NEW DOUGLa.s.s HOUSE, WINNIPEG, JUNE 8TH, 1885.

Mrs. Delaney and Mrs. Gowanlock:

DEAR MADAMS,--Although an entire stranger to both of you, I cannot resist the impulse to write you a few lines to say how thankful and delightful I am to hear of your rescue.

Before I was dressed this morning; my husband came up to tell me that you were both safe. And I cannot express to you, neither can you comprehend the joy that intelligence brought to everyone. The terrible stories of your being tortured and finally murdered, outraged the feelings of the whole civilized world, and while men swore to avenge your wrongs, women mourned you, as sisters.

I am very thankful to see by the papers that you were not so inhumanly treated as reported, although your experience has been a terrible one--and one which you can never forget.

I presume that as soon as you are a little rested, you will go east to your friends; should you do so, I will be most happy to entertain you while you are in Winnipeg.

After your captivity, you must be dest.i.tute of everything, and if you will come down here, we will be delighted to supply you with what you require. I do not know if you have personal friends here, or not, but your sufferings have given you a sister's place in every heart, and _every one_ in Winnipeg would be deeply disappointed if you did not give them an opportunity of expressing their deep sympathy and regards.

Mr. Bennett unites with me in best wishes, and in hopes that you will accept our hospitality on your way east.

I am in deepest sympathy,

Sincerely yours,

MRS. C. F. BENNETT.

I shall never forget the words of sympathy that are expressed in this epistle, or the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. McCaul and the people of Winnipeg generally. On our way from Winnipeg to Parkdale we received every attention and a.s.sistance, which I can a.s.sure the reader went a long way in making sorrow lighter and more able to bear. I thank G.o.d for the sympathy that was extended to me by his people. Mr. J. K. Macdonald of Toronto, was most a.s.siduous in his attention to us from Winnipeg until we left the train at Parkdale on the 12th of July. I must not forget the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong also of Toronto, or the other ladies and gentlemen who were our fellow pa.s.sengers on the journey.

CHAPTER XIX

AT HOME.

Home--torn from mine--back to the parental. I will now look back over the scene, taking a panoramic view of the whole, as it occurred from the day I left my father's house full of happiness and joy, until I entered it full of sorrow and suffering.

It is well for mankind that they are forbidden the knowledge of what will be their destiny. It was well-conceived by a loving father that it was for our interest to be kept in ignorance of what was in store, for we, his creatures. And thus it was that I entered upon the duties of the household, with a lightness of heart equal to that of any matron. In the humble home (I commence from there) in that beautiful north-west land of quietness and peace, there was not a ruffle heard, or a rumor sounded, of what was in store for that industrious little community. We were living in the bonds of fellowship with all mankind, and we had no fear.

But in all that stillness there was an undercurrent at work that would soon make itself felt. Dissatisfaction on account of grievances, real or fancied, was blowing. It had broken out in one place, why should it not in another. This disaffected spirit was prevalent in all parts of that country. Who was to blame? who was the cause? direct or indirect, it is not my intention or desire to say; suffice it is to note, that there was discontent; and therefore there must have, been grievances, and an attempt should have been made or an understanding arrived at, whereby this state of discontent should have been replaced by that of content, without disturbance. Where there is discontent there must be badness and suffering, with evils and excesses lying in its wake.

To have removed those grievances was the imperative duty of the dispensers of law and order and thus avoid those excesses, but it was not done in time and the inevitable did come swift and sure; the innocent were made to feel its fury. For that little hamlet by the creek was entered, and its domestic quietness destroyed and future prospects blighted. There was a degree of uneasiness felt after we were informed of the horror of Duck Lake. Two half-breeds, Blondin and Donaire, who were employed by my husband, were observed in frequent and earnest conversation with the Indians. Those two had but arrived from the scene at Duck Lake. For what were they there? Was it to incite the Indians?

Their actions were, to say the least, suspicious.

