain a feather-weight.

It was quite common in those days to speak of the “strongest man” or champion. This grew out of the practice of the Hudson’s Bay Company voyageurs, who, on their annual trip to York Factory were wont to engage in trials of strength by wrestling and so forth, and when one of them had successfully downed all competitors he literally or metaphorically stuck a feather in his cap, where it remained until some other man became acknowledged champion. In 1876 the writer made the acquaintance at Methy Portage, McKenzie River, of a Frenchman from the province of Quebec, who had sported the coveted feather during the years when he was a voyageur to York Factory. When I met him he was on his way east, fresh returned from a prospecting tour for gold, having crossed the Rockies all alone, and come down the Laird River in a dug-out. He was a fine specimen of the genus homo. Nevertheless, I should say that in a good honest tug-o’-war Archdeacon Cochrane would have taken the feather. It is, however, satisfactory to relate that the reputation of being the strongest man in the country did not come to him in that way, but in connection with the up-building of the Church; and it is just possible that in putting forth his strength on an occasion or so to place some heavy stone or log in position, he did not lose sight of the moral effect it might have on such members of his flock as might be disposed to unruliness.

The following story goes to show that the Archdeacon was a remarkably strong man: When engaged in erecting the wooden church at St. Andrew’s, it happened one day that two able-bodied men had thought to save time by discarding their prys and man-handling one end of a piece of heavy timber. On raising it a few inches, they found it too heavy and dropped it. The Archdeacon noticing what had occurred stepped over and said, “Let me have it, men,” and seemingly without much effort he raised it and moved it round to where it was wanted.

On more than one occasion the Archdeacon deemed it necessary to convince some flagrant transgressor in the community of the exceeding hatefulness of sin by laying hands upon him and giving him a sound threshing. Suffice it here to mention just one well authenticated instance of this kind. A certain member of his flock had fallen so low as not only to covet his neighbour’s wife, but had so alienated her affections that she had shown a readiness to release her husband from all further obligation to love, cherish and provide for her. The distracted husband laid his grievance before the Archdeacon, who thereupon sent his servant after two or three wholesome-sized withs. With these he confronted the man who had wronged his brother, and although the wrong-doer was not a small man in body, and resisted to the best of his ability, he was from all accounts, convinced by the time the Archdeacon got through with him and the withs, that “the way of the transgressor is hard.” I regret to say that we are not informed as to whether this heroic form of treatment led to an amendment of life; but we are safe in supposing that “others being admonished by his example would be the more afraid to offend.”

But to return to the Archdeacon’s Indian work in Portage la Prairie. Until 1858 he was without a special teacher or interpreter, and either a hired servant or some other parishioner acted in the latter capacity as required; but soon as he had secured the services of Malcolm Cummings, whom he located at the western end of the settlement, he established a day school and held an afternoon Sunday service there, for the benefit of the Indians. Mr. Cummings retained charge of this school until 1865—the year of Archdeacon Cochrane’s death. As in all the parish schools of the Red River Settlement, the aim was to give a thorough knowledge of the three R’s, but not to the exclusion of the fourth and most important R—Religion. The text books were mostly in English, but explanations were given in the native tongue. Besides teaching five hours daily, five days in the week, Mr. Cummings assisted at the afternoon Sunday service. About thirty Indians attended the service, and an equal number of children attended the day school.

On school days the children were treated to a good warm dinner, in which barley soup and pemmican played an important part, and doubtless when the hungry young Indians came to this part of the day’s proceedings, they were not much in accord with the proverb which saith that “there is no royal road to learning.” Poor little Red-skins! A few of them are left still who as old people are awaiting “the call,” on the Sand Hill Reserve, ten miles west of the city. Occasionally one of them accosts me on the street, and with a friendly smile and “ho! ho!” reminds me of his father’s name, and mentions the name of mine, and then we are good as old acquaintances, and compare the present times with the former and are quite agreed that “the old is better,” and then we go on our respective ways, glad to have met, and hoping to meet again.

Had I been asked what were the visible results remaining of what had been done for that Indian, I would have answered, I am no spiritual valuator. In the institution from which he graduated, they were obedient, they fed the hungry, gave medicine to the sick, clothes to the naked, and the question as to results—often asked in honesty and perplexity—they left where we must leave it—in the hands of Him who largely reserved to Himself the means of measuring and weighing moral and spiritual quantities and of estimating their true value. This may be called mere sentiment, but all the same it is what has made this old world—even to the man of cold facts and figures—a much nicer place to live than anything else could have made it.

Those Indian children may have forgotten much that was taught them at school, but it may be confidently asserted that they would never forget the hot meal they received every school day in the winter. No doubt to the last each of them could recall the savour and flavour of the delicious steaming Rabbaboo generously dished out to them by Mrs. Cummings. How distinctly they would remember the grace before meat, and that as soon as Mr. Cummings had added “ahao wisinin,” “now eat,” they quickly fell to on the soup which went to their hearts and encouraged them for another two hours of education.

After all, the Missionary, or anyone else cannot go far astray when he responds to the natural and innocent cravings of those he seeks to benefit, physically, morally and spiritually. Surely the Saviour, when he fed the hungry multitude thereby drew them nearer to Him, and made the way easier for their enlightenment respecting the meat that endureth unto everlasting life.

If we are asked to point to abiding results of Archdeacon Cochrane’s work, we can easily do so, but suffice it to say, at this time, that his work speaks better things than we can, and calls for a method of computation not to be found in any of the arithmetics; but in the book that was his rule of faith and practice—the surest way of getting at “the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen.”

In every address that the writer heard from the lips of the saintly Archdeacon Cochrane, he concluded with the words, “May God bless His word for His name’s sake”; and no doubt his every work was begun, continued and ended in the spirit of that prayer, and one has but to cast his eye over the sphere of his forty years of missionary activity to realize that the prayer has been abundantly answered—that God did bless His word, and that it accomplished that whereunto He had sent it.

The Indian school under Mr. Malcolm Cummings was closed in 1865, and it is something worthy of mention, that only sixty-five steps from where his clay-daubed schoolhouse stood, there stands today a magnificent brick and stone building, which, too, is an Indian school, having, however, no known connection with the one that has passed away, which was Anglican and conducted under the auspices of the Church Missionary Society, whereas this is Presbyterian, and was built by the Federal Government and is maintained conjointly by them and the Presbyterian Church.

Mr. Cummings’ school was closed because the Saulteaux of the district had abandoned the apparently honest effort they had made to become civilized. Due to the arrival of settlers from Ontario, and a large influx of fugitive Sioux from South Dakota and Nebraska, they felt that they had to go elsewhere, if they would live by hunting, so they dispersed to their hunting-grounds and the opportunity of the Anglican Church or any other to give them systematic teaching in Portage la Prairie came to an end. It is rather remarkable though that these Saulteaux whose fathers a century before had come to occupy Portage la Prairie and the lower Assiniboine country at the invitation of the Stone Sioux, should now be literally squeezed out of place by the other branch of the Sioux nation—the inveterate foes of themselves and the Assiniboines.

The terrible state of destitution in which the Sioux arrived in the country did not appeal in vain to the compassion of the settlers who did what they could to ameliorate the hardship of their condition; but otherwise avoided encouraging them to remain, it being felt that such a course would be unfair to the Indians of the country; and it was hoped that they would shortly return whence they came, or move on to where their presence would be less likely to cause trouble. When, however, it became evident that these self-invited guests were here for good, the question of what was to be done with them changed to—what was to be done for them. This was a question which, of course, was not to be ignored either by the human or the Christian brotherhood, and when it transpired that some of these Sioux could make a claim on both as some of them were Presbyterians, it then became the duty as well as the privilege of the Presbyterians of Portage la Prairie to move in this matter, and, to their credit be it said, they did not neglect the opportunity. To Mrs. Walker, a good lady who has gone to her reward, belongs the honour of having made a beginning in the good work, by calling together for worship and instruction those Christian Sioux and as many others as she could gather around her. This soon led to the establishment of an Indian boarding school in the east end of the town. In the course of a few years the growth of the school called for the erection of a larger building, and the principal, Rev. Mr. Hendry, was authorized to look out for some suitable site, and with that object in view, and actuated by no motive or design other than that of securing a location that would best provide room for the contemplated expansion, the selection was made and approved and the splendid building already mentioned was erected thereon in 1918; and its nearness to the site of the Anglican school that has passed away might well be regarded as, at least, a remarkable coincidence, while to the humble believer it might well suggest some such thought as that of the Great Master-mind who controls the universe assigning as it were in piece-work the wondrous work of building up the Church of His redeemed, until in the fullness of time all the parts shall be assembled and fitted, and the edifice shall be raised, and on its summit shall be placed by the Master himself the beautiful emblem of His Divine approval, and a multitude which no man can number shall unite their voices in the new song of which the refrain shall be: “We give thanks to Thee for Thy great Glory.”

Of the very few criticisms voiced about Archdeacon Cochrane that the writer can recall, one was to the effect that he was a Presbyterian. The remark was made, because in addition to the liturgy, he habitually used extemporary prayer, and it may also have been with special reference to what his practice had been when he ministered to the Selkirk Colonists as a Chaplain of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Fitting therefore it would seem to be, that if the fragments of his last work for the good of the Indians had to be gathered up by a branch of the Church other than his own, the Presbyterian Church should be the one to engage in the undertaking. But after all, does it matter so very much who plants or who may water so long as the Master’s work be done? When the day arrives which even now is dawning, and all Christians shall be members of One Church, and become a united and happy family, the greatest joy of retrospection awaits those who always regarded God’s field as large enough for every sincere worker, and were wont to give such the right hand of fellowship wishing them God-speed.

The good work among the Indians accomplished by the Missionaries during the Hudson’s Bay regime received a serious set-back in the trying and unsettling conditions connected with the transfer of the country to the Canadian Government. Until five or six years before that event the sale of intoxicants was restricted pretty well to what passed through the hands of the Hudson’s Bay Company. The liquor sold was therefore mostly of good quality, and dealt out with a circumspection that prevented the Indians from getting it easily. Drunkenness up to that time was restricted almost entirely to the braves, and enabled the wives and maidens to live up to the ethics of their race and preserve their chastity, so that there was no appreciable degeneracy of the race either physically or morally; but as the country became better known through the reports of travellers, and later, through that vehicle of intelligence, the Nor’-Wester, there quickly followed the usual harbingers of civilization—an influx of people, and some of them of the class who, through the use of liquor, exercised a degrading influence upon the poor Indians. Once the overland route between the Settlement and St. Paul, U.S.A., came into general use, train after train of Red River carts annually trekked thither, and after being loaded up with merchandise that had come in by the Northern Pacific Railway, returned creaking and squealing their own requiem while rendering this last service to the country now about to consign them to its backyards, in favour of more modern methods of transport. Besides the many things good and useful that came in via St. Paul’s and the Red River cart, there was also a plentiful supply of whiskey; and White men who were less white than the Red men, held the intoxicating cup to the lips of the Indians irrespective of sex, and there was lost to many of their race the virtue whose “price is above rubies.”

Yet in the Red man’s accounting with the Whites he appears to regard himself as the debtor, ready it would seem to forget all injuries and to remember only the benefits he has received and which continue to be freely offered. We may well be surprised at his attitude in the European war. Although exempt from the operation of the military service a very considerable percentage of the Indian population of the Dominion joined the colours and went overseas. They were quite as ready as the Whites to lay down their lives in defence of the Empire. It was in the Indian quota of the Canadian forces that the very pick of scouts and snipers were found, and the soldier serving in either of these capacities is called upon to render the maximum of service with the minimum of protection. A people who could thus take their lives in their hands and stand by the Empire in the day of its trial, have surely shown themselves worthy of the guardian care that has ever been extended to them under British rule; and it is not too much to hope that they are steadily shaking themselves free of the hereditary weaknesses with which they entered the national partnership, and that soon they will be as fit as the Whites to climb, unaided, the uphill grade of civilized life; more particularly now that temperance legislation places the two on a more equal footing in the matter of procuring fire-water, for the cutting off of the White man’s supplies may appeal to the Indian’s sense of fair play, and cause him to apply the strength acquired from long-enforced abstinence, so that he will climb to the top of the hill of temperance, whence he will shout back to his thirsty, unweaned, White brother—“Come on and stop squealing about the government infringing upon the rights of the British subject.”

By way of further brief reference to the Portage Indian School, it is noteworthy that while the efforts of Mrs. Walker were in aid of the Sioux who fled here in 1863, the pupils who now attend the fine school into which that humble beginning developed, are largely of the Saulteaux tribe. We still have the Sioux with us in a little village that lies within the city limits, but much the larger number of Sioux in the country stay further west on the Griswold Reserve, and of the ninety children attending school at present only nineteen are Sioux, and they came from the two places mentioned, while the other seventy-one pupils are Saulteaux, who came from the Long Plain and other reserves.

It is pleasant to think of these children whose parents not so long ago were after each other’s scalps, gathered together under one roof to receive a religious training that will enable them to forget their old tribal aversions while together they qualify for useful and happy citizenship.

It may be interesting to tell here what became of the land at the west end where Archdeacon Cochrane had done mission work among the Indians. The writer has been reliably informed by one who was present in Portage la Prairie at the time of the transfer—about which time this land passed into new hands—that one of the Indians claimed all the land that had been connected with the mission or village, and that he disposed of the whole thing—717 acres—to a pioneer from Ontario for “one buck-skin cayuse.”

Archdeacon Cochrane invariably wrote St. Mary’s parish, Portage la Prairie in the abbreviated form shown above in the heading of this chapter. A day school was opened in connection with St. Mary’s parish in 1854, with Mr. Peter Garrioch as teacher, and as there had not been time to erect a building for the purpose, school was held at his own place.

In taking charge of the first parish school of Portage la Prairie, Mr. Garrioch was repeating in this out-growth of the Red River Settlement—what his father, Mr. William Garrioch, had done there, when at Middle Church, under the Rev. David Jones he became first school teacher in that parish, very shortly after Mr. Harbidge had commenced his scholastic duties at St. John’s.

Like his father, Peter was a man of sincere piety and sterling character, and resembled him also in being of an independent spirit, each in his generation having demonstrated this by opposing the wishes of representatives of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Mr. Garrioch, Senior, had been in the company’s service, and as a Christian and a British subject had claimed his Sundays as days of rest. In the application of the rule he and his superior officer differed, hence Mr. Garrioch’s retirement to Middle Church. Possibly the incident made a strong impression on the mind of the son, for as a young man he took the stand that the Hudson’s Bay Company were not morally entitled to a monopoly of the fur trade, and that they had shown themselves inefficient in their management of the civil affairs of the country. He lived up to his opinions, and on one occasion, he and some others who had some furs to dispose of, resolved that they were to be sold in the neighbouring republic where they would command a better price. Organizing a party at Middle Church they loaded their furs on packsaddles and making a wide detour west of Fort Garry, they struck the Assiniboine west of Sturgeon Creek. There they constructed a raw-hide boat with which they made a hazardous crossing of the river. Thence they made all haste to the domains of Uncle Sam, where they disposed of their furs to some American traders at a paying figure.

More than that, his name appears along with those of James Sinclair, John Dease, John Vincent, William Bird and other leading citizens, who on behalf of the settlers, memorialized the Imperial Government, claiming that they were dissatisfied with the rule of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and desirous of coming under a more stable form of government.

After his introduction to the Americans over the fur trading transaction just described, he moved over to the United States and studied in Canyon College, a theological institution in North Dakota, established by Bishop Ridley. His intention was to enter the ministry, but he abandoned the idea on account of eye trouble, and left the college at the end of his first year. He then entered the service of an American fur trading company, operating in the Missourie country, with whom he stayed over a year. After that he returned to the Red River Settlement in the prime of life and rich in experiences, some of which were of such a romantic character that it is with reluctance they are withheld from these pages. He was of a philosophic turn of mind, and a gifted conversationalist, no doubt in some measure due to his contact with Americans. He was of an even temper, and although a rod was generally in sight, it was rarely heard of or felt, so that it came to be regarded by his pupils not so much an offensive weapon as a badge of office, and if the good order maintained in the school by the force of moral suasion may be taken as a criterion, his leniency was appreciated by his scholars.

The site of the building in which Mr. Garrioch first opened school is now occupied by the palatial residence of the Hon. Hugh Armstrong, on the corner of Crescent Avenue and Elizabeth Street. The house converted into an infant cradle of learning was really Mr. Garrioch’s workshop and as it had neither floor nor windows, the school was transferred to his kitchen for the winter. There were about twenty-five pupils, and at least one-half of them were not M.A., master of the alphabet. School material was so scarce that the greatest economy and ingenuity were necessary in order that everyone might have a little. The alphabet sets in use were nearly all made by hand, and to ensure their safety were securely pasted on to short pieces of board. In the way of writing material there were only slates and pencils and not many of them. In writing the children knelt and used the form as a desk. To economize the small stock of slate pencils, they were given out only in short pieces which were inserted into holders of which an inexhaustible supply was procurable from the acres of reeds growing in the swamp only sixty yards away, the lower joints of the reeds being not only of an attractive reddish colour, but having a hollow of about the right size for inserting a pencil.

By the time Mr. Garrioch had taught one year in his place, a schoolhouse had been completed. It stood one mile east of his place, and about fifty yards north of River Road—one hundred and fifty yards east of the point where Row Street joins or abuts upon River Road. It was a log building of the frame style. It was forty feet by twenty, with walls nine feet under ceiling, was thatch roofed and the walls were daubed within and without with what was then called white mud, which, however, was many shades on the wrong side of white. No paint was laid out on this building except on the blackboard, which, of course was black, but there were white lines on one side to form staves for music. On the sunny side of the building, facing River Road, were three twelve light windows, the lower halves raisable, and underneath them and fastened to the wall, was a desk twenty-five feet in length. A large chimney built against the centre of the west wall was the only means of heating. The chimney end of the building was reserved for the girls, of whom in the school’s best days, there were from twenty-five to thirty. The other and more frigid zone, was allotted to the boys, of whom there were about an equal number, and it goes without saying, that as their faces were instinctively turned toward the warmer place, there were depicted upon them expressions of envy as well as admiration, and also a look of disgust at one’s chivalry having to stand such an icy trial.

One might suppose that the opening of the first school in Portage la Prairie would have been marked by a gathering or function of a kind that would have made an indelible impression on the minds of all in the parish who were interested in education; but although the writer was then well on in his seventh year, and could not help being interested in education, he has no vestige of a recollection of anything special, except a speech from the teacher, Mr. Garrioch, who, after the opening exercise on the first day, expressed his pleasure at our meeting once more as teacher and learners, especially as we did so in a building planned, built and equipped as a school; where it was reasonable to expect that the good beginning made under less favourable circumstances would be followed up diligently and perseveringly. He would do his part, and would ask them to do theirs, and was confident that if this were done results would follow, satisfactory to themselves, their parents and to him.

During the half century that the parish school was an institution of the country connected with the church, the regular salary paid was £40 per annum. Mr. Harbidge who taught at St. John’s, may have received more because he came from England; but other good men such as Gilbert Cook and Mr. Benjamin McKenzie, both of whom later entered the ministry and are still living, Mr. William Inkster who became a leading merchant and died just before the transfer, and Mr. John Norquay, afterward premier of Manitoba—all these men taught at St. John’s for the above figure, and when the writer was in charge there for a period of three years terminating with the transfer, which was followed by the termination of parish schools in general, it never occurred to him to so much as dream of increased pay—the successor of such men, how could I? And besides, £40 was more than ample to meet all my expenses. Mr. Garrioch taught in the St. Mary’s parish school for three years for the above salary, and then took a rest.

By this time well educated men had ceased to be a rarity in the Red River Settlement, for the McCallum Academy established twenty years previously had produced good results; and when in 1849 it was merged into St. John’s Collegiate School under the management of Bishop Anderson, assisted by Rev. Thomas Cochrane, there was an ample supply of men available from that source who were quite competent to take charge of a parish school.

When Mr. Garrioch resigned in 1856, he was succeeded by Henry Laronde, a young Frenchman who came fresh from St. John’s Collegiate School. Mr. Laronde was a thoroughly “good sport.” He frequently joined the boys in their games and could more than hold his own in any manly game. He was beloved of his scholars, some of whom were verging on manhood and womanhood. In 1859, after teaching over two years, he left Portage la Prairie, and shortly after entered the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company, in which sphere he was successful, becoming a richer man than he was likely to have become had he continued in the teaching profession in Portage la Prairie.

The next teacher to take charge of St. Mary’s Parish School was Mr. Benjamin McKenzie, who is a cousin of mine. He also came from St. John’s, where he was a contemporary student with Henry Laronde, and came to Portage equally commended, and with the additional advantage of having had three years’ experience teaching in the parishes of St. James and St. John. He taught for three years, resigning in 1861. His love of neatness which was noticeable on himself was no less so on a little farm he operated in person. During the winter of 1860-61, in addition to the day school work, he assisted Rev. Thomas Cochrane with a night school for men.

In the same year about ten families left Portage la Prairie. They were Andersons, Whitfords and Houses. Mr. McKenzie took this opportunity of seeing for himself, the great West of which he had read and heard so much, so he and the others loaded up their belongings on Red River carts, and trekked westward to Victoria Settlement on the north bank of the North Saskatchewan, one hundred miles east of Edmonton. In that community he was highly respected, being often called upon by his neighbours to straighten out their misunderstandings. After a stay there of several years, he returned to the Red River Settlement, which by that time had become a part of the province of Manitoba. Once more he became a student at St. John’s College, and after the usual course in theology, was admitted to the Christian ministry. Since then he has been in active service, mostly in the Indian Mission field. He is now in his eighty-sixth year and is in charge of the Whytewold Mission on the shores of Lake Winnipeg. Without mentioning his name, Venerable Archdeacon Thomas, General Missionary, in presenting his report to the Diocesan Synod last summer, closed with this reference to Mr. McKenzie:

“There lives not many miles from this city an aged man of God, an alumnus of our own college, who although in his eighty-sixth year, is still in the service of the Church. Every Sunday for many years past this patriarch, leaning upon his staff, has walked a distance of six miles, through swamp and muskeg, ice and snow, that he may carry the saving health to an isolated congregation of natives at the mouth of the river. One Sunday last summer when the temperature was at its highest, this aged servant of the Most High, suffering from a slight stroke, collapsed in the midst of the prayers, and when the frightened members of his little flock returned from the lake with a pail of water, they found him seated in a chair, continuing the services as if nothing had happened, and at the completion of it, with the aid of his staff, walked home alone. I want to tell you, gentlemen, that with regard to the future, we have absolutely nothing to fear as long as this same spirit of heroic devotion in the service of Christ continues to exist in our midst.”

About the year 1859, the educational work at St. John’s was confined to the teaching done in St. John’s Parish School, and about the same time there was an opening for a clergyman at Poplar Point and High Bluff, so Rev. Thomas Cochrane or Mr. Thomas as he was always called, moved up to Portage la Prairie and took up his abode under the parental roof. The two new centres just named had been rapidly settled up from St. Andrew’s and Middle Church in just such a manner as Portage la Prairie itself had been, and the settlers there like those of the Portage were either intimate acquaintances or former parishioners of Archdeacon Cochrane. In favourable weather some of the young people would ride up on their lively little horses to participate in our services at St. Mary’s. Those joy rides soon came to an end when the Archdeacon provided each of the new places with its own church. The one at Poplar Point was named St. Ann’s and the one at High Bluff, St. Margaret’s. In style and in material they were facsimiles of St. Mary’s except that St. Ann’s was ten feet shorter than the others. Of the three it is the only one now standing, and it is still used. Mr. Thomas was in charge of these two new centres for two years, riding or driving down to take the Sunday services. Owing to failing health he resigned in 1862, being succeeded by Rev. John Chapman. He continued, however, to assist his father until the spring of 1863, and it seemed very strange to us to see the Archdeacon occasionally occupy a pew instead of the pulpit. Shortly after Mr. McKenzie gave up the school, Mr. Thomas took it in hand and taught during the winter of 1862-63.

It was in 1862 that the first settlers from Ontario arrived in Portage la Prairie. John McLean with his wife, mother and six children arrived in the spring, and Kenneth McBean with his wife and seven children arrived in the fall. They each sent four boys and girls to school, and when these eight children in as many pairs of boots walked into school one frosty morning, clattering over the floor, in a manner so different from that of the country-born moccasin-wearing pupils, it created quite a diversion which was followed by a long and careful scrutiny of each other’s physiognomy. Then there followed some speculation as to the attainments of these young Canucks, along with the soothing reflection, that at any rate, we had in our teacher, the Rev. Thomas with his Oxford acquirements someone who could teach them something. On trial we discovered that we had been disquieted in vain. I do not know if they were surprised to find out that they knew no more; but we all in our studies within learned to take our respective levels, and by other means known to most boys we ascertained our respective standings without. The East and the West had met within and without the school, and friendly contact and competition had helped to wear off race and birthplace conceits and prejudices; and from time to time might be heard the playful suggestion: “Boy, let us change sisters.”

In the spring of 1863, Mr. Thomas accompanied the plain hunters of Portage la Prairie on their summer buffalo hunt, hoping that the open air and care-free life might benefit his health. At the same time he was induced to take what one may call the buffalo treatment. Tom Anderson, a veteran buffalo hunter and ex-caretaker of St. Mary’s Church, described to the writer and others sitting round a camp-fire one winter night, how he had personally superintended the treatment. There had been a successful run, and from the animals killed a large bull was selected. With all possible haste the viscera was removed from this one, and into the cavity thus vacated—to use the narrator’s own words—“we put Mr. Thomas in, leaving only his head sticking out.” Mr. Anderson, however, admitted that while the operation was successfully performed, the patient did not get well. When the carts returned in August, he was decidedly worse. After a short rest he went on to Toronto. There he was visited by the Archdeacon and Mrs. Cochrane in 1865. After the Archdeacon’s death in the Portage in the same year, Mrs. Cochrane returned to Toronto, where she nursed her son until his death in 1867, when she returned to England there to spend her few remaining years.

When Mr. Thomas resigned the position of school teacher he was succeeded by Mr. Peter Garrioch, who taught till the spring of 1864. His successor was Mr. Joseph Tait of St. Peter’s, a swampy Cree and former parishioner of the Archdeacon. Mr. Tait, as far as his attainments permitted, was faithful in his endeavours to lead his pupils forward along the paths of knowledge; but he was hardly competent to teach the older pupils who had benefitted from the tutorship of graduates of Oxford, St. John’s and Canyon College. He taught school for one year, and fortunately during the latter part of his tenure of office, was assisted by the new incumbent, Rev. Henry George, who taught history, geography and grammar to the more advanced pupils.

In 1866 the writer left school, an incident particularly well fixed in his mind because it was followed by a second, which, of course, it is not pretended was in any way connected with the first, and that was the pulling down of the schoolhouse and its reconstruction near the church and parsonage.

The readers and spellers used in St. Mary’s Parish School were the same as all those used in all the parish schools in the Red River Settlement. They were published by the S.P.C.K., and were the same as those used in most parish schools in England at that time. As soon as the pupil had well mastered the lower grades he was transferred to the New Testament or second class, and when able to read well in any of the four gospels, he passed on to the Bible or first class. Once a week the whole school was resolved into a single class, and instructed in the church Catechism.

During the fifty years that the Church Parish School system was in vogue in this country, the Bible—the first class Book—the Book for all classes, never had its place usurped by any book of more modern but less Divine conception, and even if it did become expedient to adapt the old system to changing conditions, it did not necessarily follow that the Bible teachings which all need, and which are the only sure foundations of all learning, had to be effaced from the curriculum, and subjects added for which many pupils have little need, and less time, taste or talent.

During Archdeacon Cochrane’s pastorate of twelve years in Portage la Prairie, it has to be admitted that the earlier years were more peaceful than the latter, for until 1857 the settlers did not appear to have any more occasion to discuss legislation or litigation than their first parents had in the garden of Eden; but from that on until a proper survey of their lots had been made under proper authority, as first one and then another began to lengthen out his furrows and extend his snake fences, there were unpleasant evidences furnished of the serious disadvantages of the S-like form of the Settlement in which they had located. At the upper or western curve of the Settlement there was no trouble, for we have seen that the Indians placed so little value on their land that they were not likely to quarrel over it, and for some distance S.E. from there the settlers could run their lines on the principles of the Hudson’s Bay Company survey—that of taking the river as a base-line and running their lines therefrom in the direction of the polar star; but by no such arrangement could a mix-up be averted at the lower or eastern curve of the Settlement. Unlike the Bungee who later sold the entire Indian end of the Z for a cayuse, the people at the other end would not have parted with theirs for many cayuses; not that they were greedy, but they simply wanted to extend their lines far enough to enclose as much land as would be worth calling a farm. The situation was practically thus: There were about ten settlers located on the sides of a right angle, about an equal number on each side, and with lots varying in width from two to twelve chains. Whether by agreement or instinct the writer cannot say, but they all took their side of the right angle as their base, and extended their lines at right angles to the said base towards the lines of their neighbours approaching theirs from the other side. Of course, the lines were not extended very far until they intersected, and the nearer the apex of the right angle the sooner the clash occurred. He who was ambitious or industrious enough to get to the point of intersection first and go right on with his snake fence or first furrows, was in no instance forced to give up his improvements; but he was made to feel that he had committed an unfriendly act, and his conscience could not fail to let him know that he had not done unto his neighbour as he would like his neighbour to have done unto him, and well he knew that his neighbour had just as good a right as he to get there first, and that he might have done so had he been a little smarter, or a little greedier, or a little more something else.

In 1857 it was deemed advisable that there should be organized some sort of local government to deal with troubles arising from this or other causes, and a council was formed much on the lines of the neighbouring one of Assiniboia. The Council of Portage la Prairie was composed of at least six councillors, a president, a secretary or clerk, a magistrate or judge, and two constables; and it will be seen that, like other governments, it held itself responsible for the administration as well as the making of laws. Probably for so small a place a court of arbitration composed of three or four persons might have answered the purpose fully better, particularly as some of the leading citizens were on record as having not always acted in harmony with the wishes of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who might well suspect a rival in an organization that designated itself by the pretentious title of, the Council of Portage la Prairie; although it must be said that any hostility the company may have shown was easier to bear than the jocular references to the Portage Government made in speech, letter or print by some of the humorously inclined in the Red River Settlement—for, be it remembered, the Nor’-Wester was established in December, 1859, and the Portagees as they were afterwards called, came in for their fair share of attention.

To say that the Council of Portage la Prairie did no good would be incorrect. It was evidently regarded by Archdeacon Cochrane as an organization that was not uncalled for, and which under proper direction was fitted to be of benefit to the community, and while he abstained from taking part in its proceedings, he attended some of its meetings and when he did so, always opened with prayer and then retired. One thing the councillors and settlers soon found out was, that a misunderstanding which, out of court, was between two individuals, once taken into court, grew into a contention between clans. What was needed to make a success of the council was a man of education from outside, some one independent of the few large families or septs that comprised the small population of the place; but by the time such a man could have been obtained there was no Council of Portage la Prairie, and there was no longer need of it. Perhaps while the council did exist, it was seen at its best when passing a vote of censure on some offender, and the writer recalls a conversation of two councillors who described the humiliation shown by a certain party who had been censured for defamation of character. In general, for the court to have given a decision adverse to the defendant, and to have attempted to enforce that decision, nolens volens, would have been to impose upon itself some hard work that it was not competent to perform.

On several occasions there was trouble owing to an infraction of a regulation respecting the non-obstruction of public roads. The first instance of this occurred when an old gentleman, Jimuk Whitford, who lived on the bank of the swamp—or to use up-to-date terms, on Crescent Road on Parish Lot No. 90—ran his fences across this road and into the swamp. Jimuk was the father of many sons, all of whom except one were married, in fact all the Whitfords that are on the list of parishioners were sons of his or his brother Peter. They were mighty hunters, and respectable and peace-loving enough; but in any farming they undertook they studied how to make it easy, and right here Jimuk and his sons thought they saw a chance of eating their bread with a minimum expenditure of the sweat of their faces, so instead of leaving the road which skirts the swamp open, as it probably had been as far back as the fifteenth century, and as was now required by law, they extended their side fences across it and into the slough. Promptly the offenders were informed that their action was an infringement on the rights of the public, and an infraction of Regulation No. ...., and they were ordered to remove the obstruction from the thoroughfare by a certain date. No notice being taken of this “Order-in-Council,” twenty men marched up the road at the date named in the order and threw down the fences; but hardly had the last of them reached their homes when the fences were put back. As an instance of the inconsistency of man, and of how “circumstances alter cases,” it is noteworthy that one of the settlers who on this occasion helped to clear this road soon afterwards bought the place, after which the offensive fences were no longer offensive to him.

The Council of Portage la Prairie decided they had gone as far as was prudent and compatible with self-respect, and the matter was dropped; so when Kenneth McBean in 1862 acquired the adjoining lot north—now Parish Lot 70—there was no Crescent Road in sight, but on the land that he had acquired was a small detached triangular portion, bounded on the east by River Road, on the west by the swamp or Crescent Lake and on the south by the northern boundary of Parish Lot 90. Within this triangular area and on the site of the defunct thoroughfare Mr. McBean erected his buildings, and when he sold out a subsequent owner converted this portion of land into an orchard.

In 1880 when Portage la Prairie was incorporated as a town, its council re-acquired the southern portion of the old thoroughfare, at that time unused as such, and legally claimed as private property, the object being to provide direct means of communication between the town and the settlers south of the river, by means of this road and a bridge that was under contemplation. The site of the defunct thoroughfare was easily re-acquired except where it passed through the triangular orchard, whose owner valued it so highly that the council decided not to hurt his feelings by expropriation. This jag in the road therefore remains; but as the triangular garden is now owned by the Provincial Government, probably by a wise exercise of the franchise the citizens will some day succeed in having this crooked way made straight; but it should not be too long deferred, for even now the story of this deflection of the road from its original position begins to appeal to our antiquarian instincts claiming our respect as a relic of “ye olden times.”

It sometimes looks as if the affairs of this life were so ordered, that when our individual or community troubles, which so oft are self-created and unnecessary, have grown to undue proportions, there is suddenly projected into their midst some trouble which is entirely different and acts as a diversion, causing the others to be laid on the shelf while the new one is receiving attention; and in 1863 Portage la Prairie had a trouble-absorber of this kind in the arrival of the fugitive Sioux from Dakota, when, as if by mutual consent, the intersecting of parish lots, the obstructing of thoroughfares and other kindred troubles were laid aside, in order that this last one might be unitedly confronted. Previously to this the Council of Portage la Prairie had not been bothered by an Indian policy because they got along better with the Indians than with themselves; but with this unexpected invasion by a foreign tribe, they felt themselves to be in a situation that called for diplomatic handling, for well they knew that the deadly hate existing between the Sioux and the Ojibeway was such that the two could not be expected to live side by side in peace, while the hunting grounds of the latter were being ruined by the Sioux. Nor could they forget that for many years during their annual buffalo hunt, English, French, Ojibeway and Cree, had found it necessary to hunt together in large parties for mutual protection of life and property against the attacks of their common foe—the predatory Sioux, and the unfortunate stragglers from such a camp who fell into the hands of the Sioux whatever his or her nationality, received no favours. Mrs. Tom Anderson, wife of our next door neighbour, always had her head tied about with a handkerchief because when a little girl she had been scalped by the Sioux. And now in the day of trouble they fly for succour to the people they had so often wronged. Perhaps it was the guilty consciousness of what they richly deserved that led them to say—according to the historian Hargrave—that they had come to die with the settlers rather than die in the snowdrifts. According to the same authority they claimed they were following instructions in fleeing into British territory, inasmuch as they had been told by the British at the time of the Anglo-American war that if ever they got into trouble with the Americans they were to place themselves under British protection and the folds of the flag of the north would wrap them round, and in confirmation of their statements they produced some medals and flags of the reign of George III. Asked how they could tell an American from an Englishman, they said they had three marks: The Americans used wagons and mules and had white faces, and the English used horses and carts and had red faces. Besides, says Hargrave, they had other signs—a nasal twang and “I guess,” cost more than one American his life.

The Council of Assiniboia generously made a grant of £350 to be given the Sioux in the form of provisions, and no doubt they were encouraged on the strength of that meat to disembarrass the Settlement of their presence at the earliest date possible. One or two of the citizens took a less British way of ridding the country of at least two of them. Little Six and Medicine Bottle were drugged, kidnapped and turned over to Major Hatch who at the time was in charge of the American troops at Pembina. The act was severely commented on by many good citizens of that day; and to the Sioux, who were likely more loyal to Little Six than to George III., it must have imparted a slightly bitter flavour to the £350 donation. Probably it was necessary to wrap the Medicine Bottle to keep it from freezing; but it was a sorry way of fulfilling the royal promise that the Sioux would be wrapped in the folds of the flag of the North.

Through the Nor’-Wester the arrival of this band of five hundred Sioux at Fort Garry was soon known in the Republic of Portage la Prairie, and as may be supposed, became an absorbing topic of conversation. A meeting of the council was called, and in an informal manner a sort of general policy was outlined; the visitors were to be helped with food and clothing, and then assisted to move on to some place where they could hunt for their living without seriously interfering with the hunting grounds of the Saulteaux. Adepts from experience in dealing diplomatically with the Indians, the settlers soon made it evident to the observant Sioux and Saulteaux, that although they had sometimes been involved in their conflicts on the plains, they did not expect anything of the kind at headquarters. Archdeacon Cochrane spoke on the matter from the pulpit, saying little about what these Indians had done or deserved, but a good deal about what they needed and what might be done to assist them, and as usual he exemplified in practice what he laid down in precept. Moved to it by the charitable sympathy of their pastor, and the spectacle of misery presented to them by these poor creatures, the settlers without exception helped them to the full extent of their means. The Sioux never got over the kindness shown them that winter, and although later on they were shown by some of the settlers that their presence in the Settlement was not desired, although they did leave from time to time; as if they could not tear themselves away, it was not long till they were back again, and they are with us still. Like pet animals which, the longer retained, are the harder to get rid of, or like the jag in the road on the way to the Sioux village, we have got so used to them, and influenced it may be by sentiment, we leave the man who talks about getting rid of them to go to and do it himself, if he can find the heart.

When the Sioux arrived in the Portage they quite surprised the settlers by showing that they possessed the one quality that they had ceased to expect from the Indians with whom they had had to do, and that was a readiness to cheerfully undertake any work they were asked to do. In another direction they showed that they were like our own Indians—good feeders, only a little more so. We were prepared to find them hungry after their long privations, but hardly quite prepared for the non-fastidious and comprehensive appetites which they exhibited.

It chanced that in 1863 my father had a phenomenal crop of potatoes, and after filling the house cellars, dumped the surplus—about four hundred bushels—into a hole that had been intended for a windmill. Although well covered, owing to the exposed situation they were nearly all frozen. The frozen ones were thrown out, and under the hot spring sun soon became like so many wet sponges. The squaws set to work upon them with their knives, cutting them into slices which they spread in the sun to dry. Thus treated, they were shrivelled and of a chocolate colour. Flavoured with a bone or a little bit of meat, the Indians said they made a good soup. Perhaps? But it didn’t look good.

We had an old horse—Busk—who had gone into the bush and over-feasted on goose-grass, and then came home and died at the stable door. He was buried in the dunghill not far away. Some four days afterwards his resting-place was discovered by the squaws, and when they had exhumed his body and found out how fat it was, they laughed and said, “waste, boys,” “good, boys”; and when they left the spot nothing of Busk remained but the contents of the viscera and a few grey hairs. This semi-putrid or semi-digested food seemed to agree with them, for they were always in the best of health and in the most exuberant spirits, which they showed by incessantly singing and drumming.

Their singing and dancing was much superior to that of the Saulteaux or Crees, and once they found that these accomplishments of theirs attracted attention, and were considerably appreciated, they proceeded to give house-to-house performances, going from one end of the Settlement to the other, accepting at the close of each performance whatever food might be offered to them. They certainly did not bury their talent in a napkin, but by the time they had gone once through the Settlement they could plainly see that their festive performances were no longer in demand.

After that, the sound of the drum was to be heard chiefly in their camp, but, unfortunately, nearly always at night, when the Waseejou, as they call the English, would have liked a better way of being soothed to sleep after a hard day’s work in the field getting in their seed grain. The settlers who were most disturbed by these nightly incantations were my father and John James Setter whose dwelling houses and the centre of the Sioux camp could respectively have been selected as an apex of an equilateral triangle of which the sides would be one hundred and twenty yards. Mr. Setter one calm, dark night invited us to come over to his place and assist in stopping the racket. At the respective ages of seventeen and fifteen my brother and I were evidently not as yet full-fledged men as to caution and prudence; but we were old enough to appreciate the fact that a full-grown and good looking man had paid such a compliment to our courage as to ask us to join him in an undertaking which we felt was not unattended with danger; and there was another fact which we were old enough to appreciate—he had a very nice looking young sister-in-law, and to enjoy her smiles we were both willing to emulate the stories of adventure we had heard from the lips of veteran hunters, or the achievements of some of Captain Marriot’s heroes, with which we were equally familiar. We three men and the two ladies entered into a compact that night to say nothing of what was about to be done, until we mutually decided that it should be prudent to do otherwise. We three then took our double barrels, heavily charged with shot, and under Mr. Setter’s leadership approached the camp near enough to distinguish the tops of the lodge-poles which were the targets agreed upon, lest by aiming lower someone might get hurt. Ranging ourselves side by side, we took deliberate aim, and after discharging our guns, beat a hasty and noiseless retreat. Our shooting proved an effective quietus. In that particular spot there followed a dead silence which continued for the space of one year.

In relating so fully the foregoing story of a rash and foolish affair the writer has hewn to the line, though it hurts to see the chips fall where they do; but there is some comfort in the reflection that at any rate, I have been fair, explicit and accurate, and who knows, the story may sound a note of warning to those who are wont to inflict a musical racket upon their neighbours, while those so afflicted may learn in the sequel to the story, which now follows, that under most circumstances it is as well to “grin and bear it.”

The Indians were not long in discovering who had committed the unfriendly act, and like most people who are the subjects of a practical joke, they did not admire it at all. To add to the difficulty, there was no interpreter except a Sioux woman. Mary, as she was called, could speak English well enough but not without the twang and “I guess” of the American very much in evidence. Very naturally Mary’s sympathies were with her own people, besides she was probably hungry as the rest of them, and made the most of every murmur she heard, and a partial interpreter may do more harm than good. At any rate, it was deemed wise to convince the Sioux that their shot-peppered tent poles were no indication of the feeling of the community towards them. For this purpose a meeting of the council was called, at which it was decided that my father and Mr. Setter should each pay something to the Indians; but as my father was already finding three Indians in food, besides helping others by giving them work, he considered that the joke was a pretty rough one if there was much more coming to them. He however asked them over and soothed their feelings with a good treat of buffalo meat, after which they went away pleased and started to shift camp.

By a strange coincidence the nearest house to their next encampment was that of David Cusitar said to be a distant relative of General Custer, who with a detachment of American troops was ambushed about this time, when all but one man was killed.

