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BARBARA HECK.
H StOt)? Ot
£atli? AetboMdtn in Hmetica*
BY
W. H. WITHROW.
ij ' %Ji * &G*fL"\)
■^m
CHARLES H. KELLY, 2, CASTLE ST., CITY RD., E.C.;
AND PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C.
1897.
fV;.
PS8H^5:I^^SS
NAYKUN, OHRiaTY « LILLV. LTD.,
PRINTIRS,
HATTON WORK*^ 11S--118, fARRINaOON ROAD.
AND 90-88i CT. RRIOI tTRRBT. S.O.
■V^i'
1 1
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AUTHOR'S EXPLANATORY NOTE.
•/.i
^T^HE accompanying stoiy first appeared in the
'"' numbers of the Canadian Methodist Maga
sine, for the year 1880, and isl here reprinted from
those numbers. In 1892 it appeared in a con-
siderably expanded form, under the title "Brave
Barbara; The Story of a German Bible/' in the
Christian Herald, of London, without the present
writer^s knowledge or consent, and without any
recognition of his share therein. It was only by
accident, while travelling in Bulgaria, in May,
1892, that he obtained from a Greek gentleman
a copy of the Herald, containing a chapter of
that story.
The following year, 1893, the issue of the story
of ** Brave Barbara" was beg^un in the Christian
Herald of New York. On remonstrance of the
^■itt
4 AVTBOleS EXPLANATORY NOTE.
writer for this unwarrantable use of his work, th»
publisher of the Christian Hirald recognized his
rights therein by the payment of a sum agreed
upon, by printing at the head of each subsequei^t
instalment his name as its joint author. These
explanations are given In vindication of the origi-
nal authorship of this story, which is here reprinted
entirely from the original medium in which it
appeared, and in its original form.
■ W. H. WITHROW.
\
1 !
vs
CONTENTS.
"•mX
CHAPTBR L Paos.
TBit StXD OF YB9 Kingdom, 9
CHAPTBR n.
Tm 8SSD BBAR8 Fruit, 96
CHAPTBR m.
OiiO CoLOxnr Days, 36
CHAPTBR IV.
BZFAZTSZON OF MVtRODlSU, 47
CHAPTBR V.
War-ci,oud8— BznA, 56
CHAPTBR Vr.
Under Northern Stars, €4
CHAPTBR Vn.
War Scenes, 79
CHAPTBR vra.
O, THE I^NO AND Cruei. Winter, . 95
5
1
i.«c
CONTENTS,
CHAPTBRIX.
FAoa.
At Mmr tMLt DiSAMSD, XQ4
CHAPTB&X
Wemt-wiifosD PSAca^ • 1x4
CHAPTBR XL
QuAi3tK Ain> Cavaubr, . xas
CHAFTBRZn.
A Lppv Deaka,
X40
CHAPTBRXm.
PZOmtSR FR9ACHBR, * . . . zja
CHAPTER XIV.
Ths R^c^ruit,
159
CHAPtBR XV.
Tbs CAKP-il9STmo,
167
CHAPTBRXVL
A Hops Sprznos up.
179
CHAPTER XVH.
A BtASsmo nr Dxsouiss,
CHAPTER XVm.
A Hop* VHunvuKDt
190
\^
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C0JfTMN7S>
CBAPTBRXIZ.
A BiSKRV CBmiMMAI AND A 8aD Oin|»
• • • • •
CHAPT8&
Cwamo ScsMst, ns
ds
7/
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
The Custom House Quay, Limerick •
Portrait of Philip Embury - - , -
„ Barbara Heck
Philip Embury's House, New York ...
The First Methodist Service in New York -
" He Often Stood Behind the Little Wooden Desk "
The Old Rigging Loft, New York
John Street Church, New York
" Passed the Fort of Ticonderoga " , - -
The Grand Flume, near Lake Champlain -
Quebec
" As They Sat in the Soft and Silver Moonlight "
The Camp Meeting
Portrait of Bishop Asbury
Old Blue Churchyard - ....
Frontispiece.
facing page
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29
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36
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41
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69
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104
l> )•
148
M M
169
>> (I
221
M •!
228
BARBARA HECK,
Chapter I.
THE SEED OF THE KINGDOM.
ON a blithe spring morning in the year
1760 a remarkable group of persons
were assembled on the Custom-house Quay,
in the ancient city of Limerick, Ireland. An
air of hurry and excitement was apparent in
some of its members, which contrasted with
the singular calmness of the others. Bales,
boxes, bedding, and household gear were piled
up on the quay, or were being rapidly con-
veyed, with much shouting, by stout-armed
sailors, dressed in blue-striped guernsey shirts,
on board a vessel of about three hundred
tons' burden that lay alongside the pier, with
sails partially unbent, like a sea-fowl preening
her wings for flight This was evidently a
group of emigrants about to leave their mother
country for a land beyond the sea. Yet they
9
10
BARBARA HECK,
h
I
^
were emigrants of a superior sort, all decently
clad — the men in knee-breeches, comfortable
hose, and frieze coats ; and the women in blue
cloaks, with hoods, and snowy caps. It was
not poverty from which they fled; for their
appearance was one of staid respectability,
equally removed from wealth and abjectness.
Very affectionate and demonstrative were the
warm-hearted leave-takings of the friends and
neighbors about to be separated, many of
them never to meet on earth again.
"Ah! Mr. Philip, shall we niver hear ye
praich again?*' pathetically cried one kind-
hearted Irish widow. " Who *11 taich us the
good way when ye*re beyant the salt say?"
"You forget, Mother Mehan, that Mr.
Wesley will send one of his helpers to Balli-
garrene, and come himself sometimes."
" O I MoUie, darlint, shall we niver see yer
purty face again ? Shure it 's as beautiful as
the face of the Vargin herself," went on the
inconsolable creature, addressing d very young
woman, who looked the lovelier for her tears.
*• The very sight o* ye was betther than the
praist*s blessin' ! But I '11 not forget the good
i
THE SEED OF THE KINGDOM,
IZ
words yeVe tould me ; and Mr. Philip, and
swate Barbara Heck and lier good man, Paul.
The Lord love y# and kape ye all ; and all
the saints protect ye.*' The good woman had
been brought up a Roman Catholic, and had
not shaken off her old manner of speech, al-
though she had for some time been won, by
the singing and simple, heartfelt prayers of
her Protestant neighbors, to the warm-hearted
Methodist worship.
