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The Ryerson Canadian History Readers

Lorne Pierce, Editor

“Pupils who depend upon the authorized text alone for their information learn little or nothing about Champlain’s life except the days he spent in Canada. They know nothing about his fighting days with Henry of Navarre; that he travelled widely in Spanish America; that he wrote interesting books about his travels; that he was the first man to suggest the possibilities of a Panama Canal. All this and a very interesting account of all he did for his beloved colony, his toilsome wanderings through the primeval forest, his zeal in spreading a knowledge of Christianity among the cruel and ignorant savages, will be found in this very interesting little booklet on an early Canadian hero—Champlain.”—Manitoba Teacher.

What is true of Samuel de Champlain, by Adrian MacDonald, in the Ryerson Canadian History Readers, is equally true of the other gallant figures which form the theme of this series of short biographies of the great heroes of Canadian history. Against the background of Canada in the making stand out the romantic personalities of her makers—explorers, warriors; missionaries, colonists.

“A large number of these popular little books have made their appearance. . . . They make absorbing reading for any one wishing to get a brief insight into the romantic life surrounding the important personalities in Canadian history.”—Toronto Globe.

Printed on excellent paper, with clear type, from 16 to 32 pages, illustrated by C. W. Jefferys, R.C.A., an artist into whose exquisite little line drawings has gone a whole lifetime of historical research, vivid in style, brief enough to be read at a short sitting, these little booklets deserve the intelligent recognition of every teacher, librarian, and student in Canada. Not only do the Ryerson Canadian History Readers provide the first complete history of Canada from East to West, based on the romance of personality, but they provide also the first complete pictorial history of the Dominion.

Silas Tertius Rand was a native of Nova Scotia, born at Brooklyn Street, Cornwallis, in 1810. His parents, who had come to Nova Scotia with the New England migration, early instructed him in reading and writing, and for a few weeks of several winters he attended school. At the age of eleven he was accounted through with education, and took up work with his older brothers upon his father’s large farm.

Some years later he secured a book on arithmetic, and, without aid, mastered its problems from cover to cover. He followed this up by the study of English grammar, taking some lessons upon the subject, and became so apt a pupil that he was soon able to instruct others, earning enough money thereby to attend a term at Horton Academy.

In early youth Rand had become a devoted Christian, and decided to devote his life to the ministry as soon as he should become fitted for it. With this high purpose in view he used every opportunity for instruction, managing always to get an hour’s study each morning, and again at night before repose. He read as many books as he could procure upon theological and kindred subjects, and eventually received ordination, being appointed to the Church at Parrsborough.

Though preaching over a wide circuit, he still continued to improve his mind, undertaking Greek, Hebrew, and Syriac. From these languages he passed on to others, until he had a working knowledge of a dozen and more, reading Italian, Spanish, French and German, as readily as English.

Rev. Silas Rand is here shown on the outskirts of his immense parish. Many missionaries have been skilled canoemen, but Mr. Rand trudged through the forests and along the rivers of the Maritimes. Dropping into a Micmac camp, he lays aside his hat and walking-stick and prepares to make notes on their words and legends as the conversation progresses.

It was this remarkable gift and passion for acquiring strange tongues, that led him to dedicate his life to missionary work among the Indians. A friend suggested that he try the Micmac language, and he fell in with the proposal. To accomplish this he had to mingle with the Indians, getting it by word of mouth. Being thus much among them, Rand was greatly affected by their hard lot, and, after much thought upon the subject, he determined to give himself to the work of educating and Christianizing these semi-savage people of his own land. Renouncing the pleasures and comforts of civilization, he established his family at Hantsport, where, with access by both land and water, he might the more readily reach them when opportunity offered, and set out on his lonely mission to the people of the forest.

The Baptists of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island were chief sponsors for the enterprise, giving the missionary a small living. The whole religious community of Halifax were in sympathy with the undertaking, and contributed annually toward it, the full amount, however, being much less than his former salary. After a few years he renounced this regular stipend, preferring to live a life of faith alone. At the end of his long labours he testified, that never had the “cruse” been empty, nor the “bread” withheld.

The Indians were scattered throughout all the country, living in quite large encampments in some districts, and in smaller settlements near village centres. Sometimes but a little group of their dwellings stood beside some pleasant stream, or a few lonely wigwams at the edge of the forest gloom. At the outset of his ministry Rand frequently met with hostile reception, but in the main he found them willing for his visits, and as soon as his purpose became generally known, encountered no opposition whatever.

He was a fine singer. “Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast,” and he used his gift to good advantage, often attracting an entire encampment by singing Christian hymns; gaining thus their friendly interest, he found entrance to their wigwams and their hearts.

Soon after undertaking the mission he decided to study the language exhaustively for the construction of a grammar and a dictionary, and thus preserve it from oblivion. It was a tremendous undertaking, but with great zest he took up the task.

Nearly a century before this, Abbé Simon Maillard, “Curé to the Indians of all Acadie,” had become much interested in the Micmac language. He and Rev. Thomas Wood, Rector of St. Paul’s during Maillard’s residence in Halifax, prepared a Micmac grammar, prayer book, and lexicon, copies of which were printed in Paris. These works were evidently not known of by Rand, for in his statements concerning the accomplishment of his mission, he has nowhere made mention of any material which assisted him in his own acquisition of the difficult language. Moreover, he has recorded in his diary an account of the method he pursued at the outset to gain a vocabulary.