I will not dwell on the terrible slaughter which followed, it is too painful a subject, simply stating that I had not believed that anything so awful would have been perpetrated by either half-breeds or Indians, until we were taken out of Mrs. Delaney's the second time, and then I felt that there would be trouble, but not in such a manner as that. When I was dragged from the death-bed of my husband, who had the ground for a couch and the canopy of heaven for a coverlet, I was in a bewildered condition. Half-unconsciously I allowed the Indian to drag me on to his tepee, and once in, the circ.u.mstances which led to my position, flitted through my brain in quick succession. I then realized that it was most critical; in a few hours I would be forced to undergo ill-treatment that would very soon kill me. With those thoughts within my mind, the tepee opened and a little girl entered, an angel sent by G.o.d to be my deliverer. Although not aware, she was his instrument in taking me out of danger and placing me in a purer atmosphere. That child was Pritchard's little girl and I asked her to send her father. He came and by his influence I was transferred to his care for a while. And when I entered his tent and there saw Mrs. Delaney, I was overjoyed for a minute, and then all was a blank; the excitement proved too much for me and I swooned away. When I returned to consciousness they were all doing their best for me.

In a short time Blondin came in, (at the commencement of the ma.s.sacre he left for our house) he brought with him our waggon, and oxen, and all the furniture and provisions he could take. Immediately thereafter the Indians appeared and it was then that he offered them $30 and a horse for our release. The offer was accepted and I was transferred to Blondin. The wretch was there with evil intent in his heart. I fully believe that he felt exultant over the doings of the day. Why did he go down to our house when that dreadful affair was going on? Why did he help himself to our goods? _Only_ for a bad purpose. Oh! G.o.d I saw it all. He had everything arranged for me to live with him. All my husband's things; all my things; and a tent. But I refused to accept him or his conditions. I resented the infamous proposals as strongly as I was able, and appealed to John Pritchard for protection and he generously granted my request. I will never forget his kindness to me as long as I live: "Yes, Mrs. Gowanlock, you can share my tent, with myself and family, and I will protect you."

That dated the commencement of the shameful treatment I received at the hands of Blondin, and whenever Pritchard was absent, it was meted out to me to the full. Blondin purchased my liberty, that would have been a good action if prompted by honorable motives, but in the absence of that it has no weight with me. He was amply repaid, he got our oxen, our waggon, our provisions, our clothes, we had money there, perhaps he got that. I have wondered since was it not my money with which he purchased me. By the help of G.o.d I was saved from him; and a life worse than death. If the worst had come I would have drowned or killed myself; but it did not. "G.o.d moves in a mysterious way."

During the next two months I was called upon to witness heart-rending scenes; first the brutal treatment of the dead bodies of our husbands', as well as cruelty to ourselves; for even under Pritchard's care we were not safe and did not know what minute would be our last. Not content with murdering them in cold blood, they must needs perform diabolical deeds which causes me to shudder when I think of it. They danced around them with demoniac glee, kicking and pulling them in every direction, and we were the unwilling witnesses of such behaviour. And when we had them buried under the church they burned it down, with dancing and yelling, accompanied with hysterical laughter. The sight was sickening to me and I was glad they moved in the direction of Fort Pitt, leaving that place with all its a.s.sociations of suffering and death. But when I heard that they intended to take the Fort, and destroy more life, I felt that I would rather remain where we were than witness any more scenes of so sad a nature. I have no happy tale to tell for this period was filled with woe and pain.

I will not enumerate further the trials I had to undergo day after day, but will pa.s.s rapidly on until the gladsome note was sounded by our hostess Mrs. Pritchard the "police are here." G.o.d delivered us again.

It is unnecessary to itemize in detail what pa.s.sed from that time until I reached Ontario. I have told my tale, simple and truthful, and what remains for me now is my old home, my old a.s.sociations, and my old life--the lines are hard to bear--"Thy will not mine be done."

Once I thought my cross to heavy, And my heart was sore afraid, Summoned forth to stand a witness For the cause of truth betrayed.