The voyagers at length, one by one, climbed
the gangway to the vessel's deck, amid much
wringing of hands and parting words, not un-
mingled with tears and sorrowful faces. The
apparent leader of the party, a young man
of singularly grave demeanor for his years,
dressed in dark frieze coat, not unlike the sort
now called " ulsters,'' approaching the tafirail
of the vessel, and taking from his breast-
pocket a well-worn Bible, read to those around
and to those upon the quay that sublime pas-
sage in the hundred and seventh Psalm, be-
ginning with these words :
" They that go down to the sea in ships^
that do business in great waters; these see
12
BJPSAJiA HECK,
Stfc
r '.''
the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the
deep."
As he continued to read^ his voice gathered
strength and volume till it rang out loud and
clear, and with an exulting tone in the closing
words :
**0, that men would praise the Lord for
his goodness and for his wonderful works to
the children of men !"
" Yes, my brethren," continued the speaker,
" God opened a way through the sea for our
fathers from the presence of their enemies,
and led them into this fair and goodly land.
But now it has become too strait for us, and
we go to seek new homes in the land of
promise in the West. We go forth with God
as our Protector and our Guide. He is as
near by water as by land. Many of our breth-
ren have gone before us to that land, and many
of you, we trust, will follow after. But on
whichever side of the sea we dwell, we dwell
beneath his care ; and for the rest, — the way
to heaven is as near from the wilds of America
as from the shores of dear old Ireland." v
" TLrue for ye ;" " It *s even so, so it is,"
\
THE SEED OF THE KINGDOM.
ejaculated several of his auditors, while others
answered mutely with their tears.
*'What mean ye to weep and break our
hearts?" said the first speaker, thinking of
another parting on the seashore.* ** Is that
all the Godspeed ye have for us ? Come, let
us sing a verse to cheer up our souls a bit ;"
and, with a mellow, resonant voice, he began
to sing a hymn, which one after another took
up, till it swelled into an exultant psean of
triumph :
" And let our bodies part,
To different climes repair, —
Inseparably joined in heart
The friends of Jesus are.
O let our heart and mind
Continue to ascend,
That haven of repose to find
Where all our labors end ;
Where all our toils are o'er.
Our suffering and our pain, —
Who meet on that eternal shore,
Shall neyer part again."
** And now let us commend one another to
God and the word of his grace," continued
the youthful speaker; and, kneeling down
upon the deck, in a fervent prayer he invoked
*Act8 xxi, 5-14.
**
«4
BARBARA HECK.
■,■•. 4'
God's blessing and protection on those who
should brave the perils of the deep and on
those who remained on the shore.
** Now, Mr. Embury," said the boatswain,
touching his cap, when this unusual service
was over, ''we must haul in the hawsers.
* Time and tide wait for no man.* See, the
current is already turning. We must fall down
the river with this tide. Shake out your top-
sails, there,*' he shoutei to the men in the
shrouds ; and to those on the shore, " Throw
off the moorings; let go the stem line." And
gently the vessel began to glide upon her way.
Farewell words and loving greetings are
spoken from the ship and from the shore.
Wistful eyes look through their gathering
tears. Many a fervent " God bless you," " God
keep you," is uttered. As the last adieus are
waved, and ^s the vessel onward glides^ are
heard, borne fitfully upon the breeze, the
strain,
" Who meet on that eternal shore
Shall never part again."
The sailing of that little vessel was an ap-
parently insignificant event, and, save the
\
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who
id on
waxxxy
rvice
^sers.
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down
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And
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Bring
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Philip Embury,
(/• 14)
:,'"r. ■*,
THE SEED OF THE KINGDOM,
IS
friends of those on board, little would the
great world have recked had it foundered in
the deep. But that frail bark was a new May-
flower^ freighted with the germs of an im-
mortal harvest, which was destined to fill the
whole land, the fruit whereof should shake
like Lebanon. Those earnest souls, in the
flush of youth and hope and love, bore with
them the immortal leaven which was to leaven
with its spiritual life a whole continent.
Of the leader of tiiis little company we
have already spoken. By the side of Philip
Embury stood his youthful wife, Mary Em-
bury, a blooming young matron of remarkable
personal beauty, not yet eighteen, and already
two years married. As the vessel glided down
the winding Shannon, her eyes looked wist-
fully through her tears upon the emerald
banks and purple uplands she should never see
again.
" Do you repent leaving the dear old home?"
asked her husband, as he threw his arm caress-
ingly around her.
"Wherever you are, Philip, there is home,"
she said, nestling in his arms and smiling
s
I6
BARBARA HSCK,
K
r t
through her tears, like the sun shining through
a shower of summer rain. ** Wherever thou
goest I will go ; thy people shall be my peo-
ple, and thy God my God/*
Near by stood Paul Heck, a man of grave
appearance and devout manner, and by his
side his wife, Barbara Heck, a blushing bride
of a few weeks, although nearly ten years
older than her bosom friend, Mary Embury.
Around them were grouped others, whose
names were destined to become familiar to fu-
ture generations as founders of Methodism in
the New World.
How came this group of Teutonic emigrants
to be leaving the shores of Old Ireland for the
New World? The answer to this question
will carry us far back in the history of Eu-
rope. In the providence of God, times and
places most remote from one another are often
indissolubly linked together by chains of se-
quences — ^by relations of cause and effect.
The vast organization of Methodism through-
out this entire continent, in this nineteenth
century, has a definite relation to the vaulting
ambition and persecuting bigotry of Louis
THE SEED OF THE KINGDOM,
17
XIV in the seventeenth century. That dis-
solute monarch, not sated with the atrocity
and bloodshed caused by his infamous revoca-
tion of the Edict of Nantes in 1685, whereby
half a million of the best subjects of Prance
became exiles forever, twice ruthlessly invaded
the German Palatinate. In a few weeks Mar-
shal Turenne overran the country, and gave
to the flames and sack and pillage thirty thriv-
ing towns.
Unable to maintain his conquests against
the resolute Protestant inhabitants and their
allies, the Grand Monarque, the most polished
gentleman in Europe, deliberately gave orders
from his palace of Versailles for the utter de-
vastation of the country. The inhuman or-
ders were obeyed with atrocious fidelity.
Eighty thousand men, trained in the art of
slaughter, were let loose upon the hapless
country, which they ravaged with fire and
sword. Heidelberg, Manheim, Spires, Worms,
Oppenheim, Bingen, and Baden, towns and
cities of historic fame, with their venerable
cathedrals, their stately palaces, and their
homes of industry, together with many a
i8
BARBARA HECK,
humble hamlet and solitary farmstead, were
given to the flames. At the old imperial city
of Spires the French soldiers stole the orna-
ments off the coffins, and mockingly scattered
to the winds the dust of the German em-
perors.