As he sat within their camps, or walked with them through the forest ways, he would ask the names of all objects round about them, repeating over and over the strange sounding words, and writing them down phonetically. From simple words he went on to more complex forms of construction, soon getting down into the very genius and spirit of the tongue. He found it “the most beautiful of any he had ever striven for, copious, flexible, entrancingly musical, bearing good comparison with any of the most polished languages of the world.”

Believing that it was wise to preserve among them a native pride of race and accomplishment, Rand encouraged the Indians to tell him their legends and traditions, stories of the chase and war, their customs and wanderings through a long past. A remarkable collection of fable and facts resulted, linked up with the topography of the country and with place names. Afterward he wrote them out for publication, thus preserving much of the mythological lore of a people whose history runs back into remotest antiquity.

To this end he also set down in his writings minute accounts of the manners and customs of the Micmacs; the structure of their wigwams; their dress, social laws and religious rites; their remarkable knowledge of flora revealed in food, medicine and beauteous dyes; intimate data on animal life, fish and birds; the strange innate understanding of geography among them; knowledge of the stars and planets in their courses, and cycles of the sun and moon.

Snatching a day or two off now and then from his labours, in some secluded camp, or in brief visits at his home, he would write out his new information, work up some forms of the language, or translate into Micmac the sacred Gospels.

“Did your people like Dr. Rand?” I once asked an aged Indian squaw. “Oh, ya-as, much. He do us good—teach us stop fighting, too often—read Bible-book, and go school sometime. Make us keep clean—wash blanket, stew-pot—papoose, too, much, most every week.” And then, after a moment’s silence, with a lovely light flooding her dark, stolid face, “I have hear he take care my old mudder, when she die with fever so bad nobody else go near camp. Stay three day, night-time, too. Make soup, sing nice song—pray, make her so happy she go right up to Heaven. Oh, ya-as—I have hear about him—much. He good man to our people.”

I remember this scholarly servant of God, visiting for a day with my grandfather at my parents’ home. His locks were long and snowy white, his face thin, brown and seamed, and eyes with an eager, piercing glance. Straight he was as an arrow. The two old friends sat at twilight before the Franklyn hearth-fire, talking together in high converse, problems of religion, and affairs of state. When they spoke of the Micmac Mission we children crowded near, catching pictures of the forest dwellers and their ways that have never faded from memory. Nor has the hymn he sang us at the evening’s close been forgotten, his Te Deum hymn, he called it:

All the verses through, in English, then in the Indian tongue, mellifluous, yet weird, like sighing winds in tree-tops.

Before his death he had the satisfaction of seeing the value of his mission abundantly vindicated. Through the period of his ministry the Indians had changed from paint and feathers to our own dress; from hunting and fishing as their main means of subsistence to basket weaving and cooperage; from birchbark wigwams to houses of logs and cabins of boards, with surrounding patches of tilled land to yield them maize and potatoes. In many settlements, schools and chapels were opened up, communities and churches aiding his efforts. The Government of Canada assisted in the publication of his works, and in recognition of his valuable research universities conferred upon him their highest honours.

His accomplishments in the Micmac tongue include the translation of almost the entire Bible, the compilation of a dictionary of forty thousand words, a reader-manual, and numerous tracts. He wrote also, in English, a book of Micmac fables and legends, and published scores of pamphlets concerning his investigations into their history and customs. And in addition to all this, he composed some very stately English hymns, and translated into Latin more than one hundred others.

Silas Rand lies buried in the pleasant valley where he passed his boyhood days and dreamed his early dreams of scholarship and success.

In a sequestered burying-ground of Northampton, New Hampshire, a plain head-stone bears the name of Reverend Henry Alline, who departed this life at that place on the morning of February 2, 1784, aged thirty-seven years.

As a Herald-of-the-Cross this man traversed the provinces of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, preaching with passionate ardour the Gospel message, in the few small pioneer churches, from boats upon the rivers, in open fields, in barns and courthouses, from parade-grounds about the armed forts, from tavern doors and within remote log-cabin homes. A wave of religious enthusiasm swept the land where’er he passed.

He was born in Newport, Rhode Island. His parents were William and Rebecca Alline.

In the year 1760, shortly after the removal of the French-Acadians from Nova Scotia, proclamations were sent forth throughout New England, offering upon most advantageous terms the vacant French farmlands. A large number of the families who removed thither, Henry Alline’s parents among them, settled in the townships of Annapolis and Cornwallis, where thousands of acres of meadows, uplands, orchards and gardens were allotted them. They were intelligent God-fearing people, in good circumstances, and of good ancestry. Their influence reached down the years, not only affecting political and industrial development within the province, but also making throughout all Canada a notable contribution to religion, literature and art.

The Allines secured a grant in the Falmouth section, lying midway between Halifax and Annapolis Royal, and but a few miles distant from Fort Edward, where soldiers guarded the settlements from Indian depredation.

After several years of attendance upon the irregular and scanty means of instruction then available in the district, young Henry gave up further schooling to work upon the farm, but continued to exercise his love for reading, especially works upon travel and religious themes.

Before their departure from New England the family had been deeply stirred by the preaching of the noted Whitefield, whose “new-light” teachings had emphasized emotion as a sign and seal of conversion, and the boy, young though he then was, would spend many sleepless nights fearful of unforgiven sins. As a young man these doubts and fears still continued with him. He was under great mental gloom one evening as he set out on a lonely walk to the house of a friend, pondering as he went upon his lost condition, and praying earnestly for assurance of pardon. Suddenly, out of the blackness of the night, he was aware of what seemed to him an uncommon light flooding the place round about where he stood, the like of which he had never before witnessed. The very spirit of God seemed to encircle him with celestial beams, so that he stood trembling and rapt before the invisible Presence. All distress of mind fled away; his heart filled with joy at so miraculous an assurance of conversion.

