“I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,Over mountain, or plain or sea;I’ll say what you want me to say, dear Lord;I’ll be what you want me to be.”—M. Brown.
“I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,Over mountain, or plain or sea;I’ll say what you want me to say, dear Lord;I’ll be what you want me to be.”—M. Brown.
“I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,Over mountain, or plain or sea;I’ll say what you want me to say, dear Lord;I’ll be what you want me to be.”—M. Brown.
“I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,
Over mountain, or plain or sea;
I’ll say what you want me to say, dear Lord;
I’ll be what you want me to be.”
—M. Brown.
The only route to British Columbia then travelled, except the terrible overland journey, attempting to make which so many perished, was thatviaNew York, by sea to the Isthmus of Panama, thence to San Francisco, and on to Victoria.
After bidding adieu to home, friends and acquaintances, I left Woodstock on February 25th, 1862. The journey in some respects was a sad one. It was at the time of the American Civil War, and at every station, after crossing the Niagara River, hundreds of men came on board going to “the front,” leaving behind on the platform their mothers, sisters, sweethearts and wives, many never to meet again. These scenes revived in my own heart the pain of my recent parting with loved ones.
That winter was a terrible one, marked by many heavy snowfalls. In New York State the train passed between high banks of heaped up snow.
From New York we took passage on board the old S.S.Champion. She was crowded with five hundred men, most of whom were bound for theFraser River or Cariboo gold mines, and some of them the roughest class we ever met, armed with bowie knives and six-shooters. The language used by many of these men was so vile that I could not sleep below, and to escape such offensive atmosphere I took my blankets and went on deck. We had a very rough passage, and it was terribly cold, so I chose a spot close to the smokestack, and rolling myself up, lay down to rest. One night, during a great storm, the waves swept over the deck, drenching me thoroughly, and the officer of the watch came along and roused me with the words, “My boy, if you don’t get out of this you will be washed overboard.” I picked up my dripping blankets, shook myself, and sought a more sheltered spot.
The food supply for the passengers was not all that was needed—I got one potato in the trip. Fortunately my friends had provided me with a well-filled lunch-basket, which afforded me good service. The hungry men at times were rough and selfish. As the stewards would pass the food on to the table these hoggish men would grab it off the plates with their hands, so that if any one happened to be a little more modest he could not get anything. On one occasion a tall, good-natured Irishman thought he had struck it when he seized a long potato, but as he was drawing it to himself two other fellows made a grab, one at each end, and poor Pat was left with just the middle. One day the men stood by the swinging tables and swept the whole of the food off into the sea. Then, rushing to the captain, they declared that if he did not give them somethingbetter than “that dead horse” they would use their six-shooters.
We were delighted to reach the Isthmus, and crossed over by moonlight on the narrow-gauge railway. It was pleasant to have a night crossing, for it was very hot weather, and the temperature in the middle of the day was almost unbearable.
We saw the picturesque thatched huts of the natives here and there along the way, and called to mind the stories of the terrible mortality among these people while the little railroad was being built. My heart was touched by the sight of so many of these poor people in their apparent heathen simplicity, and I wondered if they had a missionary among them.
At Panama we embarked on the fine double-decked passenger steamerGolden Age. At this point crowds joined us who had come by ships from England, and we were told we had fifteen hundred aboard. Our fine-looking ship was evidently not built to stand much stormy weather, but they pushed along up the coast of Mexico, meeting no difficulties, and presently we put into the harbor of Acapulco to coal.
As the ship lay at anchor crowds of natives surrounded the vessel with their little canoes. The passengers threw five and ten-cent pieces into the sea, and the natives, heedless of the sharks that were swimming about, would jump out of the canoes and dive like fish for the money, bringing the pieces up in their teeth, shaking their heads and still beckoning for more, as they were ready for another dive.
One of the brethren who followed me tells the story that while his ship was coaling in this same harbor the sharks were so numerous that the passengers became alarmed for the safety of the little chaps, who as usual were diving for the money. Rushing to the side of the vessel, in great excitement, some of them cried out:
“My! my! That shark is going to have that fellow.”
“Naw,” drawled a gruff old tar, “he won’t touch him.”
“Why not? Look! Look! He’s just going to catch him now.”
“Naw,” said the sailor, looking on without concern. “He stinks too much of tobacco. He’ll never touch him.”