"Crops, farms, vines, orchards, fruit-trees,"
says a veracious chronicler, "were all de-
stroyed ; and this once rich and smiling land
was converted into a desolate wilderness." In
the bleak and bitter winter weather a hundred
thousand houseless peasants — ^gray-haired sires
and childing mothers and helpless children —
wandered about in abject misery " imprecat-
ing," says the chronicler, " the vengeance of
Heaven upon the heartless tyrant who had
caused their ruin." Everywhere were found
the corpses of men frozen to death.
Thousands of the wretched fugitives took
refuge within the lines of the English general,
Marlborough. More than six thousand came
to Irondon, reduced from affluence to poverty,
and were fed by the dole of public charity.
A number — and with these we are at present
more particularly interested — emigrated, un-
THE SEED OF THE KINGDOM,
19
der the auspices of the British Government,
to Ireland, and settled in the county of Lim-
erick, near Rathkeale. They received grants
of eight acres of land for each person, young
and old, for which the government paid the
rent for twenty years. In a contemporary list
of these ^* Irish Palatines " occur the names,
afterwards so familiar in the United States and
Canada, of Embury, Heck, Ruckle, Sweitzer,
and others. They are described by a historian
of their adopted country as frugal and honest,
"better clothed than the generality of Irish
peasants. Their houses are remarkably clean,
besides which they have a stable, cow-house,
and neat kitchen garden. The women are
very industrious. In short, the Palatines have
benefited the country by increasing tillage,
and are a laborious, independent people, who
are mostly employed on their own farms."
In the good Protestant soil of those hearts
providentially prepared for the reception of
the gospel, the seed of Methodism was early
sown, and brought forth its natural fruit of
good living. Wesley and his " helpers " pene-
trated to their humble hamlets, and these poor
■■'■■--^■■vii
^1
20
BARBARA HECK.
refugees received the Word with gladness.
When John Wesley, in 1758, passed through
Ireland, preaching day and night, he records
that such a settlement could hardly elsewhere
be found in either Ireland or England.
In this remarkable community was born,
in the year 1734, the child destined to be the
mother of Methodism in the New World.
Her family seem to have been of respectable
degree, and gave the name Ruckle Hill to
the place of their residence in Balligarrene.
Barbara Ruckle was nurtured in the fear of
the Lord and in the practice of piety. She
grew to womanhood, fair in person, and
adorned especially with the graces of the
Christian character. In her eighteenth year
she gave herself for life to the Church of her
fathers, and formally took upon her the vows
of the Lord,
" From the beginning of her Christian
life," records her biographer, " her piety was of
the purest and profoundest character. The
Wesleyan doctrine of the Witness of the Spirit
was the inward personal test of piety among
vows
Barbara Heck
{p. 20.)
THE SEED OF THE KINGDOM.
21
the Methodists of tHat day ; and it was the
daily criterion of the spiritual life of Barbara
Heck. When, in extreme age, she was about
to close her life-pilgrimage in the remote
wilds of Canada, after assisting in the founda-
tion of her Church in that province as well as
in the United States, she could say that she
had never lost the evidence of her acceptance
with God for twenty-four hours together, from
the day of her conversion. She was of a
thoughtful and serious habit of mind, calm,
self-collected, and quietly resolute. She had,
through her entire Christian life, intervals of
sadness and of severe mental conflict ; and
there are traditions among her descendants
which show that these trials were not unlike
those of the great Reformer when enduring
the "hour and power of darkness" in the castle
of Wartburg. Her German Bible, her familiar
companion to the end of her days, was her
consolation in trial, and prayer her habitual
resource.
As the sun went down beneath the western
wave, the little company of emigrants on ship-
22
BARBARA HECK,
L
< /
board gathered on the deck to take their last
look at the dear old land which had been to
most of them the land of their birth. The
lofty summit of Brandon Hill lay golden in
the light of the setting sun, then turned to
ashen gray, which deepened in the shades of
twilight to a rich purple hue, and then sank
beneath the waves. Not many words were
spoken, but not a few tear^ trickled silently
down the cheeks of the women, whose sepa-
ration from their native land wrung their very
heartstrings. The rising wind whistled through
the shrouds. The long roll of the Atlantic
rocked the frail bark like a cradle in the deep,
and made retirement to the crowded little
cabin agreeable to most of the party.
By the light of the swaying lamp, Philip
Embury, who, though almost the youngest
man of the company, was its acknowledged
leader and head, read words of comfort from
the Book Divine. As the waves smote with
an ominous sound upon the wooden walls
which seemed such a frail defense between
them and the unfathomable sea, they enbraved
their hearts by singing the grand old hymn,
THE SEED OF THE KINGDOM,
23
to which their present position gave a new
depth of meaning —
« The God that rules on high, i
That all the earth surveys,
That rides upon the stormy Sky
And calms the roaring seas ;
This awful God is ours,
Gur'Father and our Love;
He will send down his heavenly powers
And carry us above."
Embury then called on the grave, God-fear-
ing Paul Heck to lead the devotions of the
little band, and with deep emotion he com-
mended them all to the Fatherly keeping of
that God who guides the winds in their course
and holds the seas in the hollow of his hand.
Many weary weeks of storm and calm,
cloud and sunshine, passed by, the dreary
monotony of sea and sky rimmed by the un-
broken horizon, without sight of sail or shore.
At last was heard the joyous cry of " Land !
Land ahead!" Daily prayer and praise had
made the little ship a floating Bethel, and now
glad thanksgiving ascended from every heart.
Eager eyes scanned the horizon, rising higher
and becoming more clearly detined.
**How beautiful it isl" exclaimed Mary
24
BARBARA HECK,
/
Embury, as, wan and weak with long seasick-
ness, she leaned upon the vessePs rail at her
husband's side, as the wooded heights of Staten
Island came in view. And as the splendid
bay of New York, with its crowded shipping,
opened out, she exclaimed, with childlike sur-
prise: " Why, I believe it *s as large as I^imer-
ickl Who would have thought it in this New
World!"
Still greater was the surprise of the whole
party when, on the loth of August, 1760 — a
day memorable in the religious history of this
continent — they landed in New York and be-
held the crowded and busy streets of a city
which, even then, was more pcpulous than
any in Ireland, not excepting the ancient cap-
ital, Dublin, than which they were slow to be-
lieve there was anything finer upon earth.