With this experience came a strong desire to preach the Word. Believing, however, that a minister of the Gospel should have scholastic attainments, and as there were no schools for higher education in Nova Scotia, he made arrangements to proceed to Boston to enter there an institute of learning and divinity.

The vessel on which he had engaged passage did not sail as expected. A subsequent journey was also hindered. Finally, when another attempt failed, he was led to believe that, by these continued obstructions, God was showing him he was already equipped for the work he was called upon to perform.

He preached his first sermon in his own settlement at Falmouth. Word had spread about that Henry Alline was starting out to be a New-Light preacher, and many flocked to hear him. Whole boat-loads of people came down the river, and a large number gathered from the country-side, some with gladness of heart that God had raised up a messenger to spread abroad His cause in the new land, others calling him a babbler and a fool to attempt it. But he preached with amazing power, many who came to scoff remaining to pray.

Throughout the Cornwallis and Annapolis townships he continued the work, thence around the south shore to Shelburne, Yarmouth and Liverpool, and in the following year to Halifax, Cobequid and Cumberland, wherever there were settlements upon the way to call together a meeting. Except for the ministrations of the Catholic Church, mostly confined to French districts, there had been scarcely any religious teaching available for the many new settlers throughout the province, and the visits of the evangelist awakened deep concern among them.

He was a young man of fine bearing, very slight, with deep-set eyes, an air of serenity about his grave manner, a peculiarly rapt expression lighting his countenance as he spoke. And his power of speech was extraordinary, the earnestness of his appeal combined with the fluency and strength of his chaste yet homely language, stirring to the utmost depths the emotions of his hearers.

Again Alline traversed the province—Cisibou, Roseway, Pubnico, Orsue, Medway, Merleguish, Piziquid—not always received with friendly consideration, in one instance he was threatened by military authorities with death if he did not leave the vicinity, here and there he was refused shelter by public-houses and forced to sleep out under the open sky, but through all seasons, and in the face of all difficulties, continuing his mission, undaunted. Ragged Islands, Sable River, Argyle, Malagash, Onslow, Londonderry, Amherst, Greenhill—scarcely an inhabited spot that he did not reach, on foot or by boat, and everywhere some souls were called of God to repentance, often entire families and communities professing conversion to new life.

After covering the Nova Scotia field for several years, he crossed the Bay-of-Fundy to New Brunswick territory, holding services at Fort Howe. The commanding officer treated him with much civility, and gave him passage in his barge up the river Saint John, where he visited settlement, Seigniory, and isolated cabin, arousing such widespread interest that many of the people accompanied him from place to place. Journeying on to other sections—Peticodiac, Maugerfield, Memramcook, Sackville, Shepody, Shediac—never pausing for rest, meetings were held from morn till midnight, frequently in the open-air when houses could not contain the throngs; sometimes as early as at break of day the people wending their way across the quiet fields, to bow in prayer and praise before their Maker.

Under the heavy strain of incessant travel and effort, alarming symptoms of disease developed. Family and friends advised rest. But he gave to them no heed, labouring even more earnestly than before, a feverish urge within his soul surmounting weariness of flesh.

He crossed to Prince Edward Island, preaching there in many districts, and made another tour of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. Then, although greatly failing strength told him that his days on earth were numbered, he determined to return to New England and spread the Gospel message among his own countrymen, taking passage on a small packet plying between Windsor and Boston.

Kneeling upon the wharf, before embarking, Alline prayed that God’s mercy should ever fall with special favouring grace upon the settlement at Falmouth, to which he had come in his boyhood years, the place of his conversion and his consecration, and from whence he had first set out upon his sacred mission. A century and a half have fled since then; the little village still nestles amidst its hills and orchards, its grey-gabled roofs scarce showing from out the embowering green, giving always a sense of calm, and plenty—and one wonders if the blessing was imparted thus.

Arriving at St. John River the packet sprang a leak, and was held up for repairs. Alline left the vessel and, procuring a horse, continued his journey along the coast region. And as he went he preached—Bristol, Squaw Isle, Booth Bay, Casco, Bedford; on and on he passed—Harrisicket, Woolich, Brunswick, Bath; but daily growing weaker, and never free from racking pain.

Insufficiently clothed for the severity of the winter which by now had descended upon the land, often with scanty fare to sustain him, the difficulties finally became too distressing to endure. Stricken with death, he was taken into the home of a friendly minister at Northampton, where he was cared for with every possible kindness until the end came a few weeks later. The fervid passion for souls had burned like a fire within him, and consumed his life in early manhood.

Through all his incessant labours, Alline had kept a journal, composed a large number of hymns, and wrote discourses upon religious themes. These were published at Boston (1806), in little brown leather-covered volumes, now rare, and except to lovers of Church History, scarcely known.

His followers were for a time called Newlights. He was not himself under any Head, and was careless of creed and dogma. Though consenting to ordination, that he might the better administer the work, he did not always insist upon organizing his converts, nor demand of them doctrinal belief.

“There shall come others after me,” he said, “who shall tend and water the seed that through God’s good grace I may now be able to plant.” From his preachings resulted an impulse to the Baptist faith, many men of piety and talent, who were converted through him, subsequently establishing that denomination throughout the provinces.

The success of his mission can never be doubted, and the power of his appeal has not been surpassed among us. “They that turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever.”