Soon we sighted the Golden Gate, and later entered it in our ship theGolden Age. One could not but think there was much that was golden in those days of gold hunting, and yet many a poor fellow found out to his own sorrow that “it is not all gold that glitters.”
Thousands of men filled the streets of ’Frisco, nearly all bound for the Fraser River or Cariboo, as British Columbia was called in those days.
The steamboats, some of them not very seaworthy, were all overcrowded, bound north. A short time before the old steamerRepublic, with eight hundred passengers, and the oldSierra Nevada, with nine hundred, had gone “up.” And now another old coffin, theBrother Jonathan, which had passed the Customs to carry only two hundredand fifty, took on eleven hundred men and was still selling tickets.
Some of our acquaintances who went north on board of her state that “they were stowed away like pigs, two in a bunk,” and they did not dare to leave their bunks for fear they would lose them. They were eight days on the trip, and hundreds of them never saw daylight but once, when they put in to Astoria for a few hours.
I, with a small party of Canadians, shipped on board the trim little barquentineW. B. Scranton, and had a lovely trip of ten days. On Sabbath we held religious services, the first we had had during our long journey.
As we passed through the Straits of Juan de Fuca, on the last night, and in sight of the lights of Victoria, a storm caught us. So severe was it that Captain Cathcart and his men were on deck all night, and were obliged to put about ship continually to keep her driving between the three lights of Victoria, Dungeness and Race Rocks.
At daybreak the wind subsided, and the morning found us in a dead calm away outside the Royal Roads.
The beauty of the sight which met our eyes as the day brightened can never be forgotten. The grand snow-capped Olympian Range lay to the south, and away to the east the rising sun cast rays of crimson light on old Mount Baker, as it nestled back from the great Coast Range of hills, while the glaciers seemed to shoot back light to the snow on its lofty peak.
To the north was that most beautiful and natural park, Beacon Hill. Victoria, we were told, nestled just behind it, though not much of the town could be seen from where our ship lay.
About noon of the same day, April 11th, we were landed by a small boat on the rocks near where the outer wharf has since been built.
The natural beauty of its situation entitled Victoria, then as now, to the name of Queen City of the Pacific Coast.
The town was not large, but the first Parliament buildings and several good-sized churches gave it importance and helped to enhance the effect of its appearance. The place was crowded with men, the chief stir of business being where the “Cheap Johns” had stores for outfitting the miners—you could hear one on each side of the street auctioneering their goods almost night and day. The Hudson’s Bay Company’s store and wharf, with their little boats, theEnterpriseandOtter, were rushing business to the port of Queensborough (now New Westminster), on the Fraser River, where the goods were transferred to river steamers and rushed on up to the diggings.
Besides those who took passage on the steamers, hundreds were venturing in small boats and canoes, many of which were wrecked or lost on the Gulf of Georgia and the treacherous river. And some of those who escaped shipwreck were murdered by the savages before they reached the mines.
New Westminster was then a growing village, situated on Mary Hill, which was still partly covered with immense timber. To the east, looking up the Fraser River, nature presented another grand panorama of glorious mountains, upon whose lofty peaks the snow lay all the year round.
From here the stern-wheel steamers carried freight and passengers to Yale, then the terminus of steamboat navigation, nearly one hundred miles up the Fraser. Thence the miner carried his goods on his back, or had them carried on the backs of pack animals or in ox-waggons, nearly four hundred miles farther. About this time the great waggon road was completed to Cariboo, and the treacherous trails over “Jackass” (a difficult ascent behind Yale) and other mountains were abandoned.
In addition to the river route, hundreds of men came in overland from California, by way of Whatcom and Sumas, or by the Columbia and through the Okanagan Valley.
The winter of 1861-2 was one of unusual length and severity, and the great “rush” to the mines set in too early, with the result that many endured untold hardships and suffering, and many others who came into the country were never heard of again.
Long before the summer was over hundreds returned—some from the mines and some, indeed, who had never reached the mines—poorer and wiser than when they came. Many who were cursing the country and leaving it were advised to take up land and settle in the lovely valleys on the Lower Fraser—Chilliwack,Sumas, and Langley, or the Delta lands near the mouth. They derided the idea of these lands being any good. But the few who did remain and take up land are now prosperous and wealthy farmers, and have lived to see this once despised district become the “Garden of British Columbia.”
