Forty-two years amongst the Indians and Eskimo

by Beatrice Batty

The posts dependent on it are East Main, Mistasinnee, Waswanepe, Nitchekwun, and Machiskun; and every summer large canoes come from each of those places, bringing all the furs collected during the previous twelve months, and taking back with them full loads of bags of flour, chests of tea, casks of sugar, bales of cloth, kegs of gunpowder, shot, cases of guns, and all the other etceteras which comprise an Indian’s wants. The furs are examined, counted and sorted, made up into large bales, shipped on board the Moose schooner, and taken to Moose, where they remain until they are put on board the yearly ship, to be transported to England.

At Rupert’s House the number of residents in the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company was about fifty; these were all half-castes, but speaking English as well as if born in England. They were very well conducted, several of them were communicants; ‘and although there is not yet, I am sorry to say,’ wrote the bishop at that time, ‘a resident clergyman among them, all are punctual in their attendance at an English service held for them by their trader every Sunday.

‘The Indians did number somewhat over three hundred, but for the last few years they have suffered greatly from a failure of food. And many of them have been starved to death. All are now Christians, but when I first went to them they were in a sad state of heathenism; their minds were very dark, and their deeds corresponded thereto. They were devoted to conjuring, having the most superstitious dread of the conjurer’s power. Their sick they never burdened themselves with for any length of time; there was the unfailing remedy of relief, the bowstring; for death required no attention save the burying of the body. Parents, as soon as they became dependent on their children, were subjected to the same operation. Murder for gain was rife; indeed, I could hardly point to any place better adapted to illustrate the text, “The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty,” than Rupert’s House. But of many of the Indians it might now be said, “But ye are washed, but ye are sanctified.” All are baptized.

‘In consequence of the immensity of my charge, I am not able to visit Rupert’s House as I did formerly every summer. When my canoe was seen approaching, every man, woman, and child would leave their tents, and come and stand on the river’s bank to see their “father,” as they called me, and, if possible, to get a shake of his hand. For some years we had no church, but assembled in a large upper room kindly placed at our disposal. Within a short time of my arrival, it was always packed as full as it could hold, and so it would be two or three times every day of my stay. And then every family came to me privately, and we talked over the events of the previous winter: how they had been off for food; whether furs had been plentiful or not; who had been sick, and who had died; how they had followed their religious duties; what instruction they had given their children. The whole family history of the year was gone through, and reproof, commendation, or encouragement given, as the case required.

‘How full of work was every day, and every minute of every day! From six o’clock in the morning until nearly nine at night, except at meal times, it was work, work, work; but what blessed work! How the people responded to every call! It was work which made me bless God for calling me to enjoy so high a privilege. And many see things now with a much clearer eye than when they were ministered to by His servant. He directed them to the Master, and into the Master’s presence they have entered.’

The bishop was more and more desirous to be able to place a missionary permanently at Rupert’s House. The Rev. H. Nevitt, who had already made acquaintance with the station, would have liked to be located there, but he could not be spared from Moose until someone came to take his place. The ‘someone’ expected had not come out in the last year’s ship, and was still anxiously looked for.

In July the bishop visited Martin’s Falls, a canoe voyage of three hundred miles from Albany. The Indians here he found not very satisfactory, being steeped much more deeply in heathenism than any others in the diocese, not very accessible, remaining at the station no longer than was necessary for their trading purposes. He determined to place a resident catechist there. He then went on two hundred and fifty miles further, by a most difficult route, to Osnaburgh, situated on a large and beautiful lake. Here, morning, noon, and night, the teaching went on. The bishop’s heart was gladdened to see that God was blessing the work, and he made up his mind to appoint one of his divinity students as pastor at the post; in the meantime he left a trusty native agent, himself an Osnaburgh Indian, in charge.

In 1886 this man writes as follows:

‘I wish to tell you I am doing the work you wanted me to do. Only some of the Osnaburgh Indians listen to me. I am always going about. Last fall I went very far to see the Cranes; they are good people, and say prayers morning and evening. I wish you would let Queen Victoria know that I am teaching her people to serve and fear God and to love Jesus.