Rev. Jacob Bailey, known as the Frontier Missionary, was born in Rowley, a small Puritan community in the old Bay State of Massachusetts. His parents being pioneer settlers, and labouring under most adverse conditions in establishing their home, were unable to provide for their large family anything beyond the bare necessities of living and the simplest branches of instruction.

Jacob, from early boyhood, manifested great interest in all knowledge, and must have been possessed of much industry and talent. Though obliged to work with his father throughout the day, he managed to get time at night to exercise his faculties by writing out his youthful impressions of life, in story and in verse.

Some of these compositions, coming to the notice of the Congregational minister of the circuit, won for the boy the friendship of that gentleman, who not only offered to instruct him free of charge, but interested others on his behalf. Young Bailey, thus being able to gratify his thirst for education, was encouraged to prepare for Harvard College, which he entered, and was graduated from when twenty-four years of age.

For a time he devoted himself to teaching. Opening up a night school in a sister’s home, he received over two dozen pupils, male and female, the youths furnishing firewood, the young women candles, each to pay, in addition, the sum of three shillings per week. Larger and more remunerative engagements later came his way, and he taught with much success.

Thrown into close touch with the Episcopal Church, and attracted by its tenets, he changed his religious affiliations from the Congregational body, to which his parents belonged, to the Anglican faith, and proceeded to England for Holy Orders, as was the custom of the times. He was ordained in London, taken into maintenance by the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, and sent back to his native land, to Pownallboro, Maine. “Young Mr. Bailey who comes to you, is sober, prudent, and well-disposed,” wrote the Society.

Upon this field Bailey laboured for about twelve years, building up a parish of wide extent, and rendering pronounced service in the advancement of morality and industry. In the later years of his ministry there, the fires of the Revolution, long smoldering throughout New England, began to flame forth. Being an ardent Loyalist, he was subject to much persecution; the fact that he was supported from a British source aroused the indignation of those who were sympathizers in the Rebellion. Such patronage being accounted as treason, he was prohibited from officiating openly in a religious capacity, was spied upon, and hunted in his private life, boldly attacked by violent mobs in search of treasonable papers, and upon several occasions was forced to flee for safety to the forest.

In the face of such circumstances, Bailey petitioned the Council for liberty to depart to the province of Nova Scotia, where he might continue his missionary work under the British Crown. Permission being granted him, he succeeded, after many fruitless efforts, in getting passage thither for himself and family. The schooner was so small that they were obliged to lodge in the hold, half-stifled by fumes of bilge water, their clothing soaked and filthy by its contact.

After several weeks of wretched confinement, being unduly delayed by tempest and fogs, they reached Halifax, destitute of all means and effects, and without certainty of assistance from the governing powers. But sight of the fortifications, and the collection of shipping in the channel, with British colours flying to the breeze, cheered the hearts of the desolate little party, crowded up on deck for a clearer view of their desired haven.

Mr. Bailey, in his diary, has left a description of their apparel upon this occasion, picturing the sad state to which they were reduced by the persecutions they had suffered:

Thus attired, they made the landing, met the officials of the port, and marched in procession to the abode of New England friends who had previously secured asylum there. Dr. Bryenton, Rector of St. Paul’s, soon arrived to favour them with a call. Assuring them every attention and consideration, he informed Mr. Bailey that he was to wait upon Governor Franklyn during the day, to solicit official countenance and protection. The Governor, most sociable and sympathetic, listened with great interest to the recountal of conditions in the rebel colonies, and promised immediate assistance and consideration.

An advantageous post was offered, as assistant at St. Paul’s, but, having within him the missionary instinct, he preferred rather to take up work in a district where he might himself be able to build up a congregation, and in pursuance of this desire removed from the capital to Cornwallis. After several years of labour in that community, he proceeded still farther down the country to the small garrison town of Annapolis Royal. Here was pressing need of a minister, and an opportunity for service through all the region round about.

The journey thence was made in midsummer in the year 1782. Mr. Bailey’s account of the “advance” to the new field, is an animated and interesting story of the habits of the people, and the primitive conditions of the country at that period.

He, and a friend, riding, headed the expedition. A cart with two yoke of oxen, driven by two young men, contained their possessions. Another vehicle, for Mrs. Bailey and the children, provided with a canopy of canvas upon upright poles, was drawn by two horses. Accompanying them, as a parting expression of friendship and farewell, were upwards of two dozen people of their congregation, men and women, on horseback and afoot, a portion of the company making their departure after a mid-day meal together, others continuing the pilgrimage until the following morning. The route lay often through vast woods, with scarce a habitation. The road was thickly encumbered by rocks and sloughs, and their discomfiture was heightened by a downpour of rain. Clouds of mosquitoes infested them on every side.

Upon the third day they came in sight of their destination. “The little town rising amidst a forest of fruit trees, its lovely river winding through green meadows, and the lofty mountains of Granville in guard behind.”

Annapolis then contained about one hundred and twenty persons besides the garrison, most of them Anglican adherents. Across the Basin at Granville were quite a number of families of that faith; others lived up and down the river. The small church, rough boarded in structure, had been erected by a former missionary. Upon the new incumbent now fell the burden of completing the building.

His difficulties were greatly increased by the arrival, in the autumn, of a large number of Loyalist refugees, who, for devotion to the cause of the King, had been stripped of all their possessions, and were now being sent by the British Government to Nova Scotia for shelter and settlement.

