As already stated, Captain
John MacDonald did not come to Prince Edward Island with the immigrants.
His business connections in Scotland were considerable at the time, and in
consequence, it took him a long time to complete the necessary
arrangements before quitting his native land forever. He accordingly
entrusted the management of his affairs in Prince Edward Island to a
younger brother, Lieutenant Donald MacDonald, to whom lie gave all the
legal powers necessary to settle definitely all difficulties, that might
happen to arise between the immigrants and their absentee proprietor.
But though absent in body
he was always present in spirit, and never forgot the immigrants, and the
Autumn after their departure he chartered a vessel in Scotland, which he
sent out to Prince Edward Island laden with food stuffs and other
necessaries for their use. This vessel however, never reached her
destination. She was either lost at sea or taken by a privateer, and her
failure to turn up was a serious blow to the immigrants whose stock of
provisions was fast running out, and who in existing circumstances could
not easily procure another supply. On his way to Prince Edward Island in
the following year Captain John touched at Boston and it was there he
learned the fate of the vessel he had sent out in the previous autumn, and
realizing that the needs of the Colonists must be very great, he at once
secured another vessel, loaded her with provisions and despatched her to
their relief with the shortest possible delay. He himself soon followed,
and reached Charlottetown a short time after the vessel.
On his arrival at
Scotchfort he found affairs not to his liking. The hardships of the
previous winter, accentuated by the scarcity of provisions had created
much discontent amongst his tenants, and in consequence loud murmurs were
heard on every side. Moreover, they were not at all satisfied with the
relations existing between them and the proprietor. The very thought of
having to pay rent was exceedingly distasteful to all without exception;
while the uncertainty of the land tenure was a source of grievous
disappointment . particularly to those who had been led to expect better
things in America.
This question of rents had
reached an acute stage, so that it was practically impossible to find a
solution satisfactory to all. Captain John offered to give leases for nine
hundred and ninety years upon what he considered very reasonable terms;
but as matters stood no concession made in these circumstances would
satisfy all persons concerned.
Before passing judgment on
the case, it is well to remember, that the immigrants, when leaving
Scotland, looked forward to the possession of free lands in America. They
hoped to be done forever with a system, which to them was a synonym of
tyranny and trouble. They were looking forward to a day when a greedy
proprietor with an odious rent roll would never again molest them, or
claim tribute under pain of seizure or eviction. In fact, the idea of
Landlordism was so hateful to them, it called up so many galling memories,
that they could not harbor the thought that an exotic so pestilential
should be allowed to taint the pure air of the New World. Hence very early
in their experience of Prince Edward Island, some of the immigrants
decided not to remain, but made up their minds to cross over to Cape
Breton Island, where they hoped to deal directly with the Government, and
others left the Estate of Captain John and moved further East particularly
to Lot 38, hoping to be able thus to better their conditions. Prominent
amongst these latter was Hugh Ban MacEachern and a brother Donald
MacEachern, who took up land at Savage Harbour, which in due time they
were able to purchase and hold as their own. Others moved further away,
keeping generally along the North Shore, and thus was set up a movement
that served as the beginning of the Scottish Parishes now to be found in
the Northern part of Kings County. This spreading out of the population,
though yet only on a small scale, gave additional labor to Father James,
who had to spend much of his time in travelling from place to place so as
to keep in touch with his scattered flock.
In a letter written at this
time to the Bishop of Quebec, he mentions the fact, that a number of
Acadians from New Brunswick, who had not seen a Priest for eleven years,
had come all the way to Malpeque that they might approach the Sacraments.
They tried by every lawful means to induce Father James to come with them
to New Brunswick and be their Pastor; but he would not consent to leave
his little flock in Prince Edward Island. He promised however, that he
would pay them visits from time to time, so that they would not be
entirely deprived of the ministrations of Mother Church. His sphere of
activity was thus considerably enlarged and the sum of his labors greatly
increased; but it was all for the greater glory of God, and Father James'
life story abundantly shows, that for this grand and holy motive he was
ever ready to endure hardships and make sacrifices. Accordingly for the
rest of his lifetime he added the Spiritual care of the people living on
the Gulf Shore of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia to his already too onerous
labors amongst the people of Prince Edward Island.
Father James did not live
to be old. Burdened down by countless cares and responsibilities, face to
face at almost every turn with well nigh superhuman difficulties, he wore
out long before the alloted span of life. He had spent thirteen years in
America, and in that interval of time he came in contact with every
Catholic inhabitant of Prince Edward Island, and furthermore paid many
visits to the Mainland, where the same round of arduous labors awaited
him. It is not surprising therefore, that his strength declined in early
life, and that he broke down at an age when the ordinary man is in the
prime of manhood, and able to give his most efficient service.