A feeling of loneliness, however, came over
their hearts as they left the floating house in
which they had been domiciled for twelve long
weeks, to seek new homes in the land of
strangers. But soon they discovered some of
their countrymen, and even a few former ac-
quaintances who had previously emigrated.
THE SEED OF THE KINGDOM.
as
and to whom they felt themselves knit by
closer ties because all others were such utter
strangers. Philip Embury soon obtained em-
ployment at his trade as a house-carpenter and
joiner, in which he possessed more than ordi-
nary skill ; and the others of the honest and
industrious Palatine community were shortly
engaged in some one or other of the manifold
occupations of the busy and thriving town.
Embury for a time endeavored to be faith-
ful to his duty as class-leader and local
preacher, by attempting some religious care
for his Methodist companions in exile from
their native land. But we are told that they
fell away from their steadfastness amid the
temptations of their new condition, possibly
saying like the exiled Jews of old, " How shall
we sing the I^ord^s song in a strange land ?'*
Embury in turn became discouraged, lost his
religious zeal, and, constitutionally diffident,
for some years ceased to exercise among them
the duties of his office. Barbara Heck con-
tinued meanwhile to nourish her religious life
by daily communion with God and with her
old German Bible.
tVf.
W
Chapter II.
THi3 SEED BEARS FRUIT.
FIVE busy years have passed away since the
arrival of our Irish Palatines in the New
World. The home longings for the land of
their birth have been in large part succeeded
by feelings of patriotic pride in the prosperity
and rapid progress of the land of their adop-
tion. Their religious prosperity, however, had
not kept pace with that of their outward es-
tate ; and they had in large degree become
conformed to the worldliness of the society in
which they lived.
Now, however, the seeds of grace, long dor-
mant, were to germinate and bring forth the
first fruits of the glorious harvest which was
yet to fill the land. This happy result was
brought about in this wise : Another company
of Palatine emigrants, in the autumn of 1765,
arrived at New York. Among them were Paul \
Ruckle, brother of Barbara Heck, Jacob Heck,
her brother-in-law, and other old neighbors
a6
THE SEED BEARS FRUIT,
a7
and friends. A few only of these were Meth-
odists; the others were characterized by the
worldliiicss of life and conduct which marked
the period. The renewal of old friendships
led to much social visiting, not unmixed with
hilarious and not always innocent amusement.
One of the characteristics of the times was a
passion for card-playing — a device of the devil
for killing time in an age when books and in-
tellectual occupations were few, but which has
still less excuse amid the affluence of these oc-
cupations at the present day.
In this amusement, varied by talk of auld
lang syne in the land beyond the sea, a social
group was one evening indulging in the house
of one of their number — although there is no
evidence that any of them were Methodists or
connected with Embury. Casually, or let us
say rather, providentially, Mrs. Barbara Heck
called at the house, which was that of an ac-
quaintance, to exchange greetings with her old
friends. She had faithfully maintained, through
all these years a close and constant walk with
God. Her conscience was therefore sensitive
to the least approach or appearance of evil.
' :m
2&
BARBARA HECK,
Seeing before her what she regarded as a snare
of the devil for the ruin of souls, and inspired
with a holy boldness, she snatched the cards
from the table and flung them into the open
fireplace, exclaiming:
"What, friends ! will ye tamper with Satan's
tools, and fear ye not to be sore hurt thereby?
Touch them no more, I beseech you, and pray
God to forgive you your sin and folly."
"Amen!" said one of the number, con-
science-stricken at this reproof. " I repent
that ever I touched them. I will pay back
every penny I ever won ; for it is not mine,
nor honestly earned. God helping me, I will
never touch the gaudy and seductive paste-
boards again."
" Sure, where 's the harm of a quiet game
among old friends?" said another, rather in-
dignant at the unceremonious interruption of
the game. " I never play for high stakes ;
and if I win sometimes, why, sometimes I lose ;
and that makes it all even."
" Can ye ask God's blessing on the game?"
demanded the earnest-souled Barbara. " Can
ye shuffle these paltry toys to his glory and for
Sim",' i
Philip Embury's House, New York. (p. 29.)
THE SEED BEARS FRUIT.
29
■^1
your souPs weal?" and she pointed with the
majestic air of an ancient prophetess to the
crisped and burning cards lying writhing in
the flames. " If so, play on. But well I wot,
your own hearts will say nay."
" Barbara is right," said her brother, Thomas
Ruckle ; " I never knew her to be wrong.
God is speaking to us through her. Let us
listen to his voice. Let us take heed to our
ways
)>
The little company dispersed, seemingly
saddened and sobered by the fearless reproof
of an honest and God-fearing woman, faithful
to her convictions of duty and her intuitions
of right. No more cards were played in^ that
house, and deep religious convictions settled
upon not a few minds of the company.
Nor did the results end here. Under a di-
vine impulse, Barbara Heck went straightway
to the house of her cousin, Philip Embury,
and appealed to him no longer to neglect his
duty, but to exhort and warn and reprove the
members of that Palatine community, of which
God by his providence had made him the
leader and religious adviser. With a keen
1
yafit ' ^yj- ' ''- '/ ' - ' ' "y^ '■ '' ■ ' i'" ' ^'" ' '."^ '-- ' - .'^ ' iT-r ' T '' -'' ''' '*''' ' '^V''\.<*'!f '' - '' i'' ' <^-W ' : ^' '^'j- '' "-! -'^
?.-
30
BARBARA HECK.
IwN^
sense of the spiritual danger of the little flock,
she entreated him with tears, and exclaimed :
" Philip Embury, you must preach to us,
or we shall all go to hell together, and God
will require our blood at your hand."
" I can not preach ; I have neither house
nor congregation," he replied, not without a
feeling that, like Jonah, he was flying from the
call of God.
*' That shall not long be your excuse," in-
terrupted this intrepid woman. ** I will find
the congregation and you shall find the house.
Why, this very room in which we stand will
do to begin in; and when it becomes too strait,
the I^rd will provide another."
With glowing zeal this new Deborah arose
and went forth to begin the great work of or-
ganizing the first Methodist service in the New
World. That day was kindled a fire which
has wrapped a continent in its holy flame, and
which, by God*s grace, shall never be put out
while the world shall stand. At the appointed
time of service a little congregation of &>ur
persons was assembled in the humble parlor
of Philip Embury, to whom, with penitent
flock,
imed:
to us,
1 God
house
lout a
»m the
e," in-
U find
house,
^d will
strait,
arose
of or-
eNew
which
e, and
at out
ointed
f four
parlor
nitent
o
K
O
u
>
7)
H
75
l-H
Q
O
X
H
(4
H
en
OS
X
H
THE SEED BEARS FRUIT.
