by Ken Busato
Chapter 6
It was late in the afternoon when Willie met me outside the mill. He burned kelp today. His hair was a complete mess, sticking in every direction, and his clothes were dirty and torn. Then again, I didn’t look much better myself.
“You ready to go Molly?” Willie asked.
“Yes. Let’s get as far away from here as we can.” I was tired. I did piecing work today. Walking back and forth between the cotton mules is tough. There was barely any time to catch my breath; the work needs to be done quickly.
“So Molly, what did they teach you today during your class time?”
“It was a story about Jesus,” I started. “It was the Sermon on the Mount from the Book of Matthew. He was sitting on a hill where everyone could see him, and he started to tell people about how they should live. Things like you should love your neighbour, and it’s important to turn the other cheek if someone does something wrong to you.”
Willie started to laugh. “Well,” he replied, “I guess Jesus was not Scottish. Turning the other cheek is something I don’t do.”
We continued to talk about other Bible stories as we walked. There was a large crowd gathered inside once we arrived. Willie found a couple of seats close to the back. We sat down, and I saw Mr. Docherty and his son Angus sitting closer to the front. We probably would have joined them too if there had been any room. As it was, we could barely squeeze into the seats we were able to find.
The meeting started quickly. A small man made his way up to the front. He kept trying to clear his voice to get people’s attention, but there was so much noise filling up the little church. Soon enough though, someone gave a loud whistle. That seemed to quiet everybody down.
“I want to thank you all for coming here today,” said the man. “My name is Ryan Isbister, and I represent the interests of a very noble man. Some of you may have heard of him already. He has had a very keen interest helping settle people for the last ten years. He is Thomas Douglas, the fifth Earl of Selkirk.”
I had never heard of him before, but it seemed there were people in the crowd who knew exactly who he was. Mr. Isbister continued. “The Earl of Selkirk has sent many families to America at his own personal expense. Some would say he was called by God himself to help those less fortunate. He would call himself a humble man, yet a man given a great opportunity to help others, especially the men and women of the Scottish Highlands.”
“Some of you may have heard about previous attempts to settle Highlanders in America. It has been ten years since the first group made their way to Prince Edward Island. He took them from a life of sickness, a life where they could not farm, and he gave those brave men and women the chance to start over again.”
“So what are you saying to us?” said a man two rows in front of us, “Does Lord Selkirk want to send more Highlanders to the same place?”
“No. His Lordship greatly admires the exploits of Sir Alexander Mackenzie. Mackenzie was the first man to make it all the way to the Pacific Ocean on foot. It was an incredible feat for such a noble Scotsman. He is truly an important man of our times, an explorer of great…”
“Get on with it,” someone from across the church yelled out. “We don’t have all night to hear you talk about how great all these men are.”
I turned to Willie, and I could see he was starting to get a little red in the face. He gets angry so easily. I knew it was a good thing I came along to make sure he didn’t start anything. “Molly,” he whispered, “I wish to hell these people would shut their mouths and let the man say his peace.”
Willie has little patience for people who should simply keep quiet. I reached over to take his hand in mine, hoping to calm him down a little. He looked at me and started to smile. “Why Molly, I do believe you’re blushing.” It certainly felt like I was.
Mr. Isbister, clearly frustrated by the interruptions, continued. “Some people would like to know about his Lordship’s plans. Please leave if you do not have the patience to hear what I have to say!” A silence fell over the crowd again. His rebuke shut the whole crowd up, especially those who felt it was their right to interrupt him.
“As I was saying, Mackenzie has explored vast areas of North America. These areas do not have any settlers. From what he has written, the land is perfect for cultivation. And not just any kind of person can start up a community in this area. It needs the strength and will of men and women from the Highlands.”
“Think about your situation for a moment. You have been taken from your homes, by large sheep interests. You now live in the city. There may be some improvement in your life the longer you stay, but you will never get back what you had. Your Highland life in Scotland is over. Things have changed in this land. It is a common tale in other cities like Glasgow and Edinburgh. Good Scottish people dispossessed, starting over. And why should you start over like this, working in the coal mines or burning kelp? Why not take the chance at something greater, a true adventure? You and your family could be great pioneers in a promised land, a land that would remind you of where you once lived.”
“Do not take my word alone. Let me introduce a man who has actually been where I am talking about. His name is Colin Robertson, and he comes back from across the ocean with a firsthand account of the land Lord Selkirk wishes to settle. Mr. Robertson was once in the employ of the fur trade, the North-West Company, and now he is an emigration agent for Lord Selkirk. Mr. Robertson…”
Unlike Mr. Isbister who was short and large in the stomach, Colin Robertson was tall and lean. He had long black hair, and his clothes were different. It looked like he was wearing strange animal skins. His shoes were different, made from fur, and they had strange decorations on them. People sat up a little in their seats with heads tilted forward to hear what this man, this explorer and adventurer, had to say.
“Thank you for the warm introduction Mr. Isbister. It is true, my fellow Scotsmen: I have spent many years across the ocean. I have seen many changes come over the land, especially in Upper and Lower Canada. People there, loyalists who refused to join with the Patriots in the United States, have made great lives for themselves. Farming is a noble profession in America. Farms are very large, and abundant harvests allow farmers to make extra money.”