From New York came nine transports, containing five hundred persons. Later followed five ships, eight brigs, four sloops, and many schooners, bringing about two thousand of the exiles. Their advent was a serious problem to the Government of Nova Scotia, but especially to the little town where they landed. To house and feed them was the immediate pressing concern, and it was largely due to Mr. Bailey’s wise co-operation with military and civic authorities, that this was so well accomplished.

Along with his spiritual gifts he had also a capacity for leadership. He now set all his wits to work at plans which would alleviate the present crisis, and ultimately work out toward the permanent settlement of the new-comers within the province. Numbers of them were ignorant and dissolute, but the majority were educated, cultured folk whose traditions and attainments would make them valued inhabitants.

In whole-souled welcome he turned the church into a lodging-place, quartering several hundred under its rude shelter. His own house was full to overflowing, and he urged all the townspeople to do likewise, until every available building was crowded to the utmost. Throughout all these perplexing circumstances it seemed as if he had “come into the Kingdom for such a time as this.”

He visited the sick, and comforted the dying; baptized their children, married the lovelorn; and where a bonnet or a pair of breeches were more to the point than a prayer, he waived the prayer and procured the articles desired. His saving grace of humour heartened many a discouraged one, who might not otherwise have seen the bright side of a tragic situation. Mothers (in after years), in lonely spaces where the settlers’ smoke upcurled, remembered his kindly words as he had blessed their babes. Men, toiling in the outposts, recalled the ready joke and laugh that inspired fresh courage to their drooping hearts.

And his God, whom he thus served by both prayer and cheer, gave him back in abundant measure his reward, not alone the loving thankfulness of the Loyalists, but the personal regard and esteem of the entire townspeople with whom he had laboured so whole-heartedly in a common cause.

By the following year conditions were considerably eased. A large body of the unfortunate exiles had been settled in New Brunswick. Others went to Upper Canada, and to various parts of Nova Scotia. Quite a number took up grants in Annapolis and adjoining townships, not only visibly enlarging the membership of Mr. Bailey’s church within the town, but also enabling him to build others in outlying sections.

Over this wide parish he officiated with great tact and energy, being particularly earnest and devoted in administrations for the young. He conducted a large day school in Annapolis, opened up classes for catechism throughout the whole district, and in the town assembled the children on Sundays as well. This faithful work among the rising generation, in whom rests always the hope of the land, was one of the most-valued features of his pastorate.

Bailey was also Chaplain to the regiment then stationed at Annapolis, interesting himself zealously in the welfare of the soldiers and their resident families. And, in addition to all these activities, he continued to exercise the gift whose early manifestation had brought to him his first advancement in life. With astounding industry and application, he wrote poems, essays, histories, textbooks, and a remarkable diary that is a record of his days from his youth up. He died, in 1808, full of good works for his Lord and his adopted land.

Reverend William Black was the Father of Methodism in the Atlantic provinces of Canada. He lived his boyhood years in Huddersfield, England, coming to Nova Scotia, in 1775, at the age of fifteen. His parents, and other members of the family, settled in the County of Cumberland, where were many other Yorkshire people, attracted as was Mr. Black by the rich, dyked, farm lands left vacant after the eviction of the Acadians.

His mother was a devout Christian, often taking her children before the Lord in prayer for the conversion of their souls. Her death, a year after their arrival in their new home, was a sad loss.

William and his brothers joined the youth of the district in all the general merrymaking, and often in the wild excesses of that period; he was a prime favourite and leader, lively and daring, ready with jest and song, and apparently in no wise concerned over religious matters. Some of the older residents, who, in Yorkshire, had been under the preaching of John and Charles Wesley, became convinced that they should open class meetings in their homes. William Black began to attend them, and forsook the former revelry with his young companions, for this assembling of staid and sober elders.

There were believing brethren of several denominations among the inhabitants round about, but there was not at that time any organized Christian body meeting in regular gathering, though occasional ministers on evangelistic tour had visited the vicinity. So it attracted much attention when these Yorkshire followers of Wesley began to convene for public worship.

The meetings were carried on with great fervour, from sunset to midnight, sometimes until morning dawned, and there was joy among them to note the presence of the young man in their midst. Night after night he was in attendance, listening to their presentations with evident interest, finally joining in their petitions by beseeching their prayers on his own behalf. After some weeks of distress and despair he received a remarkable assurance of conversion.

The news spread round the district. “What!” said his gay companions with whom he had been chief reveller. “That happy young rake a long-faced Christian! Why did he do it!” “Billy converted!” said his brothers. “How did it happen?”

Billy soon let them know. During the first night of transporting joy, after getting relief from his sore distress of mind, he wakened the whole household to impart the glad news, and to urge upon them the knowledge of their own sinful state, nor rested until, by earnest prayers, they, too, had obtained a happy assurance of pardon and peace.

His friends and acquaintances also, wherever met, were entreated to turn their thoughts to God. “Go tell the brethren,” seemed to be his “Orders.” So all-compelling was it, that he was constrained to believe it a call from his Lord to take up the work of the great commission. But he was as yet only nineteen years of age. Except for the early schooling in England, he had received no further education, and he hesitated to assume so high a mission. Still the Vision tarried, and he had no rest of mind until he was ready to say, “Lord, I will not be disobedient unto it. Loose Thou my tongue, and send me forth to do Thy will.”

It was a great and momentous decision, this stripling going forth to do battle against sin—his sole equipment a love for his God, and such a burning desire to serve Him, that the message from his lips seemed like coals of fire from off the Altar.