31
confessions of his own sliortcomings and neg-
lect of duty, and amid tears of contrition and
a fresh dedication to God, he broke the bread
of life.
"That little group," writes Dr. Abel Ste-
vens, " prefigured the future mission of Meth-
odism in its widespread assemblies throughout
the New World, as preaching the gospel to the
poor. Small as it was, it included black and
white, bond and free; while it was also an ex-
ample of that lay ministration of religion
which has extended the denomination in all
quarters of the world, and of that agency of
woman which Wesley organized, and to which
an inestimable proportion of the vitality and
power of the Church is attributable. The
name of Barbara Heck is first on the list ; with
her was her husband, Paul Heck ; beside him
sat John Lawrence, his * hired man ;' and by
her side an African servant called * Betty.'
Such, let it ever be remembered, was the germ
and type of the congregations of Methodism
which now stud the continent from the Atlan-
tic to the Pacific, from the Mexican Gulf al-
most to the perpetual snows of the north ;
s
''■ il
3a
BARBARA HECK,
they could hardly have had a more fitting
prototype."
At the close of this first Methodist sermon
ever preached in America, Philip Embury or-
ganized his congregation into a class, which
he continued to meet from week to week.
The little company continued to increase, and
soon grew too large for Philip Embury's house.
They hired a more commodious room, which
was immediately crowded. Philip Embury,
toiling all the week for the bread that perish-
eth, continued from Sabbath to Sabbath to
break unto the people the bread of life. As
in the case of the Great Preacher, " the com-
moii people heard him gladly." He was one
of themselves, and spoke to them of common
needs and of a common Savior, and their
hearts responded warmly to his earnest words.
One day the humble assembly was a good
deal startled by the appearance among them,
of a military officer with scarlet coat, epaulets,
and sword. The first impression was that he
had come in the king's name to prohibit their
meetings. They were soon agreeably unde*^
ceived.
THE SBBD BEARS FRUIT,
33
When the sermon was ended^ he made his
way through the little congregation^ who stood
somewhat in awe of his official dignity, to the
preacher's desk. He warmly clasped Embury
by the hand, and said :
** Sir, I salute you in the name of the Lord*
My name is Captain Thomas Webb, of His
Majesty's service; not only a soldier of the
king, God bless him, but also a soldier of the
Cross and a spiritual son of John Wesley."
Warmly was the newcomer welcomed as
" a brother beloved," and he was courteously
invited to address the congregation. Without
any hesitation, he complied, and in the easy
manner of a polished English gentleman he
briefly, in Methodist phrase, related his relig-
ious experience.
He had been a faithful soldier of King
George, and bore in his person the marks of
his devotion to his service. He wore over one
of his eyes a dark shade, looking like a badge
of mourning for the loss of the sight of that
injured orb. He had rushed through the surf
against a murderous fire at the siege of lA)uis-
burg, in Cape Breton, where he lost his right
34
BARBARA HBOC,
p <
i,"i»
eye. He had been among the first to climb
the Heights of Abraham at Quebec, and had
been severely wounded in fighting under
Wolfe, in that memorable battle which closed
the long conflict between English Protestant-
ism and French Catholicism for the possession
of the broad continent. Bight years later he
heard John Wesley preach in Bristol, and
forthwith recognized him as the spiritual leader
under whose captaincy he was henceforth to
wage a nobler warfare than that of arms. He
considered that his life had been providentially
spared in the day of battle to be fully conse-
crated to the service of his Divine Master. He
used often, in conversation with his friends, to
narrate with devout gratitude his deliverance
in the hour of peril.
**As I was leading with my company," he
used to say, ** I suddenly felt a sharp pang,
followed by a flash of light, and then all was
dark. I was borne to the rear, and carried
with the rest of the wounded to the boats and
rowed to the British camp. I was almost
gone, and had just consciousness enough to
hear the soldiery say: *He needs no help.
THE SEED BEARS FRUIT,
35
He '8 dead enough.' I mustered st*^' ugth to
say, ' No, I 'm not dead yet,' when I fainted
away, and all became black again. The sur-
geons say that it the ball had struck a hair's
breadth higher or lower I would have been a
dead man. But God in mercy spared me. I
was not then fit to die. And now I sorrow not
at the loss of bodily sight, since he has opened
the eyes of my mind to see wondrous things
out of his law."
'i I
-%t
m
mmmm
t i
Chapter III.
OI,D COI^ONY DAYS.
CAPTAIN WEBB was serving as barrack-
master at the quaint old town of Albany,
where there was a considerable body of British
troops, when he first heard of the little band
of Methodists at New York. He sought an
early opportunity of aiding, by his presence
and influence, the struggling religious com-
munity upon which the more aristocratic por-
tion of society looked down with a haughty dis-
dain. In his scarlet coat and sash and gold
epaulettes, he often stood behind the little
wooden desk that served as a pulpit, and lay-
ing his sword across the open pages of the
Bible, preached with an energy and an elo-
quence that soon crowded the house#
So greatly did the congregations increase,
that it shortly became necessary to seek a
larger room. An old rigging loft in William
Street was therefore engaged, and roughly
36
%
tf]
H
H
(4
CO
»4
H
OLD COLONY DAYS,
37
fitted up for worship. The naked rafters of
the roof still remained uncovered. A some-
what tarry smell clung to the walls. An old
ship's figurehead — a "gypsy king" with gilded
crown, supposed to represent one of the East-
ern Magi — supported the pulpit and formed
an excellent reading desk. When Captain
Webb stood behind it in full regimentals, he
looked not unlike an admiral standing in the
bow of his ship, or a warrior riding in a
triumphal car. This unwonted state of affairs
was the occasion of no small comment in the
gossiping old town.
"They do say," said Squire Blake, the
rather pompous custom-house officer of the
port of New York, to Captain Ireton, a Boston
skipper, for whom he was writing out the
clearance papers of the good ship Betsy
Janey bound for Barbadoes — "they do say
that an officer of the king's army preaches for
those Methody people up there at the Rigging
I/oft. Well I well ! Wonders will never cease.