To do the Indians justice they seemed to try to avoid repeating the offence which they had innocently committed at their last encampment, so in this new place they allowed four times the distance between them and the nearest house, and doubtless they supposed that at such a distance they could safely renew their nightly orgies without interfering with anybody’s nightly slumbers. So they started in as lustily as ever. Mr. Cusitar was a hard working Orkneyman and very well to do; but probably his nerves were no better than Mr. Setter’s, and after putting up with the noise for a time he would appear to have reasoned that he could afford his little joke as well Mr. Setter, and standing one night in front of his house, he emptied the six chambers of his revolver in the direction of the Sioux camp. Another meeting of the council was called. Mr. Cusitar owned up to what he had done, and gave his reasons. He consented to pay a fine. He said he would turn over a little ox to the Indians if they would promise that as soon as they had eaten it they would remove to where they could spend their nights as they pleased without interfering with the comfort of the neighbourhood.

When Mr. Cusitar had complied with his part of the undertaking, the Indians did not take long to comply with theirs, and as they licked their lips over the last savoury morsel, if they saw any cloud between them and the Waseejou, doubtless they also perceived the proverbial silver lining, in the provisions that had come with the cloud and had helped to line their stomachs.

Looking back on those early days the writer feels that some of us did play with fire; and yet somehow we were delivered from evil, a kind Providence being pleased to show us that our confidence was well placed, by giving us favour in the eyes of the Sioux, who acted as if they knew that the very hairs of our heads were all numbered, and not to be dealt with as in by-gone days. The taking of the life of a human being—provided it were that of a Sioux—they appeared to consider very much an affair of their own, and it was only too evident that the settlers did not wholly disapprove of the distinction.

One day in early winter, when we were engaged in threshing our wheat from the stack, we noticed three Sioux approaching us along a path that passed hard by. They were walking in Indian file, and when they had passed us by about thirty yards, the one in the centre placed the muzzle of his gun against the body of the one in front, a report followed, and the Indian fell over to the right in the snow. We stopped our outfit and went over to the fallen Indian, whom we found to be a man, who evidently only the minute before had been in the pink of health and in the prime of life. Two Sioux, who were helping us thresh, examined the body, pointing out that a bullet had passed through it in the region of the heart, and that life was quite extinct. In answer to a question as to why he had been shot down we were told by Jim in broken English—and Charlie corroborated his statement by sundry nods—that the man who had fired the fatal shot was so-and-so, that he had acted as the avenger of blood for himself and family, that the act, according to national usage was quite in order, that the particulars were well known and that the climax just witnessed would have occurred sooner had time and place been equally propitious. In about one half hour from the time that this Indian was shot, his blanket with his body therein was taken hold of at the four corners by as many men—Jim and Charlie in front, and my uncle, William Garrioch and my father behind, and with my brother and an Indian boy and myself as the rest of the cortege, his body was thus borne one hundred yards south-west from where it fell, and there on the west bank of Garrioch’s Creek it was laid in a grave eighteen inches deep without any ceremony other than a regretful remark or a sigh—our threshing was then resumed.

When spring was verging into summer, and summer fowl, fish and muskrat could be procured in large numbers from the creeks and marshes along Lake Manitoba, most of the Sioux left the Settlement and camped there. In doing so they were infringing more seriously than ever on the rights of our old friends the Saulteaux of the district, but probably these Saulteaux were sufficiently under Missionary and Hudson’s Bay influence to prefer enduring an injury rather than revenge themselves by a murderous attack on the Sioux camp; but evidently the Ojibeway of Red Lake had not become amenable to such merciful influences. Pacheetoo who came from somewhere across the line, and when he left Portage, probably retired whence he came, gets the credit, perhaps undeservedly, of having sent a message to his congeners over there to come and assist in ridding the country of the old foe—the Pwatuk. Whether invited or not they came, and evidently with intent to do their worst to the Sioux, and to return to Red Lake only after they had obtained as many souvenirs of their visit in the shape of scalps, as was compatible with a due regard to the safety of their own.

The war party that came appears to have camped for some time in the vicinity of Fort Garry, from which point they visited Portage or neighbourhood on at least two separate occasions. On their first visit they made a night attack on the Sioux camped near Manitoba Lake, killing six, and wounding many others so seriously that sixteen deaths resulted.

It was probably the same party that later visited Portage and stayed for at least one night and part of a day in Pacheetoo’s house. On the day of their arrival an old swampy Cree woman, known as Mrs. Jack Spence, was passing the house on her way home with two ox-carts loaded with hay—she in charge of the first, with a Sioux lad coming on behind in charge of the other. Two or three young braves, or more correctly, cowards, were concealed below the bank a little west of the jag in the road in Parish Lot 70, and when the lad came opposite they rushed upon the poor fellow, shooting him down and scalping him, after which they cut his body into small pieces, and left them in a heap by the roadside. That was bad enough but hardly as disgusting as what occurred when four Sioux were treacherously shot down likely by the same party somewhere between Fort Garry and St. James; there not “only man was vile,” but the squaws if anything, were more so, and they all glutted their savagery by eating their victims, tearing at their flesh with teeth like so many wolves.

When occurrences such as the foregoing were faithfully reported in Canada and other parts of the British Empire through the medium of the “Nor’-Wester” we may believe that a feeling would grow against the continuance of the Hudson’s Bay Company rule, for who could resist the conclusion that if cannibalism was being practised with impunity by savages within two or three miles of the seat of authority, it was high time that the British subjects living there should be provided some more reliable guarantees of protection; and the “Nor’-Wester” in coming when it did, was not only the harbinger of the change that was to follow, but a potent factor in the expediting of the change. The prospectus which appeared in the first issue dated December 28, 1859, shows that its proprietors, Messrs. Buckingham & Coldwell regarded their little sheet as a sort of “voice in the wilderness,” but one which would not be silenced until it had fulfilled its important mission. It reads as follows:

“The undersigned have now commenced the publication of a newspaper in the Red River Settlement near Fort Garry, entitled the “Nor’-Wester,” and devoted to the varied and rapidly growing interests of that region. . . .” The resources of the country were then praised, and an advantageous change referred to, which the establishment of a printing press could not fail to hasten. . . . In its policy it was to be “tied to no set of men. It will be a faithful chronicler of events, a reporter assiduous and impartial.”

The first apprentice of Messrs. Buckingham & Coldwell was my oldest brother, W. F. Garrioch. He learned the work thoroughly and liked it; but its confined character ill suited his constitution, and he contracted pulmonary trouble of which he died after a lingering illness.

The “Nor’-Wester” has been blamed by some as having been unreasonably antagonistic to the rule of the Hudson’s Bay Company. The writer, who has many reasons to feel very kindly towards that old corporation, has no hesitation in saying that the paper, while under the control of its first proprietors, and later of Mr. James Ross, was considered by unprejudiced readers as very fair in the stand it took in all public questions. My own impression is that it lived conscientiously up to a motto that appeared for a long time under its title—“Naught extenuate nor aught set down in malice.” To still further safeguard a reputation for fairness, its correspondence columns were often headed in italics: “In opening our columns to correspondents we wish it to be distinctly understood that we do not thereby mean to adopt their views.” Among other items in the first number is a letter from Mr. S. J. Dawson in which he announces his discovery of an excellent route between the Red River Settlement and the Lake of the Woods. There is much to set one thinking in turning over those old files of the paper, for instance, in the issue of January 28th, 1860, there is an account of a succession of religious services held in the churches, beginning from Headingly and extending downwards to St. Peter’s. The following are mentioned as having taken part, viz.: Revs. Archdeacon Hunter, G. O. Corbet, W. H. Taylor, John Chapman, John Black (Presbyterian), A. Cowley and Robert McDonald. The object of the meetings was to obtain an out-pouring of the Holy Spirit. Sixty years ago our fathers and mothers had got that near to Church union—are we anywhere nearer today? In the issue of January 14, 1860, the names of all the Anglican clergy in the diocese were given. There were twenty. In the same issue there is also a letter from Mr. James Ross, in which he states that between the years 1850-1860 there had been a decadence in education which he attributed to the teachers not being as efficient as their predecessors of the previous thirty years. Still in the same issue, it is announced that Mr. Ross, M.A., who graduated with high honours from Toronto University, is to be from that date associated with Messrs. Buckingham & Coldwell in the editing of the paper. Then in the issue of January 28, 1860, there is the report of a speech by Archdeacon Cochrane himself. It is headed, “A Most Laughter-provoking Speech,” and it proceeds: “On the 10th instant the Venerable Archdeacon Cochrane addressed the parishioners of St. John’s and many of the inhabitants of the adjoining district. . . . .” Undoubtedly the Archdeacon was enterprising and progressive, although if he lived in these days I doubt very much if he would belong to the political party which has just come into existence and calls itself by that name. The Archdeacon’s subject was evidently the Red River Settlement, and in an amusing manner he scored its inhabitants for a lack of enterprise. Mr. William Coldwell was a splendid stenographer; but if he joined in all the laughter which was recorded in parenthesis, he must have had the time of his life to keep time with the speaker. The audience was informed of the rapid strides in industries and commerce made by some other new countries, and it was asked to compare with that what had been done in the now rather old Red River Settlement whose importations were so large, while its exports were confined almost entirely to the skins of wild animals. In connection with the “Nor’-Wester,” only twelve days old at the time he was speaking, he said: “It is really astonishing how blind some men are to their own interests. I lately heard of no less than eight debating gentlemen subscribing for one copy. . . .” Then he told of some one saying to him, “We have got a newspaper now. Did you see so-and-so in the paper?” “Yes,” I replied, “I saw it.” He said: “We must be careful because if we are found doing anything wrong it will get into the newspaper.”

Without any question the “Nor’-Wester” was a boon to the settlers, bringing to them regularly in reliable form the news of the day both domestic and foreign. So great was the general confidence in its veracity, that in any wordy conflict, the disputant who could support his assertion by saying, “I saw it in the Nor’-Wester,” was supposed to have placed the matter beyond dispute. Among beneficial effects it encouraged the people to take a more intelligent interest in public affairs and afforded opportunity as well as incentive to assert themselves in that connection. Besides keeping its readers posted in the home and foreign news of the day, it furnished in both prose and poetry some splendid selections that made profitable reading at a time when good reading was none too plentiful.

At the age of fourteen the writer fell in love at first sight with the following lines which appeared over the initials F. L. H., and were committed to memory then and there, perhaps to be hereafter repeated—to use the concluding lines of the poem itself—“As in the days of old”:

Another of its selections was a poem entitled “Far Away,” by an anonymous writer. It is given in Mr. Joe Hargrave’s History, in connection with his remarks about the “Nor’-Wester”; and Mr. R. B. Hill in his History, remarks on his having done so and follows his example. The following is the poem:

After being in the country one year Mr. Buckingham disposed of his interest in the “Nor’-Wester” to Mr. Ross, after which it was edited conjointly by Messrs. Ross & Coldwell.

In the winter of 1862-63 they paid a visit to Portage la Prairie, and during their short stay were guests at the parsonage. One forenoon they visited the day school, and at the invitation of Rev. Thomas Cochrane, Mr. Ross examined the Bible class in reading, spelling and scripture history. In the afternoon he delivered a lecture in the schoolhouse for the benefit of older folks. The building was crowded, for the settlers were proud of their gifted fellow-countryman, firmly believing that he had no equal in the Red River Settlement. The writer who considered that he had some claim on the school, made it a point to be present, and sat next to Mr. Coldwell—i.e., Mr. Coldwell sat next to me, for I had planted myself down in the usual place against the twenty-five foot desk, and never shall I forget my satisfaction when the only stenographer in the country planted himself so close to my left elbow that no one could have displaced me without rudeness, nor shall I ever forget my boyish astonishment when his hand began to fly over the paper leaving in its wake the most extraordinary figures I had ever seen, and I settled it in my mind that in his own way Mr. Coldwell was as wonderful a man as Mr. Ross himself. The audience, however, had no eyes for the former, for like his neighbour he was diminutive in size and unassuming in manner. Mr. Ross, on the other hand, was a man of commanding appearance, and as, with flashing eye he turned first one way and then another as he spoke, he rivetted the attention of his hearers in a manner that was fine to see. He was often cheered, but there was no laughter, for he did not attempt to be funny; and the absence of a joke, or of words big enough to send me to Walker’s dictionary soon as I got home rather surprised and disappointed me.

Mr. Ross as I think it now showed his ability and good judgment not only in what he said but in his manner of saying it. He easily and naturally adapted himself to that one half of his audience of whom hardly any could be called educated. His speech was about impending changes and how to face them and turn them to good account. Though it was fifty years ago that I heard the lecture, it would seem to have stuck better than most others that I have heard since. Perhaps it was because I was at that time of life when one is liable to take a lively interest in anything that promises to beneficially affect the food supply; and the lecturer was full of the advantages bound to accrue when the all-Canadian route had become an accomplished fact. He put it something like this (note the simplicity of the language): “The kind of goods you are now using, if brought to you over this route would cost you very little over half what you have to pay for them now. Tea for which you now pay five shillings a pound would cost you only two shillings and six pence or at most three shillings; sugar for which you now pay eight pence a pound would cost not more than five pence, while tobacco and ammunition and all other goods would come down in price in the same way.” From the way in which the eyes of his hearers sparkled, his remarks were evidently appreciated, and he could have secured many recruits then and there to assist in opening up the Dawson route. Of course, just then nobody thought about the other side of the picture; but later on we did—when we got hungry for duck, and could not as before take down our flint-lock, and going to the nearest pond or stream, return in a few minutes with a toothsome brace of ducks; or when we looked for furs and game where in pleasurable sport we had secured abundance, we found them growing scarcer and scarcer, while with the 2/6 tea and the five pence sugar we had unconsciously cultivated a taste for luxuries, and so through a process sometimes pleasant and sometimes the reverse, we passed out of the old civilization into the new for better or for worse.

When the chosen people had reached the land of promise and eaten of the food it produced, then the manna on which they had lived in the wilderness was out of their bill of fare. So it ever will be. When we have reached the stage of civilization that we wanted, we can then look back—and perhaps do so regretfully—to the manna and the quails that took wings and flew away, once we emerged from the wilderness. It is sometimes like that to the children of the patriarchs who in 1853 came from Middle Church and St. Andrew’s to Portage la Prairie. There was in those days a beautiful bird about the size of an Oriole, which used to chant from the trees in the early morn with remarkable distinctness the words, “Did you read?” a query that my father generally prompted us to be able to answer in the affirmative. That bird gradually disappeared, and—explain it who will—it was never heard again after the first Canadians from Ontario located in Portage la Prairie. But what was more easily noticed and more keenly felt, during that first decade of the Settlement of Portage la Prairie by Ontario people, was the disappearance—totally of some and partially of others—of birds and animals fit for food whose previous abundance made farming almost seem superfluous to those of the community who found more pleasure in following the chase than in the pursuit of agriculture. An instance of complete and astounding disappearance is that of the wood pigeon, now placed on the list of extinct birds. In those days those birds used to skirt the woods of this district, flight after flight in broken ranks that extended for miles. The numbers that passed some mornings in the course of a single hour, must certainly have reached into the tens of thousands. In autumn when they were working on the stubble or perched on a snake fence it was not uncommon to get ten or twelve at one shot; and in the month of June forty, fifty, or sixty could be caught in a single draw of a net stretched across a square frame made of four poles fastened at the ends. They were clean and beautiful birds resembling in shape and colour the wild doves that are still in the country, and never to be seen except in pairs. In size they were between the dove and the prairie chicken and resembled the latter in plumpness and flavour. The writer has pleasant recollections of this bird, so beautiful in life, and afterward so delicious as a component part of sea-pie. Since writing the foregoing, Mr. C. G. Abbot of the Smithsonian Institute has kindly sent me the following: “The passenger pigeon (or wild pigeon) became extinct as a wild bird shortly after the year 1900, possibly about 1904, but an individual in the Cincinnati Zoological Gardens lived until September 1, 1914, marking the actual date of the extinction of the species.”

Of course, in those days it did not do to be too fastidious, and besides the wood-pigeon, than which bird there never was a cleaner, we sometimes, by way of a change, or an accommodation to circumstances, might make a meal of mud-hen—which, called water-hen sounds better, and tastes all right—or we might dine on muskrat or lynx; and those of the N.B. male population who were enterprising enough to try it for themselves will tell you that even the odoriferous polecat when properly dressed and served is easily comparable to that acknowledged delicacy, sucking pig; and no doubt consistency demands that so long as we regard swine’s flesh permissible—the ceremonial law and the creature’s habits notwithstanding—we are in all fairness obliged to admit that the other creatures named are equally fit for food, and are to be received with thanksgiving whether partaken of from choice or necessity.

The nearest approach to hardship experienced by the early settlers was due to the lack of proper milling facilities, there being nothing better in the district for some years than a few pairs of querns, a contrivance which may be described as a small pair of mill-stones, of which the upper was turned by hand. The wheat ground in these querns was usually first parched, and the meal thus produced was used unsifted, and mixed with milk to any consistency that might suit the individual taste; but the usual way was to use only sufficient milk to permit of the meal being pressed by hand into small pats. In this form it was called busten, and some of the poorer children brought it regularly to school as their lunch. My father had little use for either the querns or their product, and until the school and church had been built and his own log buildings erected, he procured what flour we needed from the Red River Settlement. Then he gave his attention to the subject of a grist-mill, and finding that an old neighbour, William Bird, in his previous parish of Middle Church, was going out of the milling business, he purchased his windmill, but by the time he had gone so far as to dig the hole for this public utility, he decided that his place was not suited for a mill driven by the wind, so he sold out to John Hodgson, who erected the mill on his place, only a few yards from where Archdeacon Cochrane first held his religious services. Mr. Hodgson was a fine elderly man about six feet in height, and was probably a picked man when he had accompanied Dr. Franklin on some of his northern explorations. Before his death, there had somehow got to be an exaggerated version of what John had seen on one of those journeys, it being claimed that he had seen the North Pole which was a tremendous affair projecting out of the earth and badly off the perpendicular. There is no doubt that Mr. Hodgson did his best by everybody; but his experiences as a miller could not have been very peaceful, for the people had been so long without a sufficiency of bread that their grinders worked faster than those of the mill, and however hard it might blow its capacity never seemed to be quite equal to that of the people.

After the year 1871, William M. Smith, familiarly known as Billy Smith, put up a steam grist-mill. The mill so well supplied the long felt need that its owner deserved to have been regarded as a benefactor and to have for a time a monopoly of the milling industry in the locality; and for a year or so he did have such a monopoly; but in 1872, a second steam grist-mill owned by a Mr. Logan and others was put up a little farther west along Crescent Lake, and from that time onward there has always been an abundance of flour in this place.

After disposing of the windmill, my father, who was always interested in machinery, set about the construction of a threshing machine. He made in all three power-wheels, the second and third larger and stronger than its predecessor. Horses and oxen supplied the driving power. With the smaller wheels only four were used; but it took eight to turn the final and largest one. This wheel was about twenty-two feet in diameter, so large, in fact, that it was overhead of the cattle as they circled around. With the exception of blacksmithing, all the work in the entire contrivance, including cylinder and straw carrier, was his own work. The rim of the wheel was one foot deep, and consisted of three layers of felloes made of two and a half inch plank, interlapped and bolted together so as to break joints, and give to every part great and equal strength. In this massive circle of oak there were let in hundreds of cogs, which were about two inches thick, two and a half inches high and eight inches wide or deep, and their tenons passed right through the rim of the wheel and were forelocked underneath. To support the wheel in its place an immense oak spindle stood under its centre, and round this spindle about fifteen or eighteen inches from its base, oak braces were fastened and extended thence to the rim of the wheel. Besides these there were four heavy oak planks that supported the wheel horizontally on their edges, and about a foot apart in pairs and at right angles intersected and were counter sunk into each other so as to incase the squared top of the spindle. The spindle itself revolved in iron bearings, those at the foot fastened into an oak sill and those at the top into an equally heavy oak beam. Taking this immense wheel, and the rest of the machinery and all the experiments that led up to its completion, it must have represented in time, labour and material, an amount that ran into thousands of dollars. As we mostly threshed in winter, my brother and I did not greatly admire the outfit, for it was fearfully cold work driving the oxen and horses, and we were agreed that, all told, it could hardly be called a labour-saving device; yet even from our viewpoint it was a triumph of thrift, perseverance and skill, nor could we deny that father had accomplished what he had set out to do—to plan, make, own and operate a threshing machine that would enable him to dispense with the antiquated flail.

It will hardly be necessary to say that the threshing machine just described was not portable. For a number of years father used it to thresh our own crop; but in 1863 Archdeacon Cochrane imported a single horse tread-mill from St. Paul, U.S.A., which he turned over to my uncle, William Garrioch, who, after threshing out the Archdeacon’s crop used to go round threshing for others, and it was this outfit that we were using on the day when the murder of a Sioux occurred close by, as recorded in a previous chapter. I once heard a neighbour, Robert Inkster, afterwards a missionary in Alberta, tell my father that he was the greatest planner he had ever known, and the foregoing account will show that his plans were very liable to be substantially materialized.

Before he had made the final improvements on his threshing mill, it had become evident that Hodgson’s mill could not be relied on to keep the Settlement in flour, my father therefore decided to get further service out of his big wheel by doing his own gristing as well as the threshing, and on talking the matter over with Archdeacon Cochrane, who always smiled approvingly on his inventive efforts, he was shown the advertisement and cut of a wonderful little grist-mill, the invention of an American by the name of J. B. Coleman, who claimed that it would grind and bolt three bushels of wheat in an hour. On trial it was found to be the other way—it took three hours to grind one bushel; and even at that, as the grinding part was of steel, it became so heated after grinding a few gallons, that it became necessary to stop to let it cool off; in short, as a means of turning grain into flour, it was a fake; as a crusher, however, it was fairly good.

Another lack in the Settlement that was keenly felt in cases of accident or serious illness, was that of a fully qualified physician or surgeon, for in cases of accident at any rate, there is no question, instances occurred when if proper aid had been available much subsequent suffering and inconvenience could have been avoided.

The knowledge the average citizen had of drugs, either in theory or practice, was confined to Epsom salts, castor oil, Perry Davis’ pain killer, and for external application in the case of a cut—tobacco. When aches or pains were encountered that did not yield to treatment with one or more of these remedies, then the services were sought of either Mrs. Cochrane or Mrs. Jack Spence.

The former had had some training before coming to this country, and in the case of an epidemic such as the measles or whooping cough, her services were confidently sought and cheerfully given.

Our other amateur physician was Mrs. Jack Spence. Her husband who was of English extraction was considerably older than she, and as he was in failing health for years before his death, she was obliged to add to her womanly duties others that are usually associated with the sterner sex. This is the same Mrs. Spence whose help—a Sioux lad—was ruthlessly shot down by the Ojibeway on the public highway. She was an uncommon person who added the strength and courage of a man to the gentleness and affection of a woman in a manner not derogatory to the character of either. As she came from St. Peter’s, she had previously been a parishioner of the Archdeacon, whose high estimate of her character was such that in his sermon one Sunday, when referring to some women of the parish who were wont to assemble to drink tea and gossip, he quoted Mrs. Spence to them by name as an example of a woman who minded her own business and procured meat for her household.

Besides being able to assist the sick—through a knowledge she enjoyed in common with many of her tribe of the medicinal virtue of various herbs—she also occasionally undertook simple operations such as scarifying on the temple to give relief from headache. In this operation she used a flint, and to the scratches thus made she applied her mouth, removing what little blood it was possible to extract by such a method. Her operations far from doing any harm, generally resulted in immediate and sometimes permanent relief.

It was a pleasure to have her around because she laughed so easily and so heartily, and her life had been eventful enough to make her interesting company. Among the women of the parish there still lives at least one who can recall some of Mrs. Spence’s experiences as related by herself.

It had been a lingering spring. Rabbit snaring was past, the summer fowl were slow in arriving. Her husband was then bed-ridden. The supply of food was gone. On the morning of this eventful day, she, her husband and her son—a lad named Abraham—had breakfasted on nothing but tea. On discussing the situation with her husband he told her he was an old man and was still able to say that the Lord had always sent him his daily bread. Rising from the floor she reached up for her flint-lock and powder-horn and shot-pouch, and started after the daily bread; following the swamp or Crescent Lake southward and keeping the bush of Spence’s Point to her left. She had not proceeded far when she espied a flock of geese. Approaching with great care as near as she dared, she took steady aim and shot one. It was a fine bird, and picking it up she started home with a light heart. As she entered her dwelling her husband piped out from his lonely corner, “Ah, didn’t I tell you that the Lord would provide.” She replied: “All very well for you to lie there and say that; but what would have happened if it had not been for my gun?” In telling the story she would laugh and say she was only having a little fun with Kiseyinio, “the old man.” After all, what she said was in line with the teachings of St. James: “Faith without works is dead.” She showed her faith with her works, and the results were, a dead goose, a substantial breakfast and a thankful and happy family.

The following incident will show that Mrs. Spence was a physician well able to look after herself as well as her patients. She had journeyed one summer with horse and cart to visit her friends at St. Peter’s, fully intending to return in time to have her approaching accouchement take place at home; but she was a trifle out in her calculations, and one evening as the sun was about to dip below the horizon, and home was still two miles away, she knew that her hour had come. Convenient for her purpose was a nice little pond, about one hundred steps north of the road. Hastily unharnessing the horse and making it secure for the night, she next made herself as comfortable as circumstances would permit, and after passing a not too uncomfortable night, and partaking as usual of an early breakfast, gathered up her things including an addition to the family, in the form of a little daughter, and harnessing her horse, finished her journey. The little one was christened Sarah, and the place where she first saw the light of day was named by my father, “Sarah’s Pond,” a name that it bore long after the Spences had left Portage la Prairie. Probably the entire family have passed away, for Sarah died young and Abraham was not robust. The name of Mrs. Jack Spence, however, should not be forgotten, for she was one of the great women of St. Mary’s la Prairie.

In June, 1865, Archdeacon Cochrane resigned and left Portage la Prairie for Toronto, in which city it was believed he intended quietly to spend the remainder of his days. At Fort Garry he and Mrs. Cochrane in a covered cart, joined a party of freighters, who with their Red River carts, drawn mostly by oxen, were on their way to St. Cloud for the annual supply of goods for the Settlement. Among the party was Mr. Colin Inkster, well known today and for many years as Sheriff Inkster. The following is an extract from a sketch of the life of Archdeacon Cochrane contributed by the Sheriff to “The Leaders of the Canadian Church,” a book published last summer (1920) in connection with the centenary celebration of the Anglican Church in Rupert’s Land:

“One day when we had stopped for our mid-day meal, along came a company of American cavalry. Their horses took fright at our strange looking carts, and commenced prancing and wheeling around. The riders gave vent to profanity. The Archdeacon immediately jumped up from his meal, without coat or cap and said to them: ‘You are not brave men or you would not mention your Maker’s name in this way.’ He talked to them for a few minutes. Some of them went on, while others stopped to hear what he had to say, and when leaving thanked him for his good advice. The sight of this old man, with his white hair waving in the summer breeze, stopping and reprimanding a body of horsemen in a foreign country, is one of the most courageous acts I have ever witnessed. Certainly he was a man instant both in season and out of season bearing testimony to his Master.”

Evidently after the Archdeacon had rested a while in Toronto, he felt that there was some more work in him, and that he had better defer a little longer his evening rest before the night that cometh, so after he and Mrs. Cochrane had visited their son, the Reverend Thomas, who was ill, they once more turned their faces northwards. Mr. Joe Hargrave, who was on his way to Eastern Canada describes thus his meeting with them at Fort Abercrombie:

“In the afternoon the stage-coach from St. Paul arrived. Among the passengers to my great surprise was Archdeacon and Mrs. Cochrane, then on their way back to the Red River. The Archdeacon told me his health had somewhat failed him in Canada, and he thought he could still be of some use in the Settlement, and had resolved to come back. On the ensuing morning he secured a passage on the mail gig on its way to Pembina by Georgetown. The driver on presenting himself at starting gave unequivocal symptoms of having indulged too freely in stimulating drinks. Mounting his gig he gave up its only two seats to his passengers, and standing very unsteadily before them, set the vehicle in motion. The last glance we caught of the party he was loosely swaying from side to side as the gig jolted its rapid way over the irregular track leading through the belt of woods, closely followed by the military escort charged to protect the mail against the Sioux. We subsequently learned that the Archdeacon reached Pembina after a very unpleasant journey, but without encountering any such accident as might have been apprehended from the presumptuous character of his charioteer.”

The Archdeacon evidently made part of this return journey with horse and cart, for an old gentleman who had known him well for many years told the writer that he was with a party of freighters on the road in the summer of 1865, and he describes his meeting with him and Mrs. Cochrane. He said: “One day we saw a covered cart coming along, and when it came up, who should we see but Archdeacon and Mrs. Cochrane, and I said, ‘Goodness, Archdeacon, I thought you had left the country for good.’ ‘Well,’ he said, ‘so I had; but when I heard that the grasshoppers had eaten the crops, I made up my mind that if I did not come back and assist those’ ” (mentioning a clan or family that he had often helped before) “ ‘they would starve to death.’ ”

Before the Archdeacon left for Canada, he was succeeded as Incumbent of St. Mary’s Church by his son-in-law, Reverend Henry George, who came from the Mission at Westbourne which he had established there under the Church Missionary Society in 1859, and of which Mission he continued to be priest in charge for some time after coming to Portage la Prairie.

When the Archdeacon returned from Toronto, Westbourne was still vacant, and as there was a comfortable parsonage there, it likely appeared to him as a pleasant opportunity for further usefulness, even if he was nearing his three score years and ten; so after a short rest in Portage, he moved there in the last days of September. On a delightfully warm day he was tempted to try a bath in the White Mud River, whose waters flow peacefully under the spreading branches of the numerous oak and elm that line its banks. The effect of the bath was a chill followed by fever. He was carefully moved into Portage, where he continued to steadily grow worse, and his death occurred on Sunday, October the first.

Sometimes as we grope our way through the gloom of earth a light flashes along our path long enough for us to catch a glimpse of the life beyond, and in the hush of the solemn moments that follow we pause to listen for the voice “from far away.” There was a beautiful fitness in the time and place and manner in which the members of St. Mary’s Church were engaged, when the soul of their dear friend and former pastor was taken to its rest. It was on the Lord’s Day at the hour of morning prayer. It was after receiving the memorials of Divine love in the sacrament of the Lord’s supper—there in the log church by the river, built under his leadership—where for twelve years he had led them in prayer and praise to God and taught them the duties, privileges and glories of the Christian calling. It was while they were engaged in the service of Holy Communion that the soul of the good Archdeacon passed away, and before they dispersed they learned what had happened, and perhaps in the solemn hush that followed, it was permitted him once more to bless them in the Master’s name.

The news of his death came as a great shock to many people; indeed it is safe to say that no death in the land, up to that time, created so profound an impression.

While it would have been very pleasing to the members of St. Mary’s Church to have had the body of their revered pastor interred in the cemetery of their own parish, it was felt that it would be more in consonance with the wishes of the many interested, that the place of sepulture should be in the God’s Acre of one of the most central and important of the Churches he had built, and St. Andrew’s was therefore very properly given the honour of having his body laid to rest.

The six parishioners who were chosen as pall-bearers were: John James Setter, John Corrigal, John McLean, John Garrioch, Frederick Bird and Peter Henderson. They were each provided for the occasion with a black hat and a fine black cloth capot. The following parishes were passed on the way to the cemetery: High Bluff, Poplar Point, Headingly, St. James’, St. John’s, Kildonan, and Middle Church, and at each of these places there were groups of people standing by the way with bared heads, and doubtless the burden of many a sigh was, “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.” Even the parishioners of White Horse Plains, St. Francois Xavier, who were all Roman Catholics, paid this silent tribute to a man who with all his zeal and energy in the combat with sin and ignorance, had the hope, faith and charity which made this world big enough to hold their religion and his too.

Arriving at St. Andrew’s the cortege was met at the Church by the Incumbent Archdeacon Cowley, who was the oldest missionary from England then in the country, having arrived in 1841. He was at the time of Archdeacon Cochrane’s death secretary for the Church Missionary Society in the Diocese of Rupert’s Land, and in his report for that year, makes the following reference to the funeral:

“Unfeigned was the sorrow manifest upon the countenance of very many that day, and few who were present will ever forget the solemnity of the occasion. I felt called upon to give some expression to the feeling by which so many were moved, who had known and venerated the dear deceased for so many years. The word produced a melancholy echo if I may so speak, in the tears and sobs of the assembled people; there could have been but few dry cheeks that day. The labours of our venerable friend are ended. He died in peace. He has entered into his rest. His works will follow him.”

Regarding the date of his funeral Mr. Hargrave remarks: “By a strange coincidence he was buried at St. Andrew’s cemetery on the first Friday of October, that being the day of the week on which on Friday, the seventh of October, 1825, he had landed forty years previously at Red River Settlement as assistant to Rev. Mr. Jones.”

Associated as he had been with the primitive order of things prevailing in the Red River Settlement when he arrived in 1825, it would have been no easy matter for a man of his strong will to have readily adapted himself to the order of things introduced under the new regime, of which already, during the latter years of his ministry, there were so many premonitory signs. Having during his long residence in the country, contributed so largely to the temporal as well as spiritual betterment of its people, it is hardly likely that he could have quiescently retired from the position of adviser and leader to that of a mere spectator, while hardships always incident to any great change were pressing heavily upon the weaker of those to whom he had ministered. Well therefore might his best friends have said of his death that it was a Divine act whereby he was taken from the miseries of an evil world.

The writer wrote to Rev. B. McKenzie, who was mentioned in a previous chapter, asking for a few lines giving his impressions of the Archdeacon and his work, and this is what he wrote: “I hold that of all the missionaries who ever came to Rupert’s Land, he was the greatest benefactor of the Red River Settlement, for he not only taught the settlers how to work in the Church; but he also taught them by his example in field and garden, how one could maintain his family and encourage his neighbours. . . . . . The Archdeacon’s preaching was very plain, always earnest and truly evangelical. In his manner of conducting service there was no room for foolish fuss, empty ceremony or worldly conceit in vestments and such like, all which are so very unbecoming in a place of worship, where we all appear as poor, miserable, suppliant sinners alike.”

Mr. Kemper Garrioch, another old parishioner, was asked for his views, and wrote as follows: “Yes, the life of Father Cochrane was a life of faithful service, and nothing under the dome of Heaven could have stopped him from going where duty called—no, neither the cold of winter nor the thunder-storm of summer, for he regarded such things much as Leviathan regards brass or iron. At the private home—at the meeting-house, he never failed. His only pleasure was to do his Master’s will, and his works do follow him.”

The first change in the Incumbency of St. Mary’s, occurring as it did in the dawn of a new era, called for the leadership of one, who, while familiar with the methods of the past, would be able and willing to fall in with the very different manner of carrying on church work which had obviously become necessary owing to the great changes in the country. The Rev. Henry George was well qualified to be pastor at this transitional period. He was well read, a true Christian and a thorough gentleman—a man of whose honesty and purity of living there was never a breath of suspicion. There were those who thought he was too exclusive both as a churchman and an Englishman. Respecting the former charge it can be said that his consistency of life with scriptural teaching and with his conception of the church, was of that kind that no fair-minded outsider could fail to respect. As to the other point, probably his study of English history, a subject in which he was very proficient, had led to the honest conclusion that “an Englishman can’t be beat.”

Henry George was born in London, England, and was the son of a surgeon in the British army who had seen active service at Waterloo and elsewhere. His intention was that his son would qualify for a like position in the army, and for some time his studies in King’s College were directed with a view to the carrying out of that intention, but the plan was abandoned when his son expressed a desire to become a missionary to the natives of Rupert’s Land. He then took a course in theology, and was ordained deacon before leaving England. He arrived in Red River Settlement in 1856, and was in the same year admitted to priest’s orders by Bishop Anderson. He married Miss Mary Anne Cochrane, second daughter of Archdeacon and Mrs. Cochrane. His first charge was at Cumberland House, at that time called Nipowiwin. There he remained for three years. In 1860 he moved to White Mud River, Wapatunuski Seepee, where he established a Mission which he named Westbourne; then on the resignation of Archdeacon Cochrane, he took charge of St. Mary’s in 1865. At the close of a previous chapter, the testimony of an old parishioner was given, which was to the effect that Archdeacon Cochrane’s one pleasure was to do his Master’s will. The case was correctly stated. The Archdeacon’s disposition was to leave to others the development of the social element in Church work. It had no pleasure for him; therefore, when Rev. Henry George took charge there was this field awaiting him, in which he had his opportunity to turn “First Furrows”; and his age and temperament well fitted him to undertake such work, while his high conception of the Master’s work and of the “one thing needful,” saved him from the danger of allowing such things to usurp the place in the heart and affections of himself and his people, which by sovereign right belongs to the Lord and his Christ. To employ the social amenities of life in connection with Church work so as to exert only a wholesome spiritual influence on its life and growth, is something that calls for a large endowment of the wisdom that cometh down from above. In attending to these auxiliaries to a Christian life, Mr. George was splendidly aided by Mrs. George, who was of a bright and cheerful disposition, had a good knowledge of music and was besides a good cook, and was like her husband “given to hospitality,” of which facts many strangers received incontrovertible proofs. Speaking for myself, I retain fond recollections of more than one pleasant evening spent in the old log parsonage, especially of two rooms therein—the dining room and the study, associated with the former “the cup that cheers but not inebriates,” and a repast for which any kind of a Christian may well have been “truly thankful,” and associated with the latter, the stirring up by the Vicar of the fire in the study chimney until the blaze shot upward, making the golden title of many a good book to flash into view; and then, facing the cheerful fire the conversation would work round to where his desire to help or my wish to learn would lead, when from his well-stored mind he brought out many a treasure of wisdom, while I, trying to be a good listener, egged him on with modest observation, or timely enquiry.

When Bishop Machray arrived in Rupert’s Land in 1865, Archdeacon Cochrane had only a few days been laid to rest, and as he came to see for himself the evidences of the zeal and energy of that servant of God, extending all the way between St. Peter’s, the northern limit of the Red River Settlement and Portage la Prairie, where he made his last stand in the cause of Christ, he could not fail to have been greatly impressed; and as he rested in the parsonage where the Archdeacon had finished his task, and Mr. George was taking up his, he was in a fitting place to have a vision of his own great undertaking—a place where he might well find incentive and inspiration for the work ahead of him, such as, parochial re-organization, Diocesan re-organization and resuscitation of St. John’s Collegiate School under the name of St. John’s College, and all with the view of placing the Church of England in the country on a good working basis, so that men and means might be forthcoming for the evangelizing of the Indian tribes and to enable her to discharge her share of responsibility to the incoming population. It would have been a good thing for the new settlers if they had felt their responsibility to themselves and their children as keenly as Bishop Machray felt it, for then they would have been guided by his wise counsel, and in the Canadian public schools which superseded the parish schools of the Church, religious exercises would have been retained as something not to be dispensed with. It has been often stated, and not to the knowledge of the writer ever been denied, that he had much to do in the moulding of the educational institutions of this province, and that he has left the impress of a master-hand upon them; but to my mind however important what he may have accomplished in promoting higher education, his achievements in the interest of his country would have been a far greater boon had the common people heard him gladly, and permitted what he so often publicly recommended—religious exercises in their common schools.

It is evident that the bright and congenial atmosphere of Mr. and Mrs. George’s home in the log parsonage by the river left a pleasant and lasting impression in the mind of the Archbishop, for on different occasions after Mr. George’s death he made reference in St. Mary’s Church to pleasant hours spent with Mr. George before the open fireplace in his study.

Like the other early Missionaries to this country Mr. George was strictly evangelical. He was also strict in having things done decently and in order, both in the matter of church furnishings and the manner of conducting service. Any changes that he made in these respects were considered by the members of his congregation as sensible and in good taste, and introduced with the single object of making the services more bright and cheerful.

The first changes in the fabric of the log church were the removal of the high pulpits that stood in the extreme corners, and the dividing of that end of the church into three parts, by means of board partitions seven feet high, so as to enclose ten feet square at each corner of the building, and leave a space of twelve feet between as a chancel, through which was the entrance to each of the sections aforenamed. In the centre of the section to the left was the pulpit, and at the top of the right section appeared the body and pipes of a small barrel organ. A lectern and prayer desk were placed outside the chancel rail, and a font stood at the right of the entrance to the church. The partitions put up to form pulpit and organ-loft, were of basswood finished off with an ornamental border, and the whole was stained with yellow ochre and oil, and presented a neat and pleasing appearance. When he first took charge Mr. George used to preach in a black gown, but he soon dispensed with that, and the only other change he ever introduced in vestments was the wearing of a black stole. If he ever wore a stock—recollection fails in this particular—it was laid aside with the gown.

In the more essential matter—the rendering of the service, there were equally striking changes, and these also commended themselves to the generality of the congregation, especially to the young members and to all who loved music, and, on the whole, there was no serious objection to any of the changes made.

Mr. George was not an eloquent preacher; but as a good set-off, he was logical and practical. He usually spoke from notes at the morning service, and read his sermon in the evening. Before his sermon he used a collect, and at its close the ascription. He was a great believer in religion as shown in a genial and upright life, and did not believe that emotionalism in worship contributed much to that end.

Before his time the musical part of the service had been confined to the singing of the hymns, and no musical instrument so far as known, had ever found its way into the church; but now the canticles were chanted, and in both hymns and chants the barrel organ played an important part. Mr. George usually took twenty minutes in the delivery of his sermon, and as the singing and reading was a little faster than in the Archdeacon’s time the services were about half an hour shorter.

The little organ, on the whole, admirably answered the purpose for which it was installed, and if on rare occasions the rhythm of a stanza was a little off, doubtless it could have been traced to the faulty movement of the elbow of Joe Corrigal, the boy who turned the crank. On one occasion the brave little organ was the innocent cause of considerable diversion. Its range of music was confined to so many barrels with a few tunes on each; and a change of barrel two or three times in the course of a service was about the usual thing. Joe was quite competent to attend to this matter, but boy-like he became over-confident, and as time went on, did not sufficiently “magnify his office,” and frequently from the corner of the little curtain which was intended to conceal him and his movements, his physiognomy could be detected as he grinned his recognition at some favourite in the audience, a practice that was bound to land a person in trouble sooner or later, organic or otherwise. At any rate, on the occasion referred to Joe forgot to change the barrel, or he put in the wrong one, with the sensational result, that when Mr. George led off with the trebles in the tune intended the organist was turning out another that was not intended, until some awful discords brought both singing and playing to a halt, when Mr. George hurriedly entered the organ-loft, and after the necessary adjustments, the singing was started again and went forward none the worse for the mishap.

When Mr. George took charge, there was a number of Scotch Presbyterian families who had come from Ontario and made themselves homes in Portage la Prairie. Having no minister of their own some of them attended the Church of England services occasionally. There was just one who did so regularly—Mrs. McLean, mother of John McLean, who though about seventy-five years of age, attended as regularly as if she was a Church member, and was also a participant in the Holy Communion—a fine example of the faith that triumphs over the prejudices that too many Christians of one denomination are liable to have against the practices of another. Mrs. McLean, however, could never quite get over our little organ, and sometimes showed her disapproval by an emphatic shake of the head.