He preached at all the rising settlements within reach, holding services by day and night. People flocked from all the country-side to hear, and great numbers were converted. At one meeting soldiers from the near-by garrison entered and arrested a score and more, the Commandant having conceived it his duty to suppress the gathering. Discovering, soon after, that he was guilty of unauthorized interference with the rights of His Majesty’s peaceful subjects, he hastened to release them and to proffer friendly aid to the young preacher.

Black’s labours were soon greatly extended. He went to Halifax, through the Valley, and around the south shore, his words everywhere being received with gladness and repentance. But the importance of the work began to press heavily upon him, former doubts of his unfitness for it, without special education, returning with deep concern. Having by that time acquired much knowledge of the Wesleyan Revival, and desiring to ally himself directly with the movement, he wrote John Wesley telling of his conversion, his “call,” and his labours, and of his conviction that he should go to England to attend the “Kingswood School,” an institution founded for the followers who expected to take up public Christian service.

That great, good man must have been profoundly touched to receive such a letter, from the outposts of empire, written by a young convert evidently so consecrated to the work, for it was with no perfunctory pen that he made reply to the message. With the kindliest consideration he welcomed him into the ministry, and with an understanding heart counselled him as to his fitness for the undertaking.

Mr. Black accepted the opinion of his leader as to a college course of training, substituting for it throughout his long life a regular course of reading, later engaging in the study of Latin and Greek. The correspondence so happily begun continued until Mr. Wesley’s death, a never-failing source of pleasure and inspiration. Many of the letters are still preserved among family records.

Throughout Cumberland, and the bordering districts in New Brunswick, a wholesome and widespread revival accompanied his preaching, several hundreds professing conversion. There were fanatics and extremists among them, but for the most part a decided wave of better living followed the revivals, and the organization of Church Societies afforded scope for leadership, and co-operation for the common welfare.

Not content with this, he felt that there should be other labourers on the field. Taking his young wife, whom he had lately wedded, he made a journey to the United States, where were many adherents of the Wesleyan faith, and where, at Baltimore, a Conference was to be held. Along the way, in Boston, New York, and other cities, he held series of meetings, preaching with great power. Large numbers gathered to hear him, in Boston such a revival attending his efforts as the city had never witnessed. At Baltimore he presented his need for men with so sincere an appeal, that his request was granted, and several were appointed to assist him in the work.

On a subsequent visit, a few years later, he received Ordination at a Philadelphian Conference. Soon after this he proceeded to Newfoundland, where he carried on a remarkable work, entire settlements professing conversion. His name is revered by the churches, throughout the whole Island, to this day, for the great good he wrought there.

Black went also to the West Indies, and was strongly impelled to remain upon that field. But ill-health forced him to abandon the purpose, and he returned home, taking up residence at Halifax.

Soon after this, in recognition of long, “abundant labour,” and of his successful leadership, he was appointed Superintendent over all the Societies in Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Newfoundland, a position which he held to the end of his days, devoting himself utterly to the welfare of the churches over which he was everywhere acclaimed the wise and efficient head.

But as much as he valued the work of administration, he never forgot that his chief gift was evangelism, and his first business in life that of saving souls.

In a crofter’s cottage in the hamlet of Comrie, Perthshire, Scotland, was born in 1759, a lad destined to labour as a pioneer minister throughout the Atlantic provinces of Canada—James Drummond McGregor. His parents were people of marked piety, and the babe at his baptism was solemnly dedicated.

By much industry and sacrifice they were able to provide their son good schooling; and, while in attendance at Edinburgh University, he fulfilled their consecration vows by devoting himself to the Christian Ministry.

Religious controversy was at high heat just then, the dissensions in the established Scottish Church being sharp and bitter. Those who sought for deeper spiritual manifestation than the ritual of the Church encouraged, separated themselves into various schools of belief; and McGregor, who was an ardent seeker after truth, allied himself with the strictest sect of the Seceders.

At “Edinbourgh” he became much interested in Gaelic, the vernacular of his native district, taking every opportunity to seek instruction and conversation with eminent Gaelic scholars of the University. Developing a strong love for the tongue, he felt himself peculiarly fitted to labour in the Highlands of Scotland with the people who spoke it; and made known this desire to the Synod, who, gratified at the request, promised to further his purpose.

But a far-distant field was opening out for the young probationer. In the year he was to take up his Highland appointment, there came a petition to Scotland, from Pictou, a small colony of Scottish settlers in Nova Scotia, asking that a minister be sent them who could speak both Gaelic and English. After much search the choice of the Synod fixed upon James McGregor. In a remote country, so newly settled, there would be many privations to endure, and except for the mere passage money thither, no other aid could be given. The young man entertained the proposal thoughtfully. He was convinced that it was a call to a distinct service, and signified his willingness to undertake the mission. His appointment being formally confirmed, he was instructed to make the voyage thither upon the brig Lily, the only vessel expected to sail from Scotland, that year, for Nova Scotia.

The last days of sojourn in his native land were spent with his kindred at Comrie. To his parents the thought of his removal to so distant a clime caused deepest sorrow. However, they were devoted Christians, and while lamenting the separation, rejoiced that they had been given a son to carry the Gospel to “solitary places.”

After a tempestuous voyage of six weeks the ship arrived at Halifax. The population of Nova Scotia at that time was made up of Acadians, English, Irish, Germans, New England Colonists and Loyalists, and the Scottish settlers to whom McGregor was appointed.