I must go and hear for myself; though I would
hardly like to be seen encouraging such schism
if it were not that the presence of an officer of
38
BARBARA HECK,
;*■■"
Captain Webb's well-known loyalty really
makes it quite respectable.^'
'*Well, neighbor," replied the gallant
skipper, who had imbibed the democratic no-
tions which were even then floating in the
atmosphere of Bunker Hill, " if the thing is
not respectable in itself, all the king's horses
and all the king's men won't make it so."
M Perhajps not, in the abstract ; but for all
that it makes a good deal of difference to loyal
subjects whether this new-fangled religion is
prosecuted by the bailiffs or patronized by
gentlemen in the king's livery ;" and here the
worthy custom-house officer smiled somewhat
grimly, as if the skipper's speech were half
treason.
''The king may want some more active
service than that from his officers before long,
if all I hear in the port of Boston is true," re-
plied the skipper, picking up his papers.
" They always were a stiff-necked set of
rebels in Massachusetts Colony, I will say to
your face, even if you do hail from there. I
hope this is no new treason they are hatching."
*' O, I 'm not in any of their secrets," said
OLD COLONY DAYS,
39
the honest captain ; ** but you know that these
absurd Navigation Laws hamper trade sadly,
and there are loud murmurs at all the seaports
about them. I '11 venture to say that unless
our ships get a better chance to compete for
the West Injy trade, there *11 be flat rebellion
or wholesale smuggling before long."
'*Have a care, Skipper Ireton," answered
the Tory officer, shaking his head with an air
of menace. "The king's troops well know
how to deal with the first, and his customs'
officers will do their best to prevent the
second."
Notwithstanding these efforts, however,
these same officers did not always succeed in
their virtuous endeavors. The unjust dis-
crimination in favor of British-built shipping
was felt by the Colonists to be an intolerable
grievance.
The general policy of Great Britain toward
her American Colonies was one of commercial
repression. The Navigation Laws (passed
165 1 by the Commonwealth, confirmed by
Charles II, 1660) prohibited the exportation
from the Crown Colonies of certain products.
■^m
'^
40
BARBARA HECK,
i
I
'
}
r
if'
P r
w
r-}
J/
except to Great Britain and in British ships ;
or the conveyance of any products of Asia,
Africa, or America to any port in Great Brit-
ain, except in British ships, or in ships of the
country of which the goods were the product.
American merchants were, therefore, precluded
by law from the direct importation of sugar,
tea, spices, cotton, and similar foreign products.
These were required first to be shipped to
Great Britain, and then to be reshipped to
America at greatly-increased cost and delay.
The Colonial traders largely disregarded this
prohibition, and grew rich by smuggling,
which acquired in time a sort of toleration.
With the growth of American commerce, im-
perial jealousy was aroused. The Colonial ves-
sels were seized, and the contraband goods
confiscated by British ships or by the officers
of His Majesty's customs. These confisca-
tions sometimes took place with very little
ceremony, if not with violence ; and it not un-
frequently happened that serious riots occurred.
The manufacture of certain materials, as wool
and iron, was also, in defiance, it was felt, of
natural rights, prohibited in the Colonies, The
So/?WW^?^^s-^-
•
ps;
sia,
rit-
the '
let
-,
led
rar,
cts.
*^ i
to \
!|
ay.
his
.
ng,
on.
im- /
res-
"1(1 e
•
ers
,.
ca-
:tle '
in-
.-E
ed.
ool \
^
of ,
*he
The Old Rigging Loft,
New York {p. 41.)
Mm€:0mm^^^^m^^^mM
OLD COLONY DAYS,
41
t i
oligarcHical power of the Crown officials, and
the offensive assumptions of the Church estab-
lished by law, moreover, gave deep offense to
the democratic communities of the American
Colonies.
The incidents above mentioned are intro-
duced simply to indicate the general temper
of the times. It is not the purpose of this
story to recount the political events of the
American Revolution, but to trace the develop-
ment of Methodism in the New World.
The old rigging^loft soon became too small
to hold the congregation which thronged its
meager space. Many, doubtless, were attracted,
like our good friend Squire Blake, at first by
curiosity to hear an officer in scarlet coat, with
sword £^d epaulettes, preach from his place
behind the carved figure-head. Sometimes,
however, they were disappointed by the ap-
pearance in the pulpit of the plain and simple
Philip Embury, whom any day in the week
they might see plying his vocation of car-
penter.
" It is bad enough," complained Squire
Blake, after one of these occasions, ** to see an
yff?''^
42
BAXBAHA HECK,
I
fr'f
f
officer, who is both a scholar and a gentlemen,
usurping the place of an ordained clergymen
in this manner; but to see a mere mechanic
stand up to preach to his betters, it is intoler-
able. It is subversive of all social order. It
confuses all distinctions of rank. What 's the
world coming to, I wonder? It will end in
flat rebellion, I see plain enough."
"Well, your worship," remarked John Stub-
bins, a rather grimy-looking cordwainer, who
was one of the group to whom these remarks
were made, "it suits simple folk like us better
than the learned talk of Dr. Whiteband down
at Old Trinity. I went there t'other Sunday,
and it was all about the lilanichees and the
ApoUinarian heresy, that happened more than
a thousand years ago ; and a lot of things I
never heard of before, an* did n*t know any-
thing about after I had heard *em. Now,
Master Embury tells us about our plain, every-
day duties — that men in my trade mustn't
scamp their work nor put in bad leather; and
the grocer must give good weight and meas-
ure, and not sand his sugar, nor mix peas with
his coffee. And we know that he does honest
\
U,
OLD COLONY DAYS,
43
n
ic
r-
[t
t
a
I-
S
r
1
work for fair wage Hisself. When he makes
a table or a chist of drawers, it 's sure to be
seasoned stuff and well put together. His
preachin' and practice agree, you see, and one
helps to clinch the other."
" That sort of talk may do for the lower
classes, I suppose," said the squire, taking
snuff pompously. ** It does n*t need a Doctor
of Divinity to preach like that. I could do it
myself if I had a mind to."
" O, I dare say," replied the honest cobbler,
with a twinkle in his eye and a wink to his
neighbors who were standing around — ^he was
of rather a democratic turn of mind and a de-
spiser of dignities, like many of his craft — " I
suppose you could if only you had the ndnd
to ; that 's all that *s wanting."
The rather thick-witted squire didn't see
the point of the somewhat derisive laugh that
ran around the circle, as he strutted away,
swaggering his gold-headed cane and dusting
the snuff off the frills and ruffles of his shirt
front. He knew that he was not popular, but
he did n't see that he had done or sp.id any*
thing to be laughed at.
:-i 1 1
■■,« I
'i I
1!