Of the settlers from Ontario it can truly be said that, with a few exceptions, they adapted themselves in a commendable manner to the requirements of the country, and that the effect of their coming was not to overturn or nullify the good that had been accomplished by Archdeacon Cochrane and his parishioners.

In one important respect—their treatment of the Indians—they acted as kindly and wisely as the original settlers themselves, in fact, like Britishers to the manner born; but as the population increased and became more mixed—especially mixed with whiskey—then some of the Indians were bad, and the same with the old timers and the Ontarians and the Americans, and the badness in the community was more than it could handle, and deeds of violence and murder began to be perpetrated, and all thoughtful and peace-loving citizens realized that the time had come when we needed in the country not only British laws, but the British power to enforce them as well.

It is noteworthy that the Archdeacon had not been laid to rest more than a few months, when right within the Settlement of Portage la Prairie there were cases of serious trouble between the Whites and Indians such as had never occurred since its inception in 1853. It is also noteworthy that the two hundred gallons of whiskey which were at the bottom of the serious trouble was brought in over the same route, and arrived in Portage the same autumn that the Archdeacon returned from his last visit to Toronto. The whiskey formed part of a trading outfit brought in on wagons by three Americans, Bob O’Lone, Jim Clewet and Bill Sammon, who traded in Portage la Prairie during the winter 1865-66. They were usually spoken of by the settlers as the “Yankee Boys.” The writer remembers seeing them at Church at least once. They did not seem any worse that Sunday than any other mortals, and doubtless had they only been satisfied to leave their hogshead of whiskey behind, when they left Portage they might have left behind them that “good name which is more to be desired than great riches.” Sammon, who was an ex-sergeant of the U.S. army seemed to be a very nice young man. Perhaps he was taken because he was the best prepared to die. They located in the western part of the Settlement a little north of where the Portage Collegiate now stands.

All appeared to be going well enough with them until May 28th, 1866, when there occurred a row between them and the Saulteaux. The Indians of course were blamed for starting the trouble, especially Kwingwahaka, the Wolverine, who was a notorious rascal. It appears the Americans had secreted their whiskey in an out-building only a few yards distant from the dwelling house and store, and that when things began to look threatening Jim Clewet moved in there to guard it. An Indian who professed to be anxious to assist him in protecting the stuff was also allowed to enter; but shortly afterwards attacked him with a knife and stabbed him in the side. Fortunately the knife struck a rib and being deflected made only a surface wound. In the excitement that followed Bill Sammon and Kwingwahaka came into conflict, one on each side of the out-house door, and soon as the door was slightly ajar, the latter thrust the barrel of his gun into the opening, and when Sammon caught hold of it, he pulled the trigger, sending a ball into his chest that came out at his side and lodged in his arm. Kwingwahaka then fled. The accounts of the affair are most conflicting, partly no doubt because the spectators believed with the poet that “distance lends enchantment to the scene.” Bob himself after committing his injured companions and the goods to the keeping of John McLean and other settlers, selected a point in the Settlement remote as possible from the scene of the tragedy, and there with an old timer who still lives in Portage, he secreted himself during the following night. This same old timer’s version of the affair does not agree with that of the historian Hill, whose informant represents the settlers as refusing to protect the American establishment unless the whiskey was first removed. Mr. —— thinks that some of them went only too readily “because they knew that for once there would be lots of the stuff.” Doubtless the contradictory statements can be harmonized by applying them severally according to the well known tastes of the settlers for or against “the stuff.”

Before Bob O’Lone succeeded in disentangling himself from the Indians, he had to make lively use of a repeating rifle. Witnesses seem pretty well agreed as to his style of doing so, which was supposed to be Irish or American or both. He kept his legs wide apart, and his whole body in perpetual motion by leaping from side to side, while occasionally he raised his rifle to his shoulder and let fly in the direction of the enemy. The Indians are poor shots on the wing, being too saving of ammunition to get the necessary practice, and whether it was due to that or Bob’s good luck, they failed to wing their bird on this occasion, and as they gradually retired from the conflict he turned and hastened away. In this row there was a death on each side. During a lull in the fighting an Indian approached the trader’s quarters. It is said that he was unarmed and was the bearer of a message of peace. As he neared the house the crack of a rifle was heard, and he was seen to stagger and hurriedly retrace his steps, and as he was in the act of climbing a fence he fell over dead.

The settlers regarded this affair as placing them in a critical situation, the more so, as John McLean who acted Good Samaritan to the Americans in their sad plight, was sadly lacking in Hudson’s Bay diplomacy, and knew little of Indian ways, and nothing of their language, and who being a Canadian settler, was liable to prejudice the Indians against all new settlers, and so involve the entire Settlement in a quarrel with the Indians.

As may be supposed the Americans were anxious enough to get out of the way, and they received from the settlers all proper assistance to do so. It is, however, to be regretted that poor Sammon could not have been given a better fighting chance for his life. He dreaded the journey to Fort Garry by waggon; and no one was much surprised to learn that he died soon after arriving there.

When Bob O’Lone left Portage la Prairie he located in what is now the centre of Winnipeg, where he was for years the proprietor of the notorious Red Saloon. One day in 1869 as I happened to be passing the place, I saw Bob coming out the door in grips with a French Canadian, and there and then was provided a free show—a contest with fists—in which the former would have been badly worsted had his partner or bar-keeper not come to his relief. The exhibition was witnessed by an interested crowd consisting chiefly of French Half-breeds. The writer does not remember any mention of the affair in the next day’s paper, in fact we were getting so used to such things in Winnipeg in the days immediately before the transfer that they were hardly considered worth mentioning, and some of the people who did make any comment were likely to remark that Winnipeg was destined to become a great city—it was so lively.

Another tragedy that happened at Portage a little later was as much as the other due to the baneful influence of whiskey. Among the old settlers was one Charles Demarais, whose oldest son Francis was a depraved and sensual man, especially when under the influence of intoxicating drink. When sober he was not quite as bad as some of the accounts of this his last fatal row would make him out to be. My father employed him on different occasions and he always conducted himself satisfactorily. He was extra good for heavy work, being nearly as strong as an ox. He was also ingenious. One day he turned up without a pipe, but having some tobacco he contrived to have his usual smokes. He went to Garrioch’s Creek and scooped out a handful of wet mud which he shaped into the form of a pipe, leaving a stick thrust into the side to form a hole for the stem. This mud pipe he left in the sun till stiff, then thrusting a hollow reed into the hole he had left for the stem, he filled his pipe and proceeded to enjoy his smoke.

Picture now a very different scene, in which Francis Demarais is the chief but least successful actor. John McLean, Clementina his oldest daughter and Alec his oldest son are planting potatoes near their dwelling-house. A little north-west of the field are the tents of two French Half-breed traders. From one of the tents comes a young woman who runs hastily towards the potato planters pursued by Demarais, and placing herself behind Clementina she cries, “Save me from that man.” McLean undertakes to do so; but most likely in the passionate and ill-advised manner in which he was wont to resist any fancied encroachment upon his rights, especially if the offender were an Indian. The result surprised no one. There was a prolonged struggle in which hands, clubs and finally guns were used, the wind up of which was that Demarais received a wound from the gun in the hands of Alec McLean. Blood poisoning set in, and he died shortly after. This was felt to be a matter too serious to be passed over without notice, and the authorities at Fort Garry took the trouble to investigate, with the result that Alec was summoned to stand his trial for manslaughter at the quarterly court which sat at Fort Garry on October the 24th.

He was defended by Enos Stutsman an American lawyer who resided at Pembina as Collector of Customs for the American Government. McLean was acquitted. There is no doubt that both judge and jury felt the expediency of an acquittal. It was stated pretty freely after the trial was over that if a verdict of guilty had been returned there would have followed a fray that might have turned out more seriously than the one in which Demarais had come to his death. Judge Black was a religious and humane man, and he would probably be a good deal influenced by the statement made in court by a credible witness, that Demarais had expressed a wish that no action might be taken against McLean, because he had brought upon himself the treatment he had received.

Alec McLean not many years afterwards came to a sad end. He was backing the tractor of his threshing outfit when forgetting the position of the separator which was behind, these two parts of the outfit collided with great force pinning him between, and running an iron rod through his neck in such a manner that life was extinct before he could be extricated.

About the year 1874, the notorious Bungee, Kwingwahaka was heard from again, having in a moment of weakness, when partially intoxicated, boasted of the number of settlers’ horses he had killed, a rather unfortunate speech for a man who about eight years before had taken a leading part and perhaps been the actual slayer of Bill Sammon, the American, for there was once more an American element in the community, which made itself felt even in the deliberations of that august body—the Council of Portage la Prairie; and as is well known, according to the usages of American frontier life, a horse thief stood as good a chance to be hanged as a murderer. At any rate, the machinery of justice in Portage was put in motion, and constables were sent after and arrested Kwingwahaka at Cram Creek, who brought him to stand trial at the quarterly court convened in the house of William Hodgson. He was found guilty, and the majority of the Councillors, alias Associated Judges, voted for hanging him at once from the branch of a spreading oak tree conveniently near, and this would have been done only that my father and a few others strongly objected, declaring that such a course would be neither lawful nor expedient.

The department of justice found themselves in a very awkward position. They had a man ripe for hanging whom they dared not hang, they lacked the means of imprisoning him, and it would have been of little use to have fined him, for apart from his greasy and inhabited person there was little upon which they could lay their hands unless it were the flint-lock with which he had committed the indictable offences. In their perplexity they entered into negotiations with the judicial authorities of the Council of Assiniboia, and the accused was sent to Fort Garry to be confined in the gaol there to await trial at the next sitting of the quarterly court. He did not wait that long, for somehow the prison door was left unlocked, and the so-called prisoner probably reached his home sooner than the two Portage constables reached theirs. Some months later a rather formidable party of mounted police was sent out to recapture him, but he was not to be found; and, presumably, it was thought that the majesty of the law had been sufficiently vindicated, or it may have been thought that after his narrow escape from being hanged on a tree he would be scared into doing that which was lawful and right for the rest of his days.

Evidently the Indians were of the impression that if the taking of human life was restricted to themselves, it was their affair, and the Whites had no just cause to interfere; and unfortunately the Whites in Portage for about twenty-three years after the Settlement was begun were too weak numerically to do very much towards correcting that impression; and so while a good deal was done in the case of Queen versus Alec McLean to impress upon the public the sanctity of human life, nothing was done to the same end when about the same time a Saulteaux and a Sioux, quarreling over a horse in the centre of the then village of Portage la Prairie, the latter shot the former dead and retained the animal in dispute. It would, of course, have been an entirely different case if the said Sioux had fired the said ball into a White man’s cow or horse. It being, however, an Indian who was hit, the Whites had to leave the question of justice in abeyance, merely performing the charitable and sanitary act of burying the corpse of the fallen Indian. John McLean had suffered more than anyone else through having cattle shot by the Indians, but he was a forgiving individual, and he cheerfully assisted in performing this last kind act for an unfortunate neighbour.

The last instance in Portage la Prairie of the Indians handing out the extreme penalty to one of their race according to their methods, occurred in 1876. This act of justice or homicide was done by the Sioux. It was claimed by them that the man Ironside, whom they slew was a bad man, and that he had slain several of his own race, and had committed many of the deeds for which the Sioux had been obliged to flee from their country. He had come down from a reserve in the West to trade his furs in Portage, and visit at the Sioux camp at the same time. He knew that his life was in danger, but was fool-hardy enough to stay on after being warned, saying that he knew how to take care of himself. Unfortunately his executioners did not give him much chance to do so, for they also had studied the art of how to take care of themselves, and showed that they were masters of the art in disposing of him without undue risk to their own precious persons. He was shot down by two or three Sioux concealed below the bank as he was quietly following the lake in the west end of the town.

As there had been by this time a considerable accession to the white population, it was felt that the settlers in Portage la Prairie could now safely undertake to teach the Indians that homicide of any sort would no longer be tolerated in the land, and that in getting rid of “bad men” whether Whites or Reds, they would have to regard the courts of law established in the land as providing the proper means of doing so; and in order that the lesson might be solemnly impressed upon their minds, Sheriff J. J. Setter with a party of constables was sent to arrest the men responsible for the deed just related. At some risk to themselves they succeeded in capturing or persuading the men implicated to march up to the court-house where they were arraigned before justices of the peace, Messrs. Ogletree, Hay and McDonald.

Before leaving camp the Indians had doubtless arranged with their friends what was to be the line of action at the court-house if the proceedings there did not sufficiently coincide with their notions of justice, and when it was found that the evidence adduced would be looked at from the White man’s usual angle of vision and likely result in the disposing of the “bad man,” a shout was heard—doubtless, a pre-arranged signal for simultaneous commotion—and there followed a remarkable contempt of court—there was a rush and a scramble, mingled with all the confusion of noises that proceed so easily and awfully from Indian throats, and although each of the accused Indians had been committed to the care of a constable who was charged to stay with his man at all hazards, it was not more than a minute after the stampede commenced, when the Indians, squaws and all, were clear of the court-house and going all they were good for in the direction of the slough. As might be supposed, each of the constables felt it due to himself to explain how it was that he had failed to hold his man. John McLean said his Indian could not have been held on account of the grease that was on him. Another said he held his man till he found all the others had escaped, whereupon he decided to let him have the same chance as his mates. For some reason or other the authorities did not make any great effort to recapture the escaped Indians; and perhaps greater severity would not have answered any better purpose. The Indians who had taken part in the slaying of Ironside made themselves scarce for a considerable time, and as for “the Doctor” it was more than a year before he again became visible in Portage la Prairie.

After Mr. George had in 1865 completed the improvements in the interior of the church, as already described, he proceeded early in the following year to make equally important changes in the school. The position of the schoolhouse, one-fourth of a mile from the church and parsonage, did not fit in very well with his plans for Sunday school work and social gatherings, so the first building which had been in use since 1855 was pulled down, and removed to a new site about forty yards east of the church, and there upon new foundations the old material that was still good, with some new added, was reconstructed into a building not quite as large as the former but neater in appearance, and more comfortable and better adapted for school purposes. It was whitewashed with lime instead of mud, and shingled instead of thatched, and heated by a stove instead of a chimney, and was also much in advance of the other in the matter of equipment such as desks, maps, writing material and books. During the intervening period of five years between its erection and the ending up of church parish schools at the time of the transfer in 1870, there were successively the teachers J. J. Setter, afterward Sheriff, George Hill, an easy going Englishman and a Mr. Malon.

The opening of the new or improved schoolhouse took place on the 11th July, 1866, and was becomingly honoured as a stride forward in the history of the parish. First there was divine service in the church at 10 a.m., after which the school children and the rest of the congregation adjourned to the schoolhouse, the capacity of which was not quite equal to the occasion, as there were a good many present who were only provisionally interested in education.

As became his office, the occasion and the object of the building Mr. George opened the proceedings with prayer. The children then sung a special hymn, of which, as vestry clerk I had written out a number of copies which I proudly handed around to such as could not only read but sing. Then Mr. George gave the children an address which was short and otherwise suitable, after which the proceedings became of a festive and entertaining character.

First there were three merry songs by the children, which were much appreciated, causing some of the old folks to forget their age and laugh heartily, after which the children went through a marching exercise, which they executed to the credit of themselves and the bewilderment of the audience. Passing in and out among the forms, they placed themselves in various formations and did an amount of marching, all the more bewildering because of the circumscribed space at their disposal, and finally finished off in the exact place and order in which they had started.

For the next hour the company strolled or lolled about the grounds, while the refreshment committee set the tables for luncheon. All the best known luxuries of that period were necessities on the occasion and were represented on the table, and—to use one of Mr. George’s phrases—they were ad libitum. There was ham, roast beef, part of a stuffed little pig, vegetables, puddings, pies, and cakes of every imaginable kind, including Red River bannock, and in the opinion of all present it was away ahead of any spread given in Portage la Prairie up to that date. Next the writer there squeezed in between the table and the wall the fat man of the parish, who had no sooner seated himself than he said, looking at a thin man opposite, “boy, let us change seats,” and as they proceeded to do so he remarked, “with all these good things in sight, it’s as well to leave a little room for expansion.”

After the company had done full justice to the bounteous repast, and the refreshment committee had seen to the fragments and the dishes, the sports of the afternoon were commenced. These old games do not seem to have changed in the last half century as much as many other things. There was running, jumping, vaulting, holding the greasy pig, sack race, smokers’ race, tug-o’-war, etc. There were two lame men present who beat the crowd on the standing-one-leg jump, the vestry clerk was one of them, but he failed to toe the scratch with Mr. Frederick Bird, the president of the Republic of Portage la Prairie, who turned out to be a better one-leg hopper by about two inches.

Encouraged by the example of Mr. George and his lieutenants everyone present seemed bent on doing his or her part to render the day one of innocent enjoyment. Mr. George was always seen at his best with children, for he seemed in his element when taking part in their games, and the heartiness with which he did so contributed much to their enjoyment. The day was ideal. Occasionally the sun was veiled by a feathery cloud as it was wafted along before a gentle breeze; and not till the sun was nearing the western horizon, and throwing quickly lengthening shadows towards the nearby Assiniboine, and the flowers and grass of the playground carpet were scenting the evening air—not till then did the day’s sports draw to a close, as the people gathered before the new schoolhouse and united in singing “God Save the Queen” and the Doxology, after which they wended their way homeward to milk their cows and retire to rest in their buffalo robes or feather-beds, possibly to dream the dreams and see the visions which we of this twentieth century have realized.

A description of the school opening was written by Mr. George, and appeared in the “Nor’-Wester.” Of course, it made pleasant reading, especially to the parishioners and friends of St. Mary’s, while no doubt it convinced many other readers of the aforenamed thrifty little sheet, that Portage la Prairie was well abreast of the times, and not suffering materially from being outside the favoured district of Assiniboia.

The changes introduced by Rev. Henry George during the first year of his pastorate, in church and Sunday school work and in social matters, may be regarded as a fair example of similar progress going on in other parishes in the Settlement; and while it chanced that these changes were coincident with the beginning of Bishop Machray’s episcopacy, they are not to be regarded as wholly among its immediate consequences, but rather as a forward movement that had commenced and which rendered easy of acceptance what he did introduce—parochial and diocesan organization with all the duties and privileges thereunto appertaining.

The Bishop held his first conference in St. John’s parish schoolhouse May 13th, 1866. There were ten clergymen present and eighteen laymen. The number of laymen present affords presumptive evidence that already at that date all or most of the parishes in the Red River Settlement—acting probably in accordance with his Lordship’s instructions—had elected church wardens and vestrymen.

In the case of St. Mary’s the first election of wardens and vestrymen took place in the parsonage on Monday, April 9th, 1866. Neither my memory nor private journal enables me to say who were the wardens or the lay delegates, but whoever they were, their names are given in the following list of the gentlemen who composed the Vestry, viz.: J. J. Setter, F. Bird, John Garrioch, Wm. Garrioch, Peter Garrioch, Thomas Anderson, Senr., John Corrigal, Peter Henderson and (as vestry clerk) A. C. Garrioch. After the election and general discussion on parochial matters, Mr. George invited the newly elected vestrymen to tea on the following evening, and also gave notice that immediately afterwards there would be held in his study the first meeting of the first Vestry of St. Mary’s la Prairie.

The first matter discussed by the Vestry was the removal of the schoolhouse. As already shown this undertaking was brought to a successful finish by the 11th July. Previous to this Vestry meeting, the congregation had listened for a month of Sundays to silver and copper coins dropping into a little wooden box attached to a rod. In other words, the offertory collection had been introduced into church in the previous year, and the first Vestry was treated to the sound of the three little words—“cash on hand”—how much cash was on hand cannot be stated as the records have unfortunately been lost; but my private journal again helps out a little, and shows that the first St. Mary’s Vestry was not of the talent-burying sort, and they disbursed the cash on hand as follows: A resolution was passed, making a small grant in aid of a widow and her children; a second resolution authorized the purchase of slabs for a sidewalk to be laid between the churchyard gate and that of the parsonage; and a third resolution was to the effect that £5 was to be sent to the Bishop as the parish’s first contribution to the missionary funds of the Diocese.

From the very first the Bishop’s great desire was to induce the church people to show a lively and practical interest in missionary work, and he took every means of encouraging them to emulate the zeal of the church in the Motherland, which had so generously contributed to bring about the Christian civilization enjoyed in this land. By the time he had held the second annual conference, May 29th, 1867 (from that date such a conference was called a meeting of the Synod) the laity began to realize as never before that the Lord had need of them, and at Synod and at their Vestry meetings showed their appreciation of the opportunity given them to co-operate in advancing His cause. It was well that it should be so, for even then they were being reminded that some day, not very far in the future, they must be prepared, financially speaking, to stand on their own feet. In the case of Portage la Prairie, a beginning in this direction had to be made when the Church Missionary Society reduced its annual grant to the school teacher’s salary from £40 to £32, a mere trifle it may seem, yet happening as it did in a grasshopper year such as 1868, it was keenly felt, for the well-to-do in the place who had an interest in education were very few indeed, and there was no Ladies’ Aid or such like organizations to come to the rescue. In his annual report for that year, to the Church Missionary Society, Mr. George wrote as follows: “Our church collections this year will be very small. I shall with difficulty raise enough to pay the church-keeper, and I fear that the £8, the fifth of our schoolmaster’s salary, will not be realized. It will be sad to close our school for want of funds, but I hope this will not happen.” It did not happen, for at a Vestry meeting held November 22nd, 1868, a resolution was passed to adopt a system in vogue in some other parishes, according to which parents were to pay for the children they sent to school at the rate of twelve shillings per capita. By way of adapting the rule to the spirit and substance of the parishioners it was agreed, with the consent of the parties affected, that the rate was to be doubled in the cases of Mr. John Garrioch and Mr. David Cusitar, and those two gentlemen between them furnished a sufficient number of pupils to fully entitle them to the honour of paying unaided the forty dollars required.

It was in this year also that Mr. George organized a society for the social and intellectual improvement of the young people of Portage la Prairie. Previous to this it was not easy for all to find some pleasant, harmless or profitable way of spending their long winter evenings. The few who were fond of reading and could get suitable books were all right, but the others went from house to house discussing the news, such as it was—probably the last dance and the plans for the next. In passing, the writer would say of those old time dances, that when there was no drink, and the young folks were under the watchful eye of their older friends—as was usually the case—they were far from degrading; for they provided an innocent and pleasurable pastime in which the young of Portage la Prairie could shine in the light of the open fire and tallow candle of those pioneer days, as they “tipped it off on the light fantastic toe.” Of course, they became amazingly dexterous in the use of their feet, but the progress at their upper end was not quite in keeping, and Mr. George set about supplying what a good many in the community regarded as a “long-felt want.” A parishioners’ meeting was called, and the formation of a social organization discussed. All were in favour, and a committee was elected to draft rules of order and attend to other details of operation. The members of the committee were: Rev. Henry George, Messrs. Fred Burr, Fred Bird, John Corrigal, George Garrioch and A. C. Garrioch. Fred Burr, second on the list, was an American who had shortly before arrived from the west with his family and located in Portage as a small fur trader. He was a well educated man and always willing to assist in anything which tended to intellectual improvement. The object of the society with the management of which this committee was entrusted was expressed in its title—“The Young People’s Mutual Improvement Society.”

The committee first of all proceeded to draw up an elaborate set of rules, to which all taking part in the work of the Society would be expected to conform. These were carefully written out and laid on the shelf, to all intents and purposes to be forthwith forgotten. If ever one was remembered it was after it had been broken. The rule most liable to be called to mind in this belated fashion was one that forbade reference to holy scripture for arguments in debate. Just one other of the rules is fastened in the writer’s memory in a similar manner. T. H., an Englishman who farmed on the road to High Bluff, was delivering a lecture on physiology and tickled the fancy of some of the audience with the remark that the different parts of the human body were evidently placed in position with due regard to use and convenience, and asked his audience if they did not think it would have been very awkward supposing the head instead of being where it is, had been placed at the alternative end of the vertebrae. Such a remark might never have escaped Mr. H.’s lips had he known of and remembered in time that on the shelf was a rule reading in the fine diction of Mr. Burr: “No language obscene, indecorous or profane will be permitted.”

The Society’s first effort in the way of mutual improvement was made in the rendering of the following programme at the house of William Hodgson, Tuesday, November 24, 1868.

1. Auld Lang Syne, sung by audience. Accompaniment on the violin by A. C. Garrioch.

2. Reading, Dunkey Sir Dunkey, William Garrioch.

3. Song.

4. Reading, The Keader Fair, J. J. Setter.

5. Song.

6. Recitation, a Selection from Shakespeare, Fred Burr.

7. Song.

8. Reading, Hudson’s Bay Fur Hunters, A. C. Garrioch.

9. Song.

10. Reading, John Gilpin, George Garrioch.

11. Song.

12. National Anthem, violin accompaniment by A. C. Garrioch.

This Improvement Society held its meetings every winter, and provided valuable assistance to those desirous of adding to their knowledge of music, their skill in debate or their stock of general knowledge. As the writer moved to St. John’s in the spring of 1869, he can speak from actual knowledge only of the first winter of the Society’s history, and taking that as a criterion would say, that it was of great service to the community, because it not only provided wholesome entertainment, but also gave incentive to the acquirement of useful knowledge. During the winter of 1868-69, we had four lectures, one from Mr. George, one from F. Burr on Utah and the Mormons, one from the Presbyterian minister, Mr. Fletcher, on education, and the one from Mr. T. H. Huddlestone already referred to.

From the fact that this Society, which was started two years after the schoolhouse had been reconstructed beside the church, did not hold any of its meetings there, but in the house of William Hodgson at the spot where Archdeacon Cochrane first held service on his arrival in Portage, it will be seen that already the trend of settlement westward had the effect of making church buildings at the river uncentral. The schoolhouse was therefore moved once more, this time passing by its former site and going three-fourths of a mile further westward, to a point on the banks of the slough in Parish Lot 65, where, after having been used as a school, a church, a court house and a concert hall, it was finally with necessary changes converted into a dwelling house, in which capacity it is still used (1922), being apparently still in a good state of preservation.

In Hill’s history there is a good deal about Mr. Chas. Curtis. The writer knew him well as a blacksmith and a very worthy citizen. Several of his poetic effusions are given by Mr. Hill, two of which are here subjoined in full, not so much to show that he was a poet as because of the historic value of their contents.

ENTERTAINMENTS

My thoughts I collect

For a brief retrospect,

And sing you a tale of our doings in rhyme,

The winter is past

And spring come at last

And with innocent fun we’ve beguiled our time.

Mr. George in the fall

Proposed to us all

To fill up the winter with reading and song.

Young and old with a jest

We have all done our best

The winter is o’er and we’ve not found it long.

Mr. George from his store

Read us proud Elinore,

And many a piece fraught with wisdom and truth

Till ’twas plain to us all

How pride gets a fall

Wise lesson for old as well as for youth.

There’s Mister McLean,

I’m sure its quite plain,

He did all that he could that was jolly and funny,

In right good broad Scotch

Filled up many a notch

With tales of instruction and stories so funny.

And then Mister Field

His Dickens would wield;

And we never got tired was it ever so long

About Pickwick and Weller

And Bob Sawyer poor fellow

And betwixt full many a comic song.

Then Mister John Garrioch

Though never in Carrick

Has lived on Red River for ever so long

With glasses on nose

Read poetry and prose

Ever read his daughter with sweetest of song.

Cold water lets bring

Straight from the spring,

Health to Mister Halcrow who never did fail;

His broad chest expanding,

Gave forth songs of good standing

“Cold Spring Water,” and the “Rose of Sweet Allendale.”

Then there’s Mister Faucett

’Tis no use to gloss it

Says how often he suffers a terrible pain;

He just has got married,

And sadly he’s harried,

And wishes to goodness he was single again.

The sixteen years of Mr. George’s pastorate extended over a troublous period, the first five being previous to the Transfer, and the remaining eleven subsequent to it—a period when there was need for strenuous effort lest much that was good in the old might be needlessly rung out, and what was bad in the new unwittingly rung in. It was in his pastorate that ministers of two other denominations commenced work in Portage la Prairie, the Presbyterians stationing a minister here when they had about six families, and the Methodists a little later, when they had one man. As may be supposed until other immigrants arrived who were members of the Methodist Church, the situation was unpleasant for Mr. George. In his pastorate too occurred the disturbances related in the previous chapter, and also the Metis uprising in connection with the transfer, and the Fenian raid immediately following it.

It was during this period also that Portage la Prairie lost for a little while its long and historically important name, in connection with a political agitation that was much more ridiculous than serious. In 1867 an Englishman by the name of Thomas Spence, came to reside in the Portage, and when Mr. George was starting his improvement society this gentleman was attempting to improve the Government of Portage la Prairie. He had arrived in the village near Fort Garry the year before and had lost no time in getting into the limelight there, by his strong advocacy of confederation and the peculiar methods by which he sought to bring it about. By means best known to himself and not hard to conceive he managed to get up a correspondence purporting to originate from the spontaneous desire of the Indian chiefs of the Red River Settlement to have the Prince of Wales visit their country and enjoy therein the pleasures of the chase. The invitation to this end that was sent to his Royal Highness was written on birch bark, and worded and painted in a manner supposed to be genuinely Indian, although some competent judges who had the chance to examine the document before it was forwarded were heard to express the opinion that it looked too English to be Indian. In due course through the usual official channels the chiefs were informed that the Prince had received their letter and that he highly appreciated their kind invitation, and regretted very much being unable to accept it.

Nothing daunted by his failure to bring about in the Red River Settlement a Government that would be more to its advantage than that of the Hudson’s Bay Company, Mr. Spence had no sooner established himself in Portage la Prairie than, with an optimism perhaps characteristic of genius, he set about the resuscitation of the all but defunct Council of Portage la Prairie. That tiny legislative body had always been deserving of considerable respect because of the sterling character of the men under whom it had originated, and of those who had taken a leading part in its proceedings, and it is regrettable that its culmination into a downright farce could not have been avoided. Undeterred by the fact that the discordant elements that had prevented the Council from properly discharging its functions were as much in evidence as ever, he undertook to reorganize it, seemingly on the assumption that by aligning himself with the faction that showed most respect for his enterprise, education, and a certain sort of knowledge of law, he would be able by moral and physical force to successfully carry out his ambitious project.

In one respect Mr. Spence made no mistake, in that he did not expect his Government scheme to be a success without the approval of the Imperial and Dominion authorities, and so when he had been a month or so in Portage he wrote a letter to the Governor-General of Canada purporting to express the desire of its inhabitants to enjoy British protection, and setting forth “the superior attractions of this part of the British dominions.” After waiting eight months without receiving a reply, he next wrote to Lord Buckingham, Imperial Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. In this letter his aim was evidently to convey the impression to the mind of his Lordship that it expressed the unanimous wish of the people of Portage la Prairie and further that they so confidently anticipated a favourable answer that they were going ahead just as if such answer had already been received. The following paragraph from the letter shows the above to be a fair deduction:

“Early in January last, at a public meeting of settlers, who numbered over four hundred, it was unanimously decided to at once proceed to the election and construction of a government, which has accordingly been carried out; a revenue imposed, public buildings commenced, to carry out the laws, provisions made for Indian treaties, the construction of roads and other public works, tending to promote the interests and welfare of the people.”

This letter was dated February 19, 1868; the answer thereto was dated at Downing Street, May 30, 1868, and would reach Mr. Spence about the middle of August. It read in part as follows: “Sir:—I am directed by the Duke of Buckingham and Chandos” . . . . . . “In these communications you explain that measures have been taken for creating a so-called self-supporting government in Manitoba, within the territories of the Hudson’s Bay Company. The people of Manitoba are probably not aware that the creation of a separate government, in the manner set forth in these papers, has no force, in law, and that they have no authority to create or authorize a government, or even to set up municipal institutions (properly so-called) for themselves, without reference to the Hudson’s Bay Company or the Crown.” . . . “As it is inferred that the intention is to exercise jurisdiction over offenders in criminal cases, to levy taxes compulsorily, and to attempt to put in force other powers which can only be exercised by a properly constituted government, I desire to warn you that you and your co-agitators are acting illegally in this matter, and that by the course you are adopting you are incurring grave responsibilities.”

The foregoing was hardly needed to convince Governor Spence that his coup d’etat had been a dead failure, for soon as he had attempted to levy a tax on the goods brought into the Portage by the Hudson’s Bay Company, and later to fine a Scotsman named McPherson for treasonable language against the Republic, he realized then, to borrow the closing words of Lord Buckingham’s letter, that “he was incurring grave responsibilities”—but how striking the comparison between the two incidents—In 1853 Governor Simpson vainly forbids the commencement of Settlement in Portage la Prairie, and fifteen years later (1868) the Governor of Portage la Prairie demands tribute of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Strictly speaking, it was the Governor of Manitoba who made the demand, for Mr. Spence had had the name Portage la Prairie changed first to Caledonia and later to Manitoba; and we may therefore say that the first province carved out of the north-west territories contains in its name a reminder of those days when the enterprising Mr. Spence caused Portage to be known as the Republic of Manitoba.

When Mr. Spence arrived in Portage la Prairie there was a Mr. Maurice Lowman keeping store on the slough road in the west end of the village, about where Garrioch Street now abuts on Crescent Avenue, in or near Parish Lot 60. The place was only a few yards from where the fight between the Americans and the Bungees had occurred the year before, in which a man on each side was killed. As Mr. Lowman was semi-paralysed, and his only companion and assistant Bob Cook, walked with a crutch, it was only natural that he should seek for some place better suited than Portage la Prairie, to a man in his physical condition; so when, after a residence of about two years, a romantic brother Englishman struck Portage, who was evidently hungering and thirsting after adventure and notoriety, it did not take the two very long to strike a bargain, which enabled Mr. Lowman to remove to St. John’s, Red River Settlement, where a little later he had the honour of being elected as a delegate from that parish to Louis Riel’s convention, while Mr. Spence who also followed the occupation of storekeeper, soon made it a mere side-line, when once he entered upon the ambitious undertaking which brought him the honour of being called Governor, connected with which name there was so little that was pleasant or substantial that when the poetic blacksmith, Mr. Charles Curtis, arrived in Portage, very likely he was more pleased to rid himself of the Lowman property by turning it over to Mr. Curtis than he had been to acquire it. This transfer was made by Mr. Curtis assuming Mr. Spence’s remaining liabilities to Mr. Lowman, while in compensation for payments already made, Mr. Curtis undertook the transport of Mr. Spence, his family and his goods to the Salt Springs on Lake Manitoba, where perchance he found it easier to be as the salt of the earth than when by his own eccentric methods he had tried to let his light shine before the people of Fort Garry and afterwards before those of Portage la Prairie.

During this period when all had to learn to adapt themselves to changing conditions, Mr. George went forward quietly yet vigorously doing a genuine work, and so inspired the members of his congregation with the faith that they had only to keep on working and the success of their Church was assured. Upon the minds of the young especially he made an abiding impression, while with an unmistakable interest in their welfare, he impressed upon them the claims of religion on their best services. His Church views were strict but not narrow. In regard to the relative authority of the Bible and the Church he took the reasonable view of reasonable men, that the two have been joined together by God, and therefore, by man, should never be put asunder.

The progress made by St. Mary’s Church during his pastorate was not striking, but was of the kind that lies more under than on the surface, and therefore does not “show off” in statistics, yet if the records had not been lost no doubt a tabulated statement would have shown that, with due allowance for conditions prevailing at the time, the results of his labours were about as good as could well have been expected. The resignation of Archdeacon Cochrane seemed to be the signal to many of the original members of St. Mary’s congregation to get ready to trek westward, and this went on for years afterwards, and not many of the incoming settlers were Anglicans—certainly very few who located near enough to become members of St. Mary’s Church.

Very soon after moving the schoolhouse into town Mr. George commenced holding the Sunday evening service in it; but continued for some time longer to hold the morning service in the Church by the river. The schoolhouse as erected in town was improved in capacity and ecclesiastical appearance by the addition of a chancel and vestry. Before Mr. George’s death a larger Church was becoming an acknowledged necessity, but it was reserved to his successor to “launch out into the deep” in this matter.

In our inability to understand the dealings of Providence we are liable to wonder sometimes why a useful life is cut short just where it is, and yet when we study the matter as far as we may reverently go, we must always believe—and sometimes we think we can see—that it was at any rate a good “getting off” place and also, for somebody else—a good “getting on” place. During the three years that the writer was connected with the St. Mary’s Sunday School under Mr. George, his favourite Sunday School hymn was: “Hold the Fort for I am Coming” . . . “By Thy grace we will.” Staunchly to the last his life was a response to that request, until the Master came to him and bade him rest.

When still in apparently robust health he had an apoplectic seizure, and although he lived for a week afterwards he never regained consciousness. He died on the 27th May, 1881.

His last sermon which he delivered on the Sunday a few days previous to his death, was on the text: “And I said, O that I had wings like a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest,” Psalm LV., 6. The evident intention in the sermon was to encourage his hearers to seek more and more the rest of God which is to be found in the present life, and is a foretaste of the eternal rest that is to come. The following is the concluding paragraph. I give it just as it came from his pen, though it was not intended for the press:

“I am sure many of you have heard and read of travellers toiling up the pass of Glencoe in Scotland, and finding on the top of the hill a huge stone with these simple words carved on it, ‘Rest and be thankful.’ These words have suggested to many a thoughtful man the journey of life, through this vale of tears—all up hill work—but that when Heaven is gained—when the haven of rest, peace and safety is secured, then we may rest and be thankful. We shall look back upon all the way that we have come, and see that mercy and truth hath followed us all the days of our life. We shall come into the enjoyment of God’s presence, and of Christ’s company, and sit down with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and with all the children of God in the kingdom of rest, and it shall seem to us then as if the toils of the journey, and the burdens and the weight of life now had never been—we shall realize all our desires—we shall soar with wings like doves into the realm of light, of peace of quietude—and far removed from the windy storm and tempest, into the presence and keeping of Christ.”

As stated in the last chapter “the Transfer” with its attendant troubles occurred during the incumbency of Mr. George; and considering the prominent part taken by the citizens of Portage la Prairie in compelling Riel to release his prisoners, and the cost to themselves at which they did so, the writer feels that he has reached the place in his work where he may turn for a little from the history of the Church in Portage to give a brief and simple account of the Riel Rebellion, and in doing so it will be his endeavour to keep in mind a motto, some time that of the “Nor’-Wester”—“Naught extenuate nor aught set down in malice.”

I cannot claim to have been in medias res as were Boulton and Mair and others who have written about those troublous times; but to have been more so than I was, would not have suited my tastes at all. I was near enough, at any rate, to receive the benefit of all the theories and explanations as to how the trouble had originated, and to take part in discussions, and to hear rumours and speculations about what had happened or might happen; and after considering what had happened, and reading much that has been written, I trust the short compendium of facts now subjoined will be found readable, and that in no respect will it be considered unfair, inconsiderate or misleading.

In the first number of the “Nor’-Wester” dated December 28, 1859, there appears a letter by Mr. S. J. Dawson in which he announces the discovery of a good road between the Red River Settlement and the Lake of the Woods; and ten years afterwards along this same road which was being opened up by Ontario and Metis workmen, there commenced the trouble between these workmen of different races which culminated in the Riel Rebellion. The work was being done under the supervision of a Mr. Snow, and the Metis were being employed partly to help them over a time of scarcity—a time of scarcity that was likely to last, for the large bands of Sioux who had now for years spread themselves over the French Half-breeds’ hunting grounds had pretty well depleted them of buffalo so that they had to look for other means of livelihood; in other words, circumstances were compelling them to settle down to steady work. Taking these and other circumstances into consideration the situation was delicate enough to call for the most careful handling in order that trouble might be avoided. Unfortunately some of the men these poor Metis came in contact with were a poor sample of the Ontario Canadian, who only too well answered the description of them that the former had received from prejudiced parties; and at any rate, the construction of a road through a swampy forest while it affords splendid opportunity for the perfecting of an angelic temper, is more liable to furnish to the souls of uncouth mortals the occasion for venting pent-up wrath upon something more sensitive than trees, rocks and muskegs. There was no disarming of prejudices on the Dawson route. The Metis were treated tactlessly and discourteously. Instead of receiving their hard earned pay in cash, they were mostly paid in goods at stores where they did not care to do business. Worst of all some of the Canadians connected with the survey staked out claims on land the Metis considered was theirs, and their remonstrances were treated with scant respect.

Thus it was that the poor Red River Habitant having had the Canadian misrepresented to him in the first case, and having had his erroneous opinions confirmed, the conviction grew in his mind and spread to others, that the Ontario Canadian was a rough, unfriendly, domineering sort of a fellow, and that if the Metis were wise the best thing for them to do was to keep him and his kind out of the country.

Trained to place the responsibility for their faith on other shoulders than their own, and confiding and credulous enough to invite exploitation by the unscrupulous, they were easily persuaded that the English Canadians were about to take possession of their country and that they would be treated as so many dogs. This opinion was voiced so frequently and emphatically that at length people thought it worth considering. Among those was the writer. He treated the matter in this way: thinking of the characteristics of all the Canadians who were known to him, he compared them with those of a like number of average specimens of his own fellow-countrymen, with the result that they were found to be about on a par, neither having anything to boast of and neither in a position to throw stones.

Besides the troubles due to prejudice and discordant temperaments, the presence of some Americans in the Settlement helped to complicate matters, for some of those gentlemen took a lively interest in the Transfer, and were outspoken enough to try and persuade the people that Garry, as they called it, was the lawful and natural prey of the American eagle. These gentlemen doubtless correctly “calculated” that once Rupert’s Land became a part of Canada, their increasing trade northwards would receive a serious set-back, and the forty-ninth parallel become more of a gulf than merely an imaginary line; and so they tried to do themselves and the stars and stripes a good turn by telling the settlers that when the Hudson’s Bay rule came to an end, as all could see would very soon happen, the proper country to take their place was not Canada but the United States of America.

How easy it was for an astute American to support such a contention with sufficient history and logic to satisfy the untutored French Half-breeds; to remind them that the land on which they lived had been French until a few decades previously; and to convince them that there was no valid reason for it not having continued so. How logically they could speak of sympathy because they too had once been subject to Great Britain, and finding her yoke too galling had cast it off. Such a story could be told very effectively by a shrewd American who had an eye to business, more particularly as the geographical position of the Metis rendered a transfer of their allegiance rather easy, seeing that they lived on both sides of the boundary, and those on the one side mingled so freely with their congeners on the other that the loyalty of the race had become of a somewhat complex and indefinable character. Possibly in calling themselves the “New Nation” as they sometimes did, there was a hint that some day they calculated to emulate the example of Uncle Sam, and guess that they were free.