"Send, O Lord," I prayed, "some Simon, As of old was sent to Thee."

"Be a Simon," said the Master, "For this cross belongs to me."

Still is crucified my Saviour, I myself must a Simon be; Take my cross and walk humbly Up the slopes of Calvary.

TO ONE OF THE ABSENT.

You bade me good-bye with a smile, love, And away to the west wild and drear; At the sound of war's bugle shrill calling You went without shadow of fear.

But when I complained of your going, To face dangers untold in the west; You chided me gently by singing: "Encourage me dear 'twill be best."

"I know you will miss me each hour And grieve when I'm far, far away: But its duty's demand and I'm ready: Could I show the white feather to-day?

Oh! Now, you're my own bright eyed blessing And show the true spirit within: Those eyes now so fearlessly flashing Shall guide me through war's crash and din."

With your men you went cheerful and willing, To defend and take peace to the poor Helpless children and sad prisoned women Who had homes on Saskatchewan's sh.o.r.e, And now I'm so proud of you darling I can worship a hero so brave, While I pray for your safe home returning; When the peace flag shall quietly wave.

O'er the land where poor Scott's heartless murderer, Has added much more to his sin; By the cold-blooded uncalled for slaughter, Of Gowanlock, Delaney and Quinn, Who like many others now sleeping, Shroudless near the sky of the west, May be called the sad victims and martyrs Of Riel who's name we detest.

Many hearts are now mourning their lov'd ones Who died at their post, true and brave, In defiance of one heartless rebel, Who's life not e'en "millions" should save.

So keep your arms strong for the fray dear, I'll not wish you back 'ere the fight Shall decide for you, country and comrades, In favor of honour and right.

Let justice be done now unfailing Nought but _death_ can atone for his sin; Let the fate be has meted to others; By our dauntless be meted to him, Don't return until quiet contentment; Fills the homes now deserted out west, And the true ring of peace finds an echo, In each st.u.r.dy settler's breast.

And when you are homeward returning, With heart that has never known fear; Remember the love light is burning, Unceasingly, constantly, here And "Bright Eyes" will give you a welcome Which even a soldier may prize While the lips will be smiling with pleasure, That have prayed in your absence with sighs.

And the whole world shall ring with the praises Of Canada's n.o.blest and best; Who shoulder to shoulder defended, And saved the unhappy North-West While in coming years 'round the hearthstone Will be told how the dark coats and red, Put to rout Riel, rebels and half-breeds And aveng'd both the living and dead.

CLEOMATI.

20 Alexander St., Toronto.

SHOT DOWN.

They died a brutal death on the 2nd of April, disarmed first, and then shot down. The perpetrators of that outrage were actuated by fiendish instincts, nevertheless they had an intuition of what was meant by civilization. How they could have so forgotten the training they had received religiously and socially to have allowed the lower instincts of the savage to gain the ascendancy and fell in cold blood--not extortioners or land-grabbers--but their spiritual advisers; their superintendent; their farm instructor, and those who had left comfortable homes in the east in order to carry civilization into the remote places of the west. The work that they were performing was calculated to elevate the Indian and make him a better man; taking him from his miserable mode of living and leading him into a more happy and prosperous life for this and the next. It is unaccountable, and there is yet a something that will come to the surface that was the real cause for this dreadful act. At this point a brief sketch of the lives of some of those killed would not be out of place.

They numbered nine, the entire male population of that growing little village. There were T. Quinn, J. Delanay, J. A. Gowanlock, T. Dill, W.

C. Gilchrist, J. Williscraft, C. Gouin and Father Fafard and a priest from Onion Lake. Mr. Quinn was the Indian agent for that district well fitted in every particular for the position he held. Mr. Dill kept a general store and at one time lived at Bracebridge, was a brother of the member of Muskoka in the local house. Mr. Williscraft came from Owen Sound where his friends reside. C. Gouin was a native of the north-west.