44
BARBARA HECK,
The great majority of the wors^hipers at the
humble rigging loft, however, were drawn
there by sincere religious feeling. There was
an honest heartiness about the simple services
that came home to their every-day needs — to
every man's business and bosom. The warm-
hearted love-feasts and class-meetings, and the
hearty singing, were greatly prized by the toil-
worn men from workshop or anvil, from dock
or loom; and by housewives and mothers,
weary with their household cares.
"Ah I but it do seem just like the Methody
preachin' and singin' I heard at dear old
Gwenap and Penzance, years agone," said
Mrs. Penwinnen, an honest Cornish woman,
to her next-door neighbor. " Many *s the time
I 've heard Mr. Wesley preachin' of an early
mornin' at the mine's mouth, afore the men
went down, or at eventide, when they came
up to grass again."
"Eh, did ye now?" replied good Dame
Durbin, as she stood with her door-key in her
hand. " I never heard tm :^ but I 've often
heard honest John Nelson on Bamsley Woald,
; Id Yorkshire. Ay, an' I 've seen un pelted
fi
OLD COLONY DAYS,
45
tlirottgh the town wi' rotten eggs, &n' help'd
to do it mysen, God forgive me, afore I know'd
what a mpn o* God he wor. He wor just a
common sojer, ye wot, and the parson hissen
headed the mob agen him/'
Here came up stout Frau Stuyvesant, still
wearing the quaint gold headband of her na-
tive Holland, who had also been attracted by
the hearty Methodist singing of the service.
" Mynheer ist goot prediger," she said, in
her broken English. "Men say his preach-
ment ist same as myn countreeman, Arminius
of Oudewater, in Utrecht. He speak goot
worts."
Like flotsam and jetsam of the sea, these
three creatures of diverse nationalities had
been blown across the broad Atlantic, and
drifted like seaweed into the quiet eddy of
the old rigging loft of William Street, and
there had found that rest and food for their
souls for which their whole moral nature
yearned. And this was but a type of the mis-
sion of Methodism in America and throughout
the world — to supply the deep soul-needs of
humanity of many tribes and in many climes.
i '' I
} I
* '*
i
r
iH
''I
^\
■ 'I
♦6
BAXBAXA HECK,
The miracle of Pentecost was repeated, and
by lier missionary agencies these strangers
and foreigners — Swedes, Germans, Norwe-
gians, Sclav and Turk, Hindu and Chinese —
each has heard in his own mother tongue the
wonderful works of God.
H'
\
Chapter IV.
EXPANSION OF METHODISM.
THE old rigging loft whicH held the germ
of the mighty growth of Methodism in
America, like a flower-pot in which an oak
was planted, soon became too small for such
rapid expansion. " It could not/' says a con-
temporary writer, "contain half the people
who desired to hear the word of the Lord."
The necessity for a larger place of worship be-
came imperative ; but where could this humble
congregation obtain the means for its erection?
Barbara Heck, full of faith, made it a subject
of prayer, and received in her soul, with inex-
pressible assurance, the answer, " I, the Lord,
will do it." She proposed an economical plan
for the erection of the church, which she be-
lieved to be a suggestion from God. It was
adopted by the society, and " the first struc-
ture of the denomination in the Western Hemi-
sphere," says Dr. Stevens, " was a monumental
image of the humble thought of this devoted
* 47
1;
^«
-
48
BAXBAXA HECK,
woman. Captain Webb entered heartily into
the undertaking. It would probably not have
been attempted without his aid. He sub-
scribed thirty pounds towards it, the largest
sum, by one-third, given by one person." They
appealed to the public for assistance, and the
subscription-list is still preserved, represent-
ing all classes, from the mayor of the city down
to African female servants, designated only by
their Christian names.
A site on John Street, now in the very
heart of the business portion of the city, sur-
rounded by the banks of Wall Street and the
palaces of trade of Broadway, was procured,
and a chapel of stone, faced with blue plaster,
was in course of time erected. As Dissenters
were not allowed to erect " regular churches '*
in the city, in order to avoid the penalties of
the law it was provided with a fireplace and
chimney. Its interior, though long unfinished,
was described as " very neat and clean, and
the floor sprinkled over with sand as white as
snow." *' Embury, being a skillful carpenter,
wrought diligently upon its structure ; and
Barbara Heck, rejoicing in the work of her
.'■'^
EXPANSION OF METHODISM, 49
hands, helped to whitewash its walls." ** There
were at first no stairs or breastwork to the
gallery; it was reached by a rude ladder. The
seats on the ground floor were plain benches
without backs. Embury constructed with his
own hands its pulpit ; and on the memorable
30th of October, 1768, mounted the desk he
had made, and dedicated the humble temple
to the worship of God. It received the name
of * Wesley Chapel,* and was the first in the
world to receive that honored name.''
Within two years we hear of at least a
thousand hearers crowding the chapel and the
space in front. It has been more than once
reconstructed since then, but a portion of the
first building is still visible. A wooden clock,
brought from Ireland by Philip Embury, still
marks the hours' of worship. Marble tablets
on the walls commemon^te the names and vir-
tues of Barbara Heck and Embury, and of As-
bury and Summerfield, faithful pastors, whose
memory is still fragrant throughout the conti-
nent. This mother-church of American Meth-
odism will long continue to attract the
footsteps of many a devout pilgrim to the
I
50
BARBARA HECK»
birthplace of the Church of his fathers and of
his own religious fellowship. He will discern
what potency God can give to even a feeble
instrumentality; that with him there is neither
great nor small ; that he can make one to
chase a thousand and two to put ten thousand
to flight*
Methodism having now been established by
lay agency in the largest city in the New
World) it was soon destined to be planted, by
the same means, in the waste places of the
country. John Wesley, at the solicitation of
Captain Webb and other Methodists in Amer-
ica, had sent from England as missionaries, to
carry on the good work begun in New York,
Richard Boardman and Joseph Pilmoor, the
pioneers of an army of thirty thousand Meth-
odist preachers on this continent. To these
*It ia a somewhat remarkable coincidence that shortly
after Embury had introduced Methodism into New York, an-
other Irish local preacher, Robert Strawbridge by name, was
the means rf its introduction into the Province of Maryland.
Like Embury, he preached first in his own house, and afterwards
in a humble " log meeting-house," the prototype of thousands
such, which were destined to rise as golden candlesticks amid
the moral darkness all over this vast continent. Captain
Webb had the distinguished honor of being the founder of
Methodism in Philadelphia, and its zealous propagandist in
many other places on the Atlantic seaboard.