It is not much to be wondered at that during the rebellion it was strongly suspected that responsible and interested parties intentionally neglected the precautionary measures whereby interference with the carrying out of the terms of the Transfer might have been prevented. Neglect there certainly was, and of such a palpable character, that the suspicion of reasonable mortals was bound to follow. Certainly it does seem strange that there should not have been foresight enough on the part of the Imperial Government and their advisers to make some proper provision against possible trouble. It had on different occasions previously supplied a small military force to support the authority of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and it would have been a well justified act of prudence to have quietly sent such a force to be stationed in the Settlement, before the Canadian Government had any excuse for making a move to take possession of the country. Then all parties would have had a right to be consulted, would have had a chance to state their case, and although negotiations might sometimes have reached a critical stage, there would have been no impasse and no rebellion, and no regrettable imputations of secret and cowardly connivance at rebellion, due to Canada in her unseemly haste having run the ferrule of her umbrella through the hat of Mrs. H. B. Company—incorporated 1670—causing her to exclaim indignantly “Why don’t you look where you are going?”

The following extract from Isaac Cowie’s book—“The Company of Adventurers,” page 396—would seem to exonerate the Imperial Government, but Mr. Cowie it will be noticed, blames the Canadian Government and the English stockholders of the H. B. Company, for creating the necessity for a military force:

“I have been told on good authority that the secretary of the Hudson’s Bay Company in London alleged, after Governor McTavish’s death that he had been so confident of his personal influence and that of his counsellors, including Bishops Tache and Machray and other highly representative men from different classes of settlers, that when a detachment of British Troops was offered to be stationed at Fort Garry, he refused them, saying he was quite able to complete the transfer peacefully without outside aid. Probably the secretary’s information was true as far as it went, for had common sense and a sense of justice actuated the Company and Canada at the time, instead of troops being required to inaugurate the transfer of the Government of the country to Canada, the inhabitants generally would have hailed the change with joy.”

As the inhabitants generally did not hail the change with joy, and a considerable number took up arms to resist it, the Canadian authorities realizing their mistake endeavoured to right the ship of state by calling the Church to its aid. The Church to which this doubtful compliment was paid was, of course, the Roman Catholic Church whose members in the opinion of the Federal authorities, politically speaking, had erred and strayed from the right way. The other residents in the Settlement largely belonged to the Anglican Church who did not need or expect directions from the pulpit in regard to the transfer, and the Presbyterians and other Protestants were equally well informed and independent. They felt that they had been treated none too courteously by the Canadian Government, but as they were about to get what so many of them had asked for—a change of Government—they were willing to pocket their dignity and let matters take their course, until the time came when they would have their chance to speak, when they believed they would receive what was just and reasonable. With the Metis it was entirely different; the Federal authorities made no mistake when they made use of Bishop Tache to bring them back to the right way. Riel pretty thoroughly controlled the situation once he took possession of Fort Garry; but the real man of the hour was Bishop Tache. Fortunately he was a wise and benevolent prelate, and the one man who could say to over half the population of the country, “do this,” and they would do it. Unfortunately, Bishops, like ordinary mortals can occupy only one place at a time, and even they may be invisible when ordinary mortals would have been otherwise. I did myself the honour of calling at St. Boniface palace in 1872, and was told by the priest-in-waiting: “His Grace is invisible today.” So it had happened in 1869—when His Grace might have been so useful at St. Boniface, he was invisible. In fact he had been so for some time, having been summoned to Rome to an Ecumenical Council called for the 8th December, 1869, for the purpose of settling the long proposed dogma of papal infallibility. Possibly had the discovery been made more quickly that the Pope ex officio is infallible there might have been no rebellion; but as things went, while he was assisting in solving the knotty point at Rome, his misguided sheep were doing their best to establish the infallibility of Louis Riel, and what with the inexplicable attitude of the Hudson’s Bay Company, the neutrality of the English, the connivance of Pere Richot and O’Donohue and the encouragement of a few American citizens, they certainly made a pretty successful beginning.

This beginning assumed a practical form when the Metis assembled at the house of Pere Richot, and there organized what they called a National Committee, with John Bruce as president and Louis Riel as secretary. The first act of the committee was to erect a barricade consisting of a few light fence-rails placed across the thoroughfare between Pembina and Fort Garry at Scratching River opposite the house of Pere Richot.

The Hon. William Macdougall who had been appointed Lieutenant Governour of the North-West Territories on the 28th September, arrived at Pembina with his family and staff on the 30th October. There he was met by a squad of Metis who handed him the following communication:

“A Monsieur W. McDougall.

Monsieur,—Le Comité National des Métis de la Rivière Rouge intima a Monsieur W. McDougall l’Ordre de na pas entrer sur le territoire du nord-ouest, sans une permission spéciale de ce Comité.

“Per ordre du President,

John Bruce.

Louis Riel,

Secretary.”

“To Mr. W. McDougall.

Sir,—The National Committee of the Metis of the Red River, order Mr. McDougall not to enter the territory of the North-West without the special permission of the Committee.

“By order of the President,

John Bruce.

Louis Riel,

Secretary.”

Dated at St. Norbert,

Red River,

The 21st October, 1869.

It was likely in order to obtain fuller information of the political situation in the Red River Settlement than was contained in the foregoing document that the Governour’s Aide, Capt. Cameron, essayed to reach Fort Garry. For that purpose he started out from Pembina in a buggy. He met with no obstruction till he came to the flimsy one at Scratching River, alongside which stood two or three men on guard. He approached to within a few yards of the barricade and adjusting his monocle he authoritatively drawled out the command—“Remove that blawsted fence.” The comical side of the situation appeared to the Metis, as did the perfect coolness of the gallant officer, and knowing that he must be cold and hungry one of them took hold of his horse by the bridle and conducted him to the Curè, where he accepted hospitality before journeying back to his superior at Pembina. Many of these Metis are splendid mimics, and often afterwards provoked much laughter by their clever acting of the episode at Scratching River.

On the 22nd October which was prior to this incident by more than a week, a Mr. Hydman made an affidavit before Dr. Cowan who was a justice of the peace and the officer in charge at Fort Garry to the effect that the French were holding meetings at Scratching River, and that much dissatisfaction was being expressed at the changes being introduced by the Canadian Government. Besides this, two members of the district constabulary force, Messrs. Mulligan and Powers, offered to procure a sufficient number of men to hold Fort Garry, so as to prevent its possible capture by the Metis. The writer lived only a little over a mile from Fort Garry all through the Transfer troubles, and frequently heard the two aforementioned incidents commented on, and surprise expressed that no attention had been given to the timely warnings of what was liable to happen. Of the score of histories on the Metis uprising that I have read since, with a single exception they concur in the popular opinion that the “open gate” policy of the Hudson’s Bay Company furnished just cause for unfavourable comments. The one writer who furnishes the single exception somewhat begs the question.—Mr. Alexander Begg thinks the crowd all wrong, in that the Hydman affidavit conveyed no hint of a Metis uprising or of any intention to seize Fort Garry, while the offer made by Messrs. Mulligan and Powers was not made until after Riel and his followers were securely ensconced in Fort Garry. Mr. Begg would have made out a better case had he left the Hydman affidavit alone. What was it intended to be if not a warning? And surely Dr. Cowan had more to do than to take purposeless affidavits. Mr. Begg was in a splendid condition to get his facts correctly, but in a poor position to form an opinion without bias, for he was business partner with A. G. Bannatyne in a general store which catered to the Metis as well as others, and Mr. Bannatyne and the H. B. Governor, Wm. McTavish, were married to sisters, and the latter being at this time in very poor health, Mr. Bannatyne had to act as go-between for him and the Metis. But to pass on to what followed the failure of the Hudson’s Bay Company to be benefitted by friendly warnings.

On the 2nd November, Louis Riel with one hundred Metis marched along the highway from La Riviere Salle to Fort Garry, and finding the gates open marched in and proceeded to billet himself and his men in such of the buildings as he considered suitable to his purpose; or, to quote from Rev. R. G. McBeath’s history: “He proceeded to make himself comfortable by utilizing the furniture intended for Governour McDougall.” Furthermore, Mr. McBeath writes: “It has been fashionable in some quarters to accuse the Hudson’s Bay Company of conniving at this seizure and at the rebellion generally, but the utter absurdity of assertions like these is apparent to anyone who thinks upon the subject.” The writer has done some thinking, but up to the present time does not quite know it all. In regard to Dr. Cowan I can speak with assurance. When greatly needing the services of a physician and surgeon, it was my good fortune to be under his care, and the knowledge of his character gained at that time and subsequently enables me to say without the slightest hesitation, that he was not the sort of man who would knowingly let himself down to become a party to any such underhanded policy. Sooner than do so I am sure he would have made his escape over the wall as later on did the other doughty M.D.—Dr. Schultz.

Major Boulton states in his history that “the Settlement was astounded one day by the news that Riel had captured Fort Garry.” We certainly were astonished, and when we learned how easily it had been done, were disgusted as well. At this present time (1922) it is commonly believed that for some reason or other it suited the Hudson’s Bay Company to allow the Metis to take possession of Fort Garry, but that when Louis Riel became afflicted with swelled head, and acted the role of a Little Napoleon, they could not then get rid of him though it would have given them the greatest of pleasure to have unceremoniously kicked him out.

If the Hudson’s Bay Company have been unjustly blamed for complicity in the Riel Rebellion, they must admit that they have their “policy of masterly inaction” to blame for that. They would certainly have shown a finer sense of moral obligation and have better discharged their legal obligations, had they not been quite so peace-loving as to allow Riel to take possession of Fort Garry in the way he did. It has been supposed that some explanation for their inertia may be found in a proper consideration of the following facts:—The Canadian Government had pressed for the relinquishment of any rights in the country that the company might have, and were very much given to questioning the validity of their claim, but finally had conceded the justice of said claim and had become party to a contract by which it was to be transferred to them on payment of £300,000; and then, before payment had been made, with unseemly haste they had rushed in to take possession of the country. Why, it is plausibly asked, should the Honourable Hudson’s Bay Company have been in any unseemly haste to part with two million, three hundred thousand square miles of country that they had owned and ruled for two hundred years, and for which there had been nothing to pay except perhaps what is stipulated with royal munificence in the charter of Charles Second, viz.: “Two elks and two black beaver wheresoever and as often as we, our heirs and successors, shall happen to enter the said country, territories and regions.”

The Transfer meant to them that their officers would hold ordinary positions in the country where before they had been rulers and Governors, and as if it were intended that this fact should be thoroughly impressed upon their minds, the first man appointed Governor under the new regime was the Hon. Wm. McDougall—the man who perhaps more than any other in the Ontario legislature or in Canada, had rendered the Transfer inevitable. Were they likely to be delighted over his appointment, or to be moved with wrath towards those who had given him a very cool reception at Pembina? Not likely.

Not only had Mr. McDougall recommended the acquisition of the Hudson’s Bay Territories and their inclusion in the Confederation; but he contended that this should be done without any monetary consideration in the company’s favour, and it is not strange that the deputation appointed by the Canadian Government to discuss this matter with the Hudson’s Bay Company in England was a failure, seeing that it consisted of himself and Sir George E. Cartier, and that in discussing the matter with the H. B. Governor, Sir Edmond Head and the other directors he adhered to the stand he had taken. Negotiations, however, did not cease, and the Imperial Government realizing that the position of the Hudson’s Bay Company in Rupert’s Land would not much longer be tenable, induced them to dispose of their rights.

Fortunately for the Hudson’s Bay Company during its two centuries’ record as a conservator of British interests in North-West America, there had never been any occasion to call its loyalty into question, and now that it was about to be relieved from the burden of government it was only fitting that it should receive some substantial acknowledgment. Fortunately also for the venerable monopoly it had been from the time of its inception so associated with the Imperial Government that there was between the two a strong bond of union, so that notwithstanding the opinion of Mr. W. McDougall and other leading Canadians that the company’s claim was not well grounded, the Imperial Government stood by them and with a paternal regard for its welfare as well as that of the Canadian Government strongly advised both to enter into an equitable arrangement by which Canada could take over the government of the country with the least possible delay.

Accordingly it was finally settled that the Dominion Government should pay the sum of three hundred thousand pounds to the Hudson’s Bay Company, on the surrender of their rights, and that the Hudson’s Bay Company should retain one twentieth of the land in the fertile belt and N.W. Territories. In this agreement the date fixed for the taking over of the country by the Dominion Government was the first day of October, 1869.

If the English stockholders did not feel disposed to accelerate the carrying out of this contract, the “wintering partners” might well have felt less disposed to do so, for in their opinion the deed pole drawn up in 1821, defining their status and rights as stockholders, had on different occasions not been faithfully adhered to; for instance, when the international boundary had been fixed and the company had to withdraw from Oregon, they received liberal compensation for the property and trade which they had abandoned, and the modicum of this which was grudgingly allowed the “wintering partners” was considered by them to be niggardly and unfair. Then in 1863 they were still more completely ignored, for in that year the capitalistic shareholders sold out the business—shares, property and rights—for the sum of £1,500,000, and then proceeded to sell stock and form a new company under the old name, to be operated by the same staff of officials in Rupert’s Land, but placed on a different footing—the commissioned officers were to be paid by salary instead of dividends as previously. All this was done without the said “wintering partners” having been consulted; and it is said that if the directors of the company had insisted on carrying out the last-named innovation, it would have led to the officials in this country severing their connection with the English shareholders and going into the fur trade on their own account.

After having been thus unkindly treated by their brothers in England, it would not have been strange if some of the H. B. officers at Fort Garry had had fellow feeling for the Metis that made them wondrous kind, and disposed them to join in asserting the opinion that the people of this country “are good as any other and not too innocent to look after themselves.”

Governor McTavish visited England in 1864, and during the winter spent there, made an honest but ineffectual effort to reconcile the discordant views of the two classes of stockholders separated from each other by the Atlantic Ocean. One concession, however, Governor McTavish did secure, and had he failed it is believed he intended to sever his connection with the company. It was agreed that the Chief Factors and Chief Traders should receive dividends as before instead of payment by salary as had been proposed, and that this arrangement should hold good till the Transfer had taken place. So after the transaction had been completed, the terms with which the shareholders in this country had to be satisfied were as follows, viz.: They were to receive £107,000 out of the £300,000 paid by the Canadian Government to the company, and to obtain this they relinquished their vested rights in the capital stock. Then as regards the one-twentieth of the land in this country which the company were allowed to retain, they did not participate in that.

Riel very soon made it clear that he had relieved the Hudson’s Bay Company of the trouble of governing the country, and realizing that his would be a difficult task unless he secured the aid of the English-speaking people, he approached them on the subject through the representative men who were members of the Council of Assiniboia. These English were willing to make the most of the friendly relations long existing between the Metis and the other native-born settlers, and counting much on the restraining influence they might be able to exert in Council upon these people who had so easily become the tools of unscrupulous rogues, they consented to send delegates to a convention which Riel announced by proclamation for Thursday, November 16th. In the preamble of the proclamation he said: “The invaders of our rights being now expelled,” and finished by stating that the convention is called “to consider the present political state of this country, and to adopt such measures as may be best fitted for the future welfare of the same.”

ENGLISH MEMBERS

Fort Garry—H. F. Kenny, H. F. O’Lone.

Kildonan—James Ross.

St. John’s—Maurice Lowman.

St. Paul’s—Dr. Bird.

St. Andrew’s—Donald Gunn.

St. Clements—Thomas Bunn.

St. Peter’s—Henry Prince.

St. James’—Robert Tait.

St. Anne’s—George Gunn.

Headingly—William Tait.

Portage la Prairie—John Garrioch.

FRENCH MEMBERS

St. Francis Xavier—Francois Dauphinas, Pierre Poitras, Pierre Laviellier.

St. Boniface—W. B. O’Donohue.

St. Vital—Andre Beauchomin, Pierre Paranteau.

St. Norbert—Baptiste Lowron, Louis Lacarte.

St. Anne’s—Charles Nolin, Jean Baptiste Perrault.

John Bruce, President.

Louis Riel, Secretary.

The court house was guarded by one hundred and fifty armed Metis, and when Maurice Lowman, the English delegate from St. John’s, approached the place in his cariole, and beheld such a war-like display, he turned about and returned whence he came. Perhaps the other English delegates would have acted wisely had they followed his example.

By the time this convention met, Governor McTavish also had tried his hand at a proclamation, and it was read on this occasion. In it he recounted Riel’s various acts of pillage and infringements on the rights of others. It read in part as follows: “Fourthly, not only without permission, but in the face of repeated remonstrances on the part of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s officers in immediate charge of Fort Garry, they have in numbers varying from sixty to one hundred and twenty billeted themselves upon the establishment under the plea of protecting from a danger which they alleged was known to themselves to be imminent, but of which they have never yet disclosed the particular nature, they have placed at the gates of an establishment, which, every stick and stone of it is private property, in spite of the most distinct protestations against such disregard of the rights of property, they have taken possession of rooms within the fort, and though have there as yet committed no direct act of violence to person or property beyond what has been enumerated, yet by their presence in such numbers with arms for no legitimate purpose which can be assigned, they have created a state of excitement and alarm within and around the fort, which seriously interferes with the regular business of the establishment.”

The writing of this proclamation did not detract anything from the reputation of being a good man, which was enjoyed by Governor McTavish; but as may be supposed his action brought down upon himself the displeasure of Louis Riel, who is said to have called upon the bed-ridden Governor and in anything but choice words denounced his action as reprehensible, threatening him and the other Hudson’s Bay Company officers with imprisonment for what he had done.

Perhaps it is little to be wondered at that in such a gigantic undertaking as the Confederation of the different Governments of British North America, with the multiplicity of conflicting interests involved, there should have occurred complications which baffled the wisest of men, and induced some leading politicians to try methods of straightening out the tangle which are not to be commended, and which had no real effect except to dim otherwise brilliant careers.

“In the multitude of counsellors there is safety,” saith the wise man; but the implied corollary—provided they are the right sort, must have been overlooked in the choice of some of Sir John A. McDonald’s lieutenants, who would seem to have been so eager to expedite the obsequies of the Hudson’s Bay Company that they went the right way to land themselves in trouble, and to cause some of their fellow-countrymen to be left stranded in the Red River Settlement where they had to study on the one hand how best to serve the Government by whom they were engaged, and, on the other, how best not to involve the people among whom thy were constrained to dwell in ten times greater trouble than that from which they had come to deliver them. Among the stranded ones may be mentioned Colonel Dennis and Major Boulton, whose tact, courage and resourcefulness would have overmatched the cunning Riel, had there not been in league with him such men as Pere Richot and O’Donohue, men whose connexion with the Roman Catholic Church inclined the simple and confiding Metis to believe that in submitting to the leadership of Louis Riel, they were carrying out the wishes of Holy Mother Church.

When the convention first met, Governor McTavish’s proclamation gave both English and French something to think about; but it was of little use, for Riel was rapidly rising in his self-esteem and evidently thought that the Governor should not have spoken so bluntly about his patriotic subjects who had expelled the invaders of his rights. On the 22nd November the convention met again, and Riel introduced the proposal of forming a Provisional Government. The reply from the English delegates was that without special instructions from their constituents they would not enter into the discussion of such a question. When one of the English delegates proposed that Mr. McDougall be allowed to enter the country to explain what the Canadian Government meant to do for the people of the country, Riel sprang to his feet in a great state of excitement, declaring that such a thing would never be permitted. At this session the English delegates were hopeful of having gained some influence over the French who were evidently inclined to concur in their view—that it would be wise to continue to honour the Hudson’s Bay Company as the Government in authority, until such time as the Imperial Government had established another in its place, and that in the meantime it would do no harm if they would agree in the appointment of a representative committee to confer with Mr. McDougall at Pembina. When these delegates met once more on December 1st, the English found to their chagrin that instead of the French being any longer disposed to act on their suggestion of a conference with Mr. McDougall, they had been talked over to support Riel in his determination to form a Provisional Government, and he had all ready for the approval of the convention a bill of rights consisting of fifteen articles. As two of the English delegates were not loyal British subjects, and one had absented himself, while a fourth was with Riel in his opposition of the Canadian Government, it is not to be wondered at that the bill of rights carried, however strongly an intelligent minority might oppose some of its demands.

On the 31st October Mr. McDougall wrote to the authorities at Ottawa of his failure to reach Fort Garry, owing to the uprising of the Metis; and when this news was cabled to the Imperial Government negotiations were for the time being called off.

Not being aware of this, he supposed the Transfer would take place on December 1st as last agreed upon, so he waited till that date and then issued a royal proclamation calling upon all loyal subjects to rally to his support. In addition to this he issued a second proclamation, in which he commissioned Colonel Dennis to be his lieutenant and conservator of the peace, and to recruit and arm a force of loyal citizens sufficient to put down any opposition that might be offered to the occupation of the country by the Canadian authorities. Copies of this commission were at once printed in the “Nor’-Wester” Office by Dr. Bown and freely circulated.

On December 1st Riel laid hands on all the copies of this document that he could find and destroyed them. At the same time he called at Dr. Schultz’ house intending to take him prisoner. The doctor was, however, not in, being at the time at the Lower Fort whither he had gone to discuss the situation with Colonel Dennis.

Major Boulton calls Mr. McDougall’s action in issuing a proclamation on the assumption that all had gone according to schedule in the East—a Coup d’etat. Whatever it was, particulars soon got to be known, and the effect on recruiting soon convinced Colonel Dennis that he was not likely to succeed in getting the required force, so he wrote Dr. Schultz and the sixty Canadians who were guarding the government supplies at his place, instructing them to leave and make their way if possible to Kildonan schoolhouse, and on no account to be first to provoke a conflict. Unfortunately, his messenger was captured by Riel’s scouts. For three days longer they held the place, when being in want of both wood and water they decided that on the next day—the seventh of the siege—they would endeavour to cut their way out.

On the morning of that day they were visited by a deputation from the fort bearing a flag of truce. The deputation consisted of A. G. B. Bannatyne, Lepine and Moran. They brought a message from Riel telling them that he knew of Colonel Dennis’s advice to surrender, and he would only ask that they come to the fort, where, after giving up their arms, they would be set at liberty. The day passed in a vain endeavour by Dr. Schultz to get reasonable terms of surrender. In the evening Riel bore down upon the Canadian house of refuge accompanied by about three hundred Metis and sent in to the doctor and his companions the following mandate: “Communication received this 7th day of December, 1869. Dr. Schultz and his companions are hereby ordered to give up their arms and surrender themselves. Their lives will be spared should they comply. In case of refusal all the English Half-breeds and other natives, women and children, are at liberty to depart unmolested.”

Notwithstanding the assurances of Mr. Bannatyne given earlier in the day that they would lose neither liberty nor property by surrender, few trusted Riel, and when the signing of the mandate was agreed upon in token of surrender, many of those who signed did so, not because they would not sooner have fought than risk indignities they had only too good cause to anticipate, but because they were calm enough to take into consideration the greater miseries that many others might have to endure if once a bloody conflict was commenced.

The signing of the names, however, being completed, they were marched to the fort, a feu de joie was fired, the gates were closed and all were placed in durance vile.

As Mrs. Schultz was ill she was placed in a sleigh and the doctor hauled her all the way, a distance of eight hundred yards—not a heavy load it is true, as Mrs. Schultz was a small woman, while the doctor was a big man some inches over six feet, with a magnificent physique, and every whit as muscular as he looked. In 1867 the writer was at St. Cloud and present at the railway station when the doctor’s carts were being loaded with goods for the return to the Settlement. As each ox-cart received its load averaging about nine hundred pounds, it was hauled aside from the platform to make room for the next. A stalwart Half-breed had made a determined but vain effort to move one of these loaded carts aside, when the doctor came up and taking his place between the shafts, rapidly and gracefully moved it the required distance, and as he returned said to his man, “You see, Tom, I am the better ox.”

On December the 10th Riel hoisted the flag of the Provisional Government. It was a combination of the fleur de lis and shamrock appearing on a white ground. About this time, too, it was given out that John Bruce was ill, and he retired from the presidency to be succeeded by Riel. On the 18th December Mr. McDougall left Pembina on his return to Ottawa, and Captain and Mrs. Cameron left a few days later.

At first the English and Scottish were disposed to notice mainly what was ridiculous and absurd in the proceedings of Riel; but by this time it was realized that the character of the man contained a most serious menace to the peace and prosperity of the inhabitants of the country.

He had boasted before that the Indians would join the French whenever they were needed. If they did not do so it was due to a sane element among the English and French and the Indians themselves. It was due to the Anglican missionaries and men such as McKay, Monkman, Breland, Hamlin, and Dease, nor must the name of Wm. McDougall be omitted, for before leaving Pembina he took steps to have the Indians well informed as to the true state of affairs, and with that object Major Boulton was stationed at Portage la Prairie, while for the same purpose Joseph Monkman was sent from camp to camp among the Indians living on the borders of Lake Winnipeg.

From Christmas, 1869, to well on in March the English-speaking inhabitants adopted towards Riel and his Provisional Government a policy of semi-acquiescence, varying from it only when the residents of Portage la Prairie no longer able to restrain their indignation at reports of Riel’s treatment of his prisoners, formed a company of volunteers who, marching towards Fort Garry, with the aid of volunteers from other parts of the Settlement, succeeded in bringing about their release.

Before this had been accomplished, Riel had strengthened his position by the power of the press as well as that of the sword. By aiding the press with the sword he had capped the climax, so to speak, and rendered the previous government hors de combat, why, therefore, might not the press now aid the sword so as to render his infant government morally as well as physically invulnerable? To this end he acquired the newspaper of the day—the “Red River Pioneer”—successor to the “Nor’-Wester,” owned as had been the other, by Mr. William Coldwell.

In order to obtain the five hundred and fifty pounds, the price of the press, circumstances forced Riel to ask the Hudson’s Bay Company to lend or donate that sum in the interests of good government. John McTavish, the accountant, who was a Roman Catholic, and supposed to be the one officer in the fort who sympathized with Riel, refused to reveal the combination of the safe although threatened with a gun. It turned out, however, that either in the flesh or in a disembodied condition he was dispensable, for O’Donohue as treasurer of the Provisional Government, had probably become something of an expert in combinations or the lay of inner circles, and he succeeded in opening the safe.

When the powers at Ottawa continued to receive disturbing reports of the doings of Riel and the Metis, it must be said to their credit that they promptly made an effort to counteract the mistakes they had made, and doubtless the conciliatory policy which they adopted was expedient, and what they are to be blamed for is following it up to the extreme of condoning crime.

A commission of three was sent to the Settlement, and its composition plainly showed that the government had rightly sized up the situation, and knew what part of the community needed special treatment. The commissioners were: Vicar General Thibault, Colonel De Salaberry and Donald A. Smith. The first named reached St. Boniface, December 26th, the second arrived at Fort Garry a day later, and the last named a few days later still. Had the Canadian Government exercised as fine a diplomacy at the first as was shown in the selection of the above delegation there might never have arisen the need of such a delegation.

The “Red River Pioneer” purchased from Mr. Coldwell, when converted into the organ of the Provisional Government was termed “The New Nation,” and was edited by a Mr. Robinson who advocated the annexation of the Red River Settlement to the United States of America. The first number appeared on the 7th January, 1870, and as if Canada sensed the danger of being pounced upon by the American eagle to be borne hence and placed in the loving embraces of Uncle Sam, it happened on the same day Mr. Robinson was striking off the first copies of the “New Nation” the Ottawa authorities were sending a telegram to Bishop Tache at Rome asking him if he would be willing to return to aid by his presence among the Metis in settling the Red River troubles. He agreed, and left Rome the next day. Before leaving Ottawa for the Settlement he received a letter from Sir John A. Macdonald, dated 16th February. This letter contained the government’s instructions to Commissioner Tache, also the promise of an amnesty, it being apparently assumed that no murder would be committed by the insurrectionists before the Bishop reached Fort Garry, and it was this ignoring of contingencies that led to the diplomatic contest between Church and State in regard to which it is commonly believed that if results were not a tie, victory perched on the banners of the Church.

Mr. Smith had left his commission at Pembina, but sometime after his arrival he arranged with Riel to have it sent for, on the understanding that he would be allowed an opportunity of meeting the people of the Settlement to acquaint them with its contents. Accordingly, Mr. Smith’s secretary, Mr. R. Hardisty, and one of Riel’s men set out for the papers. Three stalwart loyalists—Angus McKay, John F. Grant and Pierre Laveillier—were sent by Mr. Smith to await their arrival at a point twenty miles south of Fort Garry. They had not been there long when Mr. Hardisty and his companion arrived. Though it was midnight they started on their return, but turned aside at the house of Laboncan Dauphinais, where a dance was going on, at which they seemed to so dance themselves into each others good graces, that when they resumed their journey next morning a sympathetic crowd accompanied them to the fort. It transpired that Riel having learned of Mr. Hardisty’s arrival had visited Dauphinais’s house while the dance was in progress, but had not cared to enter, and in the morning he tried to reach the fort in advance, and in one of his attempts to get ahead of the procession he got into an altercation with Laveillier who drew a pistol and might have shot him had not Grant and others interfered. Pere Richot also tried to influence Laveillier but received scant notice.

The interest shown in Mr. Smith’s commission made it clear to Riel that he would not be able to prevent the public from learning its contents, for some of his French supporters were evidently growing cold, nor were the pro-American sentiments expressed by the “New Nation,” doing his cause any good, while by the English his actions were regarded with increasing aversion. For these various reasons he felt that he would have to stand by his word in this instance, so notice was given of a public meeting to be held at the court house on January 19th. On the appointed day one thousand people assembled there, but as the building was too small the meeting was held outdoors in a temperature twenty degrees below zero.

A good deal of disappointment was expressed that Donald A. Smith did not more firmly assert his authority, and require of Riel before the reading of the Queen’s proclamation or immediately after it, the hoisting of the British flag in place of the Fleur de Lis, the laying down of arms and the release of all prisoners.

The cold did not seem to be conducive to the rapid dispatch of business, and much time was consumed in the wordy sparring in which Mr. Riel was almost always one of the principals, so that when night was coming on, Mr. Smith’s commission, and the Queen’s proclamation were not finished even in the reading.

On the following day a still larger crowd assembled, and a resolution was passed to the effect that the English and French should each elect twenty delegates to meet in the court house on Tuesday, January 25th, to consider the subject of Mr. Smith’s commission, and to decide on what had better be done in the interests of the country.

Two days before the convention met, Dr. Schultz made his escape by using a jack-knife and a gimlet that Mrs. Schultz had cleverly smuggled into his room. Cutting his buffalo robe so as to form a long line, he fastened one end to the window sill and proceeded to let himself down. Unfortunately the line gave way and in the fall his leg was injured. Yet despite his lameness he managed to scale the wall without further injury.

On account of his lameness it became necessary that he should seek a house of refuge not very far away, and in selecting the house of Mr. John McBeath he paid a high compliment to the honour and chivalry of that gentleman, whose views he well knew strongly conflicted with his own respecting the rule of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Mr. McBeath showed that the doctor’s confidence in him was placed in something more trustworthy than the miserable buffalo line. For two days he waited on him as faithfully as if he had been his own brother, and on the second night his son with horse and cutter took him down to St. Peter’s. Rev. R. G. McBeath in his book—“The Makers of the Canadian West”—touchingly refers to “a graceful allusion by Sir John Schultz,” when a few years later at the unveiling of the Seven Oaks’ monument he made allusion to his father as “the man who at great personal risk had opened to him the door of welcome in his extremity.”

According to the resolution passed at the mass meeting of January 19th, the delegates met in the court house on the 25th and from that date to February 10th daily sessions were the rule. Judge Black was unanimously voted to the chair, and Messrs. William Coldwell and Louis Schmidt were appointed secretaries, while Messrs. James Ross and Louis Riel agreed to act as interpreters.

The following is a list of delegates as given in Gunn and Tuttle’s history of Manitoba:

FRENCH REPRESENTATIVES

St. Paul’s—M. Thibert, Alex. Pagée, Maquer Briston.

St. Francis Xavier—Xavier Pagée, Pierre Poitras.

St. Boniface—W. B. O’Donohue, A. Lapine, Jos. Genton, Louis Schmidt.

St. Vital—Louis Riel, A. Beauchomin.

St. Norbert—P. Paranteau, N. Larouche, B. Towron.

Point Coupee—Louis Lacerte, P. Delorme.

Oak Point—Frs. Nolin, C. Nolin.

Pt. a Grouette—George Klyne.

ENGLISH REPRESENTATIVES

St. Peter’s—Rev. H. Cochrane, Thomas Spence.

St. Clements—Thomas Bunn, Alex. McKenzie.

St. Andrew’s—Judge Black, D. Gunn, Senr., Alfred Boyd.

St. Paul’s—Dr. Bird.

Kildonan—John Fraser, John Sutherland.

St. John’s—James Ross.

St. James’—George Flett, Robert Tait.

Headingly—John Taylor, W. Lonsdale.

St. Mary’s la Prairie—K. McKenzie.

St. Margaret’s, High Bluff—W. Cummings.

St. Anne’s, Poplar Point—Geo. Gunn, David Spence.

Winnipeg—Alfred A. Scott.

On the third day on which these delegates met, the following committee was elected to draw up a bill of rights: Thos. Bunn, James Ross, Dr. Bird, Louis Riel, Louis Schmidt and Charles Nolin. In reality the work of this committee was taken up in revising the bill of rights previously drawn up by Riel and his lieutenants, and to which the English delegates had given unwilling consent at the meeting of December 1st, 1869. The revision of this bill was submitted at a meeting of the forty representatives held in the court house on January 29th, and it occupied the attention of the convention from that date to February 5th. Riel made a strong effort to have a final clause added calling for the annulment of the contract between the Canadian Government and the Hudson’s Bay Company, but failing for lack of the solid vote of the French delegates, he flew into a rage and acted like a madman.

On the 7th February the Canadian Government commissioners met the delegates in convention. Mr. D. A. Smith turned the opportunity to good account and assured the delegates of the government’s sincere desire to treat the Red River settlers with fairness and generosity. He also informed them that he was authorized to invite them to elect two or more delegates to proceed to Ottawa to confer with the government and legislature, and to give information as to the wishes of the people and to arrange for representation in parliament. He stated that he was asked to give assurance of a hearty welcome and that everything reasonable would be done to have matters settled to the satisfaction of the people of the North-West. The English delegates were very pleased with the bright prospects of a speedy and amicable settlement. In fact all were agreed as to the wisdom of sending delegates to Ottawa without loss of time; but as it was considered desirable that the delegates should be armed with the authority of the government of the country, it became necessary first of all to settle the question as to which of the two powers having their seat of government in Fort Garry would the powers at Ottawa be more likely to regard as the government of the Red River Settlement. Riel, of course, took the stand that the Hudson’s Bay Company as a governing power was practically defunct, while the Provisional Government was very much alive. On their part the English representatives placed their hope of good results much more on the government in the East and the character of the men who might comprise the delegation, than on the character of any government authority existing in the Red River Settlement at that time. And, after all, who did not know that this was a matter touching Riel’s lust of power, and that if he could manage it, he and his government were not going to be ousted by Governor McTavish and the Hudson’s Bay Company.

This matter was settled to Riel’s satisfaction at a meeting of the representatives held on February 9th. The Scottish who throughout favoured conciliatory measures were ably represented by Messrs. John Sutherland and William Fraser, and these gentlemen on the above date called on Governor McTavish and asked for his views as to the advisability of forming a Provisional Government. His answer was that of a very sick man who was nearing the distant scene and doubtless desired peace above all things—“Form a government for God’s sake,” he replied, “and restore peace and order in the Settlement.”

It was thus, as a matter of expediency, that the delegates of the English-speaking people of the Settlement were led to give a grudging semi-extorted consent to the formation of a “Provisional Government,” which in the discharge of its functions was neither more nor less than anarchy masquerading under another name, and making history—bad to write or read—for any one loyal or sane.

A good many spoke contemptuously of the government as the “Pemmican Government,” as it was known chiefly to exist on Hudson’s Bay pemmican—the only solid thing about it. When a majority vote of the forty representatives resulted in the formation of the Provisional Government, Mr. Alfred Boyd the delegate from St. Andrew’s severed his connection with it, and thus, one might say, followed in the footsteps of Maurice Lowman, who was manager of a store at St. John’s owned by Mr. Boyd; and, Mr. Lowman it will be remembered was an ex-Portager and the gentleman who turned about and went home from the first Riel convention.

On the 10th February the three delegates to Ottawa were elected. They were: Judge Black, Pere Richot and Alfred H. Scott. Even though these delegates were nominees of Riel, the first-named was a man of such sterling character that all the settlers could place the fullest confidence in his representations, and knew that his standing would give him the preponderating influence in the representation.

It was no part of Riel’s policy to have the authorities at Ottawa fully informed of his doings, so the delegates were kept back till the 23rd March, during which interval the situation steadily grew worse. The prisoners were not liberated according to promise, but to give the colour of sincerity to his behaviour, Riel said he would liberate Governor McTavish, Dr. Cowan and Mr. Bannatyne. It was news to the settlers to hear that these gentlemen ever had been prisoners, except perhaps in the sense that they were keeping themselves within the bounds of Fort Garry in the hope that they might perchance keep him within the bounds of reason. At any rate, the public were informed that they were now free, and that the other prisoners also would soon be set at liberty, a promise he kept only when he had cause to fear the consequence of refusal.

The following comprised the Cabinet of the Provisional Government: President, Louis Riel; Secretary-Treasurer, W. B. O’Donohue; Secretary of State, Thos. Bunn; Chief Justice, James Ross; Assistant Secretary of State, Louis Schmidt.

Mention has already been made of the few settlers from Ontario who settled in Portage la Prairie early as the year 1862, and the few of their congeners who escaped the clutches of Riel at Winnipeg were glad to join them there in the winter of 1869-70; and they could not have selected a better place of refuge, for the Portage pioneers who had stayed with their little Settlement since its inception seventeen years before, could teach them something in the art of how to get along with Indians and Metis; and most likely the Canadians and the country generally derived far more benefit at this time of stress, than is generally supposed from the cousinly (Chiwamuk) relations that the Metis claimed with their English-speaking fellow countrymen which the latter far from repudiating had been wont to acknowledge with substantial tokens of good-will.

A safe place certainly was Portage la Prairie, but by no means the best for obtaining news of the doings in the Red River Settlement, for Riel knowing that the independent character of the Portagers constituted a grave menace to the solidarity of the “Pemmican Government,” caused a guard to be established at Lane’s Fort, White Horse Plains, so that communication between the Republic of Manitoba and that of the New Nation might be subject to his approval. His barricade was fairly effective as mother earth enveloped herself in an extremely thick blanket of snow in the winter of 1869-70, so that anyone who wanted to pass between the town of Portage la Prairie and the village of Winnipeg had either to procure a pass from Riel or make a long detour round Lane’s Fort through a covering of between three and four feet of snow.

For this reason concerted action between the eastern and western parishes was most difficult, and so it happened, that about the time Riel was believed by some to intend releasing his prisoners, a party was being organized in Portage who were to march down and compel him to release them. Of course, had they known what their friends in the vicinity of Fort Garry knew, they would at least have postponed their march, making it conditional upon the actions of Riel respecting the release of his prisoners.

A few writers have condemned Dr. Schultz and Major Boulton for the part they played in this rising of the English, calling it ill-timed, stupid, rash—one even going so far as to call it underhanded, as being in disregard of pledges given at the convention. If ill-timed, the barricade at Lane’s Fort in some measure explains that, as it prevented them from receiving tidings of Riel’s magnanimous release of Messrs. McTavish, Cowan and Bannatyne, and later of eight bona fide prisoners. The other charge—that of disregard of pledges—is also partly explained in the same way. But whose pledges did the Portage volunteers violate? Their representatives had joined the Provisional Government on the understanding that the prisoners would be released. Those prisoners needed to be released without delay. Some were ill when the promise was made, some never quite recovered from the effects of the barbarous treatment they received that winter. When brave men indignantly rushed to the rescue of prisoners perfidiously taken and more perfidiously held, it ill becomes any Britisher to speak of such as though there was any perfidy on their side.

Those brave men who at the head of the Portage volunteers made Riel keep his word for once and release the prisoners, are deserving of the highest praise; and our admiration for them defies criticism when we reflect that owing to their devotion to their country and their sympathy with brethren suffering wrongfully, they delivered those brethren from prison at the sacrifice of their own liberty. Of Major Boulton it can be said, that in the most difficult position in which he was left in this country he conducted himself in a manner deserving of the highest praise. He was left stranded in this country like a sort of Robinson Crusoe of the Canadian Government, faring, however, better than that ancient mariner, during the time that he was at Portage la Prairie, where he enjoyed the hospitality of Mr. and Mrs. George; and afterwards, when as guest of President Riel he had to fare on Hudson’s Bay pemmican, if his thoughts sometimes fondly reverted to the fine cooking of Mrs. George, so gracefully did he adapt himself to the changed conditions, that even Riel himself in conversation with Donald A. Smith was constrained to say in his praise: “He is a fine fellow.” The writer met Major Boulton just once at Mr. George’s, and later I met Riel just once at Fort Garry, and I have no hesitation in saying that of the two—the Major and the President—the former was much the finer fellow.

As to Dr. Schultz, his manner of opposing Riel on this and other occasions may justly be characterized as manly, heroic and loyal. Dr. Schultz was a courageous man who possessed in a large degree the spirit of adventure that has helped to make Britain, Great Britain. And when his services to the country of his adoption were regarded by his promotion to the Lieutenant Governorship of the Province of Manitoba, he was only receiving his just due, and was placed in a position which his tact, experience and wonderful personal magnetism enabled him to fill with great credit to himself and the satisfaction of Canadians in general.

When the Canadian ship of state put out from Pembina with the receding tide it left Major Boulton behind, stranded high and dry on the sands of Portage la Prairie, with a harder row to hoe than either Mr. D. A. Smith or Bishop Tache, because he was a full fledged Canadian and had to demonstrate to the people of this country the kind of stuff the Canadian Government and the Canadian people were made of. He too had his instructions with a particular emphasis placed on the injunction to do all in his power “to prevent the shedding of blood.” Now Major Boulton was a man of war from his youth, in fact, as a youth he had regretted that owing to not having been born soon enough, he had to wait some time before being able to serve Canada as a soldier; and now Canada had placed upon his shoulders the responsibility of fighting down the fighting spirit in others, and when he succeeded in doing so he was called a coward, and when he didn’t succeed he was called a rash blockhead.

Twice he succeeded in dissuading the Portage boys from starting off for Fort Garry to release the prisoners, but when Thomas Scott made his escape and arrived in Portage, enthusiasm over his prowess and the indignation aroused by the story of the prisoners’ sufferings, made it useless for him to longer oppose their wishes, so he decided to accompany them, whereupon they showed their appreciation of him and his military training by asking him to be their leader.

They left Portage la Prairie at one a.m. February the 12th, and arrived at Headingly at midnight. Their plan had been to attack at dawn, so as to take the Fort by surprise, but a blizzard springing up during the night, this plan was abandoned. The blizzard was a providential camouflage on their movements, and gave time for deliberation with little danger of intrusion.