The end came to him in the
year 1785, when he had reached the age of forty-nine years. Perceiving his
strength to be failing he retired to the home of Colin MacKenzie of
Scotchfort, and there made his solitary preparation for death. This was in
very truth the saddest experience of the devoted Priest. In the very best
circumstances death is a terrible reality, and few there are, who can
contemplate its approach without fear and trembling. But God in his
wonderful love for mankind, has robbed it of much of its terror; because
by the ministrations of Holy Church the dying Christian is so buoyed up,
that he looks with calm and hopeful composure upon the hour of his final
dissolution. At the time of his greatest need Mother Church stands at his
bedside in the person of the Priest. He raises his hand over him in
absolution, he strengthens and comforts his soul with the bread of Angels,
he anoints him with Holy Oil that like a valiant athlete he may fight the
good fight, keep the Faith and win the imperishable crown, and thus
strengthened, encouraged, and as it were raised up above himself he is
able to exclaim with Holy exultation: "Oh death where is thy victory? Oh
death where is thy sting?"
But Father James lying on
his bed of death had none of these consolations. He had to face death
unaided and alone. No Priest was near to do for him what he had so often
done for others, amid many difficulties and sometimes at the peril of his
life. For him there was no Confession, no Viaticum, no Extreme Unction, no
Spiritual consolation whatsoever, except what he was able to draw from the
wealth of Faith, Hope and Charity that dwelt in the depths of his own
priestly heart ; and so he died without the administration of a brother
Priest, and surrounded by only the few friends who would gain access to
the narrow cottage of Colin MacKenzie.
Tradition long cherished by
the people tells a wonderful story of his last hour. He was apparently
dying, the sweat of death stood out in large beads on his forehead,, his
breathing was slow and labored, his voice had completely failed and he lay
unconscious slowly descending the dark valley. The few watchers kept close
to his bed, and watched in prayerful pity his wan features rendered
visible by the light of a candle that flickered near his head.
Suddenly his face seemed to
brighten up with the look of other years; he opened his eyes and turned
upon his friends a glance of recognition; for an instant there seemed to
hover on his lips a suspicion of a smile; he raised himself up on his
elbow and in a voice so clear and strong that it enkindled new hopes in
the hearts of those who knelt near, he exclaimed: "Preserve ye the Faith,"
and as the echoes of his words dissolved into silence he sank back on his
pillow dead.
It would be impossible to
picture a sadder scene than the burial of Father James. The stalwart men
of Scotchfort bore his body to the old French Cemetery, where it was laid
to rest amid reverential silence, broken only by the sighs and sobs of the
grief stricken people. But no Priest was there to chant the Requiem, no
official representative of Mother Church to unfold the splendor of her
ritual, and when the grave had been filled up, as dust had returned to its
kindred dust, the people crushed down by a feeling of utter helplessness,
fell on their knees around the grave that held forever the remains of him
who so long had been "their guide, their counsellor and friend." When all
was over and they arose to go away, a horrible sense of loneliness came
upon them, as if life were shorn of all ambition; and nothing now remained
that was worth while. An aching void was at every heart and a feeling of
utter desolation, such as they had not experienced since that sorrowful
day when afloat on the waters of the Ocean, they saw the blue lines of
their native land fade from their gaze forever.
But alas for human
affection and human gratitude! How weak and frail they are. How slender is
the thread they weave into the tissue of our daily lives. Father James
lying in the grave was soon forgotten. The generation that had known him
passed away, another took its place, the cares and preoccupations that
appeal to worldly minds usurped the place in their memories, that belonged
by right to him. Even his lonely grave ceased to be a place of interest,
and in course of time so passed out of memory that no one now can point
out with certainty the spot where he lies at rest.
Had he sought only for the applause of men, in all probability they would
not have so completely forgotten him, had he labored for the world,
perhaps he would today fill a niche in its temple of fame. But he was
moved by higher and holier motives, he sought to "lay up treasures in
Heaven, where neither the rust nor moth doth consume, and thieves do not
break through and steal," and being at rest with God, he may well forego
the fickle praises of men.
But in these latter days a great change has taken place in this respect.
The name of Father James has come forth from the oblivion of years, to
take its rightful place in the history of the Country. The descendants of
the people, amongst whom he lived, and for whose sake he sacrificed all
earthly things, are determined that he shall not be forgotten, that his
name shall not die, but that it shall survive in the minds of men despite
the vicissitudes of time and change. For he was in very truth, a real
Confessor of the Faith in the opening years of our history, and we would
indeed be recreant to our duty did we not enshrine in grateful memory the
story of his heroism. It would seem that God himself desires this
recrudescence of sympathetic appreciation, for, with the approbation of
Holy Church, a monument now stands at the central scene of his Priestly
activities, to carry down to future generations the glorious memory of his
life and labors. It stands, let us hope, for all time to proclaim to the
world that Prince Edward Island, though peacefully won to the Faith, has
had heroic men who would dare all things for Jesus Christ: men, whose one
absorbing passion was to be of service to their fellowmen, and men, who
making choice of a self-inflicted, martyrdom followed closely in the
footsteps of Him, who choose the cross upon which to die for the salvation
of the world. |