The government of the country was then colonial, under a Governor appointed by the Home Government and a small Council. James (afterwards Sir James) Douglas, the first Governor, had been a Chief Factor in the Hudson’s Bay Company and Governor of Vancouver Island. He was much respected and beloved by all who knew him well, but especially by the natives of the country. He was a wise, upright and impartial Governor over the two colonies, Vancouver Island and British Columbia, which, though nominally distinct, were for purposes of government practically one.
About this time, when the rush to the mines produced a more or less lawless condition of affairs, Matthew (afterwards Sir Matthew) Begbie, an English barrister, was appointed to the bench. He dispensed justice in the colonies with so firm a hand that for years he was a terror to evil-doers. Many stories are told of him, but the following will serve to show the fearless character of the man. A fellow was being tried before him, charged with sand-bagging a miner and obtaining his gold. There was hardly any doubt that he had committed the crime. The evidence given was so convincing that a verdict of “guilty” appeared the only possible one. But thejury found him not guilty. “Prisoner at the bar,” said his lordship, “the jury have found you not guilty. I discharge you, and now I recommend you to go and sand-bag the jurymen.”
Besides the Methodist Church, the Episcopalian, Presbyterian, Congregational and Roman Catholic Churches were all doing good work among the white colonists. I shall never forget the unspeakable delight with which, after nearly six weeks’ deprivation, I had the privilege again of attending love feast and sacrament. I was admitted by ticket from the Rev. Dr. Evans, pastor of the church in Victoria. I was like a bird let out of a cage, and entered with joy into the spirit of the meeting. It was afterwards asked by some of the brethren: “Who was that strange boy in home-spun clothes who had the audacity to disturb the quiet of the church by his ‘Amen,’ ‘Hallelujah,’ and ‘Praise the Lord’?”
As the spring advanced the lovely climate became apparent. The genial warmth of the beautiful spring and summer days was followed by cool nights, when anyone in health might enjoy refreshing sleep.
The extensive timber areas, one of the most valuable assets of the country, were already attracting capital. A number of sawmills and spar-camps began shipping spars and lumber to many parts of the world. No one could go through the primeval forests of those days without being impressed with their natural greatness. Tall firs abounded, many of them from two hundred to three hundred feet in height, standing straight, their stems unbroken bya single branch until they reached the bushy, spreading tops. Equally tall and gigantic cedars grew side by side with hemlock, spruce and the smaller vine maple, the shady, broad-leafed soft maple, ash, birch, cottonwood, apple, cherry and alder. Such a wealth of foliage caused one to exclaim, “Lo! God is here! Let us adore.”
These were some of the first impressions of the land which was to be my home for so many years.
The following eleven months were spent in hard manual labor, by which I earned sufficient to return the money, with interest, which had been so generously loaned to defray the expenses of my journey. This gave me excellent opportunities to gain an insight into the life and needs of the country and its people—a knowledge which could not well have been gained otherwise. I was employed on the wharf, at work in the woods, clearing land, and on the roads being built by the Government, as well as on rough carpentering work in putting up buildings. All this, in a measure, prepared me for canoe and camp life, and for superintending the erection of church and mission buildings, and for assisting the natives in building their houses—indeed, for all the practical mission work which lay before me.
It was while working on the Government road that fall that I first saw the large dog salmon jumping and floundering up a stream so narrow that we could jump over it. So crowded were they, and so great was their number, that their fins and tails were, many of them, worn off in the struggle. It was not an uncommon thing to see black bears, in such a field, fishing for themselves, and eagles by thescore, as well as ravens, carrying off their supply of food. We saw elk and deer in great numbers, and water fowl in clouds. And the conviction grew upon one that a land of such mountains and rivers, seas and forests, teeming with life, such coal and gold fields and such a magnificent climate, was destined to become a great and grand country.
All this time my mind and sympathies were excited by the condition of the poor Indians, as it was for their temporal and spiritual welfare I had left my home and friends. When I saw the thousands from the far north coast, as well as from the interior, crowding into and about the towns, being more and more debauched and degraded by the white man’s diseases and fire-water; when I saw how little human life was respected by them, and realized how little was being done to stem the tide of evil among them, it made my heart burn within me.
At Victoria these people were so crowded together, and in such great numbers, that the natives from the north came into violent collision with those from the south, and bloodshed was the result. To put a stop to this, the citizens petitioned the Government to send the northerners away to their homes.
All this, and much more that we saw among these people, would tend to grieve the hardest heart, and to inspire one to make a decided and determined effort for their salvation and civilization. And daily I was hoping and praying that the way might soon open for me to commence work among them.