A meeting was called at the house of Mr. John Taylor. There Major Boulton resigned the command of the expedition and recommended a re-election of officers. Before any motion was passed someone asked if “Major Boulton meant fight.” His answer was in effect that fighting would be the last resort, and that his object was to accomplish the object of the expedition without undue risk. He was then re-elected.

Good judgment was shown in the course decided upon at this meeting, and in the promptness in which action followed discussion. Two deputations at once left Headingly—one to visit the loyal French, the other to visit the northern English parishes. William Gaddy was sent to visit Dease and other Frenchmen to strengthen the old bonds that had been formed on the buffalo feeding grounds, when the English hunters of Portage la Prairie and the French of White Horse Plains had summer after summer formed one large encampment for their mutual protection against their common foe—the predatory Sioux, and more than once he had been chosen captain of the encampment—the French speaking of him after their polite fashion, as the bravest man on the plains. The other deputation consisted of John Taylor and another man. They met with great success, for the Red River settlers under the Hudson’s Bay regime had got into the habit—bad or otherwise—of releasing prisoners when in their judgment they were deserving of better treatment, and on that point there was no question in this case, so all they had to do was to repeat on a larger scale what they had done before—therefore they arose, assembled and marched together to Kildonan, the appointed rendezvous.

At eight o’clock on the evening of the 14th the party at Headingly started out, and passing Winnipeg during the night arrived in good time at Kildonan on the 15th, and there awaited the arrival of the reinforcements from the lower parishes.

Their arrival is thus described by Major Boulton: “It was a fine sight about three o’clock in the afternoon to see three or four hundred settlers marching up to our neighbourhood, headed by a small cannon drawn by four oxen, the whole under the leadership of Dr. Schultz, whose powerful figure stood out boldly as he led them up.”

The church and schoolhouse at Kildonan were converted into barracks, and the Scottish settlers gave substantial assistance in the commissariat department during the twenty-four or thirty hours that it took the valiant little army to complete its task.

Soon after the settlers from east and west had met, Tom Norquay of St. Andrew’s carried a mandate on their behalf to Riel, stating that unless he released the prisoners the next day (16th), mentioning the hour that was to be the limit—the fort would be attacked. As expected the prisoners were immediately released.

While this was occurring at Fort Garry, something tragic was taking place at Kildonan. A young Frenchman by the name of Parisien had been captured on suspicion of being a spy, and was being kept under a guard at the schoolhouse, when, watching his chance, he sprinted through the open door and seizing a double-barrel gun from a sleigh close by, made for the river. George Garrioch, brother of the writer, was the guard and described to me how he raised his gun and drew a bead on the flying Frenchman with his finger pressed dangerously on the trigger, while several voices shouted—“Shoot him! Shoot him!”—and how the moral aspect of the question just then intruded itself into his mind and he didn’t shoot him.

When the fleeing Frenchman had run a short distance along the river path, he met young Sutherland who was on horse-back. It is supposed that Parisien was mentally defective and he acted like it. He shot at the approaching rider, wounding him in the hand, and the startled horse, wheeling suddenly round, caused the now disabled rider to lose his seat and fall. As he was in the act of rising the second shot, fired at close range, penetrated his lung. Several men were now hot in pursuit of Parisien, among whom were two brothers of the name of Pochien, who belonged to High Bluff. Little men they were but regular warriors of the buffalo-hunting type. They were light of foot and sound in wind and limb, and once their blood was heated in the chase they were liable to revert to the primitive methods of warfare favoured by the Indians, and on this occasion they brought the Frenchman’s flight to a temporary finish by a slight tap on the head with the back of a tomahawk. His feet were then tied together with a sash, and another was passed round his neck, and they were on their way to the schoolhouse dragging their unfortunate victim head first like a toboggan when they were met by Major Boulton, who insisted—almost a little late—on his being treated more in accordance with the methods of civilized warfare. Sutherland lived only a few hours after being shot. He was a young man of promise, and was well known to the writer, as he lived at his father’s place only twenty rods distant from where I was boarding at the time. Parisien was placed in charge of a garrison of fifty men who were stationed in Lower Stone Fort for a short time. There he again made an attempt to escape and was fired at and wounded, which, together with the rough handling he had previously received, culminated in his death a short time afterwards; and so there was afforded some colour to the argument whereby Riel’s friends sought to palliate the crime of Scott’s murder, declaring that it was only on a par with the slaying of Parisien.

When Tom Norquay returned from Kildonan he carried with him this message from Riel:

“Fort Garry, Feb. 16th, 1870.

“Fellow Countrymen:

Mr. Norquay came this morning with a message, and even he has been delayed. He will reach you in time enough to tell you that for my part I understand that war, horrible civil war, is the destruction of this country; and Schultz will laugh at us, if after all he escapes. We are ready to meet any party, but peace, our British rights we want above all. Gentlemen, the prisoners are out, they have sworn to keep peace. We have taken the responsibility of our past acts. Mr. William McTavish has asked you for the sake of God to form and complete the Provisional Government. Your representatives have joined us on that ground. Who will now come and destroy Red River Settlement?—Louis Riel.”

Note the funny question and answer contained in the concluding sentence. Note also the involuntary compliment to the terrible doctor, the thought of whose laughter was something too horrible to contemplate.

After receiving Mr. Norquay’s report, the Canadian and English volunteers decided they might just as well finish the cleaning up at Fort Garry while they were about it; but while preparations to this end were being made, counter-influences were busily at work. D. A. Smith and the other Canadian commissioners assisted by some of the leading clergy and citizens, threw in the weight of their combined influence, declaring that such a move would be most hazardous. Thus advised and discouraged, the brave volunteers abandoned the undertaking, and the same evening, February 16th, dispersed, leaving the church and schoolhouse of Kildonan to be restored to their legitimate uses.

In order to persuade the volunteers to disband, the assurance had been given by Riel, that if they would disperse peaceably to their homes he would make no attempt to molest them. Major Boulton and others attached very little importance to this promise, and the Major advised the members of his contingent to break up into small detachments, as the surest way of avoiding capture while attempting the return to Portage. The following were wise enough to take his advice: John Cameron and W. B. Hall of Headingly, and Chas. Mair, Francis Ogletree, Geo. Garrioch and Martin Burnell of Portage la Prairie, all of whom succeeded in reaching their destinations in safety. The others stayed together, being considerably influenced in their decision to do so by the following remark of a retired Sergeant-Major of the British army: “We came down together like brave men, and we ought to go back in the same manner.” With this party of forty-seven Major Boulton manfully threw in his lot, and in the crisis that was very soon reached it was probably due to his courage and calmness that a conflict was averted in which they were almost sure to have suffered disastrous defeat.

The Portage party passed the night of the 16th at St. John’s in the store of Mr. Alfred Boyd, the English gentleman who withdrew from the Anglo-French convention in becoming disgust. Starting out next morning they made a detour to the right, and when about opposite the fort they noticed a party of horsemen leave it and ride in their direction rapidly as the depth of snow would permit. As they approached, Major Boulton solemnly charged his men not to provoke a conflict, but, if attacked to put up a fight that would do them credit.

The French party was led by Lepine and O’Donohue who rode close up and demanded their surrender. Major Boulton gave the command to his men to do so; but some of them were most reluctant to lay down their arms, one of them—a fine stalwart Scotsman, Murdoch McLeod—gave General Lepine quite a tussle before he would part with his pistol, which he at length resigned at the command of his leader. O’Donohue would seem to have been man enough to feel some shame over this business, claiming that when he had been ordered to assist in the capture of the party he was not aware that the promise of non-molestation had been made them if they would peaceably return to their homes. That man is taken by most writers for a black sheep; but I shouldn’t wonder if after all he was mostly a scape-goat, who in the end butted his friends for turning out not sufficiently grateful for services rendered.

The Portage volunteers having surrendered they were marched to the fort and imprisoned in the same quarters where only the day before had been incarcerated the men whose release they had been instrumental in securing. Truly it was an uncommon exchange of prisoners. “The New Nation” next day facetiously described the occurrence in an article headed—“The Portage Volunteers Gobbled Up.”

Up to this time the writer had never seen Riel, and was not particularly desirous of doing so; but when my brother called on me after the capture of the Portage volunteers, and we discussed his chances of getting safely back to Portage, it was decided that I should procure a pass from Riel so as to save him the trouble of a long wade around White Horse Plains.

It was on a beautiful afternoon on the 19th February, two days after the capture of my unfortunate fellow-citizens that I had the temerity to call on the President. Fortune favoured me to the extent that as I walked along, I was overtaken by Mr. William Fraser, the delegate from Kildonan to the Provisional Government. He was driving, and as I discovered on accepting his invitation to a seat in his cariole, he also was on his way to Fort Garry. As I looked up to Mr. Fraser, for he was a big man, and blessed with a smile that never quite left his face, I felt that I too was blessed. As we entered the fort it looked forsaken for there was no one in sight; but when we entered Riel’s quarters all this was changed. It is said that he was haunted with a fear of assassination, and he had his guard stationed so that his audience chamber would not be too easy of access.

On being introduced to Riel by Mr. Fraser he gave me a quick nod, and a glance intended to be piercing. A frown that never left his face would have conveyed an unfavourable impression of the man even to a well-disposed observer. Through the interview he gave me the impression that he had a profound sense of his own importance and responsibility, and that it made him feel nervous and uncomfortable. I gauged his height to be about five feet six inches. His complexion was rather dark, and his eyebrows bushy and prominent. He had a receding but intellectual forehead, which was overtopped by a thick mass of jet black hair worn a la Paderewski. He was well knit and of ordinary stoutness, and his appearance, on the whole was uncommon, and probably was attractive in a way, when as a freighter, he accompanied his Red River carts between St. Cloud and Fort Garry. Hardly were we seated when he began to deplore the unhappy situation in the Settlement, which he claimed was largely to be attributed to the stand taken by the English who he said had not honoured the pledges given by their delegates at the convention of February 5th when the bill of rights was passed, and again on the 9th when the Provisional Government was formed. From this view Mr. Fraser dissented, reminding him that the real object of the English in sending delegates to the convention was to come to an amicable understanding with the French that might easily be followed by a peaceful understanding with the Canadian Government, and that therefore the delegates had no authority to constitute themselves into a legislative body, without at least receiving special instructions to that effect from their constituencies. Mr. Fraser’s statements were correct, and the writer was aware that the English constituencies took a similar view of the matter; but Riel argued with considerable logic that Mr. Fraser’s position was untenable and that the English parishes were bound to consent without conditions to any resolution that had passed at the convention. Twice over he said he was sure Mr. Smith would agree with him. Then he proposed to send for Mr. Smith, and forthwith he did so. During the five minutes that elapsed before Mr. Smith entered the room he pretty well monopolized the conversation. He was unquestionably a fluent speaker and clever controversialist, and no man in the Settlement in his day was better qualified to adorn a stump in addressing a mixed crowd in either French or English. For the benefit of my companion and perhaps of myself, he was just concluding the following lament as Mr. Smith entered the room: “We must all admit that the affairs of this country are in a deplorable condition; but if the people could only be made to see it, the remedy is in their own hands. No one can deplore the situation more than I do! But these English! Oh these English! How can they be so stupid? How is it that they cannot understand? Oh, what would I not give to see peace, security and prosperity restored to this country!”

On entering Mr. Smith took a seat in a remote corner, about as far from Riel as he could get; and perhaps it was intended for an explanation for doing so and for the frown on his face that he complained of a headache. Soon as he was seated Riel told him of the difference of opinion between Mr. Fraser and himself as to the character of the English representation at the convention of February 5th, and he was asked if he would mind stating his views on the matter. He answered: “I was under the impression that it was a bona fide representation.” It was a diplomatic answer, and Riel would evidently have been pleased had Mr. Smith offered some elucidation of his meaning, but talk as he pleased, he got no more out of Mr. Smith except practically the same remark: “I supposed that it was a bona fide representation.”

The political discussion being apparently ended, I relieved myself of the following courteous little speech which I had all ready by the time Mr. Fraser picked me up on the road: “Mr. President, I have a brother residing in the Settlement who is desirous of paying Portage la Prairie a visit, and he has requested me to procure a pass from you to enable him to do so.” Quick as a flash came the answer—“Certainly I shall be most happy to hand him a pass, but tell your brother for me that I should very much like to see him before he leaves.” Need it be said George Garrioch avoided President Riel, preferring to reach home by making a wide detour over the trackless prairie.

Once Riel got the substitute prisoners safely into his power, it would seem that he immediately decided on a speedy and terrible revenge for the humiliation he had suffered at their hands, for only fifteen minutes after imprisonment Major Boulton bound hand and foot lay in a room in the Hudson’s Bay quarters, and later in the day, Riel thrust in his head at the door and said, “Major Boulton, prepare to die at twelve o’clock tomorrow.” People had by this time ceased to believe Riel; but when it was rumoured that he or one of his lieutenants had been heard to make the remark,—“We shall have to shoot two or three of these English in order to scare the rest,” and next it was given out that Major Boulton was to be shot for treason, it was felt that Riel was only too liable to keep his word in this instance, and efforts were at once set on foot in the hope of preventing crime before he had too awfully proved that he could be truthful sometimes. At first he turned a deaf ear to all entreaties and remonstrances and would go no further than to extend the time of execution to twelve hours later, however, two hours before the extra time had expired he had secured the consent of Mr. D. A. Smith to the following proposal, viz.:—A reprieve of one week was to be granted Major Boulton, during which time Mr. Smith and Archdeacon McLean were to make a canvass of the English parishes with the view of persuading them to send bona fide representatives to a convention, at which the decisions reached at the previous meetings of the forty representatives would be confirmed, especially with respect to the status of the Provisional Government and the sending of delegates to Ottawa. As the Major’s life depended upon the canvass, it may well be supposed that the consent of the parishes was secured without much strain on the sagacity of Mr. Smith or the eloquence of the Archdeacon.

Perhaps though, the real reason why the sword suspended over Major Boulton never fell, or rather fell on somebody else, was due to the strange occurrences in his cell during the first two nights of his incarceration. On the morning of the first his jailer was found to be in a state of lunacy, and on the morning of the second, the new jailer who was six feet two inches in height was found to have died during the night. The Metis are extraordinarily superstitious, and after the second night no guard stayed in the Major’s room. Most likely there would be considerable excitement and a feeling that it was going to go hard with anyone who attempted to hurt Major Boulton.

When Mr. Smith and the Archdeacon reached St. Andrew’s they found the settlers in mass meeting, assembled to discuss the question of liberating the Portage volunteers. They had quite agreed that it had to be done, and were arranging some of the details, when the deputation from the Church and State arrived and spoiled it all. Once more the cleaning up of Fort Garry had to be abandoned, for the clergy almost without exception advised the settlers to do all that was possible to avoid a recourse to arms.

On the 19th February, Riel sent men to the Lower Settlement with orders to capture Dr. Schultz dead or alive; but his men who probably fully realized the perilous character of their mission, were unsuccessful, although he could not have been far away since he attended the mass meeting that was held on the day following. After the change of plan decided on at the forenamed meeting, Dr. Schultz decided to leave the country, in doing which he showed that he could be prudent as well as courageous. He left on the 21st February on his famous snow-shoe trip in company with Joseph Monkman, going via Lake Winnipeg, Lake of the Woods, Rainy Lake and Lake Superior. The day after his departure Riel, who doubtless supposed him to be still in the country, headed a mounted party and rode down the Settlement in search of him. Returning unsuccessful from this expedition and perhaps chafing from a sense of failure, he was ready as ever to vent his spleen upon any unfortunate mortal whom he might regard as failing to treat him with the respect due to one occupying the exalted position of President of the Provisional Government.

Among the prisoners was one Thomas Scott, who was evidently singled out by Riel as the most serious offender in this respect. From various sources both written and verbal the writer believes that Riel hated and feared Scott, and at least in regard to the feeling of dislike it is supposed the feeling was reciprocal. It has been said of Scott that he was imprudently outspoken, and that he angered his guards by rough and uncivil behaviour on various occasions. Allow such to have been the case if it must be mentioned in connection with his untimely death, it should be chiefly to teach a lesson of the value of prudence, civility and self-command, and not as though it lessened one iota the vile character of Riel’s deed, in that he dared to arrogate to himself the positions of both ruler and judge and to immolate a human victim on the altar of his inflated vanity and fiendish hate.

People were astounded when the news of Scott’s death got beyond the walls of the fort, for in this case Riel had worked more silently in order to prevent another miscarriage of injustice. These are some of the remarks that followed upon the first reports of the crime—“He surely would not be such a fool.” “He cannot be such a devil.” “He must be a madman.” “Do you think that any man in his senses would do such a thing?”

It certainly was a vile and blood-thirsty deed. Major Boulton, Donald A. Smith and one or two others who knew that Scott had been subjected to a mock trial and sentenced to death, endeavoured to dissuade Riel from his awful purpose, but without success. The latter told him it was a most imprudent act for his own sake, as he might know from history that the person who took the life of a British subject, England would follow to the remotest parts of the earth and bring him sooner or later to the bar of justice; and to the pleadings of the latter Riel replied: “I have done two good things since I commenced. I have spared Boulton’s life at your instance, I pardoned Gaddy, and now I shall shoot Scott.”

In regard to Gaddy it might be stated that he never became aware that he was indebted to Riel for pardon or leniency in any form, and that if he was not frozen, drugged or shot in the bastion in which he was confined, it was not due to the kind intentions of Riel, but to the fact that he was a man greatly beloved by the Metis, for like them he was a born gentleman, and he excelled them all in this—that after he had his glass of Hudson’s Bay rum he was even more of a gentleman than before, and he learned from conversations overheard outside the bastion—perhaps purposely loud enough to be overheard—that the speakers were in distress because while they were under orders to put him out of the way, their feelings revolted against a deed so foul, for they could not forget the time when their good friend now in the bastion was a free man among the free on the buffalo hunting-grounds in the days of “Auld Lang Syne”; so likely in their love for him they left open a way of escape that he was not slow to make use of.

Scott was shot shortly after twelve o’clock noon. His head was tied with a handkerchief so as to partly conceal his face. Accompanied by about twenty guards he was permitted to say good-bye at the door of Major Boulton’s room, and at the doors of the rooms in which the other prisoners were confined. To the first he said “Good-bye, Major”; to the others, “Good-bye, boys.” “We watched his departure there,” writes the Major, “and listened to his receding footsteps, and in fifteen minutes we heard the fatal shots fired from beneath the walls of the fort.”

John Bruce, at first President of the Provisional Government, and who gradually dropped out and forsook the rebel cause, was one of the witnesses called upon to testify at an investigation respecting the death of Scott, and taking his evidence along with that given by others the following may be taken as an authentic account of the shooting: Scott, as desired by Mr. Young, took a kneeling position, and when the firing party of six had fired together at a given signal, he fell on his side but was evidently still living. It is said the men were too drunk to know exactly what they were doing, and one of them seeing the body quiver, went up, and with a revolver shot Scott in the head. A rude box was then brought and into this Scott, still breathing, was placed, and carried into the fort. At about six o’clock in the evening he was still living, and was distinctly heard to say, “For God’s sake take me out of here or kill me,” and at eleven o’clock he was still living and speaking. To use Bruce’s own words, “After ten and a half hours of frightful agony, a person whose name I shall withhold for the present, went into the bastion, and according to some gave him the finishing stroke with a butcher’s knife, with a pistol according to others.”

This infamous deed was not reported in the “New Nation.” Various rumours were soon afoot as to the disposal of Scott’s body. A grave had been dug within the fort, and the box which the people were expected to believe still contained the body of Scott, was buried there, but immediately speculation commenced as to whether the body dead or alive, might not be somewhere else, and then someone guessed—if it was a guess—that the body was clandestinely removed from the box and sunk through a hole in the ice of the Red River somewhere between the fort and St. Boniface; and later when the fort had at length been cleansed of Riel; and the so-called Scott’s grave was opened, the box truly was there, but when opened was found to contain nothing.

After the murder of Scott the English settlers felt such an aversion towards Riel and his doings that they would gladly have left him severely alone had it suited him to act so towards them; but probably realizing how he had hazarded his own neck, he seemed as anxious as ever to have their support; and so, as far as was compatible with self-respect, they took an unwilling part in the Provisional Government, choosing what they regarded as the more bloodless way of influencing the actions of Louis Riel while they fondly anticipated the day when a little British force would appear before the gates of Fort Garry, and the glory of Riel and his “Pemmican Government” would burst in the air like a soap bubble, or as the Indians put it—“pass away like the morning mists before the rising sun.”

On the 9th March Bishop Tache arrived at St. Boniface—five days too late to prevent the murder of Thomas Scott. No doubt had it been given to this benevolent prelate to foresee what was going to happen, he would have remained at home, if free to do so, and would have left it to others to deal with the question of the Pope’s infallibility while he devoted his own attention to questions having a more practical bearing on the temporal and spiritual welfare of his poor sheep in the wilderness.

He met the English and French delegates in convention on March the 15th, when he made a speech in which he expressed the highest esteem for all the people in the Settlement without distinction of race, creed or language, and affirmed that it was his sincere desire to benefit all equally to the full extent of his ability. Sitting down, he again stood up and said: “An inspiration occurs to me. I would ask the President as an act of grace for the release of half of the prisoners.” To this Riel consented, and fifteen prisoners including Major Boulton, were released on the following day; and the others, two or three at a time, were set free by March 24th. The Provisional Government continued its sessions till March 26th, and was then prorogued for one month.

The delegates to Ottawa left on the 24th March reaching there on April 11th. Rev. Pere Richot and A. Scott were at once arrested on a charge of murder, and after certain formalities of trial and exoneration were gone through, were declared legally qualified to act as delegates.

As may be supposed when tidings of the murder of Scott reached Ottawa a wave of indignation swept over the country, and it is hard to say what would have happened, had the Government not provided a safety-valve for the over-wrought feelings of the people, by at once setting about preparations to send an armed force to the Red River Settlement.

The delegates returned from Ottawa on the 17th June, and a special session of the Provisional Government was called to hear their report; but the English members who knew that troops were on their way, and also knew pretty well what the delegates had to tell, felt that the time had at length arrived when they could consult their own inclinations, and they took this opportunity of treating Riel and his councillors with the contempt they so richly merited, and the only three who attended were A. G. B. Bannatyne, Thos. Bunn and James McKay.

From this out, quiet and a sense of security rapidly returned. The “Pemmican Government” was rapidly declining and its fall was not to be averted. Once more the Hudson’s Bay Company began to do business. The Metis garrison was reduced to an insignificant number; and during the months of July and August time must have hung so heavily on Riel’s hands, that the arrival of General Wolseley with the British and Canadian troops on a certain rainy day in the latter month, must have appeared to him almost in the nature of a welcome diversion, even if it did necessitate his leaving his breakfast unfinished while he sought safety in ignominious flight.

The following was the arrangement between the Imperial and Colonial Governments respecting the military force to be sent to the Red River Settlement to remove obstructions that had hindered the Transfer: First, simultaneously with the movement of the troops the £300,000 was to be paid to the Hudson’s Bay Company, whereupon a proclamation of the Transfer was to be issued. Secondly, it was stipulated that reasonable treatment was to be meted out to the Red River settlers. On the foregoing understanding the Imperial Government contributed two hundred and fifty regulars sent at their expense; and the Canadian Government provided five hundred trained men. The westward movement of the troops commenced on the sixth of May, and the £300,000 was turned over to the Hudson’s Bay Company on the eleventh.

The distance from Toronto to Fort Garry by the road the troops travelled is one thousand, one hundred and forty-six miles. They left Collingwood, May 21st, 1870, and touched at Fort William and Shebandowan Lake, and so down the Winnipeg River, arriving at Fort Garry on the 24th August,—ninety-five days after leaving Collingwood, having made the creditable daily average of about eleven miles. Owing to the watery character of the route they had a rather amphibious existence, and from frequently carrying packages on their backs their shirts gave way and had to be patched, the material used being the canvas of their empty provision sacks. This gave them such a motley appearance as to suggest to some wag of the party the name of “Canvas-back Ducks,” a name which stuck for the balance of the journey and was bandied at one another on many occasions.

It was in the midst of an all day steady rain that they arrived at St. John’s, and as we gazed at them briskly pulling up the Red River, so glad were we to see them, that had they been clad in their canvas-back shirts instead of their proper uniform, they would have looked equally fine to us, and been none the less welcome to our longing eyes. They disembarked at Point Douglas when a few men at once went forward in extended order, while the rest rapidly forming in columns of four went forward on the quick march. They made a detour to the right, approaching the fort at an angle of about seventy to Main Street. When the troops disembarked there were hardly any citizens present. I cannot remember any except Colin Inkster—now Sheriff—and John McTavish and Joe Hargrave. We walked up through the village along Main Street, keeping behind and then abreast of the troops, so that we reached the east gate of the fort as they reached the one at the west. About ten minutes after entering the troops emerged from the gate where two or three of us were standing. The Union Jack had been hoisted, and the band now struck up the National Anthem after which we joined with all the lung power we possessed in giving three cheers for the Queen, thereby expressing our entire satisfaction at the decline and fall of the “Pemmican Government.”

If the advice of the Colonial Secretary, Earl Granville, had been taken, the Red River Settlement would have been presided over by a military Governor for at least one year after the Transfer, in which case no doubt the Imperial Government would very soon have put Canada in peaceable possession of the Settlement. Colonel Wolseley, it is believed would have been the first Lieutenant-Governor, and the regulars would have remained for a year, instead of being withdrawn in a few days because there was at the time no visible opposition to the authority of the Queen; then most likely Canada would not have had to secure peace for the time being at the cost of a war in the future.

In a proclamation issued by Colonel Wolseley he made it clear to the settlers “that the sole object of his mission was to secure Her Majesty’s authority in the country,” so when any disappointed Loyalist asked him why he had not attempted to capture Riel, Lepine and O’Donohue as they were still in sight when he entered the fort, he only had to remind them of what they were told in his proclamation. True, in that proclamation there had at first been a clause in which it was stated that “courts of law would be established in the country in which strict justice would be meted out to all alike,” but his superior officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Lindsay advised the elimination of that clause, saying that “the civil authorities would be quite competent to administer the judicial affairs of the country.” Of course, in the above remark no reference was made to the civil or uncivil authorities of the Provisional Government. Indeed Colonel Wolseley had well done his part in clearing the co-called Government out of the way as the real obstruction to the administration of the judicial affairs of the country, and again when he placed the reins of Government once more in the hands of the Hudson’s Bay Company from whom they had been so easily wrested, making D. A. Smith acting Governor on behalf of the company—and Mr. Smith by accepting that position became responsible for the administration of the judicial affairs of the country; and the advocates of justice brought that fact home to his mind so forcibly that during the nine-day interregnum that the arrival of Governor Archibald was awaited, he had yielded to pressure and allowed warrants to be issued for the arrest of Riel, Lepine and O’Donohue; and thus when Governor Archibald became Governor of the country, there were these outstanding, unserved warrants to show him that while an amnesty to a deluded people might be approved and be justifiable, there was in the land a righteous sense of justice that would not tolerate the condoning of the crime of a Barabbas.

The situation in the Settlement that confronted the Honourable Adams G. Archibald certainly called for statesmanship of a high order, and it is usually admitted that he measured well up to the standard, and that in carrying out the policy of conciliation adopted by the Government to which he owed his appointment, he ever sought to show himself impartial, and that he was fairly successful is supposed to be shown in the fact that each of the two races with whom he had to do blamed him for partiality to the other. Only a few days after his arrival he set on foot the preliminaries necessary to the formation of a representative and responsible Government. He appointed two members of the Executive Committee, viz., Alfred Boyd to the position of Provincial Secretary; and M. A. Girard to that of Provincial Treasurer; and at the same time the taking of a census was commenced, so that the Settlement might be formed into proper electoral districts, preparatory to an election of representatives to the parliament of the new Province about to be formed.

While this good beginning was being made in the interests of peace, an event occurred which carried people’s thoughts back to the disquieting days through which they had just passed. On the 13th September, only eleven days after Governor Archibald’s arrival, one Elzear Goulet fleeing from some of the Canadian volunteers was drowned in the Red River. Of the Canadian Volunteers the writer can say with pleasure, that they enjoyed the reputation among the English-speaking settlers of being a fine lot of men in every sense of the word. But, of course, there were exceptions, and when such came in contact with the Metis at the Red Saloon or some other drinking place in the village they were liable to confuse the drinking bar with the bar of justice, and when they remembered that the men they had come to the country to have brought to justice, were still at liberty, while the warrants for their arrest lay useless in the pockets of the constables, one cannot but make some allowance for their indignation. Unfortunately for Elzear Goulet he was one day recognized by an ex-prisoner of Riel, and pointed out to his companions as one of the men who had taken part in the court martialing of Scott, and later had aggravated the sufferings of the wounded man by inflicting another non-fatal wound on his head and face with a pistol. It is not strange that under the circumstances, they failed to hold themselves in check, and edging up to Goulet with looks not indicative of good intentions towards himself, caused him to seek safety in flight. The Volunteers pursued him, and hard pressed he plunged into the Red River, and in the attempt to reach the opposite shore he was drowned. Somehow the place and manner of his death gave assurance to the claim that Scott’s body had been sunk in the river, some even going so far as to speculate as to whether Goulet had not disappeared at the identical spot where the body of the former had been let through the ice. There was no regular coroner in the Settlement, but Governor Archibald caused a thorough investigation of the matter to be made before the Magistrates Messrs. Robert McBeath and Solomon Hamelin, the case being conducted by Mr. H. J. G. McConville, a lawyer lately arrived from Montreal. The responsibility for Goulet’s death was traced home to three of the Volunteers, but owing to the excitement connected with the occurrence it was considered wise to let the matter rest for a time, and it is resting still.

The drowning accident, to call it by a gentle name, made the arrest of the slayers of Scott a good deal harder than ever, for it was felt that strict justice now demanded six arrests instead of three, and although the charge against one trio might be a good deal lighter than that against the other, it suited some parties to say that it would be as well to regard the one as a set-off against the other, a view of the matter which certainly would have helped to make feasible the granting of an amnesty as promised by Sir John A. Macdonald in his letter of instruction to Bishop Tache. The following extract from the said letter will show the nature of the amnesty promised: “Should the question arise as to the consumption of any goods or stores belonging to the Hudson’s Bay Company, by the insurgents, you are authorized to inform the leaders that if the Company’s Government is restored, not only will there be general amnesty granted, but in case the company should claim the payment for such stores that the Canadian Government will stand between the insurgents and all harm.”

Some of the settlers had been wont to say uncomplimentary things about the administration of justice under the Hudson’s Bay regime; but about this time they began to think there was not much choice between its methods and those of the Canadian Government.

The Metis, as may be supposed, were much excited over the Goulet drowning affair, and a meeting was held at Riviere Salle at which Riel, Lepine, O’Donohue and about forty others were present. According to a statement by O’Donohue, it was in reality a meeting of the Provisional Government as constituted before it was joined by English delegates. One of the resolutions passed at the meeting was to the effect that any attempt to arrest the three above-named principals of that Government would be resisted with armed force by the French. During the winter 1870-71 similar meetings were held in other French parishes, and it became pretty clear that so long as the amnesty question was not settled so as to keep both the French and the Orangemen quiet, there would be no likelihood of prosperity and quietness in the Settlement.

On May 1st, 1871, the Canadian Militia commenced their return to Ontario, only eight of them remaining for the purpose of strengthening the police force. Five days before the Volunteers left, settlers from Ontario commenced to arrive, and by the 12th July the Orangemen in the country were numerous and strong enough to venture a celebration. The speeches if not altogether to be compared to the “excellent oil that does not break the head,” perhaps acted as a useful tonic on the super-sensitive stomachs of those holding different views from their own.

On October 5th, 1871, there occurred the Fenian raid at Pembina. Probably it was not unexpected by either the Government or the Metis; but many in the Settlement got their first intimation from the Governor’s proclamation of October 3rd, in which Her Gracious Majesty called on all her loving subjects irrespective of race or religion, or of past local differences to rally round the flag of their common country, and at once enrol and support the Government in its resolve to expel the invaders. At once nine hundred Canadian and English responded; but from the French nothing definite was heard until the 8th, and then a message was sent to the Governor informing him that two hundred Metis were assembled at St. Boniface desiring to aid in the defence of the country. On hearing this the Governor went over in company with Mr. Royal and was there introduced to Messrs. Riel and Lepine; and there he shook hands with them and thanked them for their loyal stand. Three days before this meeting at St. Boniface, this is what occurred at Pembina. There the United States Government had done a friendly and honourable thing. At the proper time, that is to say, just as the Fenians had crossed over into British territory and had seized the Hudson’s Bay Company Post, a small body of American troops under Colonel Wheaton, raided the raiders, and captured the ring-leaders and a few others, all of whom were shortly after liberated; and so ended the raid. The question has been asked, did Governor Archibald and Riel know when they met on that 8th day of October that the raid had ended? It is suspected by some that they did, as Pembina is only a war-day’s ride from Fort Garry, and three days had elapsed between Colonel Wheaton’s exploit at Pembina and the hand-shaking at St. Boniface. One’s opinion of what one or both of these gentlemen knew of the matter as they shook hands, is necessarily affected by the challenge of O’Donohue—the man whose veracity was quite as unimpeachable as that of Riel—the man who helped others so assiduously to roast chestnuts and finally got cross because they all went to somebody else—the man who being a Fenian was liable to be regarded as a kickable subject by all loyal citizens. This man stated in a letter to the speaker of the House of Commons that the so-called Fenian raid was a misnomer, that it was simply a continuance of the Red River Rebellion, and that it was planned at the meeting at La Riviere Salle on September 17th, 1870, at which both Riel and Lepine were present, and that as secretary of the Provisional Government he was prepared to furnish the documentary evidence if desired. The hand shaking at St. Boniface was severely criticised, as it was considered that Riel’s loyalty was too belated to entitle him to any such mark of favour from the representative of his sovereign, who by this action was suspected of deliberately smoothing the way for an amnesty that would include the leaders of the rebellion, and, in truth, it was agreed later that acceptance of their services in defence of the country was of the nature of a pardon, an argument which no doubt, carried some weight when in 1875 a partial amnesty was granted to Riel and Lepine.

Shortly after the apparent reconciliation at St. Boniface a rumour reached Ottawa that Riel was the prospective candidate to stand for election for Provencher to the Federal Parliament, at the forthcoming general election of 1872. Foreseeing that this would greatly aggravate existing troubles, Sir John A. Macdonald entered afresh into negotiations with Bishop Tache, with a view to his using his influence to prevent such an occurrence. As it happened His Lordship was in Eastern Canada at the time of the Fenian raid, having left the Settlement on the 23rd September. Before his return, several interviews took place between him and the prime minister, and he was asked to use his influence to induce Riel to leave the country, a request that he finally complied with on the condition that something be given Riel as he was a poor man and had to support a mother and three sisters. Sir John consented to this and shortly after sent him a draft for one thousand dollars.

Riel being thus encouraged soon after discussed with Bishop Tache the higher figure that he thought the Federal Government should be prepared to pay if he put himself to the hardship of abstaining from politics for some time longer. Before he could get this matter settled to his satisfaction, the news came of the accession to power in the Province of Ontario of the Liberals under the leadership of Edward Blake, and two months later there followed the further news that an appropriation of five thousand dollars had been voted as a reward for the capture of the murderers of Thomas Scott, and that in addition to this the county of Middlesex offered a reward for the same purpose. This would seem to have convinced Riel that if he was wanted down there at all, it was in a capacity different from what he had contemplated, so he decided to leave the country while the going was good; but he did not go empty—he was paid by the Canadian Government, three thousand dollars on the understanding that he was not to return within a year. The money was borrowed from Mr. D. A. Smith and afterwards repaid by Governor Archibald. Ex-president Riel being thus excluded pro tem from the chance of parliamentary honours, resigned his candidacy of Provencher in favour of Sir George E. Cartier.

And in the meantime the Manitoba Legislature had been a whole year in existence, had enacted much useful legislation and demonstrated its vertebrate qualities by supporting a judiciary that not only dared to issue warrants but to serve them also, and deal out even-handed justice to all.

As if to teach the French what was to be expected under the new order of things, after the raid of October 5th three Frenchmen were arrested who had been mixed up in the attack on the Hudson’s Bay Post at Pembina. They were brought to trial at the quarterly court held at Fort Garry on the 17th November. Judge Johnson presided. In the case of one the evidence was inadequate. In the case of another there was a disagreement of the jury. The third was found guilty and sentenced to be hung on the 24th February, 1872. He was, however, pardoned.

When the news of the Fenian raid reached Eastern Canada, the Federal authorities doubtless felt that in leaving Fort Garry to be garrisoned by only two companies of volunteers who were also to assist in policing a scattered district of twelve thousand inhabitants, they had again been walking on thin ice and over-straining their political economy, so an order-in-council was at once passed for two hundred men to be sent to Fort Garry, an order that was executed with such creditable dispatch that in nine days that number of picked men, under the leadership of Lieutenant-Colonel Osborne Smith, were concentrated at Collingwood, whence they embarked on the 21st October. By the twelfth of November they had reached within twelve miles of the north-west angle of the Lake of the Woods. At that point they were frozen in and had to make the rest of the way on snow and ice. They reached Fort Garry on the 18th November, only twenty-eight days after leaving Collingwood—three days after the trial of the three Frenchmen of whom one was sentenced to be hung—so with that sentence to think over and the military feat of the two hundred volunteers, the Metis had good cause to think with respect of the law of the land and the quality of the men who were present to enforce it; and, on the whole, it may be said that, beginning with 1872, the sense of security that had so often been seriously disturbed since the autumn of 1869, now returned with every indication that it had come to stay.

The taking of the census of the Province was commenced on the 27th October and completed in the following month. It showed that the population on 16th July, that is the day following the formal entry of the Province into the Dominion, was eleven thousand, nine hundred and sixty-three of whom six thousand, two hundred and forty-seven were Roman Catholic and five thousand, seven hundred and sixteen were Protestant. Should Christians in the years to come succeed in living up to what their name implies so that no such classification as the above shall be necessary, they will thereby have rendered the work of the ecclesiastical as well as the civil Government much easier and more pleasant than can possibly be under existing conditions.

The Red River delegates reached Ottawa April 11th, 1870, and on May 2nd after three weeks in which to study over the “Bill of Rights,” Sir John A. Macdonald introduced the Manitoba Act in the Dominion House. As to how far the Bill of Rights and the delegates may have exerted an influence in its composition it is not easy to say, but it must be conceded by all that its provisions were most generous; and when a few months later a census had been taken, making it practicable to comply with these provisions, the Government at once proceeded to do so.

As to the boundaries of the twenty-four constituencies into which the province was divided it may be said that it was likely in the interest of the country at the time and most conducive to harmonious elections, that in as many as possible either the English or the French should be in numerical preponderance, and fortunately the character of settlement did not lend itself readily to any other method of division. The election to the first Parliament was held on the 30th December, 1870. For results I copy from Gunn and Little, page 467.

“The following is a return of the members elected. Those marked 1, were returned by acclamation:

Baie St. Paul—J. Dubuc, 1.

Headingly—J. Taylor.

High Bluff—J. Norquay, 1.

Kildonan—J. Sutherland.

Lake Manitoba—A. McKay, 1.

Poplar Point—D. Spence.

Portage la Prairie—F. O. Bird.

St. Agathe—Geo. Klyne.

St. Andrew’s, N.—A. Boyd.

St. Andrew’s, S.—E. H. G. G. Hay.

St. Anne—J. McTavish, 1.

St. Boniface, E.—M. A. Girard, 1.

St. Boniface—W. L. Schmidt, 1.

St. Charles—H. J. Clarke, 1.

St. Clements—Thomas Bunn.

St. Francois Xavier, E.—P. Breland.

St. Francois Xavier, W.—J. Royal, 1.

St. James—E. Burk.

St. Norbert, N.—J. Lemay.

St. Norbert, S.—P. Delorme, 1.

St. Paul—Dr. Bird.

St. Peter’s—Thos. Howard.

St. Vital—A. Beauchemin, 1.

Winnipeg—D. A. Smith.

“The Legislative Council was appointed 15th March, 1871, when the following gentlemen were called to that body:

Hon. F. Dauphinais.	Hon. J. H. O’Donnell.
Hon. Donald Gunn.	Hon. Francis Ogletree.
Hon. Solomon Hamelin.	Hon. James McKay, Speaker.
Hon. Colin Inkster.

“The Executive Council was appointed on the 10th January, 1871, when the following gentlemen accepted office:

Hon. Mark Amable Girard—Treasurer.

Hon. Thos. Howard—Provincial Secretary.

Hon. Henry James Clarke, Q.C.—Attorney-General.

Hon. Alfred Boyd—Minister Public Works and Agriculture.

Hon. Jas. McKay—Without Office.”

Of the twenty-four members who constituted the first Legislative Assembly, nine had been delegates to the Provisional Government, viz.: Thos. Bunn, Dr. Bird, Alfred Boyd, John Sutherland, David Spence, A. Beauchemin, P. Delorme, Geo. Klyne and Lewis Schmidt. The first five were English and the others French. Of the twenty-four members of Parliament all but five were residents of the country previous to the Transfer. The five new-timers were: J. Dubuc, M. A. Girard, H. J. Clarke, W. J. Royal and Thomas Howard. Of the ten constituencies that elected their member by acclamation, High Bluff alone was English. Without attempting any explanation for this difference it may be remarked that the electors of High Bluff acted as if they foresaw that their representative, Mr. John Norquay, was destined one day to be Premier of the Province.

At the time of this election the country-born settlers knew very little about politics, and when for their benefit, a conservative defined a liberal and vice versa, they felt no desire to become either, while as to “protection” and “free trade,” for all they knew the believers in the former policy might claim special supernatural protection, and the latter might imply some connection with those who, trading in opposition to that ancient monopoly, the Hudson’s Bay Company, were in consequence known as free traders.

Our member from Portage la Prairie was Mr. Frederick Bird, ex-president of our little defunct Council. His services to the district and community in the aforenamed corporation both qualified and entitled him to a place among the legislators of the country. The fairness and intelligence he had shown in the former position could safely be taken as a guarantee that in the more important one, he could be trusted to know what was right and to use his influence in promoting it.

The first assembling of the Legislature took place with imposing ceremonies in Mr. Bannatyne’s house on March 15th, 1871. “The mace used on the occasion was carved complete with crown from the hub of a Red River cart, by a man who came out with the Wolseley expedition, and the gilding of this essential symbol of state was performed by Premier Clarke himself, he being the only man in the country known to be capable of doing the work. It was saved from the fire in the first Parliament House, and is today one of the much valued relics of the Provincial Museum.”