His parish lay upon the northern coast of the province, along the shores of a fine harbour of Northumberland Strait, and up the several rivers which emptied their waters into it. His people were Highlanders, with the addition of a few families from Pennsylvania and Maryland who had been the first grantees of the colony. Procuring a horse at Halifax, he made the journey to his destination, along a narrow rough-hewn pathway, through swamps and streams, and over rock-bound hills. He was accompanied as far as Truro by a fellow traveller, then continued on alone through the dense forest.

He found his scattered flock bearing the lot of all early settlers in isolated districts. Many of them were exceedingly poor, living in huts or log-cabins, blocks of wood sufficing for chair and table; food served in wooden dishes, and in many instances only a pile of straw for their beds.

To perform religious duties over so wide an area called for abundant consecration, with good nature, and a sturdy physique. Possessing all three requisites, McGregor went forth to his task, eager to give himself unstintedly for the betterment of his destitute countrymen. He had himself been plainly reared, had seen equally hard circumstances in some parts of his own land, and was not appalled by the conditions he must cope with. “Often in a wooden house a golden spoon you’ll find,” and the young preacher got many such surprises as he shared their simple hospitality.

Several of the early proprietor settlers had, by this time, abandoned their first rude shelters, and erected frame houses and barns. They were rejoiced at the prospect of religious instruction, and offered him great encouragement and assistance.

East River, West River, Middle River and Pictou, up and down their shores he journeyed and preached, under shelter, or in the open fields. Sometimes he had to reprove or threaten the profane and mocking element who attended only for curiosity, but always there were a few glad hearers, whom his words blessed and nourished. Worshipers often walked a dozen miles to the service, the aged starting on Saturday and abiding overnight with some friend upon the way.

McGregor was everywhere a welcome guest. Happy in the art of conversation, upon religious or everyday topics, also a good singer, he could entertain his hosts with tale or ballad, hymns or discourse grave, his company a refreshment for both old and young. Though deprived of his books and study for weeks at a time on his pastoral rounds, yet the close contact with his people was the foundation cause for the peculiarly intimate and endearing bond which so distinguished his long ministry among them.

After a few years, conditions began to improve within the little colony. Scotsmen are a thrifty folk wherever found, and the people in this outpost settlement worked together with a will for mutual prosperity. The population was frequently increased by fresh arrivals of their countrymen from other parts of the province, and from old Scotland. Frame houses took the place of cabins; good roads were made, mills, schools and church buildings erected, and boats and vessels built to carry on their commerce. Throughout McGregor gave enthusiastic encouragement; his advice was sought, his judgment respected, his rare good will a potent factor in every accomplishment. From his slender salary he contributed so often and so liberally, that it seemed as if “the more he gave away the more he had.”

After about ten years’ residence he took to himself a helpmeet, having the interesting adventure of playing in earnest the old game of “choosing a wife in the dark.” He had never seen his bride until a few moments before their marriage vows were made. The young lady, a resident of Halifax, was highly regarded for amiable qualities of mind and heart; through correspondence she signified her willingness to join him in his work; the union proving most happy and satisfactory.

But the pleasures of home, and the demands of his own field, were not suffered to withhold him from going to flocks without a shepherd. He crossed the Strait of Northumberland to Prince Edward Island, preaching in all the settlements, and visiting the people. There were then no public roads on the Island, except the one from Charlottetown to Cove Head, between other places, blazed directions only, and rough routes along the shores. He went also into New Brunswick, meeting the same difficult conditions of travel, and visiting small communities of Scotsmen in isolated districts.

In a small open boat McGregor made a visit to Cape Breton, cruising around much of the dangerous coast to reach the fishermen, and traversing alone the deep forests of the interior with only a pocket compass for guide. To the end of his days scarcely a year passed that he did not take one or more of these missionary tours. Most of the older Presbyterian congregations in the territory where he travelled, were either started by him, or fostered to a new life.

Upon his home circuit in Pictou, and through the outlying districts, the population grew and churches multiplied. His religious activities increased, while in public service he was in increasing demand. Although these labours began to tell upon his health, he rendered the doctrines of the Gospel into Gaelic verse, adapted to fit the melodies of his native land. The collection became popular wherever introduced, and won high praise from Gaelic scholars.

Honours from Edinburgh University were bestowed upon him for this achievement. It was his great desire to return to his native land for the conferring of the degree in person, and to visit the scenes hallowed by memories of his departed parents, both of whom had died soon after his arrival in Nova Scotia. He was destined never to fulfil the wish. Successive paralytic shocks laid him low, and after a violent stroke he passed away, in the seventy-first year of his age, and the forty-sixth year of his ministry.

Along the shores of the lovely Saint Mary’s Bay, where, for thirty miles and more, stretch the white cottaged villages of Claire, home of the Acadian French, the name of the Reverend Jean Maudet Sigoigne is everywhere remembered with reverence and love.

The Abbé was a son of France, born at Beaulieu, of a family held in high esteem in the Department where they resided. He delighted in study, and was also greatly devoted to religious duties; his learning and piety were of a high order, and in early manhood he was ordained to the priesthood.

During the Revolution he took asylum in England, supporting himself by manual labour for a time. Later, through the patronage of a Protestant English nobleman, he opened up a small school, teaching French and other subjects, and applied himself, in spare hours, to the study of the English language, and British methods of governing.

While conducting this school he received a visit from the Bishop of St. Pol de Leon, also an exile in England, who related to him the deplorable condition of the French in Nova Scotia. Expelled from their native land some years previous, they were now returning and settling in an isolated portion of the province, barely able to obtain a living, and without regular religious instruction.