“I was once a fur trader and trapper for the North West Company. I have travelled all over Rupert’s Land, the land surrounding the Hudson’s Bay. For many years, I made a living selling furs, from Fort William all the way to Montreal, yet the fur trade is not as profitable as it once was. With the wars against Napoleon, the demand for fur has gone down. Ships crossing the ocean do not carry many beaver pelts in their cargo holds. The fur trade areas need a new purpose, a purpose Lord Selkirk has seen all too clearly.”
I looked around the room to see people’s reactions. Many men seemed to nod in agreement.
“Lord Selkirk has bought a controlling share in the Hudson’s Bay Company. With his new position, he has obtained a large land grant from the company. The land Lord Selkirk has procured for settlement is four times the size of Scotland herself.” People started to buzz in the church when they found out how much land there was.
“Please understand,” continued Mr. Robertson, “The decision to become a Selkirk Settler should not be taken lightly. The voyage across the ocean is long and cold. The seas are not calm and quiet as you cross. Once you have made it to Hudson’s Bay, you must continue south down the river many miles. Yet, my fellow Scotsmen, what you see when you get to the settlement is a land completely suited to your old way of life on the Highland.”
“The settlement area is at the fork of two great rivers: the Red and the Assiniboine. The land surrounding these two mighty rivers has excellent soil and is perfect for growing crops. I have spent a little time in this area, and I speak from firsthand experience. Buffalo sometimes come to drink from these rivers, and the fish are plentiful. Sturgeon, catfish, pike, and whitefish can all be found in the rivers.
The whitefish are so great many men can sometimes catch up to thirty fish while they smoke their pipes. As Lord Selkirk’s representative, it’s my hope some of you will take the chance to travel to this magnificent land and lay down roots.”
Mr. Robertson stopped talking. I wondered if he was eyeing anyone in particular. Was there a certain type of person he was looking for, or was the invitation to settle open to anyone who wanted the adventure?
“Excuse me sir.” It was Mr. Docherty who was the first person to stand up to ask a question. “I was just wondering about a couple of things. How much is it to travel to this settlement, and what does Lord Selkirk want in return?”
“Those are excellent questions my good man,” boomed Mr. Robertson. “As to what Lord Selkirk wants, let me assure you it his intention to have the land put to good use. What better use could there be than the creation of a Scottish community? His Lordship’s motives are not selfish in the least. He feels for the plight of the Scottish, and settlement is his way to help his fellow countrymen. As settlers in this new land, you will not be seen as tenants. You are free men. And further, for those men who want to earn extra, employment will be provided from the Hudson’s Bay Company. Just think about the opportunities that await you: a free grant of land and possible extra employment. All men will be taken care of.”
“As to the first part of your question, Lord Selkirk knows the expense of travelling to the new colony is too large a burden for many men to bear. Any man who joins our cause will be given free passage across the water for his entire family. Food will be provided on the voyage across, and when you finally reach your intended destination, a settlement will be waiting for you to help you get started.”
“Excuse me sir,” said someone from across the church. “I have heard stories about the people who are already there, the fur traders and natives and others. Stories have been published in the Inverness Journal about what men might expect if they say. According to what is written, nothing but ill will come to people who take up with Lord Selkirk and venture out to Red River. Highlanders will not be welcome there, and those who already inhabit the area will see to it settlers are driven out.”
“Ah yes,” replied Mr. Robertson, obviously annoyed with the question. “The articles you are talking about are nothing but nonsense and lies. I have read what has been written, and the author who slanders Lord Selkirk’s grand idea does not even write his own name. No, he simply goes by the name of Highlander, as if that were enough. I, however, stand before you, ready to look each one of you in the eye, and tell you the truth about Red River. And the truth is simple. It is an adventure not for the weak at heart. The journey will be lengthy, and hardships will be faced along the way. But how many of you already face hardships each and every day? The coal mines, although providing employment, can be a dangerous place to work. The same also goes for those of you who work, and smell, like you spend your days with kelp. Would your life be easier if you stayed here? For some of you, the answer to that question is probably yes, but for others… well, you know this is not the life you want.”
“Please think about what I have said here. As a Christian, and a Scotsman, I swear all I have said is undeniably true. Some of you, if you say yes, have the chance to boldly venture forth to a new world that waits. Soon, you will see posted throughout town, places where you can sign up and discuss planning for your voyage with emigration agents. Plans are already in place, and ships will leave Stornoway in a couple of months. Count yourself fortunate if you find yourself one of the lucky ones to have booked passage.”
Mr. Robertson left the pulpit at the front of the church and sat down next to Mr. Isbister. Some people had more questions, and they quietly went up to Mr. Robertson who seemed more than willing to answer. My uncle seemed excited. He wanted to get a little closer to this man, this Scotsman who had seen and done so much. As we nudged our way forward through the crowd, we met Mr. Docherty and Angus.
“So Willie,” Mr. Docherty started, “What do you think?”
“Very interesting! Mr. Robertson makes a good case. I know how I feel about it. I want to leave here and start over again, but I will not do it without John, Fiona, and the kids. I could not leave poor Molly here.”
“There’s no way I would let you leave either, least not without me,” I replied.
“You’re an interesting family. At least that’s what my Arwen keeps telling me. To tell you the truth, I want to move on as well, but I have to make sure my wife is up for the adventure.”
We all moved closer to the front to listen to Mr. Robertson. At least Willie and Mr. Docherty wanted to listen some more. I was more interested in what he was wearing, especially the fur on his boots. I knew things would be different in Red River.