The elections to the Dominion House were held on March 2nd, 1871. The racial composition of the County of Marquette in which Portage la Prairie was included, seemed at first to call for three candidates, viz.: (1) Peter Garrioch, pioneer school teacher of Portage la Prairie who was brought forward by the English-speaking old-timers; (2) Dr. Lynch, a man of fine presence, pleasing manner and good ability, who practised his profession for some time in Portage, and was one of Riel’s first prisoners. He was brought out by the settlers from Eastern Canada; (3) Angus McKay, brought forward by the French. As the supporters of the two first-named nominees felt that racial or party distinctions in Portage la Prairie were only nominal and in any case, unworthy of contention, it was agreed that it would show a better spirit and be in their common interests to agree upon one man, and when it came to the matter of deciding who the one man should be, the new-comers being the more skilful politicians secured the nomination of Dr. Lynch, which was confirmed at a well-attended public meeting. On that occasion Mr. Garrioch delivered a short oration which must have caused some of his supporters to regret that they were not giving him a chance to go to Ottawa there to do credit to himself and his country. He stated that it had ever been his aim to keep in mind not only the privileges, but the responsibilities also, that went along with British citizenship, and that when a good deal younger man he had ventured to publicly protest against the monopolistic policy of the Hudson’s Bay Company because it did not accord with his conception of the privileges and opportunities that should be accorded to a people living under the British flag, especially in such a country as this—and this feeling had at one time so influenced him that for a season he had lived among the freedom-loving subjects of the United States; but from what he had seen there, what he had experienced here and from what he had read, it was his firm conviction that in no country under the sun could there be found a finer form of representative Government than existed in the British Dominions. And now when the fond dream of himself and many others was about to be realized and this fair country was about to enjoy what it was hoped would prove a truer type of British rule, it would perhaps ill become him to stand in the way of a man who though younger had doubtless had more political experience, and whose standing among them well justified the expectation that he would not only faithfully promote the welfare of his own constituency, but give valuable help in the development of the country at large, therefore acting with the sanction of his supporters, he would with much pleasure retire from the contest in favour of Dr. Lynch. Mr. Garrioch’s remarks were greeted with hearty applause. Unfortunately the gain to Dr. Lynch by his retirement was off-set by the solid French support given Mr. McKay, whereas if the nomination in Portage had been conceded to Mr. Garrioch, as he had many friends among the Metis, he would doubtless have captured a good share of their votes, and the election would not have resulted as it did, in a tie.

The Province as at first described in the Manitoba Act was to have been a very small one, with Portage la Prairie left out. The promoters of the bill claimed that the smallness was in accordance with the wishes of the French, who did not want to be swamped by a mixed immigration from the East, while as to the exclusion of Portage la Prairie it was claimed that this was in compliance with a request from that district, the intention being that later on it would form the nucleus of a new Province. Fortunately the legislators at Ottawa decided that it would not be in the interests of the country to concede what was asked for, and so the boundaries of the first Province carved out of Rupert’s Land were in consonance with more generous ideas. From the foregoing it would almost seem that at one time Portage la Prairie had a close shave from being made the seat of Government in the Province, and perhaps a very little more influence at Ottawa would have turned the scales in its favour, in which case Winnipeg would have been like unto Portage la Prairie, and the mutual satisfaction of the citizens of the two places would doubtless have been much the same as it is today.

Owing to the death of Sir George E. Cartier and Riel being elected by acclamation to succeed him as member for Provencher he was once more heard from at Ottawa. However, being told what no doubt he believed—that if he went down there he would be shot, he decided to stay away. In 1874 he was again elected and he went down secretly, and one day it was found that by some means he had contrived to sign the roll of membership. This gave him a good chance to learn how he stood in the estimation of his fellow members for when the house was asked to decide the question of his eligibility for membership, he was expelled. Out of one hundred and twenty-nine present, one hundred and twenty-four voted for expulsion.

This vote must have convinced him and his friends that in the opinion of competent judges, whose ruling he would have to respect, he never would be permitted to exercise the rights of Canadian citizenship, unless exonerated by the proper authorities of the crime with which he stood charged; and although perhaps they might never agree as to the man’s just due, so weary had both parties become of this question which had kept the whole country in turmoil for about five years, that they at length agreed upon a compromise, and on February 12th, 1875, an amnesty was granted Riel and Lepine, conditional, however, on five years banishment and forfeiture of political rights. Thus was the country promised five years riddance of Riel; and three years after banishment he was still living at St. Jose on the American side of the line. He then moved to Sun River, in Montana, where he was teaching a small school, when in 1884 he was visited by a delegation of French Half-breeds from Saskatchewan who invited him to come and once more act as their leader in securing for them the rights which they claimed were being withheld by the Canadian Government.

To most students of history it is easy to understand the causes that led to the first Metis uprising, but few pretend to understand what led to the second. Major Boulton and R. G. McBeath—afterwards Reverend McBeath—both served in the campaign that was needed for its suppression. Each in his book describes what happened, but neither hints that in this case there was justifiable cause for resisting the Government. Probably in this as in the former insurrection it was largely due to the depraved ambition of their leader, Louis Riel that so much harm was done. In connection with the first rebellion Major Boulton sized up Riel as a man “lacking in moral stamina, and afflicted with a diseased vanity.” Bishop Tache regarded him as afflicted with “megalomania.” Perhaps had the poor Metis understood the simple meaning of that big word, they never would have encouraged him to lead them a second time into mischief. Mr. McBeath thought it possible that some politicians at Ottawa might be able to explain the Saskatchewan uprising and he left it at that. Mr. G. Mercer Adams writes in his book, in connection with this second rebellion—“In co-habiting with the dusky womanhood of the plains the trader has left us a legacy of mischief.” While Mr. Adams was in the retrospective mood he need not have stopped short at what occurred in the garden of the North-West, but might well have gone further back to what happened in the garden of Eden which, strange to say, was presided over by a gentleman of the same name as himself minus the S, who in the lonesome condition in which he found himself accepted unquestionably such womanhood as was available saying appreciatively, “she is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh”; and with such a precedent surely the pioneer fur trader made no mistake when noticing that the available women of his little world could “love and cherish” as well and truly as their white sisters, and perhaps somewhat better—he sought some amelioration of his lonesome condition by taking to his bosom one of the sprightly maidens of the forests and prairies, and by this act sealed the most sacred and binding treaty ever entered into between Whites and Indians in this or any other country. There is no need to lament the passing of the rubicon that has resulted in a progeny which many times over has compensated for any trouble it may have given, in the saving of many lives that would have otherwise fallen victims to racial antipathy. Given a chance it has produced men and women in whose lives have been reflected the good traits of the fathers and mothers in things lovely and of good report.

It is claimed by some who were residents in the North-West in 1885 when the second rebellion occurred that if the Government officials there had been sufficiently on the alert, the impending troubles would have been noticed and nipped in the bud. Others blame the authorities at Ottawa for not having dealt more promptly with the complaints of the Metis, as the lessons of the first rebellion should still have been fresh in their memories. The Government has also been blamed for refusing to allow them to retain their old style of settlement in narrow lots fronting on the river and for insisting on their adopting instead the Canadian square or checker-board style of location. Allowing that there might have been some truth and reason in these allegations, still it looks as if this second rebellion was the natural sequence of the first, which had been settled in a manner that must have given the Metis the impression that it paid to be rebellious. They certainly favoured the narrow instead of the square survey. While the treatment accorded Riel was just the opposite of what was likely to cure him of his diseased vanity or megalomania.

Riel was no doubt flattered by the confidence reposed in him by his compatriots, some of whom had been his followers in the first uprising, and his manner of answering the deputation that sought him out in Montana, goes to show that in the past fifteen years he had not grown a humbler or wiser man.

Arriving at Batoche on the South Saskatchewan, where some hundreds of Metis were settled, he at once entered upon an aggressive policy. He called a meeting at which twelve councillors were elected, who with himself were to form the nucleus of the Government which was to rule over as much of the country as they might succeed in capturing with the help of the Indians. In order to invest his own personality with greater importance, he renounced his allegiance to the Roman Catholic Church and changed his name to “Louis David Riel exovede,” to signify that he combined kingly and priestly power, and as if to prove to them that this lengthening of his name did not involve any curtailment of their liberties, he allowed them to plunder all the stores within reach.

At this stage it would have been possible for the mounted police to have put down the uprising with the aid of the loyal inhabitants who would have quickly rallied to their support, had not Riel begun putting into execution the threat he had held over Queen Victoria’s head in 1870, when he boasted that he had fifty nations at his back. His runners had visited Green Lake, Lac la Biche, Fort Pitt, Edmonton and other points to get in touch with some of these so-called nations; and as several bands responded and were already on the warpath, it was out of the question to expect the three hundred mounted police stationed at widely separated centres which they were protecting, to be taken from these places and concentrated for an attack on Batoche.

Realizing, no doubt, the value of striking quickly before troops from the East could reach the scene of action, Riel had no sooner heartened up his men with the good things looted from such stores as were accessible, than he sent to Major Crozier in charge of the mounted police at Carlton, demanding his surrender. Fortunately this officer’s slim force was a little later strengthened by the arrival of eighty mounted police and thirty volunteers from Prince Albert.

Major Crozier and the men of his force including the volunteers were quite aware that the Metis had determined on war, yet bearing in mind their ignorance and that it might be possible even yet to convince them that what they were about to undertake was something in which there could not be reasonable hope of success, and that in making the attempt they must inevitably subject themselves and their families to unknown hardship and misery—he and Thomas McKay taking their lives in their hands approached the Metis and made a determined effort to dissuade them from their insane purpose. As Mr. McKay was well and favourably known to them, and was like themselves perfectly at home in the Cree language, it soon became evident to Riel that his sensible advice given in a masterly Cree oration with an occasional French phrase thrown in just at the right place was going to have a telling effect upon his followers, so he started a fiery speech in French and roused some of his men to such a pitch of excitement that Mr. McKay came very near losing his life. At this interview Riel announced in no uncertain language the intentions of himself and the Metis. He said, “What we want is blood, blood, blood, and we are going to drive out the two curses of the country—the Government and the Hudson’s Bay Company and all their sympathizers.”

The first engagement occurred in March at Duck Lake. The Metis fought from cover and were led by Gabriel Dumont who had had some military experience. The mounted police assisted by the Volunteers were led by Major Crozier and stood out in the open. With this disadvantage their casualties were heavy, consisting of twelve killed and twenty-four wounded. The result of the conflict was indecisive.

When news of this engagement reached Manitoba and Eastern Canada, the Government at once issued a call for volunteers, to which a great number at once responded from all over the country, so that in a very short time nine thousand had enlisted, and recruiting ceased, it being considered that a force of nine thousand men was large enough to deal effectively with all or any who might dispute Queen Victoria’s rule in the Saskatchewan and North-West.

As may be supposed among the volunteers were quite a number who had made the acquaintance of Riel during the first Rebellion, and who were not painfully disappointed when a second rebellion gave them the opportunity of renewing acquaintance and exchanging compliments under more favourable conditions. Among these gentlemen may be mentioned Major Boulton, who had been court-martialed, sentenced to be shot and afterwards pardoned; who, it will be remembered, afterwards in trying to secure like clemency for his fellow prisoner Scott, reminded Riel that England was wont to follow into the remotest regions, and bring to justice, the slayer of any of her subjects. Very naturally the Major would now feel it incumbent on him to aid Great Britain in living up to the fine reputation of devotion to her subjects that he had given her, and probably it was with the view of serving in the capacity in which he could most effectively do so that he enlisted as a scout.

When the Rebellion started he was on his farm at Shell River, three hundred miles west of Winnipeg, and he at once offered to raise a body of mounted scouts. His offer was accepted and he proceeded to enlist men with experience in frontier life, not forgetting the Portage volunteers—his former comrades and fellow prisoners—perhaps not forgetting either the question that one of them had once asked him at Headingly—“Does Major Boulton mean fight?”

General Middleton was entrusted with the conduct of the war, and reached Winnipeg March 27th. He left for the seat of war the same night with the 90th Rifles and the Winnipeg Field Battery.

The situation when he reached the Saskatchewan was about as follows: The Metis were securely entrenched at Batoche and nearby points on the South Saskatchewan, the Cree Chief, Poundmaker, was camped with his band in the vicinity of Battleford, and Big Bear, another Chief, was operating in the vicinity of Fort Pitt, each of these noted Chiefs engaging in marauding expeditions as opportunity offered and their spirits moved them.

General Strange was placed in charge of a column operating from Edmonton, and following the North Saskatchewan downstream to Fort Pitt, he thence struck northwards on the trail of Big Bear and his band. The second detachment under the command of Lieut.-Colonel Otter operated on the left bank of the South Saskatchewan, and working downstream, helped General Middleton who approached the Metis more directly, to gradually round them up and force them to a position where they would be either forced to surrender or fight to a finish. Thus while the originators of the trouble were being cornered, their Indian Allies instead of being able to come to their relief were being chased further away and had more than they could do to take care of themselves. Many Indians refused to take part in the war because they were loyal to the Great Mother, Queen Victoria. Many others remained neutral because they were not sure as to which side would win; but when the Semakunissuk, soldiers, began to carry things before them, they promptly got down from the fence and they too became loyal subjects to the Queen.

General Middleton first came into contact with the Metis at Fish Creek, and an engagement followed in which eleven of his men were killed. The Metis gradually withdrew to Batoche where they strongly entrenched. The position was a splendid one for practising the Indian method of fighting. Some underbush and a number of ravines afforded good protection. For the first few days there was only scouting and desultory fighting while General Middleton thoroughly studied the ground so as to decide on the plan of attack that would involve the smallest sacrifice of life, and it was not till the fourth day that a general charge was made and the place captured. The entire loss during the four days fighting was nine killed and forty-six wounded.

Before the final rush and surrender took place, Riel sent a letter to General Middleton of which the purport was, that if given the guarantee of personal safety and a reward, he would leave his compatriots to settle their troubles with the authorities as best they could. If anything was lacking to reveal the character of the man and perhaps the meaning of megalomania, the writing of that letter supplied it.

Shortly after the battle had ceased, Scouts Tom Hourie and Armstrong found Riel, and the former taking him up on his saddle rode with him into camp and delivered him up to General Middleton, who lost no time in forwarding him to Regina.

Once the Metis had been subdued, General Middleton moved on and joined with the other detachments in pursuit of the hostile Indians who were fleeing northwards. What little fighting occurred between the troops and Indians was of a guerilla character. The Indians wisely scattered and avoided a stand-up fight. Their pursuers in consequence, did not get a chance to kill many of them; they however accomplished what was to be more desired—they compelled the surrender of Big Bear and Poundmaker. To the writer it looks as if these Indians fought rearguard actions not so much with the intent to kill as to delay their pursuers so as to gain time to get their families to where pursuit would be increasingly difficult. On the whole the conduct of these Cree warriors throughout the whole war rather belies the usual reputation given the Red Man of being a demon of blood-thirstiness once he gets started. True, they started in badly at Frog Lake on April 2nd when they cruelly massacred nine White people among whom were the Roman Catholic priests Marchand and Furfard, yet when it is remembered that they did not again perpetrate another such atrocity though the opportunity was not wholly lacking; remembering too, that, after all, they were only poor savages, the writer cannot but doubt the justice of having made the ringleaders suffer the extreme penalty of the law, as if equally guilty and responsible with the originators and prime movers in the Rebellion.

At the time of this Rebellion the writer was living at Fort Vermillion on the Peace River, and the first intimation of impending trouble reached there by the Christmas packet. Then about the middle of March news came that it had actually commenced; but no further news had come when I left there in May to come South; and travelling from there by scow down the Peace River to Fort Chipewyan, and after a week’s delay there, by steamer to Portage la Loche, thence on again by York boat, it was not till we were nearing Isle a la Crosse, that we learned that the war was over, that Riel was captured and that the Indians were surrendering, showing that in the North country in those days the intervals between our instalments of news were inconveniently long.

Arriving at Green Lake, then an important depot for the North, we saw the first signs of the abnormal conditions that had existed. The buildings were still standing it is true; but the loyal French Half-breed postmaster in charge did not seem to have much else to be in charge of besides his family, and the empty tin cans and paper that plentifully littered the ground, and also rice enough to suggest that half a dozen married couples had been recently showered. Amusing stories were in circulation of transformations in the personal appearance of some of the dusky women when they decked themselves out in the hats and dresses and other things which their white sisters in the North had intended for their own personal use and adornment.

In one respect the stores at Green Lake were disappointing to the Indian warriors. They found neither shot nor ball, for the officer in charge acting on instructions received from headquarters, had dumped those goods into Green Lake, and they were later recovered none the worse for their immersion.

Arriving at the north branch of the Saskatchewan River opposite where Fort Carlton had stood, we found a party of six French Half-breeds seated around their dinner-fire, who with Red River carts were freighting goods to Green Lake for the Hudson’s Bay Company. We made a guess that they were some of Riel’s ex-soldiers and found that we had guessed correctly; but we had to be very chary and not show too lively an interest in so delicate a subject, as the war was so recent and we could not tell what suffering and loss it had meant to them. One of them had his shirt off and there was distinctly noticeable a bullet wound in the chest. On remarking to him that a bullet wound in the front looked better than one in the back, he turned and showed us that he had one there also; but he grinningly remarked, “That is where it came out.” Later on in the day we stood for a few moments at the graves of the brave mounted police who fell at the Duck Lake encounter.

At the South Saskatchewan we had the opportunity of examining the rifle-pits the Metis had dug under the direction of Gabriel Dumont. Our charioteer who appeared to be remarkably well posted in all the war news told us that General Middleton had remarked on these rifle-pits, that their form and location showed that Dumont was a man of good judgment and also of some military experience. Perhaps so, but to me they spoke of the Metis’ willingness to take big risks to escape a little extra trouble. It was at this place also that we had the chance to see what a log house looks like after a few shells have been pumped into it from a distance of two or three miles. Part of the shingled roof was knocked off, and some of the rafters split up into kindling. A little further on we overtook three Metis women walking along the road, and entered into conversation with them. Nearby were the blackened remains of a house that had evidently been but recently burned, and on drawing their attention to it, one of them who was a well made, fine looking woman, replied that it was some of the work of the troops, and indignantly pronounced it an unnecessary act of destructiveness. Perhaps so, but not being very clear on that point we made no attempt to put her right; but assuring her of our sympathy, and with the hope that they would soon see happier days we proceeded on our journey leaving behind us the battle-scarred country of the Metis, and glad to turn our thoughts to the more peaceful scenes that we knew we were approaching.

Here, however, I shall give one of the war stories of our Jehu, the last one of which he relieved himself; and if I remember rightly it was soon after we said goodbye to the French women. We were passing a large depression on our right, when he pointed in that direction, saying, “That is where Gabriel Dumont fooled the mounted police. They were in pursuit of him, and when he reached somewhere about here, he left the trail and made for a small lake that lies somewhere in that direction. When he reached it night was coming on and the police were not far in the rear. Without pausing he dashed into the water and struck out for the middle where was a small island, which he safely reached just as his pursuers reached the edge of the lake. As night was coming on, they decided their safest plan would be to watch the island during the night and capture him in the morning, but when morning came it was found that instead of camping on the island, he had simply passed through it and taking once more to the water had waded out of the lake landing on the shore opposite to where he had entered, and thus had succeeded in making his escape.” The writer would not now vouch for the truth of the story, but it looked plausible enough, and in trying to believe it, it helped the better to while away the time.

My companion on this journey was, like myself, a missionary taking a year’s furlough; and when we reached the town of Qu’Appelle we agreed that we had reached civilization, an opinion in which we were soon confirmed on partaking of our first meal—breakfast at an hotel, which to us bachelors who had been doing our own cooking was like so much “angels’ food”; but nothing proved to us so conclusively that we had indeed reached civilization as the realization of how completely up against it we would be if we did not speedily lay our hands on some money, first, to pay for the “angels’ food,” secondly to settle with our Jehu for bringing us on our journey from Green Lake to Qu’Appelle in a light wagon drawn by a pair of plucky cayuses, and thirdly, for our railway fare—mine to Portage la Prairie and my companion’s to Winnipeg, where he was to meet and be married to a young lady who had come out from England on that pleasant understanding. Having decided on what money we would need, we hunted up a bank—possibly the one bank in Qu’Appelle at that time—and informed the manager of our wishes. Then and there we were a little hurt to find out how little our appearance and calling counted in a bank where we were not known, and I rather think the banker too was a bit hurt to think there were people in the world green enough to expect what we expected. However, we had no difficulty in referring him to some well known citizen who was able to corroborate our claim of being true men and no spies, after which we obtained our loan.

While we awaited the arrival of the train, my companion decided to wire to his betrothed, informing her of his safe arrival at Qu’Appelle. The operator was a young lady of pleasing appearance and as the message of Mr. —— seemed to answer as an introduction, I left them to exchange further confidences while I inspected the outside of the station until the train pulled in.

It now remains to be told how and when Riel ended his days. At the time of the first Rebellion there was among Riel’s first prisoners one George H. Young, then a mere lad, who was a son of Rev. George Young, who as spiritual advisor helped to prepare Thomas Scott to go to his death. It was this George Young, Jr., who was now Captain of the Winnipeg Field Battery, and the officer into whose charge, under the changed conditions, Riel was given by General Middleton, to be taken from Batoche to Regina. Captain Young received his instructions in writing, which were to the effect that he was to take his prisoner to Regina and deliver him to the authorities there, and that if any attempt at rescue was made on the way, his first act was to be to shoot Riel. With this order he entered Riel’s tent, and allowing him to read it, said: “Those are my orders, and you can rely on my carrying them out.”

After arriving at Regina Riel renounced his independent religious stand, and returned to the Roman Catholic Church. At his trial his counsel took as their line of defence the plea of insanity, thereby incurring the displeasure of their client, who, time and again during the trial, bitterly inveighed against their manner of procedure; but notwithstanding the able defence in his behalf, and the opportunities he forced to justify the course he had pursued, he was proved guilty, and when at last he availed himself of the customary forlorn hope and pleaded his desperate cause without hindrance, he did so after his own dramatic fashion.

He is described as commencing to speak very quietly; then as he warmed up to his subject, his words came quicker and with increasing emphasis and gesture. Occasionally amid a torrential flow of words he acted as if groping after some elusive idea, and then apparently as if he had found what he wanted, he would deliberately proceed to embellish it, rising to heights of eloquence that could not but make the listeners regret that he had not employed his talents to better purpose.

Despite the reasonable plea of his counsel and his remarkable oratory, he was sentenced to be hung at Regina on the 16th November, 1885.

Many were surprised at the way in which he went to his death. He was not infrequently spoken of as a coward, owing to the character of many of his actions, but such an opinion is not sustained by the cool and even dignified manner in which he went to his death, and had he made as good a showing in life as he did in death, he would not have had to end his days from off a scaffold—and on the pedestal that marks his last resting place, at St. Boniface, on which his friends with touchingly fine taste, have caused to be inscribed simply his name—Louis Riel—none would have grudged them adding the words—a man, a Christian and a gentleman.

He calmly mounted the steps leading to the scaffold, on reaching which he asked the priest attending if he might say a few words to the people present. On being advised not to do so, he knelt and engaged in prayer, holding the crucifix which had been loaned him by Mrs. Forget, wife of Governor Forget. Having risen from his devotions he handed the crucifix to his confessor requesting him to hand it to the owner, and to say for him, “Merci, Madame Forget.”

The Rev. R. G. McBeath informs us in his book, that he was present at the funeral of Riel, and that it was touching to notice the grief of many of his compatriots, who evidently had regarded him as a faithful friend.

Fortunately for St. Mary’s congregation, at the time Mr. George passed away, a young missionary by the name of T. H. Canham, was on his way from England to Peel River, in the Diocese of Athabasca, and, having to pass a winter in Manitoba, he was placed in charge of the parish until spring, an arrangement which turned out mutually satisfactory as shown by the subjoined letter and testimonials.

68 Ravina Crescent,

Toronto, East,

24th February, 1920.

“My Dear Mr. Garrioch:

Most willingly do I comply with your request for a few lines re the winter of 1881 and 1882. The bare mention of the Portage, what memories it awakens. I never shall forget my brief stay there. I regard it as one of the happiest times of my ministerial life.

Arriving from England en route to the Arctic regions at the moment of the Rev. Henry George’s death, and it being too late in the season to go North, I was asked by the late Archbishop Machray to fill the gap.

It was the beginning of new life, new activities, new everything at the Portage—the boom was on—and everybody seemed fired with ambition, hope and purpose. I remember this so well on account of the difficulty I had in securing a lodging. I was at the rectory for the first few days, but it, as you know, was far from the town, and there were no street cars nor automobiles those days. Many a long tramp I made looking for a shelter and ended up by rooming and boarding with the Baptist minister. I had been there about a week when Mr. and Mrs. Munns—Church people—invited me to their home and by them I was made very comfortable. The services were held in the small town church until each Sunday it became more crowded and the question was asked what could be done?

The only building available and suitable for the purpose was the court house. This was applied for and secured to the great relief of us all.

Thus it was plainly seen that a new and larger Church was greatly needed, and the building of one was decided upon.

I have been told the present Church at the Portage is a large and very fine one. How I would like to see it. Yes, some names are yet fresh in my mind, for instance the Pratts’, the Birds’, the Setters’—dear Mrs. Setter, partially or totally blind, I do not quite remember which—yet always cheerful and contented—members of your own family ever thoughtful and kind, Dr. Higginson a splendid Churchman and a true friend, and many others whose names I have forgotten, but whose kindness I can never forget. In those far off days our beloved Church at the Portage was fully alive, and was strong in faith, in love and in devotion.

I trust that state of things has continued, and do pray that it may increase and abound ever more and more to the praise and glory of God.”

“The Reverend T. H. Canham.

Dear Sir:

We, the parishioners of St. Mary’s Church, Portage la Prairie, cannot allow you to leave us without giving you some tangible token of our esteem and regard for the very valuable services rendered this congregation and the Church to which it is our privilege to belong.

We would, therefore, beg you to accept this purse, $335, and trust you will receive it in the same spirit in which it is offered, and we trust that your short stay amongst us will long be cherished with pleading recollections.

Our prayer shall ever be that you may be blessed in whatever sphere of labour the All-wise Father may cast your lot, that you may long continue a faithful soldier of the cross. We fully realize the motives that actuate the earnest missionary especially when he braves the rigors of Arctic regions in obedience to the Master’s command, viz.: ‘Go ye unto all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.’

Remembering this we wish you success. May you be abundantly blessed in your labours, and finally when your earthly course is finished may many stars adorn your crown.

Signed on behalf of St. Mary’s congregation,

John James Setter.

Spring of 1882.”

“Rev. T. H. Canham.

Dear Pastor:

Though your stay with us has been of short duration, your uniform kindness and consideration have endeared you to us.

When we consider what your work in our Sunday School has been, we cannot but feel our deep, deep obligation to you, and gratitude to the Giver of all good.

As in all probability your connection with our Sunday School (which we trust we have learned to delight in and love) will in the near future be severed, alas perhaps forever in this world, the members of St. Mary’s Sunday School feel that they cannot allow you to leave them without giving you some slight token of love and esteem, and ask you to accept this ring, not so much for its intrinsic value, but as a small memento of the many happy Sabbaths spent in our Sunday School.

We have thought this ring the most suitable gift as being strongly emblematic of our faith. May it ever remind you of the endless love, the Blood of Atonement of Christ the Rock of Ages.

And now, Reverend and dear Pastor, as we must part, rest assured that our constant prayer shall be that you may continue to be a great blessing to many souls, and as you hope soon to leave for the far North-West never forget that there is a warm spot for you in the hearts of St. Mary’s Sunday School children.

Signed on behalf of the Sunday School,

M. Garrioch.

C. Setter.

Spring, 1882.”

As mentioned in the last chapter I came to Portage from the West in 1885, and although three years had then elapsed since Mr. Canham’s sojourn in Portage the recollection of his kindness and earnestness was evidently still green in the memories of St. Mary’s parishioners.

The following extract from a Clergy Directory shows that Mr. Canham became a veteran missionary, and that in other places besides Portage la Prairie he was highly appreciated:

“Canham, Ven. Thomas Henry, D.D., C.M.S. Missionary at St. Saviour’s since 1910; Archdeacon of Yukon since 1892; educated at C.M.S. College, Islington; Ordained, 1880; Curate of Camerton, Cumberland, winter of 1880-81; Missionary at Portage la Prairie, 1881-82; Peel River, 1882-87; Lower Yukon River, 1882-92; Rector St. Andrew’s, Fort Selkirk, 1892-1910; Secretary Tukudh Mission, 1881-1891; Diocese Selkirk, 1891-1906; Retired from Yukon Mission Field in fall of 1916.”

The gap filled by Mr. Canham was not followed by another upon his departure for Peel River, as he was almost immediately succeeded by Rev. A. L. Fortin, who had newly arrived from his last charge, Belmont, Ontario. Mr. Fortin was appointed by Bishop Machray to the Incumbency of St. Mary’s in the spring of 1882.

The writer is indebted to Archdeacon Fortin, and also to Rev. A. L. Fortin’s widow for the following data:

The Rev. Alfred Louis Fortin was born September, 1840, at Iberville, P.Q., and was the son of William and Sophie Fortin. He was educated at Sebrevois College, St. John’s. Ordained Deacon by Bishop Fulford, May 2, 1864, and priested at Sebrevois July 8, 1866, by the same Bishop. From 1866 to 1882 served in the following places—Boscobel as Incumbent; Sorel, Locum Tenens for Canon Anderson; Belmont, Ont., as Incumbent. May, 1882, to March, 1885, Incumbent at St. Mary’s, Portage la Prairie; from May, 1885, and two or three years following, Incumbent at St. Andrew’s, Rupert’s Land. His next charge was Kenora, and his last was Brushton and Lawrenceville, Diocese of Albany, N.Y. His death occurred at Waterloo, N.Y., January 1, 1918. He was married three times, first to Lucia Bangles, the lady known and loved by the parishioners of St. Mary’s, Portage la Prairie, who still remember the children by name as Marie, Maud, Rachel, Daisy and Charles. His second marriage was to Miss Eleanor Turren, and his third to Miss Fanny Croker, who survives him.

On taking charge of St. Mary’s parish Mr. Fortin continued to hold the Sunday services at the court house, and the Sunday School in the little town Church, while, in the meantime he and the Church officials proceeded to carry out the decision of the congregation as to the building of a new Church.

It was Mr. Fortin’s misfortune to take charge of the parish the year following the short period of inflated land values known as “the boom.” It is usually accepted as according to facts that this boom had risen to its height some time in the autumn of 1881 and that its collapse was about complete within the next three months, that is, that the public were convinced in that length of time that it was hopelessly over, notwithstanding the persistent endeavours of some interested parties to conceal the fact. It was indeed a bad time to undertake the building of a Church; but then if the Church was needed before the boom it certainly was still more needed afterwards, for there were more people and more of them needed comfort. The writer living at Peace River at the time, he was no more excited over the boom than over the second Riel Rebellion. Judging from the description of others, it would almost seem that the commercial atmosphere must have been infested by some kind of microbe, and there can be no question about the fever of speculation having become epidemic. Nearly everyone would seem to have been afflicted with land on the brain, and to have imagined that there could be no more wholesome ambition than to own a bit of the earth’s surface so as to dispose of it to some other individual at a good advance. Well it was for the few cautious ones who sold out their holdings and bought no more, for there were very few indeed of the inexperienced who went past that one deal who did not very soon bitterly repent having done so. The equilibrium between supply and demand was soon gone, and land became a drug in the market; many who had been well off found themselves poor; others found themselves burdened with land, which, whether held or abandoned involved them in litigation.

Of this period the Archdeacon wrote in connection with his brother’s Incumbency: “It was a time of rapid growth, accompanied with great restlessness and ever changing conditions. Many doubtful ventures were launched, in Church as well as in other directions. Many were overtaken by disappointments and disaster. There were many failures, and finally, when the bubble burst, a period of gloom and discouragement settled upon the country for a time.

“Readjustment was necessary. The old dreams of fabulous wealth through inflated values, became only a dismal memory. People once more faced solid realities. Happily with the buoyancy which is characteristic of the North-West, the people soon displayed a courage and resourcefulness which surmounted all difficulties. Losses were forgotten. Only a boundless faith in the country survived. A valuable lesson had been learned, namely, that honest work is the surest avenue to success.”

The abnormal conditions incident to the boom made the need of a new church the more obvious and pressing, and the decision of Mr. Fortin and the Vestry to build at once met with the unanimous approval of the members of the congregation, but when the question of the most suitable site was brought up it was found that they were seriously divided, the old-timers favouring the one on which the little church stood, claiming that it had been chosen by Mr. George as central, and was central still, and far as mortal man could see, “would continue so for many years to come,” but some of the more recent arrivals as strongly favoured the selection of a site further west, claiming that towns in Canada and the United States usually expand westward, and that from indications to date the same would apply to Portage la Prairie.

After careful consideration the original church members conceded the point, thus standing by the church in what the Church stands for—peace and good-will among men; and accordingly a new site was procured for the new Church. That site was the one on Ann Street on which stands today the Church, Rectory and Parish Hall. It is about six hundred and fifty yards west and two hundred and fifty north of the old site, and of the two has come to be the more central.

It was when the boom was over and many days of depressing reaction had followed that the new Church was built, and its size would seem to indicate that the boom had not seriously affected the faith of its promoters in the future of the country, and of Portage la Prairie in particular, and although it transpired that during the life-time of the Church which they built, its seating capacity of four hundred was about two-thirds larger than was needed, yet considering the abnormal conditions of the times they had passed through, and that the population of the town was about three thousand, five hundred, the margin allowed for expansion was not unreasonable.

This Church was built for the accommodation of about fifty families, of whom there was perhaps not one that could be called rich, and very few indeed who could even be called well off; and like many other congregations in a similar position they had recourse to a loan from a mortgage company, and in order to obtain this a number of parishioners signed a bond, which most of them at the time supposed made them individually liable for an equal share of the loan, whereas it turned out afterwards that they were severally and collectively liable for the total amount, so that to the extent that one or more defaulted the others would have extra to pay.

The Church edifice built at this time was hardly deserving of all the strictures later passed upon it. It was ecclesiastical in appearance, while its appearance within was pleasing to anyone not bent on criticism. It consisted of a nave, transepts and choir, and over the spacious gothic arch of the choir, there was painted in old English letters the text—“This is none other but the house of God and this is the gate of Heaven.” Its acoustic properties were good. The congregation was fortunate in its choir, which under the able leadership of Professor Snell, aided with a fair sized organ skilfully played, rendered the musical part of the service in an efficient and acceptable manner.

To Mr. George belongs the credit of introducing into the Church instrumental music and the chanting of the canticles; and in Mr. Fortin’s time another step in advance was made in the occasional singing of anthems, solos, or duets.

Mr. Fortin belonged to the evangelical school, to which the original Church members were of course firmly attached, and, therefore, his preaching and manner of conducting the services accorded well with the predilections of his congregation.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Fortin were of a genial and friendly nature, and in their intercourse with the members of the congregation neither of them by word or example gave any encouragement to class distinctions.

To Mr. and Mrs. Fortin belongs the honour of organizing a Ladies’ Aid in St. Mary’s parish; and during the period of their stay Mrs. Fortin worked faithfully and acceptably as its President.

If Mr. Fortin did attempt during his stay with St. Mary’s Church more than he was able to bring to a successful finish, his experience in that respect was akin to that of many labourers in things secular as well as ecclesiastical during that particular period, and in the planning of big things followed by careful and prayerful endeavour there can never be complete failure—the full measurements of spiritual endeavour and accompanying results cannot be taken in this sphere.

The announcement by Mr. Fortin of his intention to leave was received with regret by the congregation. To any clergyman resigning charge of a parish there must be conceded the right to do so for personal and conscientious reasons, upon the validity of which others might not be competent to pronounce. Admitting that he failed in successfully financing the Church building scheme, considering that under the conditions existing at that time failures were very common, there was some ground for satisfaction that he had come off no worse, yet when he looked round on the devastations that the boom had left in its wake, who can blame him if his heart failed him, and he resolved to get out and leave to someone with better pretensions to a capacity for business the task of dealing with the aftermath of the boom in which St. Mary’s Church so largely shared.

After the resignation of Rev. A. L. Fortin the parish remained vacant for one year. During this vacancy the pulpit was filled from Sunday to Sunday, by someone belonging to or provided by the teaching staff of St. John’s College. The parish records of the period show entries and signatures by the following clergymen who officiated:

Reverends Archdeacon Fortin, Dean Grisdale, Alfred Cowley, Archdeacon Pinkham, Canon Coombes and others. Towards the end of this interval Rev. A. S. H. Windsor took charge tentatively; but as he and the congregation could not agree on the manner of service that would be mutually satisfactory, they at least agreed to part as friends, and so he left after only a few weeks stay.

While there can be no question that the qualifications vital to the success of the Christian ministry are of a spiritual character, it is equally true that the worker so endowed needs for the completion of his equipment a knowledge of the world, and especially a working knowledge of business methods. Fortunately at the time the financial affairs of St. Mary’s parish were in the depressing condition indicated in the previous chapter, the Diocese was presided over by Bishop Machray who besides the Christian and scholarly attainments expected of a Father in God, had also administrative abilities of a high order right down to the financial or secular department. For twenty years he had signed himself R. Rupert’s Land, and St. Mary’s in common with other parts of the Diocese enjoyed the benefit of his remarkable ability and energy—qualities which while centering mainly in St. John’s College radiated therefrom to all parts of his vast Diocese, being transmitted in large measure through the men trained under him for the Christian ministry and who went forth preaching the word everywhere.

One of these, Rev. C. N. F. Jeffery was appointed by him to take charge of the parish of St. Mary’s in the spring of 1886. Mr. Jeffery was then twenty-six years of age and less than two years old in the Christian ministry.

He was born December 3, 1860, at Newport, Hants County, Nova Scotia. His father was James Woodhouse Jeffery and his mother Celeste Harvie Avondale—both of Nova Scotia. He received his early training in the Avondale Public School, and afterwards studied four years in Mt. Allison Wesleyan College at Sackville, New Brunswick. At St. John’s College he received the degree of B.D., and at Manitoba University the degree B.A., and a year subsequently that of M.A. At the General Theological Seminary, New York, he took a Post-Graduate Course. He was ordained Deacon September 29, 1884, and Priest May 31st, 1885, by Bishop Machray in both cases. His first charge was Clearwater, Rock Lake, Manitoba. He was appointed Rector of St. Mary’s, Portage la Prairie, May 16, 1886, and resigned August 15, 1887. Was Assistant at St. Timothy’s, Roxborough, Philadelphia, February 21, 1888, to August 1, 1890. Archdeacon of Watauga, N. Carolina, August 1, 1890, to October 1, 1892. Rector of Zion Church, Douglaston, N. York, October, 1892, to August, 1898. Missionary at Fort Francis, Ontario, September, 1898, to January, 1901. Secretary of Synod and General Missionary, Diocese of Rupert’s Land, January, 1901, to August 31, 1911. Secretary-Treasurer of the Diocese of Rupert’s Land, August 31, 1911, to the present time, 1922. Besides being Secretary-Treasurer of Synod he is an Honorary Canon of St. John’s Cathedral. He was married in the Cathedral in Chicago by the Dean, April 2, 1891, to Miss Gunn, daughter of Robert Gunn, Esq., Dominion Lands Agent, and Margaret Drake, his wife. The Canon and Mrs. Jeffery have four children—two sons and two daughters. One son is a travelling salesman, and the other is taking a course in medicine. One daughter is a nurse and the other is engaged in a bank.

Notwithstanding onerous duties the Canon obligingly made time to send me the following interesting reminiscences of his pastorate of St. Mary’s:

“According to a request by Archdeacon Pinkham that I should spend Easter Day, 1886, in the Parish of St. Mary’s, Portage la Prairie, and conduct the services in the church, I was enabled to form my first acquaintance with a work upon which I entered in the following May and with which is associated some of the pleasantest memories of my life. When shortly after my visit I was offered the Rectorship, I at first declined it. The difficulties of the situation seemed insuperable. The large frame church was greatly in need of extensive repairs and the walls were in places so seriously out of plumb as to threaten an early collapse of the entire edifice. The rectory also gave evidence of faulty construction and subsequent neglect, and to crown all the whole property was covered by a mortgage too heavy for the congregation to carry. The mortgage company was pressing for payment of arrears of interest and had already attached and sold some of the stock in trade of one of the bondsmen, a member of the congregation. Ultimate foreclosure and the loss of the property seemed inevitable. The church was insufficiently heated for the Easter services and the chilliness of the atmosphere was intensified by rows of empty pews. My heart indeed went out in sympathy to the few devoted people who still clung to the church and her services, but when the offer came I felt compelled to make answer that it seemed to me it would be unwise to give up a work where I was meeting with success, to accept one where success appeared impossible.

“Further consideration, however, revealed some encouragements. Things were about as bad as they could be and any change would be for the better. The Diocesan authorities were negotiating with the C.M.S. and proposing a plan which, if accepted by the Society and the Loan Company, would afford substantial relief. There was in the parish a nucleus of attached and faithful people who could no doubt be relied upon to do their utmost at all times for the Church. The town had a population of about 4,000 and afforded promising opportunities for aggressive effort. The town, although suffering from the effects of the boom, was fairly prosperous and was the centre of one of the very best agricultural districts in the province. The district had proved the fertility of its soil and its comparative freedom from early frosts. The difficulties, serious as they were, would furnish incentive to earnest endeavour and afford valuable experience.

“A wire from the Archdeacon asking for a final and definite answer resulted in my writing him a letter stating fully my point of view, but concluding with these words: ‘As you seem to believe I can be more useful at Portage than at Clearwater, I have decided to say ‘accipio.’ ”

“Into the details of parish life during my rectorship it is not necessary to enter. Suffice it to say that under the wise management of Archbishop Machray, Archdeacon Pinkham and Mr. C. J. Brydges, the parish satisfied its creditors and an honorable and equitable solution of the financial problem was effected. The parish relinquished all claim upon what is known as the C.M.S. Trust, receiving as its share of the lands belonging to the Trust the transfer of Lot 49, Portage la Prairie. This lot, together with the rectory and a mortgage on the church for $1,000.00, was accepted by the Loan Company as payment in full, and the first mortgage was discharged. The mortgage of $1,000.00 was paid off during the rectorship of my successor, the late Canon Macmorine.

“For the repairs and improvements made in the church fabric during my time, the credit must be given in large part to the Ladies’ Aid Society of the parish, under the able presidency of Mrs. P. V. Georgen. These good ladies more than once surprised the rector and the whole parish, including themselves, with the magnificent results of their work. Their enthusiasm and efficiency were a continual inspiration and their loyal support of the rector and vestry brought realization to plans which otherwise would have been unattainable.

“We were not unmindful of the power and helpfulness of good music in the services of worship, and during the latter part of my rectorship the choir of St. Mary’s attained a high degree of proficiency under the direction of the late Mr. Charles Burley.

“Two men must be mentioned here for their valuable services in the office of warden, the late Mr. George H. Webster and the late Mr. William Garland, and another the late Mr. William Keyes, in the office of superintendent of the Sunday School.

“Among the laymen who in my day gave strength to the parish were a number of the officers of the Manitoba & North-Western Railway. Nor must I fail to mention the presence with us of some splendid types of the men of the olden time. Men like John and Gavin Garrioch and Malcolm and Charles Cummings. To know these men was to admire and love them.