The young Abbé was so much affected by the story that he decided to go out as missionary to these unfortunate people of his own race. His application was sanctioned, and he set out in the early summer of 1799, carrying with him, from both Catholic and Protestant people of influence in England, high recommendations of character and scholastic attainment. After tossing upon the stormy Atlantic for two months, the little ship arrived at Halifax, and Father Sigoigne presented himself to the authorities, submitting his credentials, and taking the oath of allegiance to the British Crown.

The problem of the returning Acadians had been a most perplexing one to the Provincial Government. After the treaty in 1763, small bands of them, who had been taken no farther than Massachusetts at the time of the expulsion, began returning to Nova Scotia, several hundred making the long journey on foot, sleeping upon the ground, their only sustenance the food they could obtain from sea and forest. Many perished by the way. Others, who had fled to the woods during the proscription, now openly joined their returning countrymen. Their leaders promised fealty to the Crown if a district would be allotted them, where they might live again in peace and unity in their beloved Acadie. So sincere were their expressions of loyalty, and so urgent their need, that Governor Franklyn agreed to their request, allotting them a large tract of unsettled country along the shores of Saint Mary’s Bay. There, in the wilderness land, they organized their little communities, and set up their homes. But dissatisfaction had lately arisen among them, and the Government was much concerned over the situation. The advent of the young priest at this juncture, so well sponsored, so civil and courteous of manner, who desired to live and labour among them, inspired the authorities not only with instant favour toward himself, but with high hope, also, that he might reconcile the Acadians. He was given every encouragement for the undertaking, and, after a few weeks’ sojourn in the garrison capital, went by a small fishing smack to his charge.

He landed at Eel Brook. At that place, and extending all the way from Cape Sable to Claire, were the people of his mission. Thirty years had elapsed since the granting of the land. During that time several devoted priests, including Father Joseph Bourg, had ministered unto them for varying periods, and two small churches had been erected, but for the past ten years no religious advantages had been provided.

The district was remote from any English settlement, and only accessible by water. This peculiar seclusion had appealed to the quiet and pastoral instincts of the Acadians, who, after their wide dispersion, had welcomed the opportunity of being together again, to enjoy their own speech, and exercise their own religion. By practising the frugality they had always before known, they hoped to build up once more their past prosperity. But successive failure of their crops, and of the fishing, had dampened their early ardour. Repeated appeals to the Government had brought only scanty redress. At the time of the Abbé’s arrival they were in a state of deep discontent, resenting the hard conditions under which they must labour to obtain the bare necessities of existence, and sullenly bemoaning the loss of their former comfortable homes in which now dwelt the alien race.

It was a critical period in the history of their repatriation, and the stranger who had come to pass his days among them met the situation with rare wisdom and understanding. By act and word he sought to bring them into harmony with the new conditions of rule, and to create among them a patriotism of country above attachment to their race alone. As they gathered before him in their chapels, when he visited in their homes, or toiled with them in the fields or upon the sands of the shore, the burden of his message was ever the same:

And the people gave heed to his words, and began to sing the new song of courage and hope. The soil of the district was fair, the upland pasturage remarkably sweet and of long duration. The fresh-water streams seldom went dry. Fish were usually abundant for home consumption, and for markets as these could be opened up, numerous small coves all along the coast providing harbourage for fishing fleets. The forests easily yielded timber for the building of boats.

Under his direction the rough, narrow trails were widened and extended, making communication easy from end to end of the district. A system of drains was constructed, and a beginning made toward establishing fine herds of cattle for which they had been so famous in their former holdings. A school was opened, taught by the Abbé himself, in his own small home, and arrangements were made for teachers in other parts of the settlement.

Though coming among them in a religious capacity, his mission had developed along many other lines—engineer, architect, educationist and agriculturist. In addition to all this he was an advocate as well; by the understanding of British laws that he had acquired during exile in England he was now able to administer British justice, settling disputes and grievances with unerring tact.

Upon his arrival they had built the Abbé a small cabin, and he dwelt among them as simply as themselves. When the fish failed he lived as the others, upon potatoes; when crops suffered, he subsisted upon the scanty food they must otherwise obtain.

Alluring calls came from his native land, where honour, ease and recognition awaited him. They must have stirred dear memories of garden and terraced vineyards, of populous towns, and cloistered walks in stately schools, but though his love for France was strong, he counted as naught these summons to renown and ease, against the mission of his early choice, and the people whose cause he had espoused.

As years passed on the population was much increased by fresh arrivals of the Acadians from more distant points of exile, Louisiana, Jersey, France, and England. Some had been former leaders among them, and upon their return they took a prominent part in furthering the prosperity of the settlements, and in winning recognition in the affairs of the province.

Large concessions of forest tracts of immense value, at the rear of the villages, were secured from the Government. Boats and vessels were built in their own shipyards to carry on their commerce. Schools and churches multiplied; a college was founded in their midst for higher learning. All this enterprise and success was, in a large measure, due to the steadfast friend and trusted counsellor, who led them out of the wilderness of their discontent into sweet fields of peace and gladness, and lived out his days among them, until his death at the age of eighty-five.

A nobly-designed statue is erected in his honour, on the grounds of Saint Anne’s College, Church Point, and his memory is enshrined for all time in the annals of the Maritimes. He rests from his labours, but his works do follow him.

TRANSCRIBER NOTES

Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed.

Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors occur.

A Table of Contents has been added for reader convenience.

A cover which is placed in the public domain was created for this ebook.

[The end of Pioneer Missionaries in the Atlantic Provinces, by Grace McLeod Rogers]