“Most of those I have mentioned by name have passed to the Great Beyond. ‘They have finished their course. They have kept the faith.’ My best wish for St. Mary’s will perhaps be this, that the parish may never want a succession of such faithful and true men to serve in the various offices and work of the Church.”

The Canon has now been thirty-eight years in the Christian ministry, and it is twenty-one years ago that he was appointed to the combined offices of Secretary of Synod and General Missionary, and although in the year following—the year 1902—the duties were lightened by the formation of the Diocese of Keewatin, that was soon offset by an increase of Missionary work in the parent Diocese, so that in 1912, it was found necessary to place the two departments under separate management, Dr. Page being appointed General Missionary while Canon Jeffery retained the Secretariat combining therewith, however, the office of Treasurer, a position shortly before made vacant by the resignation of Mr. George Grisdale. Once the organization of the Brandon Diocese has been completed, no doubt for a time the responsibilities of those entrusted with the management of the Missionary and financial affairs of the parent Diocese, will again be appreciably lightened. For several years the position of General Missionary has been held by Venerable Archdeacon Thomas assisted by Rev. H. L. Roy.

At the age of sixty-two Canon Jeffery shows the alertness and buoyancy of a man in his prime, and looks as if he might continue to record the doings of the Synod and its Executive for a score of years longer. While the Canon may not take the initiative at meetings of the Executive Committee, it sometimes happens that when the doings of that body are under criticism by a clergyman or delegate from the country or someone else, during a session of the Diocesan Synod, it is usually he who has to act as proxy or buffer, and has to stand up or sit down and take whatever is coming, and the philosophic manner in which he can do this is a fine example to the younger clergy and others, of the advantage of being able to keep cool under fire.

The prosperity of a parish may be fairly well gauged by the extent to which pastor and people heartily co-operate in the Master’s work; but a more reliable evidence of spiritual life and devotion to the same Lord and Master is that furnished by men or women in the rendering to Him of like services when there is not the aid of a pastor with a perhaps pleasing personality—not even perhaps any pastor at all; and twice has St. Mary’s parish been in that position during the sixty-nine years of its history, the first being for a period of one year including the winter of 1855-56, and the second, thirty years later for another one year period that included the winter of 1885-86. The first occurred during the pastorate of Archdeacon Cochrane when he took a year’s furlough and visited Eastern Canada, and although during his absence two Missionaries—Revs. Mr. Kirkby and Mr. Hillyer, a son-in-law of the Archdeacon’s—each took the Sunday services for a few weeks, there were a good many Sundays when the services were read by either Frederick Bird or William Garrioch. In doing so they did not enter within the Communion rail. The tendency of the laity in those days to discriminate against a brother layman who might undertake to minister in holy things is well illustrated by the following incident which occurred on a weekday following a Sunday when one of the aforenamed gentlemen had taken service. Two parishioners happening to meet on the road one said to the other: “I did not notice you at church on Sunday.” “Huh,” he contemptuously replied, “I don’t go to Church to hear just a man.” If this particular parishioner was still in the congregation at the time of the second pastorless interval when the teaching staff of St. John’s College supplied the services, probably he would be there expecting to hear a super-man. However, anent the strange remark under consideration and the opinion implied, let it be remembered in the upbuilding of Christ’s spiritual edifice there is almost sure to be ever the empty niche and so long as there is just a man or just a woman who moved by the spirit will step forward and fill it, just so long will that parish go forward and prosper.

Of the numbers mentioned by Canon Jeffery as rendering service in connexion with the Church organizations, two only—Messrs. William Garland and William Keyes, were intimately known to the writer. Of these two gentlemen it may be said that while their personalities were not of the same type, they were both so genial, friendly and upright, that it would be difficult to say who was the more loved and respected. The community showed its appreciation of the former by electing him mayor of the City of Portage la Prairie, and later as its representative in the Manitoba Legislature, a position that he held up to the time of his death. Of the latter it may be said that he devoted his life to work among the young, and mostly in connexion with Sunday School work in the Anglican Church. In early life he taught school in Paisley, Ontario; from 1869 to 1880 he was superintendent of St. Paul’s Sunday School in Caledonia, Ontario. During the Incumbency of Canon Jeffery and the greater part of that of Canon Macmorine he was superintendent of St. Mary’s Sunday School, during which time he compiled a small hymn book for use in the Sunday School. His interest in Sunday School work was not of the common sort that stops short at hoping that it may prosper or which perhaps goes so far as to pray that it might. He found a niche, and he stepped in and filled it and was aided by other faithful S.S. workers who each found his or her niche and did the same. These kept this most important branch of Church work going forward even when there was no clergyman in charge. These hoped, prayed and expected the Sunday School to prosper but not by the Grace of God without their assistance. The last twelve years of his life were spent at Keyes, known as Midway when he located there, but a few years later changed to Keyes in his honour. There he carried on the same good work. His death occurred March 15, 1906. Briefly it may be said—he was unassuming in manner, gentle and affectionate as a child, so that child service and friendship came natural to him. Strong in faith and loyal to his church—a true man—he finished his course with joy and departed to his rest beloved and respected by all who knew him.

When the Synod met in the July following it expressed by a standing and unanimous vote its concurrence with the following resolution, of which a copy was sent to Mrs. Keyes: “That by the death of the late Mr. William Keyes, of Keyes, this Synod has lost one of its most respected and useful members. For many years he served as a member of the Vestry of St. Mary’s la Prairie, and as superintendent of the Sunday School. Afterwards at Keyes his influence was strongly felt and greatly contributed in placing the Church there in the position she now occupies. We thank God for the exalted Christian character which he exemplified, the unselfish devotion he exhibited, and the splendid influence for God and righteousness and purity which he ever exerted.”

“To his sorrowing widow and children we extend our sincere sympathy with prayers for the Divine blessing.”

The following is a brief extract from an article which appeared in one of the Portage papers on the occasion of Mr. Keyes death: “He was widely known, and could not but be known as a man of absolute sincerity, integrity and truth; a humble minded and sincere Christian, full of good works and one whose influence for good was widespread. He was a most faithful and devoted member of the Church of England. During his whole life he took an active interest in Sunday School work. Indeed, wherever he went his influence was felt in every department of Church work.”

These faithful workers mentioned in Canon Jeffery’s reminiscences as men of the olden time, after having been led by the Good Shepherd to pleasant places and the waters of comfort and to the table prepared in the wilderness, have finally in the evening of their well-spent days answered the Master’s call and gone to be with Him which is far better.

Rev. Samuel Macmorine, M.A., was born September 6, 1847, at Almonte, Ontario. His parents, Rev. John Macmorine, D.D., and Sophia Dunbar Brodie Airth, were both natives of Scotland. His father was for over twenty years pastor of St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church at Almonte. Mr. Macmorine was educated chiefly by private tutors, among whom were, Rev. Robert Campbell, D.D., Rev. James Carmichael and Professor Donald Ross. He entered Queen’s University in 1861 and graduated B.A., May 7, 1865. He received his M.A. in 1872 from the same University. He took charge as licentiate of St. John’s Presbyterian Church, Pittsburg, Ontario, where he remained for about three years. For two years he was pastor of St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, Huntingdon, P.Q. Having been in sympathy with the Anglican Church for some time, he joined that Church, being ordained Deacon October 28, 1874, at Christ Church, Ottawa, by the Bishop of Ontario, and Priest in St. Mary’s Church, Trenton, Ontario, November 7, 1875. He was curate for the Bishop of Ontario at the Church of St. John the Evangelist, Ottawa, for six months. He was subsequently in charge at Christ Church, Huntley, Ontario, three years; Bells Corners, Ontario, three and a half years; Holy Trinity, Ottawa, one year; St. Mary’s Church, Pakenham, three and one half years; St. Mary’s Church, Portage la Prairie, from 1888 to 1909. Ven. Archdeacon Macmorine, Rector of St. James’ Church, Kingston, was a brother of Canon Macmorine. The Canon was married January 10, 1872, to Miss Adelaide Louisa, daughter of Wm. B. Meyer, Esq., of the City of Quebec, by whom he had five daughters; Beatrice, at home in Brandon; Helen, married to Rev. R. H. L. Girling; Adelaide, married to Mr. Barnard, a lawyer; Sybil, of the Collegiate teaching staff in Brandon; and Mary, also engaged in teaching. Of the above named daughters it is Miss Sybil who, out of the goodness of her heart, has added much to whatever merit may be contained in “First Furrows,” by making the fine contribution thereto that is to be found in the next pages:

MY FATHER’S WORK IN THE PARISH OF ST. MARY’S

“In the January of 1888 my father took over the curacy of the parish. He had made a trip to the West as far as Calgary in the summer before, and in his diary concerning the trip he refers to Portage la Prairie as a thriving town with a fair showing of Indians. The wardens at that time were Mr. William Garland and Mr. G. H. Webster, both men whose lives were for many years connected with the parish and the town. They were, moreover, trusted friends of my father; throughout their lives and his.

“The church was not at this time in a strong financial position. The boom had spent itself leaving many people more or less impoverished. The two or three years preceding my father’s coming and succeeding the departure of Mr. Fortin, had been so broken by changes that little had been done to draw together and strengthen the existing forces. There was a standing debt upon the church of about $1,200.00. In the year 1887-88 the money paid to missions according to the annual report was $30.55; and that in itself is very strong evidence of the moribund state of the parish. There was no rectory, although a rectory had been built beside the church when the church was built; but the stress of the times had necessitated its being sold.

“The church building itself was a pretentious one, built in boom days and quite in accord with the large ideas of those hopeful days. Many old citizens will remember the old white frame building with the great large transepts and a very roomy chancel. A photograph of the old church taken at Thanksgiving, showing a great evergreen arch set in the much greater arch dividing the nave from the chancel, comes back to my mind.

“The annual report of church expenses given in March, 1888, shows a record of $361.00 spent upon painting and repairing the church, new carpet, mattings, chandelier and other furniture. The people were evidently arousing themselves and pulling themselves together.

“An interesting old document of 1890 shows that the old church property on the Slough Road near Dr. Haggerty’s house was sold with the building appertaining thereto to Mr. Magee for $250.00.

“In the same year, 1890, my father decided to draw together the native people, who lived scattered along the river bank at distances of three or four miles from town, and to give them a little chapel of their own. This chapel was built very nearly upon the site of the original church which Archdeacon Cochrane had built in 1854, thirty-six years earlier; and some of the same workmen who built the original one, aided in the construction of St. Mary’s Chapel. It went by the name of the ‘River Church’ as it stood close to the river bank. This chapel was essentially a thing belonging to the people. Their gifts, their money, their work went into it. The records show that one man gave two oak timbers for foundation, another man gave fifty pounds of nails, and so on. Many small contributions and much voluntary labour finally resulted in a very pretty little chapel. As an interesting comparison with present day prices, I call attention to the fact that for a workmen’s bee held there at that time, 19 pounds of beef were bought for the sum of $1.35—about 7 cents a pound. My father drew the plans for the chapel and he, himself, did a lot of the actual building work, and I well remember his being down there one day in a building scarcely roofed during a frightful thunder-storm, while my mother was waiting anxiously at home for him. The collection when the chapel was opened amounted to $46.35, and I think that there were at that time no outstanding debts against it.

“Four years later the annual report for 1894 showed that there had been considerable activity in the parish. The grant paid to the mission fund was $72.63, and the amount paid into the church debt with the assistance of an active Ladies’ Aid, was $671.41.

“The work of the clergyman in the parish cannot necessarily be estimated by the financial state in which the parish finds itself, though such is often a true indication of Christian activity and life. The clergyman’s work is a silent one, invaluable and beyond all estimation. One strong proof of the existence of God is that goodness always touches people, and goodness is of God. Often the only outward proof of a good influence in a parish is to be found in the general life and activity of the people in united church work. So it was with my father. His character and his example were a silent guide to all. Testimonials come sometimes, unexpectedly and suddenly, as when a young Englishman, a clergyman’s son himself, remarked; ‘He was more of a Dad to me than ever my own father was.’

“In 1895 Bishop Burne of Qu’Appelle came, upon my father’s invitation, and held a mission in the parish. Anyone who had the privilege of attending that mission will have a very real recollection of it, and of the true Saint of God who conducted it. I remember as a child being impressed by that man as I had never been before.

“The debt upon the old church was finally wiped out and none too soon; for two months after the final payment in 1897 the building was condemned as unsafe. It was a very spreading, unwieldy building and was faulty in construction from the first. The church services were held, between the time that the old church was closed and the new one opened, in the Town Hall. The parishioners began at once to make plans for the new church, with which building the present congregation are so familiar.

“The present stone church which was opened on January 1, 1899, ten years before my father’s death, cost $8,200.00, and of this all but $3,700.00 was paid within the year. My father’s records of subscriptions to the church show that it was a church of one and all of the congregation. The total was made up of so many small subscriptions and so few large ones.

“Shortly after the time the church was opened the sweet-toned little pipe organ, a gift from some members of the congregation—amongst others Mr. Burley—was installed; and with that the church furnishings were fairly complete.

“In 1904, after the death of Mr. Burley, the church people saw fit to buy back the old rectory from the Burleys. My father sold the house which he had bought on Elizabeth Street and moved into the rectory, where he lived for the last few years of his life.

“The Mission Fund records for 1908 show a grant of $254.00 handed over to the M.S.C.C. The parish had learned to realize more fully the outside duties and its missionary calls.

“My father was a man of so many parts that it is only natural that he should have been called upon to fulfil many duties outside his actual parish work. He was for many years a member of the School Board, and during the last years of his life was the chairman of the board. He was a member of the University Council, and of the Executive of the Diocese. He was Rural Dean of the Deanery of Portage la Prairie, and as such had a good deal of work and supervision in the surrounding countryside. A few years before his death he was appointed to the office of Honorary Canon of St. John’s Cathedral. His interests were so wide, his knowledge so extensive and various and his gift of speech so rich that he was constantly being asked to speak upon one occasion or another. He would address the Horticultural Society in Brandon upon such a subject as ‘Some Forms of Plant Life in Manitoba,’ and shortly after be the speaker at the Canadian Club upon such a subject as ‘Sixty Years of Canadian Life.’ So his active life was spent in the heart of humanity, always lending a friendly ear to other peoples interests and troubles and always keenly alert to the problems and questions of the day.

“My father died on March 9th, 1909, and the town showed its respect by lowering the flags to half-mast. He may almost be said to have died in harness. He took the services, though not well at the time, on the Sunday but one before he died. He had given twenty years of faithful service to the parish, and we cannot but believe that in a broader and more generous sphere he continues to serve his Lord and Master.”

Although St. Mary’s parish had been thirty-five years established when Rev. S. Macmorine took charge, it is not unlikely that there still lingered a feeling among some of the old-timers that the real clergyman had to come from England, but if such a feeling did outlive the influence of his Canadian predecessors, Revs. Fortin and Jeffery, no doubt the feeling was soon completely dissipated by the third pastor who had not come to them from overseas, and yet had come far enough to be not quite a prophet in his own country. Nevertheless, like his predecessors it is well known that he had to listen as they had had to do to some splendid eulogies of Archdeacon Cochrane. One old gentleman, after having recounted some of the Archdeacon’s achievements, was wont to wind up with the remark: “Ah, but there’ll never again be the likes of him.” When the old-timer made that remark, he failed to make sufficient allowance for changed conditions; but Mr. Macmorine could afford to be generous, and thoroughly equipped as he was for the work of his own day, far from fancying a disparagement of himself which was certainly never intended, he probably sensed nothing from the remark other than a fine streak in old-timer’s make-up, and would no doubt, take his encomiums upon a predecessor who a quarter of a century previously had gone to his rest as some assurance that like faithful service rendered by himself in the cause of the same Master, would be held in like thankful remembrance. And that blessed hope he realized in his life-time, and doubtless in larger measure realizes still.

Some people somehow convey the impression that they are never themselves, because they have distorted their personalities with the borrowed mannerisms of others. To no man could such behaviour be more impossible than to Mr. Macmorine, who conveyed to all who had to do with him the impression that it was not in him to be otherwise than natural and genuine, and it was due to the confidence that people had in this genuineness of his sympathy and good-will, as well on account of his scholarly attainments that he was constantly sought after and invited to occupy the uppermost places of service. The writer cannot remember having ever made the acquaintance of anyone who so much impressed him as having an inexhaustible fund of scientific and general knowledge at his finger ends as did Canon Macmorine. His genius was in fact of an extraordinarily versatile character. On one occasion journeying in his company by train between Portage la Prairie and Gladstone, we found ourselves facing a school inspector who had a book on natural history in his hand, which he was reading, and very soon it was evident to me that there was more natural history in the Canon’s head than in the Inspector’s hand. A discussion on bird life mixed up well with a bird’s eye view of the scenery, and somewhere about Woodside the talk led up rather naturally to entomology, and by the time the train pulled in at Gladstone I had learned enough about the habits and accomplishments of the mosquito to raise that little creature very considerably in my estimation.

When Canon Macmorine took charge of St. Mary’s, the Rural Deanery of Portage la Prairie or Marquette, as it was then called, had been two years in existence, having been formed in 1886 by Archdeacon Pinkham, who acted at the time as a rural dean. A few months afterwards the office was conferred on Rev. Thos. Cook, Incumbent at Westbourne, who held it till the time of his death in 1891. Rev. S. Macmorine was then appointed to the office and held it till the time of his death eighteen years later. His view of how to properly discharge the duties of the position entailed upon him considerable extra work, and it was common for him to spend a day or two, or even a week or more outside his own parish, the longer absence being managed by an exchange of pulpits, an arrangement very pleasing to all the parishes of the deanery, and about which there were no complaints in his own. While in the spirit of the royal law he thus went out of his way to lighten the burdens of his fellow-labourers he did not appear to have added to his own. It was commonly said of him that in his unselfishness he was willing to take the shoes off his feet or the coat off his back or divide his last crust to help another. Speaking personally and advisedly I would say, “Let my right hand forget its cunning if ever I forget” the loving services of Canon Macmorine rendered to me as the pastor of a struggling country mission.

It will no doubt be readily conceded that none are better fitted to minister the consolations of the Christian religion than they who are so full of sympathy for others that they can weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice. Canon Macmorine was wonderfully endowed with this heaven-bestowed gift of sympathy. On one occasion when the home of a parishioner of mine had been half emptied by a quick succession of deaths, and at last I felt that any more words from me would come back into my own ears like a mocking echo, I asked the Canon to come to my relief, and as I listened to his simple assurances of Divine compassion and the deep sympathy of the entire community, and observed how the anguished minds of the bereaved were being soothed, I was glad that I had done so. And after all, who that cares aright will set more store on a grand funeral or fine oration, than on the trembling voice and falling tear, that fittingly divert the thoughts of the anguished mind to the loving Christ, whose tears over his friend called for the remark—“Behold how he loved him.” But however deeply Canon Macmorine might feel, only once did I know him to actually fail in keeping his feelings under control. He was conducting the funeral of a little girl who had belonged to the Sunday School, and when commenting on her lovable disposition he had to pause twice to recover his self-command. When word of Archbishop’s Machray’s death reached Portage la Prairie, it happened to be from the writer that the Canon first heard of it, and with an exclamation of sorrow he bowed his head and remained silent for some time, and when later he communicated the intelligence to Mrs. Macmorine he did so in evident agitation. Yet it must not be gathered from the foregoing remarks that he was either of a pensive or a melancholy disposition, for it was quite the reverse, in fact he was so full of wit and geniality that they only awaited suitable occasions when they had to bubble over. This happy trait in his character was alluded to at his funeral by Archbishop Matheson, who said his visits to St. John’s College had always been welcome because while he set an example of deep reverence when dealing with things sacred, he could readily adapt himself to the fun-loving propensities of the boys and with wholesome wit and anecdote stir them up to laughter.

Reference has been made to his wide range of knowledge, but he never made or created an excuse for the purpose of displaying his learning, and on the rare occasions when he used a Greek or Latin quotation it was where it would be pardonable to suppose that those who heard would understand, and, at any rate, would be pleased to have it assumed that they did.

In saying these kind things about the late Canon, there is no intention to make out that he was a saint of the perfect kind. He was certainly a very good man; but only encouragingly so, and not of the kind with which a certain Methodist congregation would appear to have been afflicted three times in succession, when in writing to headquarters re next preacher to be appointed they wrote,—“You have now sent us three perfect men, please next time send us a sinner.”

In 1891 the writer who had been six years in charge of Poplar Point, High Bluff and some other adjacent centres, proposed to Bishop Machray that he should be allowed to move into Portage la Prairie for the sake of educational advantages, and continue to work the three centres, High Bluff, Dale and Oakville with the addition of Salem. While the Bishop was sympathetic he did not care to establish the precedent of a clergyman living outside of his parish, and he also foresaw a difficulty about salary. On mentioning the matter to Canon Macmorine his adventurous sympathy led him to seek some solution of the difficulty. “Let me see,” he said, and forthwith went right into the matter. Being a Rural Dean and a member of the Executive Committee of the Synod, he used his influence to help “rough-hew” the ends of that administrative body. The result of it all was, that on his return from the next monthly meeting he came to me rubbing his hands gleefully and saying, “We’ve got all that fixed”; then he proceeded to tell my wife and me how the precedent difficulty had been surmounted—he had resigned St. Mary’s Chapel in my favour; and the salary difficulty had been surmounted by forming a new Mission which was to be called High Bluff, and to be placed in my charge and to receive an annual grant of three hundred and fifty dollars from the Home Mission Fund; and further, he was going to have me take his place in providing the Anglican Church services at the Home for Incurables and the Boys’ Industrial School, and when he added up the known and prospective guarantees from these various sources, and it was found that the total exceeded that received at my previous appointment, his satisfaction seemed to be quite equal to my own, and all the time he seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that in giving up the services at the Government Institutions it was practically taking off $250.00 from his income and adding it to mine. Wonder not then if I feel disposed to quote again, saying of Canon Macmorine what the old-timer said of Archdeacon Cochrane: “Ah, but there’ll never be the likes of him again.”

In describing the Archdeacon’s ministry at Portage la Prairie the writer casually mentioned some sort of social distinction existing in the community at the early stage of its history, and the fact that such could be the case under conditions prevailing then, supports the opinion that absolute social equality under the present state is only the dreams of visionaries. The distinction just referred to is difficult to define; but there was from the start a class who like Archdeacon Cochrane himself were agriculturally inclined, and who felt more comfortable sitting up to a table when taking their food; then there were the nomadically inclined who could take just as much or more comfort sitting cross-legged on the floor. When Mr. Macmorine took charge, these latter were settled along the river at or near University or other land-grants, and by dealing in the wood and hay grown thereon succeeded in making a living, but they were poor except in children, and although literally or physically they may have risen from the floor to the chair, they were sensitively inclined to regard the Church as having risen more than correspondingly in a social respect until they imagined they were no longer “in it.” Of course, their situation did not fail to present a strong plea to the sympathetic nature of Canon Macmorine. It prompted him to build a pleasant little chapel which would be easy of access, and which they could call their own; and he made it a benefit not only to the adults, but to the children also for by means of a small grant from the Executive Committee and a little help from the Government, he was able to have a day school held there. The teacher was a Mr. Treilhard, son-in-law of the first school teacher in Portage la Prairie.

Some time before I took charge, this school had been closed, and the ferry which had been the means of crossing the river and was quite near the chapel had ceased to be run, and had been replaced by a traffic bridge which was over a mile upstream, making the chapel not much easier of access than the Church in town, and rendering the prospect of successful work in connexion with the chapel less promising than ever it had been since its inception. Still, the services down there were to me intensely interesting, for nearby had stood the Church where nearly fifty years before, as a child, I had gone to worship, and after having, as one might say, wandered in the wilderness for forty years, meeting some of my old fellow-worshippers here and there—in McKenzie River, Athabasca, Peace River and Saskatchewan districts—here I was in the Providence of God back to where I had been given a good start, and before me some of the few left, and the children of others, who had worshipped with me in the first Church, and I felt that we might fittingly sing together as we did:

“No spot on earth should be more sacred to me than this. On approaching it one might well be reminded of God’s words to Moses: ‘Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.’ It was a very happy thought that the place which was the scene of much of Archdeacon Cochrane’s labours should be marked in some manner; and what more fitting monument could there be of the Church which he planted in Portage la Prairie, than a place of worship such as is provided in this neat little chapel. If Jacob, waking from his sacred dream could say, ‘This is none other than the House of God and this is the gate of Heaven,’ surely we may say so of the place where Archdeacon Cochrane and his scholarly son worked in Christ’s service amongst us and our friends; where, too, the Rev. Henry George showed us during his faithful pastorate, that to be a Christian is to be true and honourable. I desire nothing better than that my voice and work here may be a distinct echo of what the lives of those so clearly proclaimed in the hearing of some of us who are here today, and of many who are elsewhere, some of them finishing their pilgrimage in some other part of this world, and some of them gone to another. I can easily recall that scene in the old St. Mary’s Church that stood hard by—the substantial unpainted pews, the high white pulpits and the simple unvarnished character of the whole place. I seem to see once more the devout worshippers, made up chiefly of the few large families of those early times—the Whitfords, the Andersons, the Spences, the Hodgsons, the Cummings, the Hendersons, the Birds, the Garriochs, and others. Somehow it does not seem so very long ago since we worshipped God along with them; and now as we worship God here, they are with us again, at least in spirit, as we are with them; and in reality we are separated only for a little while. They rest from their labours, let us patiently and cheerfully continue ours, and when we too are called to our rest, may we be permitted to rejoin them, and in the Church of the Redeemed above unite again in the service and praise of God.”

In the chapel was about the smallest organ I have ever seen; but the music that came out of it showed no defect either in volume or expression, for we were fortunate in our organist, Mr. Ramez, then, as now, an active member of St. Mary’s, and he played the little organ with good taste, was regular in attendance and gave his services free. And on several occasions we had a musical treat when Miss Hughes, Miss Blackford and Miss Redmond, and Messrs. Hughes, Williams and Blackford came down and assisted us.

In the spring of 1905 the chapel services were closed, and the writer soon after retired from active service, and I once more became a member of St. Mary’s congregation. I found that the service had undergone considerable change from what it was in my earlier days, and the change did not appeal any more to me than it did to some other members of the congregation. All the changes had been made in Canon Macmorine’s time. They were as follows: Placing a cross on the altar, introduction of the surpliced choir, the processional, chanting the psalms, choral communion, eastward position, invocation before sermon and distinctive colours to suit the Church seasons. We tried to persuade the high church party to leave the church as they found it—low; but they kept right on, and as there was no help for it we had to broaden out and become like them—high, and we have stayed there ever since, and perhaps as nearly all the evangelical churches have become about as high as Canon Macmorine was, it might have been just as well if we had silently if not cheerfully submitted to the aforenamed changes when they were being introduced one after the other, nevertheless, who can tell? And our plea for moderation was surely not dishonouring to those who had trained us in the ways of the church. On one occasion the writer was discussing this question in a friendly way with Canon Macmorine when he put the question to me: “Do you think, Mr. Garrioch, that the service you used to have from Archdeacon Cochrane would do now?” and I had to admit that reasonable changes were in order, for the question had conjured up a vision. Again I saw the stately form of Archdeacon Cochrane standing erect in the lofty white pulpit in the right hand corner of the old log church, and facing the congregation with that never-to-be-forgotten expression on his face as he raised his arms to fasten his stock behind, the preliminary to announcing the opening hymn.

The beautiful stone Church built by the congregation under Canon Macmorine does credit to his taste, nevertheless the unusual height of the roof set on comparatively low walls, led some friendly critic who was poorly versed in ecclesiastical architecture to describe it as a steep roof set upon the ground. Its seating capacity is two hundred and fifty. After the opening service Bishop Machray remarked to the Canon, “It is a beautiful church Canon Macmorine; but don’t you think you have made it too small?” His Grace’s question was justified, for on various occasions it has been found too small; and unfortunately owing to the style of the building and the material, no enlargement could be made without great expense.

Canon Macmorine’s strict views of good Churchmanship did not in the least interfere with a generous conception of Christian brotherhood, and any of the Churches whose records of Christly service are not to be doubted could always count on the Canon’s sympathy and good wishes; hence his popularity with the members of the other Churches of Portage la Prairie. At the opening of the Portage Collegiate in 1908, the chair was occupied by Postmaster Miller, a member of the School Board, and a staunch Presbyterian, and when announcing Canon Macmorine as the next speaker, he said: “He needs no introduction. We all know the Canon, and we love him.”

Canon Macmorine resigned charge of the parish early in 1909. At the time neither his years nor his health precluded the hope that there were still many years of usefulness before him; but he was suddenly prostrated with an attack of appendicitis, and although promptly operated upon he died a few days afterwards.

A few Sundays before his death he preached on the text, “My times are in Thy hands,” and his remarks were touchingly in the child-like spirit of Cardinal Newman’s beautiful hymn:

When his death became known on all sides were to be heard expressions of sorrow. His funeral was conducted by Archbishop Matheson, and his body was laid to rest in the River Church cemetery amongst those of the parishioners resting in that peaceful God’s acre. The congregation fittingly expressed its appreciation of his service of love, by placing in the chancel as a memorial of his pastorate a beautifully carved oak Communion table and Reredos and two chairs to match, of the same material.

Canon Macmorine’s death occurred shortly after his resignation, and was followed by an interval of nearly four months, during which the Sunday services were mostly conducted by Rev. W. A. Fyles, at the time superintendent of Sunday Schools, and a resident in the city.

The minute book of the parish shows that the parishioners promptly took steps to find a suitable successor to Canon Macmorine. With this object in view a meeting was called early as March 1st, when a Nominating Committee was appointed, comprising Colonel Anstruther, Mr. J. O. Cadham and W. S. Garrioch. This committee was instructed to communicate with His Grace Archbishop Matheson, and later to report to the congregation. Accordingly a second meeting was called on March 15, when names of clergymen recommended by the Archbishop were submitted to the meeting. Acting on the advice of His Grace, the committee of three was increased to seven. When the Easter meeting was held April 12th, the committee reported in favour of Rev. J. I. Strong of St. Agnes, Carberry; but as some desired further enquiries to be made about some other of the nominees, a decision was deferred to a future meeting. This was held on the twentieth, and when it was found that the committee still adhered to their decision, the meeting concurred in it; and so in June, 1909, Rev. J. I. Strong was appointed by Archbishop Matheson to the Rectorship of St. Mary’s.

J. I. Strong was born at St. Columbin Co., Two Mountains, P.Q., May 3, 1869; and his education was commenced at the public school of an adjoining district. Later he studied at the La Chute Academy, and matriculating there passed on to the McGill University where he studied for five years, taking at the same time a divinity course in the Diocesan Theological College of Montreal. He was ordained Deacon in May, 1893, and admitted to priest’s orders in June, 1894. From September, 1893, to May, 1898, he was assistant to Venerable Archdeacon Lindsay at St. Luke’s, Waterloo, P.Q. June 1898, to May, 1907, Rector of St. James, Ornestown, Mon. Diocese. May, 1907, to October, 1907, Incumbent at St. Paul’s, Shoal Lake, Diocese of Rupert’s Land. October, 1907, to June, 1909, Rector of St. Agnes’, Carberry, Rupert’s Land. June, 1909, to April, 1911, Rector of St. Mary’s, Portage la Prairie, Rupert’s Land. May, 1911, to the present time (1922), Rector of St. Alban’s, Pro-Cathedral, Prince Albert, Diocese of Saskatchewan.

Rev. J. I. Strong’s short pastorate of St. Mary’s followed a progressive period in the history of Portage la Prairie. Incorporated as a town in 1880, it acquired the status of a city in 1907, and at the latter date had a population of 6,609. The installing of the waterworks in 1905-06, and the location of the Grand Trunk Railway yards just west of the city, in connection with construction work in progress, had helped to make times good both in trade and labour, and generally to brighten the outlook. And judging from the annual Easter report the parishioners of St. Mary’s enjoyed their share of prosperity, and expressed their appreciation of the same in their manner of supporting the work of the church. The report for the year ending March 31, 1910, shows that the receipts amounted to $4,932.20, of which $486.16 was the amount of the Synod collections. In response to Mr. Strong’s request the Sunday School and Rectory had been put in good repair, and a sleeping balcony built on to the latter. An item of $620.27 in the forenamed account would likely represent the total cost of these improvements. During his Incumbency nothing further was undertaken in the way of building, although the moving of the River Church to some site in the eastern part of the city was under serious contemplation; and minutes of meetings held December 6 and December 20, 1910, would seem to show that the only reason why such intention was not carried out was due to the difficulty of finding a desirable site at a reasonable figure. The minutes also show that had the aforenamed plan been carried out the Executive Committee would have supported the proposed Chapel of ease by an annual grant of $350.

It was in the last month of Mr. Strong’s pastorate, April, 1911, that the duplex envelope was introduced, and from the financial point of view has proved a decided advantage. And in other respects doubtless the parishioners gave Mr. Strong credit for directing the work of the Church faithfully and well. He was also regarded as living well up to his name in the pulpit, while his energy gave fresh impetus to the work in the Sunday School, and greatly strengthened the hands of Mr. H. J. Hughes who, for so long a time, and so faithfully and well, has devoted his time and talents to that most important branch of Church work.

In reviewing the work at the Easter meeting, 1910, when he had been ten months in charge, Mr. Strong said that he considered that it had been successful spiritually as well as financially, for which he thanked the members of the congregation. There had been good attendance at the services, and good work had been done in the Sunday School. He also thanked the congregation for their kind remembrances of Mrs. Strong and himself on Easter Day. He stated that there were two hundred and forty families besides a good many young people on the visiting list, and that during the ten months there had been fifty-eight baptisms, fifteen marriages and sixteen funerals. He closed by hoping that the same cheerful co-operation and good feeling which had been characteristic of their relations in the past, would remain unchanged during the days to come. The Sunday School report for the same year showed that there were thirteen teachers, two officers and one hundred and fifty-five scholars.

It was ten months later—February 4, 1911—that the parishioners met to consider Mr. Strong’s resignation, contained in a letter to the wardens, which read as follows:

St. Mary’s Rectory,

February 4th, 1911.

“To the Church Wardens of St. Mary’s.

Dear Sirs:

Having received the offer of St. Alban’s Pro-Cathedral, Prince Albert, Diocese of Saskatchewan, I beg to tender my resignation of St. Mary’s to accept said rectorship.

I have not, as you are aware, come to this decision quickly, but have considered the question very earnestly, and I hope that the decision arrived at is a right one in the sight of God and for the welfare of this Church, and that neither St. Mary’s nor the parish I am accepting will suffer loss.

I am, Dear Sirs,

Your very sincerely,

J. I. Strong.”

In the matter of conducting Church services Mr. Strong wisely left things just as he found them, save in the small particular, that instead of saying the final prayer in the vestry with the choir, he said it at the door opening into the passage leading to the vestry, he and the choir pausing there while he said it.

At a meeting of the congregation held March 21st, 1911, six months after Mr. Strong’s resignation, a committee of the parishioners that had been elected to nominate his successor, reported that Rev. D. T. Parker, then Incumbent at Elgin, was their unanimous choice. As the Wardens had learned that Revs. D. T. Parker and J. I. Strong were old acquaintances, they requested the latter to give the meeting some information about the nominee of the committee. Mr. Strong after expressing some reluctance, complied, and assured the meeting that the choice of their committee was a wise one. On a vote being taken the meeting was found to unanimously concur in this view, and his appointment to the Rectorship of St. Mary’s shortly followed, a position in which he has served from that time to the present with continuous success and acceptability, while Rev. J. I. Strong moved on to the higher latitude of St. Alban’s Pro-Cathedral where for years he has been Rural Dean of the Rural Deanery of Prince Albert.

Rev. Canon D. T. Parker was born of Irish parentage on March 17th, 1875, in Trinity Parish, Lakefield, Province of Quebec. He prepared for the University at Lachute Academy, graduating in Arts from McGill University in 1902. He graduated from the Montreal Diocesan Theological College in 1904 and was ordained to the Dioconate in Christ Church Cathedral, Montreal, on Trinity Sunday, 1904, by Archbishop Bond and Bishop Carmichael; and was priested in December of the same year. His first charge was that of assistant to Venerable Archdeacon Naylor, in the Parish of Claredon, in the Diocese of Montreal. In July of the following year he came West to take charge of the Parish of Shoal Lake, in the Diocese of Rupert’s Land. In April, 1907, he accepted the position of Curate in Holy Trinity Church, Winnipeg, remaining there for two years until accepting the Rectorship of the Parish of St. John’s, Elgin, in March, 1909. In September of the following year he married Miss Alice Schmidt, B.A., oldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt. Mr. Schmidt, lately deceased, was Swedish vice-consul in Winnipeg.

In April, 1911, Mr. Parker accepted the offer of the Rectorship of St. Mary’s Church, Portage la Prairie, and on the 30th of the month took charge of the services for the first time. On May 2nd he presided at a meeting of the Vestry, which was at that time composed of the following members, viz.: Minister’s Warden, Mr. W. S. Garrioch; People’s Warden, Mr. J. Hoover Lawrence; Vestrymen, Messrs. J. O. Cadham, J. O’Reilley, R. Brooker, Sam Thomson, George Garnier, Stratton Whitaker, S. Bonny, W. G. Bedman and H. J. Hughes.

When Mr. Parker took charge the building used as a Sunday School and for business and social purposes was composed of the transepts and chancel of the previous church, constructed in the form of a T, by joining the transepts and placing the chancel against the west wall opening inwards at the middle of the building. Mr. Hughes was superintendent of the Sunday School, and the other organizations were the Ladies’ Aid, Women’s Auxiliary, Girls’ W. A., and the Brotherhood of St. Andrew. The finances of the parish were in a good condition; all running expenses were being met, and the mortgage on the stone church had been reduced to two thousand, five hundred dollars. However, it was felt that there should be a more systematic and reliable method of meeting the necessary annual expenses, and to this end the beginning previously made in the use of the duplex envelope was followed up with energy, careful preparation being made for an every man canvass; and after a visit from Mr. R. W. Allin this canvass was carried out with splendid results. The offerings for current expenses and Missions were more than doubled; and the results obtained continuously since the inception of the system have been thoroughly satisfactory. The parishioners were, however, not so absorbed in the monetary affairs of their church as to overlook the spiritual and better part, and immediately after the financial progress of 1911, there followed careful preparation for the Mission of Help which was held in October, 1912. The Missioner, the late Dr. Robinson, Warden of St. John’s College, is still reverently remembered by those who had the privilege of attending that Mission. That year was also noted for a number of beautiful memorials placed in the Church, and among them a sterling silver communion set, offertory plate and alms basin, donated by several parishioners as memorials of loved ones deceased, each piece being inscribed accordingly. In that same year there was much discussion over the condition of the parsonage, resulting in the decision to build a new one in 1913. However, in the meantime the Sunday School so outgrew the capacity of the parish hall, that the primary department, consisting of about sixty-five children under the superintendency of Mrs. Parker, was transferred to the rectory drawing room. This change in conditions naturally suggested a change in the building programme—either to build a new parish hall first, as more urgently needed, or to build both a hall and a rectory at the same time. At a meeting of the congregation called to discuss the matter, the most adventurous of the parishioners hardly went so far as to favour the erection of the two buildings simultaneously or in the near future, and on the other hand the more cautious, including some who had had to do with rocks and shoals in the financing of the parish in the past, were not opposed to building, providing the means of defraying the cost could be satisfactorily arranged. Mr. Parker favoured the Rectory scheme remaining in abeyance while the more urgent need of the church was being provided, and doubtless his example very considerably influenced the parishioners in entirely endorsing the project of a new Parish Hall. Plans and estimates were submitted by Messrs. Bedman and Oborne at a subsequent meeting, and when details had been satisfactorily arranged the supervision of the work was entrusted to Mr. Oborne.

A canvass was made of the parish and about $8,000 was secured in cash and notes. As the old parish hall occupied the ground needed for the new one it was sold to the school board for $300, and was at once moved to the East Ward School, to which it has ever since served as an annex. The first sod for the new Parish Hall was turned on the 12th July, 1913, and in August the corner stone was laid by His Grace Archbishop Matheson, assisted by the local Masonic lodge. The building was finished in the early winter and the primary department of the Sunday School moved into it on November 23rd, and two weeks later, Sunday, 7th December, the Main School did so also—they having used the basement of the T. A. Garland store, just across the street, while the hall was being erected.

The Parish Hall and furnishings cost $17,000, and the parish had met this mainly by means of a $15,000 mortgage placed on all the Church property, it being expected that this would be paid off as quickly as the parishioners’ notes fell due. However, the year 1914 was one of general financial depression, which, together with the outbreak of the World War, made it impossible to realize to any great extent on these notes, and the general feeling of uncertainty and unrest due to foregoing causes made the situation serious enough; but the whole congregation with splendid faith and courage were resolved that, Deo favente, they would accomplish what they had planned. To this end overdrafts in the local banks were first disposed of, and then the mortgage was taken in hand to such good purpose, that in the beginning of this year (1922) the total indebtedness of the parish did not exceed $7,000, and it is hoped that within three years the parish will be free of debt. With the Parish Hall to pay for the congregation of St. Mary’s was not likely for sentimental reasons to turn down any honest way of making $100, so on March 13th, 1916, the chapel built by Canon Macmorine was sold—all except the bell—for that amount, and the purchaser pulled it down and carted it away.

During the trying years of the war one hundred and five enlisted from St. Mary’s, of whom twenty paid the supreme sacrifice. A suitable honour roll, bearing the names of all these is placed in the church. During the decade following 1911 the congregation has not greatly increased in numbers, due, no doubt, to the small growth of the city as a whole. The last religious census showed the Anglican population to be about eleven hundred with the Methodists and Presbyterians slightly in advance. The Sunday School in all departments numbers two hundred and fifty, and a fine work is being done by its staff of thirty-five teachers and officers under the supervision of Mr. H. J. Hughes. Besides the Church organizations already mentioned there has been for years the Men’s Club, and recently a Girls’ Club was formed. The value of the services rendered by these various organizations is believed to be commensurate with their increase in number and their aggregate increase in membership, and there can be no question that their existence and effectiveness are vastly aided by the suitableness of the Parish Hall which they daily utilize, making it a busy centre of church activity and social development. During the decade two hundred and fifty candidates have been presented for confirmation, and on the other hand though the congregation has sustained loss through removals and deaths, this has been made up by other faithful workers being raised up to fill their places.

The total revenue of the parish has steadily increased from $5,560 in 1912 to $8,804 in 1921. Nearly every winter during the above period the seating capacity of the church has for a few months proved inadequate for the evening congregation, and in consequence that service has been held in the auditorium of the Parish Hall, of which the seating capacity is five hundred, or double that of the church. In 1920 Archbishop Matheson bestowed on Rev. D. T. Parker a well merited honour, appointing him an honorary Canon of St. John’s Cathedral an honour probably as gratifying to his people as to himself; for the pleasant relations between them which commenced with their first acquaintance, have never undergone any adverse change, each in his or her place esteeming it their honour to work in that greatest of all organizations—the Church, whereby men and women make vital connection with the eternal and the Divine; and doubtless the recollection of the humble and faithful services rendered by those who were connected with St. Mary’s Church in the past will furnish to its present as well as its future members strong incentives to persevere in the duties of their high calling.

BAPTISTS

SUNDAY SCHOOL SUPERINTENDENTS

During the period of forty-one years commencing with the pastorate of Rev. A. C. Turner in 1881, its membership has increased from five to one hundred and ninety-five, and the attendance at Sunday School has grown to one hundred and three. The first Church was a frame building and stood on the west side of Campbell Street, S.E. Its seating capacity was one hundred and fifty. The next Church was the present one, a handsome brick structure corner of Campbell Street and Duke Avenue. Its seating capacity is six hundred. Until 1890 the congregation was assisted with a grant from the Mission Board, but in that year it became self-supporting, and last year its revenue amounted to $3,542.91, of which $497.90 was devoted to Missions.

PRESBYTERIANISM

The Rev. Mr. Fletcher, who arrived from Ontario shortly after the McBeans and McLeans in 1862, was the first to hold Presbyterian services in this district. In 1867 the work was taken up by Rev. Alexander Matheson. In 1873 the congregation was regularly organized with Messrs. Roderick McLeod and James O. Fraser as elders. In 1874 Rev. Allen Bell was called and inducted. He remained in charge for thirteen years. He was succeeded by Rev. Peter Wright, D.D., who remained in charge from 1888 to 1899. Mr. Wright was succeeded by Rev. George Arnold who remained from 1900 to 1904. Next came Rev. Thurlow Fraser, D.D., who was in charge from 1905 to 1912. Rev. G. Watt Smith ministered from 1912 to 1917, and the present minister, Rev. P. E. Scott, D.D., was inducted in 1918. The first Sunday School superintendent was Mr. W. W. Millar, who held office for over thirty years. He was succeeded by Mr. W. H. Thomson, who held office till 1920. Since Mr. Thomson’s removal to Regina the work has been taken up by Mr. W. S. Young.

In 1921 the membership roll was four hundred and ninety-nine, and the Sunday School enrolment three hundred and six. The first Church was small and too far east. The next was more central, being only a little south of the present Bank of Montreal. The next stood on the present site of the Roman Catholic convent, corner of Dufferin and Campbell. Then they built a church on the site of the present post office, and finally they erected the present commodious and substantial brick structure on Tupper Street, near Saskatchewan Avenue. From the very first the church was almost entirely self-supporting. Missionary, educational and benevolent objects receive about one-third of the revenue of the congregation. The local needs call for about nine thousand annually.

DISCIPLE CHURCH

On September 25th, 1871, a few families met at the home of John Connor, Crescent Road, W., to worship according to the simple manner of this denomination, and from that time until the summer of 1882 they continued to meet and worship in the homes of the members. In 1882 Rev. A. Scott was engaged as pastor, and the Church was organized with eleven members, and began to meet in the Orange Hall. In 1882-83 they built their first church on the corner of Lorne Avenue and Ninth Street, N.W. This was a wooden building and had a seating capacity of one hundred and seventy-five. In 1894 they purchased the Congregational Church on Ann Street, S., as it was more central. This too was a frame building and the seating capacity of it was about two hundred. The present Church is on Ann Street, opposite St. Mary’s Church. It is a handsome brick and stone structure. It was erected in 1902-03 and has a seating capacity of four hundred.

During the forty years since the church was organized it has been served by the following pastors:

The church has always been self-supporting. The Sunday School was organized in 1871. The following have been superintendents: Mr. Thomas Sissons, 1872-92; Rev. A. L. Finch, 1892-94; Miss Agnes Yuill; Miss T. Green, Mrs. Weir and Mr. A. A. Armstrong. At the present time the Sunday School enrolment is about two hundred and forty, and the membership of the church about two hundred and twenty. During the last church year they raised $5,362.04 for all purposes, of which $1,307.20 was devoted to Missionary and other benevolent objects.

THE METHODIST CHURCH

The Methodist Church was established in Portage la Prairie in 1872. The following is a list of the ministers who held office:

Rev. Michael Fawcett, 1872; Rev. Wm. Halstead, 1876; Rev. J. Hewit, 1879; Rev. James Woodsworth, 1882; Mr. Dimmick, M.E., 1882; Rev. Creighton, M.E., 1884; Rev. A. W. Ross, commenced in 1892; Rev. Geo. Deane, about 1895; Rev. Stacey, 1901-03; Rev. W. L. Armstrong, 1903-06; Rev. A. E. Smith, 1909-12; Rev. W. E. Flatt, 1912-16; Rev. J. W. Churchill, 1916-19; Rev. R. A. Scarlet, 1919 to present time. After the union of the Methodist Episcopal and Wesleyan Methodists in 1884 Rev. W. L. Rutledge took charge in 1885, J. M. Harrison in 1887 and Geo. Daniels in 1890.

During the foregoing period the following in succession filled the position of Sunday School superintendent, viz.: Mr. Thos. Logan, Mr. Hugh Harley, Mr. Thos. Silverthorn, Mr. H. W. Baker, Mr. W. L. Puckering, Mr. J. F. Walker, Mr. O. A. Ditchfield and Mr. James McKenzie.

A parsonage was built in 1873 on Crescent Road, on the present site of the Rushbrook Gardens, and services were held in the parlour. On the same grounds a church was built in 1874. This church was sold after a few years, and during the pastorate of Mr. Hewit a larger one was built on Tupper Street, on the site now occupied by the Presbyterian Church. This church was also sold after a few years and a larger one put up on Saskatchewan Avenue, which stands and is known today as Pratt’s Block. It is two storey, the under was divided into stores and the upper left undivided so as to answer as church or hall. The stores were not very good revenue producers, and in 1887 there was a foreclosure of the mortgage, after which the hall was converted into a popular institution long known as the Pratt Opera House, until about three years ago when it was condemned as unsafe. In 1888 the fourth church was built on the site of the present one on Campbell Street, N. This was partly burned down about Christmas, 1890. Soon after it was decided to rebuild on the same site, and the corner stone of the present church was laid in 1891. During the pastorate of Mr. Ross the financial affairs of the church were in an extremely critical condition, and later temporary relief was obtained by securing an increased mortgage, which included the old and amounted to $13,160. After enlarging the church and installing a pipe organ the debt for a time stood at $22,000. Among other means employed for wiping off the indebtedness was the life insurance plan. The church insured the lives of seven young men on a twenty-five year term for one thousand dollars each. This envolved the payment of premiums amounting to $3,659.90, on which was realized in 1922 policies amounting to $10,574.05. At a banquet given in the church, Monday, March 13, 1922, the burning of the mortgage was witnessed by three hundred guests, and from the remarks of various speakers on that occasion it was evident that credit for the pleasant culmination in the debt-paying campaign was largely due to the initiative of Rev. J. W. Churchill, and to the support of an energetic Ladies’ Aid, enjoyed first by himself and then by his successor, Rev. R. A. Scarlet, during whose ministry the undertaking was brought to a successful issue. The first ministers received their salary of three hundred dollars from Mission headquarters, but in 1880 the congregation became self-supporting. The seating capacity exceeds that of any church in the city. Its membership of about twenty-five in 1872 has increased to four hundred and fifty-five, and its Sunday School enrolment then twenty is now three hundred and seventy-five. The annual revenue of the church is $14,500, of this $900 is given to Missions and the balance of $12,600 is expended in connection with its local undertakings.

SALVATION ARMY

When the Salvation Army began work in Portage la Prairie in July, 1888, under the leadership of officers Captain L. Cowan and Lieutenant Akenhead they were without any following; but their military methods attracted attention, and they were not long without the nucleus of a corps; and on the blank roll with which they commenced thirty-four years ago they are able today to write fifty-six soldiers, four recruits and one hundred Sunday School pupils. The following is a list of the Sunday School superintendents:

Their first barracks stood on the same site as the present one. It was a frame building, with a seating capacity of two hundred. The present structure is a solid brick one, and has a slightly larger seating capacity. From the first all expenses in the way of salaries and maintenance of the corps have been more than met within the city.

There are four elementary schools in Portage la Prairie, viz.: Victoria or East Ward, Central, West Ward and North, in which the total enrolment of pupils is one thousand and sixty. There is also a Collegiate Institute which was erected in 1904. Though a commodious building, in a few years the accommodation provided proved inadequate, and in 1920 four large class rooms were added, also well equipped Domestic Science and Manual training departments. The Collegiate now has a staff of fourteen teachers, with specialists in all departments. There is an average attendance of about four hundred, and the largest class of first year University students outside of the University, in the Province.

PRINCIPALS SINCE 1904

1904-1909, Mr. George Young; 1909-1913, Mr. S. Carson Lee; 1913 to present, Mr. J. R. Hamilton.

The upkeep of the Collegiate Institute and Elementary Schools for the year 1921 amounted to $70,907.69.

In passing from the foregoing brief review of the Churches and schools of Portage la Prairie to a like brief account of the Government aided institutions of the place, it will be readily conceived that the initial outlay involved in the construction of these institutions was very large, and when there is added to this the annual revenues that have had to be forthcoming in order that these institutions might properly fulfil the purposes for which they were called into existence, we arrive at a total that speaks eloquently of a community very generally determined to go forward in the right direction, and whose conceptions of civilization are, a wise mode of living to which churches and schools contribute more than anything else.

THE COURT HOUSE AND JAIL

These two buildings adjoin and occupy with their grounds an entire block close to the corner of Saskatchewan Avenue and Main Street, in the S.E. part of the city. The court house is a fine brick and stone building facing on Main Street. There it stands presenting a fine spectacle of the majesty of the law, that cannot fail to inspire the law-abiding citizen with a feeling of security, while to all others it is a silent and dignified protest against a life of transgression.

THE GENERAL HOSPITAL

This institution is at 524 Broadway, only about three hundred yards south and east of the court house. It is really in part the first court house standing on the original site, where it was skilfully adapted to hospital purposes. With substantial additions since made, it has been increased to much more than double its original capacity. It has the usual equipment of a modern hospital, and, with a staff of twenty-three nurses and probationers, is quite equal to the requirements of the city, as well as a large area of the surrounding country. It receives an annual Government grant of approximately $2,000, with additional allowances for important improvements.

THE BOYS’ TRAINING SCHOOL

This institution stands about one hundred steps from the hospital, and about the same distance from Crescent Lake. The main training school building, where live over one hundred boys with the necessary staff of attendants, is an imposing piece of architecture; but there are other large and important buildings in the vicinity which go to make up the complement needed in connection with the education and training of these boys. Thus, a large separate building has been provided, where there is ample space for using the grades and curriculum in vogue in the public schools of the Province, as well as for teaching such trades as shoemaking, carpentering, blacksmithing and tailoring. Then there are large stables and out-buildings in connection with the operating of a farm of several hundreds of acres, in which all the older boys take part. On the whole the establishment presents an appearance that eloquently expresses the paternal interest of the State in the welfare of its less fortunate children, to whom it thus seeks to give—to many perhaps their first chance—and to others it may be a second or even a third chance to make good.

HOME FOR INCURABLES AND OTHER KINDRED INSTITUTIONS OPERATED IN CONJUNCTION THEREWITH

These are situated on Main Street, at the extreme north of the city. In the first named one hundred and thirty-four afflicted people are being cared for; and in the Old Folks’ Home, which adjoins the former, ninety-four others are made comfortable for the small charge of fifty cents per diem so long as they or their friends are able to pay. About one hundred yards further north is the Custodial Home for Feeble-minded Children, which provides shelter for fifty-eight of these unfortunates.

POST OFFICE

This structure is of stone built in a pleasing style, and is centrally situated on the corner of Saskatchewan Avenue and Campbell Street.

PRESBYTERIAN INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL FOR INDIAN CHILDREN

This institution of which mention has already been made, stands on the shore of the lake in the extreme west of the city.

The architectural features of nearly everyone of these structures are good, and their imposing appearance, and the beautifully kept grounds by which they are mostly surrounded adds very considerably to the attractiveness of the city, and any visitors who will extend their sight-seeing to these beauty spots, will be sure to carry away the impression that Portage la Prairie is some place in particular.

As may be supposed the upkeep of these various establishments involves the annual expenditure of many thousands of dollars, and materially helps to make business good and to benefit the citizens in general.

One naturally asks why a town situated in one of the most fertile districts of the whole Dominion, and possessing such ideal railway facilities should not have made more rapid progress. This is one of those things hard to be understood. By some it is attributed to its nearness to Winnipeg. Most people, however, believe that the cause is to be found in bad luck and bad management. It was certainly anything but good luck that the boom of 1880-81 should have been coincident with the incorporation of Portage la Prairie as a town, bringing about the abnormal conditions which spelt disaster to many as well as the loss of a reputation for good management. During the years immediately following the boom the town debt grew much faster than the population. One serious addition to the town’s liabilities was caused by a bonus of $100,000, that it contracted to pay the Manitoba and North-Western Railway Company, in consideration of which the said company on its part was to locate its repair shops in Portage for all time. Some time after two instalments of $25,000 each had been paid, complications began to set in, and when the C.P.R. acquired the M and N line they refused to assume the obligations of the previous owners in the matter of the shops, and taking advantage of their right to do so they unceremoniously closed down the shops, disregarding alike the protests and the interests of the citizens. Six years after incorporation the town was growing weary of being pressed by creditors, and at last matters were brought to a crisis when at this time some of these creditors aired their grievances in the courts and secured judgments against the town, in all exceeding $16,000. Portage at that time had among its lawyers a young man by the name of Joseph Martin, then just budding forth as the legal and political celebrity that he afterwards became. Taking Mr. Martin’s advice—said to have been given without charge—the council resigned in a body, thereby leaving the sheriff without any responsible party upon whom he could serve a writ. While temporary relief may have thus been secured many of the citizens did not hesitate to pronounce the action taken thoroughly discreditable, and very soon it looked as if it had been a case of jumping from the frying pan into the fire. It was on August 18, 1886, that the council resigned, and four months later—December 13, 1886—the fire hall was burned to the ground and this was but the beginning of a series of acts of incendiarism covering a period of about eight months, during which the greater part of the town was destroyed.

In 1887 the Liberals came into power when Mr. Thomas Greenway became prime minister and Mr. Joseph Martin attorney-general. Under the circumstances the latter would probably feel disposed to counteract in some measure the effect of his advice to the Council of Portage la Prairie to resign in a body. At anyrate he got the chance. The citizens asked the Government to appoint a commission to ascertain the town’s liabilities up to date. This was done and the liabilities placed at $236,757.46. With mayor and council once more in office and a good understanding with creditors, prospects had certainly improved; yet they could not be very bright so long as the citizens nightly dreaded that their homes might be burnt over their heads, a not unreasonable fear as acts of incendiarism continued frequent as ever for another six months. At the end of that time the fire bugs were discovered. On June 5, 1888, James Whyte and Sam Mick were brought before Judge Ryan for trial, the former charged with having offered David Drain pay to burn the Hudson’s Bay Hotel, the Rosin House and the Post Office, the latter with having personally applied the torch to certain of the places that had been burned. According to his own showing he was guilty, and he was sentenced to five years in the penitentiary. While it was plain enough that he was only a tool of the other party accused, Whyte was let off, the court being unable to decide from the evidence whether he was drunk or not when he used the language that instigated the other to commit crime. How things have changed. Most people find it difficult in these days to substantiate a plea of having been surcharged with spirits, and if even at a considerable cost one had succeeded in obtaining the wet goods, the advantage would be nil, of putting forward such a plea either in a court of law or any other respectable place. Soon as the trial was over a citizen who was probably well posted, approached Whyte and told him that the best thing he could do for himself was to clear out of town immediately. He had likely come to the same conclusion, and the same day he left for the United States.

Until 1887-88 most of the business places were on Main Street, S., but when they were one after the other wiped out by fire, their owners when rebuilding gave preference to Saskatchewan Avenue, which follows the old cart trail of the buffalo hunters. This street is better suited to be the business centre of the city, and it was due to the fires that the transfer of the business was so expeditious and complete.

After the fire bugs had been disposed of, and while the damage they had done was being repaired, the citizens settled down to a season of comparative restfulness, and jogged along in a quiet, old-fashioned way until the year 1905. Then a few ultra-progressive citizens became restless and began to prod the other residents of the town, bidding them wake up and not get so hopelessly behind the times. It was contended that the town had reached that stage in its history when unless it went forward, it would fall hopelessly behind and perhaps die of stagnation. It was declared that for sanitary and business reasons the installation of waterworks was absolutely necessary. The citizens certainly did wake up and entered into an exceedingly lively discussion of the question. When finally they were given an opportunity to vote, the progressives carried their point. Doubtless a considerable number voted in favour of installation rather than obstruct after the matter had gone so far, knowing also, that in any case, the proposed undertaking could not well be postponed for more than a few years.

On coming to take levels the engineers discovered that it was not going to be feasible to convey the sewage to the selected outlet on the Assiniboine River without the use of ejectors; it was therefore necessary to purchase three of these costly mechanical contrivances—each of two hundred gallons capacity—and place them in situations at convenient points in the town. Air compressed by means of steam power enables these ejectors to act automatically and to raise the sewage ten feet, from which elevation, following the law of gravitation, it flows naturally to the outlet provided at the river.

In 1907, the year following the completion of the waterworks, the status of the town was changed to that of a city. Its population was then six thousand, six hundred and nine, and it was carrying a debt of $211,400. The waterworks debentures of $460,000 added to this brought the total up to $671,400. A great part of the money borrowed was of course spent in the place, and business was splendid for a time. The people, however, who were to make their home in Portage soon as it was found out how up-to-date it was, are arriving rather slowly, the population at the present time being six thousand, seven hundred and fifty. It can be seen from the foregoing, that Portage la Prairie has been extremely enterprising, a conclusion supported by the history of other important undertakings, among which may be mentioned the flooding of the slough. This was first attempted by means of a huge water-wheel, which, supported between two scows and turned by the current, was expected to accomplish the thing desired. It proved a failure so the desired end was next sought by means of the damming of the Assiniboine River. Considering the size of this stream, the sandy channel through which it flows and the well known force of an ice-jam it was a brave undertaking. The river was actually dammed, and the sluice-gate closed, and the river did rise, and the citizens watching the slough saw it rise also—or thought they did—and then came the news that the dam had given way. Engineers who were consulted about repairing, fortunately placed the cost of a reliable structure at a figure that all cautious citizens pronounced prohibitive; and some of the citizens are supposed to have sought a little relief in saying that thing that had failed.

Ultimately, however, they succeeded in accomplishing that upon which they had set their minds. By means of a powerful pump the slough has been flooded, and there would seem to be an indefinable feeling abroad that Crescent Lake is the more beautiful and valuable because it has cost them so much, and that in obtaining it despite discouragements they have shown themselves worthy of the great pioneers who preceded them.

Perhaps it was hardly to have been expected that Portage la Prairie would have rapidly developed into a great manufacturing centre; but it was reasonable to expect that with its facilities for distribution, its natural and cultivated products could have been remuneratively converted into finished or partly finished products. There has been no just cause to question the soundness of such a theory; but somehow in Portage la Prairie it has several times broken down in the application. For instance: good wheat is grown in the district and converted into good flour in the local mills, and into good bread in the local bakeries and homes. Was there any valid reason why part of this wheat should not have been profitably converted into biscuit? A biscuit factory was built, good biscuits were made and found a ready market; but the concern was declared by the owners to be a non-remunerative investment and was shut down.

For many years lumber turned out from the local saw-mills was largely used in building up this town as well as in the construction of buildings in the surrounding country, but when a Mr. McIlvanie attempted to extend the finishing process by means of a planing-mill, he very soon spent a hard-earned little fortune and failed. A sash-and-door factory was once doing a thriving business in the place, but years ago it also joined the silent majority.

Regrets often being expressed then as now at the thousands of straw-piles annually dissipated in flame and smoke on the Portage plains, Mr. McIlvanie conceived the commendable idea of converting some of this straw into building paper. Accordingly a large factory was built, which turned out a really good article for which there was a ready market. Yet when the promoter’s funds gave out and he had to assign for the benefit of his creditors they showed poor appreciation of the property they had acquired, and when shortly afterwards it was burned down no serious regrets were expressed and there was never any hint of rebuilding.

Failure of some of the foregoing ventures was no doubt, largely due to the lack of capital, the common handicap of large ventures in a small place, yet considering their partial success and the complete success that other manufacturing concerns of the city have continuously enjoyed, it will be admitted that the confident belief of the citizens is well justified that in the near future their city is destined to be a much more important manufacturing centre than it is at present.

The city directory shows that there are over two hundred business places in the city. A few of these are little factories which may some day grow to considerable dimensions. Among successful enterprises may be mentioned the manufacture of brick. The quality of this article manufactured here for many years by the Snyder Brick Company is acknowledged far and wide to be first class. Our milling concerns are also considered quite up to the mark. The Portage milling company erected a flour mill in 1880 which had a daily capacity of three hundred barrels. This concern was acquired by the Lake of the Woods Milling Company in 1891. The mill is now run by hydro-electric power. Its staff of employees number seventy-five, and the daily output is fifteen hundred barrels. The Premier Milling Company was acquired in 1888. Its grinding capacity at that time was one hundred barrels which has since been increased to five hundred. It is run by hydro-electric, and has a staff of thirty-five hands. The Oatmeal Mill was built about 1885, and bought from its original proprietors in 1896 by the Metcalf Milling Company. It is run by steam. Its working staff consists of six hands. Its capacity is one hundred and fifty barrels, and its product is of excellent quality.

THE NEWSPAPERS OF PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE

The first was the “Marquette Review” started in 1876, and owned and edited by Mr. Thomas Collins, who is credited with having tried to show that his paper was not affiliated with any political party; however, in 1882 it was bought by a syndicate, when it became Conservative and supported the Norquay Government. A Liberal paper first known as the “Manitoba Liberal,” and now printed as the “Graphic” dates back to the days of the Martin-Greenway administration which commenced in 1887. Judge Mathers, before entering into the study of law was connected with the paper at its inception, and it has successively had as editor Mr. Atkinson, Charles Curtis and Dr. Rutherford. With the advent of this paper and for a quarter of a century afterwards both the Conservative and Liberal parties could enjoy the political news locally dished up to suit their respective tastes; but in 1914 when the World War started the staff of the “Review,” with a single exception, enlisted for service overseas, and the paper went out of business and has not since resumed. “The Manitoba Liberal,” alias Graphic Printing Co. being thus left with a clear field goes on supporting another liberal administration, that of Mr. Norris. Besides the daily and weekly “Graphic,” this company now print the “Oakville Standard” and the “Langruth Herald.” The two latter were being printed in this city by Mr. Pickell, but the Graphic Printing Company recently acquired his printing plant and now operate two printing establishments instead of one.

THE ASSINIBOINE AS A NAVIGABLE RIVER

When settlement began to spread over the Portage Plains, it very soon became necessary to find some improved means of transportation especially for agricultural products and machinery, and as the Red River cart was then becoming obsolete and unfashionable, and the so-called Prairie Schooner lived up but poorly to its name, and frequently stuck fast near Lane’s Fort or at the Big Bay, it was not surprising, and it was certainly very pleasing when the North-West Navigation Company turned their attention to the Assiniboine River as a likely means of extending their carrying trade westward. Up to that time the Assiniboine was known to be an unnavigable stream at an ordinary stage, to any vessel lying deeper in the water than a birch-bark canoe or a flat-boat. So in 1877, in the month of June when the river was at a stage favourable for experimenting with larger craft, the forenamed company had their tug, Prince Rupert, make a trial trip. It had in tow three flat-boats loaded with flour, general merchandise and telegraph wire, and arrived safely in Portage la Prairie three days after leaving Winnipeg. Encouraged by this success the company placed three larger boats on the river in the following season; these were the Cheyenne, the Marquette and the Manitoban. A suitable landing and warehouse were built by Mr. J. M. Pratt where the road running S.E. from town abuts on the river. The place was called Pratt’s Landing, a name that it has not yet quite lost. It is near the site of the first St. Mary’s Church. There during the season of navigation one or other of the three abovenamed boats arrived weekly with from two to three scows in tow. It was rarely that a cargo or part cargo was delivered at any place higher up the river than Portage la Prairie; but at least one ascent was made as far upstream as Fort Ellice. This river traffic lasted till 1880. In that year the Canadian Pacific Railway reached Portage la Prairie, and more quickly and completely ended the whistle of steamers on the river than the steamers had ended the squealing of the Red River cart on the prairie. In other words the Assiniboine ceased to be a navigable stream.

RAILWAY FACILITIES

These are such that in this respect Portage la Prairie can compare favourably with the largest cities in the Dominion. Through the city there pass side by side within a few yards of one another the three transcontinental railroads—the Canadian Pacific, the Canadian Northern and the Grand Trunk, while the Midland or Great Northern coming due north from the United States, for the present makes Portage la Prairie its terminal. The manner in which these lines have concentrated their stations and freight sheds renders it most convenient to transfer from one line to another, and to continue a journey in almost any direction with but little delay.

NOTEWORTHY CITIZENS

Before mentioning others reference may be fittingly made to the twelve hundred and sixty-five men who enlisted in Portage la Prairie in the service of the country and Empire, and whose names are inscribed on a monument standing in the city hall square. Space here will admit of the mention of the officers only. These were: Major Williams, who fell at the Battle of the Somme, September, 1916; Lieutenant Duff, who also made the supreme sacrifice; Major Taylor, at present M.L.A. and leader of the Conservative party; Brigadier-General Ormond, D.S.O.; Colonel Cowan, and Colonel Snyder. Among Portage authors may be mentioned Mr. Charles Mair, who was a merchant and the postmaster here in the seventies; also Mr. R. B. Hill who wrote a history of Manitoba. In the musical sphere this city might almost claim to be famous as it was the home town and starting point of Miss Millar, Mrs. Lever-Hawes and the late Miss Toye. The medical profession has had an unique honour in the city itself, in that it was a member of their profession—Dr. F. B. Lundy—who was so highly esteemed for his work’s sake, both by the inhabitants of the city and the surrounding country, that upon his death a beautiful bronze monument, bearing his name, was placed on the city hall square as a fitting recognition of the services he had so unselfishingly rendered the community. This city has a remarkable record in the number of lawyers who were trained or practised here and afterwards rose to distinction, making it appear as if the soil and climate was not only suited to the raising of No. 1 hard wheat but No. 1 lawyers as well. Mr. Joseph Ryan, one of the first lawyers to practise in Portage was raised to the bench. Mr. Joseph Martin and Mr. Hudson both of Portage, respectively held the position of Attorney-General in the Provincial Government. Mr. Mathers, the older brother, who was connected with the “Manitoba Liberal” became a judge. Messrs. McDonald and Hynman of the law firm so named, both became judges. The late Chief Justice Metcalfe of the appeal court studied law in Portage under D. L. McDonald. Mr. Edward Anderson, K.C., one of Winnipeg’s leading barristers also hails from Portage, so too does the Right Hon. Arthur Meighen, ex-Premier of the Federal Government, now leader of the opposition and probably the ablest debater in the house. Among honourable names must be mentioned that of Hon. Hugh Armstrong, until recently of the Portage, who for years filled the position of Provincial Treasurer with much credit to himself and benefit to this city and the country in general. At present another Portage man—Hon. Edward Brown holds the position. In keeping with the foregoing there is here subjoined a list of the Mayors and Secretary-Treasurers who have successfully held office, also names of the members of the first Council and of those who compose the present one:

SCENERY OF PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE

Portage la Prairie is fortunate in a soil rich and soft to so great a depth that it is suited not only to the growth of large trees but to the raising of flowers and plants as well. Hence its beautifully shaded residential streets, its flower-decked lawns and caragana and lilac hedges, which so considerably add to the attractiveness of the city and the pleasure and comfort of the citizens. Besides its suitable soil, nature gave this city a further chance to develop into a thing of beauty by supplying it with physical features in the rough in the abandoned serpentine river-bed of the Assiniboine, out of which frog-swamp, its citizens fortunately had the good taste and enterprise to evolve a beautiful lake. Of this semi-artificial body of water the writer would remark that Crescent Lake is an appropriate name, but Lac de la Reine from an historical standpoint would have been more so, and would have been a fitting compliment to the French pioneers who gave this district its French name of Portage la Prairie, and would also have been a polite tribute to that fine Frenchman, Verandrye who made his headquarters in this district and named it Fort de la Reine. Although Crescent Lake is well suited for boating purposes, it has so far been only spasmodically used in that way, and both citizens and visitors seem the better to appreciate its charms from a car rolling along Crescent Road which skirts its outer bank.

We, too, some fine afternoon in summer might find ourselves comfortably seated in a limousine and in a congenial mood for taking in the sights of Portage la Prairie. First then let us leisurely pass along Dufferin, Saskatchewan and Lorne Avenues, and afterwards, along Elizabeth, Campbell, Main and Broadway Streets, thus getting a chance to see some very fine private residences and beautifully kept grounds, as well as the Churches, schools and other public buildings of which mention has already been made. Assuming that we have been so far comfortable, and so interested in our inspection as to forget to grow tired we may now turn the car southward at the foot of Broadway, and passing the Industrial School to our left and the Crescent Lake on our right, we continue in a straight course three-fourths of a mile, with farms right and left till we reach Pratt’s Landing; and while we are resting here for a few minutes, let me point out some of the remaining traces of the good and straight First Furrows which—sixty-nine years ago were opened up here. On the nearer edge of that aspen grove about sixty yards north of the river bank there once stood a good sized, two storey, log house. It was clap-boarded and painted white. That building was the first St. Mary’s parsonage. Opposite and just across the road is Riverside cemetery, about the centre of which is a row of stately balsam trees which mark the exact site of the first St. Mary’s Church, and around there rests the bodies of a goodly number of those who worshipped in that first church of Portage la Prairie.

Now for a brief space to give our attention to the river. We might have been standing on this identical spot on a day in the summer of 1877-78 or ’79, and around us might have been a little crowd who had come down in wagons, Red River carts, buck-boards, on saddle or on their legs. Expectancy is written on every face, for it is the day that the Marquette, Cheyenne or Manitoban is due to arrive and she has been reported as having passed a particular point at a certain hour. Presently the cayuses prick up their ears and simultaneously are heard such expressions as “There goes the whistle,” “That’s her,” “She’s coming”; and presently the boat like some proud living creature majestically rounds the thickly wooded curve below. Returning now to our own day; and returning to Crescent Lake instead of a slough, and in a car instead of a cart, we follow Crescent Road which skirts the outer bank of the lake till we reach the Old Fort, where, over two miles from Pratt’s Landing the next western point of the prairie dips down to the river. Travelling thus in a semi-circle we view the lake, island and town from an ever changing aspect, and as we passed to our right a number of homes placed cosily in the shelter of natural groves the ride was relieved of any feeling of monotony. The stately Indian Industrial School was also passed at the extreme west of the city. Arriving at the river we are on a spot which from an historical standpoint may justly be considered the most notable of the city. Across there on the south bank of the river is where the North-West Company had a trading post as early as 1793. A few yards westward on that wood-surrounded hill, stood the Hudson’s Bay Company’s fort, still commonly referred to as the “Old Fort”; and, a century earlier somewhere hereabout, no doubt stood Fort de la Reine. For centuries, how many, no historian may venture to say, this was a famous resort of the Indians. Here in great numbers they would be found in the month of May, when they barricaded the river right across with poplar poles and gaffed name, sturgeon by the hundred. In my early days I saw this performance, and as a lad once squatted among them on this very spot and feasted on name, potatoes, Red River bannocks, and drank a decoction made of the bark of cherry trees generously sweetened with maple sugar of their own manufacture. And now to turn our thoughts from poor Lo “tenting on the old camp ground,” and to turn the car northward towards the plain that in his day was bare of anything but grass—behold the change. It is now dotted over with groves that have been mostly raised from seed, and within the partial enclosures thus formed are houses and barns mostly both substantial and attractive. In some direction or other there will likely be a railway train rumbling and puffing along, and everywhere are to be seen roads, fences and telegraph and telephone poles. In two minutes we come to the beautifully kept Hillside cemetery, and at its north-west corner once more turn homeward. Again we follow Crescent Road and at Campbell Street turn to the right, take the bridge and visit the island.

The city has expended considerable sums on its agricultural buildings and pleasure grounds, and their location on a well-treed island so convenient to the citizens is an advantage that but few cities enjoy. The main agricultural building used for the finer exhibits is of rather pretentious appearance and is sometimes playfully called, the Crystal Palace. A few steps from this building are the picnic grounds, where in the shade thousands may find shelter. Further south visitors may stray on foot over grass covered grounds, varied with flower beds, while overhead are the spreading branches of elm, oak and basswood; and circling through this into the wood beyond is an ideal car drive, invariably cool and generally free of wind or dust.

TRANSCRIBER NOTES

A paragraph has a word spelt with two different spellings. The word does not occur anywhere else in the book in either spelling. Not knowing which was the correct spelling, they have not been fixed: Mooniyas and Moonyias

When nested quoting was encountered, nested double quotes were changed to single quotes.

Space between paragraphs varied greatly. The thought-breaks which have been inserted attempt to agree with the larger paragraph spacing, but it is quite possible that this was simply the methodology used by the typesetter, and that there should be no thought-breaks.

I.	Portage la Prairie Under the French Regime
II.	When New France Became British
III.	Fort Gibraltar Not Impregnable
IV.	The Hudson’s Bay Company
V.	Early Missionaries of The R. R. Settlement
VI.	Archdeacon Cochrane
VII.	Archdeacon Cochrane’s Work Among the Indians
VIII.	The Parish School Teachers of St. Mary’s la Prairie, 1854-1870
IX.	The “Nor’-Wester”
X.	Portage Progresses
	Amateur Lady Doctors—Last Days of the Good Archdeacon.
XI.	Pastorate of Rev. Henry George
	The New Era—Instrumental Music First Heard.
XII.	Pastorate of Rev. Henry George
	Removing and Remodeling of School House—Parochial Organization—Money First Seen and Heard in the Church.
XIII.	Reil Rebellion
XIV.	Reil Rebellion and Counter-Rising of the English
XV.	The Second Reil Rebellion
XVI.	Pastorates of Revs. T. H. Canham, A. L. Fortin and A. S. Windsor
XVII.	Rev. C. N. F. Jeffery
XVIII.	Pastorate of Rev. Canon S. Macmorine
XIX.	Pastorate of J. I. Strong
XX.	Pastorate of Rev. D. T. Parker
XXI.	Churches of Portage la Prairie
	Baptist—Presbyterian—Disciple—Methodist—Salvation Army.
	Schools of Portage la Prairie
	Government Aided Institutions
	Court-house and Jail—Hospital—Boys’ Training School—Home for Incurables—Post Office—Indian School.
	Portage la Prairie as a Business and Manufacturing Centre
	Newspapers—Assiniboine as a Navigable River—Railway Facilities—Noteworthy Citizens—Scenery of Portage la Prairie.

Frederick Bird	William Norn
William Garrioch	David Cusitar
John Hodgson	John Dougal McKay
Richard Favel	William McKay
John Anderson, Sr.	Peter Henderson
Thomas Anderson, Sr.	Joseph Turner
Peter Whitford	Robert Gunn
John Spence	David Bow
Henry House	Thomas Bow
John Garrioch	Allen McIvor
Baptiste Demarais	John James Setter
Charles Demarais	William Hodgson
John Inkster	Alexander Gaddy
Simon Whitford	James Frank
Peter Garrioch	Malcolm Cummings
William Sutherland	Charles Cummings
William Gaddy	Joseph House
Charlotte Spence	Henry House, Sr.
Gavin Garrioch	Philip Whitford
James Whitford	Francis Whitford
Henry House, Jr.	James Jonas
Magnus House	Benjamin McKenzie
Robert Inkster	David Anderson
James Whitford	John Whitford
Magnus Whitford	John Anderson, Jr.
Henry Anderson

Mr. Festus Chapin.	Mr. John Giles.
Mr. C. H. Palmer.	Mr. C. S. B. Burley.
Mr. Bert Turner.	Mr. D. G. J. Leslie.

1881-1882—Thomas Collins.	1909 —S. W. Woods.
1883-1884—Ed. McDonald.	1910 —F. G. Taylor.
1885-1888—J. P. Young.	1911-1912—J. J. Garland.
1889-1891—Wm. Garland.	1913-1914—F. G. Taylor.
1892-1893—F. L. Newman.	1915 —F. G. Taylor and S. R. Marlatt.
1894 —Wm. Garland.	1916-1918—S. R. Marlatt.
1894-1896—W. J. Cooper.	1919-1920—J. H. Metcalfe.
1897 —Edward Brown.	1921 —S. R. Marlett.
1898-1899—Wm. Garland.	1922 —W. H. Burns.
1900-1901—W. J. Cooper.
1902-1908—Edward Brown.

W. A. Prest.	F. W. Clayton.
F. J. Whitaker.	W. R. Grieve.

FIRST COUNCIL	PRESENT COUNCIL
Mayor—	Mayor—
Thos. Collins.	W. H. Burns.
Councillors—	Aldermen—
John Connor.	W. S. Garrioch.
William Fulton.	Russell Hill.
Sam McIlvanie.	Walter Dalzell.
William Smith.	A. A. Darragh.
Robert Watson.	Stephen Garland.
J. P. Young.	W. H. Wheatcroft.
Secretary-Treasurer—	Secretary-Treasurer—
W. A. Prest.	W. R. Grieve.

PREFACE

CHAPTER I. PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE UNDER THE FRENCH REGIME.

CHAPTER II. WHEN NEW FRANCE BECAME BRITISH

LORD SELKIRK

CHAPTER III. FORT GIBRALTAR NOT IMPREGNABLE

THE HUDSON’S BAY COMPANY

CHAPTER IV. THE HUDSON’S BAY COMPANY THE SPIRIT THAT QUICKENETH

CHAPTER V. EARLY MISSIONARIES OF THE RED RIVER SETTLEMENT OTHER “FOOTPRINTS IN THE SANDS OF TIME”

CHAPTER VI. ARCHDEACON COCHRANE PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE FULFILLING ITS DESTINY

CHAPTER VII. HOSTS OF ENEMIES IN THE AIR ARCHDEACON COCHRANE’S WORK AMONG THE INDIANS

CHAPTER VIII. THE PARISH SCHOOL TEACHERS OF ST. MARY’S LA PRAIRIE 1854 TO 1870

CHAPTER IX. THE NOR’-WESTER LEGISLATION AND LITIGATION DURING ARCHDEACON COCHRANE’S PASTORATE

CHAPTER X. PORTAGE PROGRESSES—AMATEUR LADY DOCTORS LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD ARCHDEACON

CHAPTER XI. PASTORAGE OF REV. HENRY GEORGE—THE NEW ERA—INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC FIRST HEARD

CHAPTER XII. PASTORATE OF REV. HENRY GEORGE—REMOVING AND REMODELLING OF THE SCHOOLHOUSE—PAROCHIAL ORGANIZATION—MONEY FIRST SEEN AND HEARD IN THE CHURCH

CHAPTER XIII. RIEL REBELLION

CHAPTER XIV THE RIEL REBELLION AND THE COUNTER RISING OF THE ENGLISH

CHAPTER XV. THE SECOND RIEL REBELLION

CHAPTER XVI. PASTORATES OF REVERENDS T. H. CANHAM, A. L. FORTIN AND A. S. H. WINDSOR

CHAPTER XVII. REV. C. N. F. JEFFERY

CHAPTER XVIII. PASTORATE OF REV. CANON S. MACMORINE

CHAPTER XIX. PASTORATE OF REV. J. I. STRONG

CHAPTER XX. PASTORATE OF REV. D. T. PARKER

CHAPTER XXI. FIVE OTHER LEADING CHURCHES IN PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE

BAPTISTS

SUNDAY SCHOOL SUPERINTENDENTS

PRESBYTERIANISM

DISCIPLE CHURCH

THE METHODIST CHURCH

SALVATION ARMY

PUBLIC EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS

PRINCIPALS SINCE 1904

GOVERNMENT AIDED INSTITUTIONS

THE COURT HOUSE AND JAIL

THE GENERAL HOSPITAL

THE BOYS’ TRAINING SCHOOL

HOME FOR INCURABLES AND OTHER KINDRED INSTITUTIONS OPERATED IN CONJUNCTION THEREWITH

POST OFFICE

PRESBYTERIAN INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL FOR INDIAN CHILDREN

PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE AS A BUSINESS AND MANUFACTURING CENTRE

THE NEWSPAPERS OF PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE

THE ASSINIBOINE AS A NAVIGABLE RIVER

RAILWAY FACILITIES

NOTEWORTHY CITIZENS

SCENERY OF PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE

TRANSCRIBER NOTES

CHAPTER I.
PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE UNDER THE FRENCH REGIME.

CHAPTER II.
WHEN NEW FRANCE BECAME BRITISH

CHAPTER III.
FORT GIBRALTAR NOT IMPREGNABLE

CHAPTER IV.
THE HUDSON’S BAY COMPANY
THE SPIRIT THAT QUICKENETH

CHAPTER V.
EARLY MISSIONARIES OF THE RED RIVER SETTLEMENT
OTHER “FOOTPRINTS IN THE SANDS OF TIME”

CHAPTER VI.
ARCHDEACON COCHRANE
PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE FULFILLING ITS DESTINY

CHAPTER VII.
HOSTS OF ENEMIES IN THE AIR
ARCHDEACON COCHRANE’S WORK AMONG THE INDIANS

CHAPTER VIII.
THE PARISH SCHOOL TEACHERS OF ST. MARY’S LA PRAIRIE
1854 TO 1870

CHAPTER IX.
THE NOR’-WESTER
LEGISLATION AND LITIGATION DURING ARCHDEACON COCHRANE’S PASTORATE

CHAPTER X.
PORTAGE PROGRESSES—AMATEUR LADY DOCTORS
LAST DAYS OF THE GOOD ARCHDEACON

CHAPTER XI.
PASTORAGE OF REV. HENRY GEORGE—THE NEW ERA—INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC FIRST HEARD

CHAPTER XII.
PASTORATE OF REV. HENRY GEORGE—REMOVING AND REMODELLING OF THE SCHOOLHOUSE—PAROCHIAL ORGANIZATION—MONEY FIRST SEEN AND HEARD IN THE CHURCH

CHAPTER XIII.
RIEL REBELLION

CHAPTER XIV
THE RIEL REBELLION AND THE COUNTER RISING OF THE ENGLISH

CHAPTER XV.
THE SECOND RIEL REBELLION

CHAPTER XVI.
PASTORATES OF REVERENDS T. H. CANHAM, A. L. FORTIN AND A. S. H. WINDSOR

CHAPTER XVII.
REV. C. N. F. JEFFERY

CHAPTER XVIII.
PASTORATE OF REV. CANON S. MACMORINE

CHAPTER XIX.
PASTORATE OF REV. J. I. STRONG

CHAPTER XX.
PASTORATE OF REV. D. T. PARKER

CHAPTER XXI.
FIVE OTHER LEADING CHURCHES IN PORTAGE LA PRAIRIE