\\
u
John Street Church,
New York.
(/•50.)
EXPANSION OF METHODISM,
51
\
Philip Embury readily gave up his pulpit.
His services had been entirely gratuitous, al-
though he had received from his grateful
hearers a few generous donations. He had
discharged the duties of his office under a
sense of grave responsibility, from which he
was glad to be relieved by the arrival of au-
thorized and ordained pastors.
" Sirs," he said, as he welcomed them to
the quaint " Wesley Church," " I have held
this place like the lone outpost of a great
army. I rejoice to see the watch-care of these
people and the duties of this office pass into
other and better hands. The Lord give you
favor and prosperity, and make this house the
birthplace of many souls."
But even his faith did not rise to the con-
ception of the mighty result whereto this
small beginning would grow, nor of the honor
he should wear throughout all time as the first
preacher and founder of American Methodism.
" He builded grander than he knew."
For some months he labored cordially with
the new missionary evangelists, frequently oc-
cupying the pulpit during their absence on
'*■*■' 'J??,
w*:,;
,'A>^ ,
52
BARBARA HECK,
preaching tours. Daring the following year,
1770, he removed with his family, together
with Paul and Barbara Heck and ^ther Pala<>
tine Methodists, to Salem, Washin'^to County,
New York. Previous to his leaving his recent
spiritual charge, the trustees of Wesley Chapel
presented him, in the name of the congrega-
tion, the sum of two pounds and five shillings,
** for the purchase of a Concordance, as a me-
mento of his pastoral connection with them."*
" Brethren," he said, with faltering voice,
as he thanked them for the kind donation, *'I
need no memento to keep your memory green.
Ye are in my heart to die and live with you ;
but the hand of Providence beckons me else-
where. No more welcome present could you
have given me. A Concordance I have long
desired to have, that I might the better study
the Word of God, and bring forth and com-
pare its hidden treasures. Now that your
love has placed it within my reach, I shall
prize it for a double reason, and when distant
from you I shall still feel united with you by
\\
* This Concordance is now in the library of the Wesleyan
Theological College, Montreal.
y
ELPANSION OF METHODISM,
53
a teuder tie, as I study by its help the sacred
volume that we so much love. The Lord
bless you and keep you. The J^ord make his
face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto
you. The Lord lift up the light of his con-
tenance upon you and give you peace. Amen!"
Embarking in a small river sloop on the
broad bosom of the Hudson, these pioneers of
Methodism made their way slowly up that
noble stream. Its stately banks, not then as
now adorned with elegant villas, were almost
in a state of nature. The towering Palisades
reared their wall of rock, and the lofty Crow-
nest, and Storm-king, and romantic Catskills
were clothed with foliage to the very top.
They sailed on past the quaint Dtitch town of
Albany, and the site of the present city of
Troy, then a wilderness. A couple of ox-
teams conveyed the settlers from tht; river to
their new homes on the fertile meadows of
the Pawlet River. This now flourishing and
populous part of the country was then a wil-
derness. But under these new conditions
these godly pioneers ceased not to prosecute
their providential mission — the founding of
1^
54
BARBARA HECK,
Ja* ':
Methodism in the New World. While they
sowed with seed-grain the virgin soil of their
new farms, they sought also to scatter the good
seed of the kingdom in the hearts of their
neighbors. Embury continued his labors as a
faithful local preacher, and soon among the
sparse and scattered population of settlers
was formed a " class " — ^tlie first within the
bounds of the Troy Conference-'-which has
since multiplied to two hundred and seventy-
seven preachers and forty-four diousand mem-
bers.
Embury seems to have won the confidence
and esteem of his rural neighbors, no less for
his practical business efficiency and sound
judgment than for his sterling piety, as we
find him officiatiiig as magistrate as well as
preacher.
He received, while mowing in his field in
the summer of 1775 — the year of the outbreak
of the Revolutionary War — so severe an injury
that he died suddenly, at the early age of
forty-five. His end was pre-eminently joy and
peace. Though suffering much physical pain,
his soul rejoiced in God. ^* Now, Lord, let-
EXPANSION OF METHODISM,
55
test thou thy servant depart in peace," were
his dying words, ** for mine eyes have seen
tby salvation. The mustard-seed of Meth-
odism which, through God's grace, has been
planted in this New World, shall yet grow to
be a mighty tree, whose branches shall fill the
whole land." He knew not, good man, that
seven years of tribulation were to scourge his
adopted country, and that he was but taken
away from the evil to come. He was buried,
after the manner of the primitive settlers, on
the farm on which he had lived and labored.
"After reposing," writes Dr. Stevens, " fifty-
seven years in his solitary grave without a
memorial, his remains were disinterred with
solemn ceremonies, and borne by a large pro-
cession to the Ashgrove burial-ground, where
their resting-place is marked by a monument
recording that he * was the first to set in mo-
tion a train of measures which resulted in the
founding of John Street Church, the cradle of
American Methodism, and the introduction of
a system which has beautified the earth with
salvation and increased the joys of heaven.* "
i
Chapter V.
WAR-CI,OUDS— EXILE.
FOR some time before tlie death of Em-
bury, the war-clouds had been gathering
which were to wrap the continent in a blaze.
The dissatisfaction of the majority of the
Colonists with their condition of political vas-
salage was growing stronger and stronger*
In order to meet the heavy military expen-
diture of the Colonies, the Home Government
imposed a stamp duty on all legal documents.
The Colonists denied the right of the Impe-
rial Parliament to impose taxes without their
consent. The Stamp Act was repealed in a
year, but the obnoxious principle of taxation
without representation was maintained by a
light duty on tea and some other articles. The
Colonists refused the taxed commodities, and a
party of men, disguised as Indians, threw into
Boston harbor (December i6, 1773), the tea
on board the East India vessels, amounting to
three hundred and forty chests. Parliament,
S6
m
■/!■■■
WAR-CLOUDS— EXILE.
57
\
1 1
incensed at this " flat rebellion," closed the
port of Boston, and, against the protest and
warning of some of England's greatest states-
men, sent troops to enforce submission.
A Continental Congress was convened at
Philadelphia (September, 1774), which peti-
tioned the king, but in vain, for the continu-
ance of the Colonial liberties. The creation,
by the Quebec Act (1774), of a great Northern
province, whose government was administered
by agents responsible only to the Crown, was
regarded as fraught with peril to the interests
of the older Colonies. It was thought that
the dissatisfaction among the British popula-
tion of Canada, and, perhaps, a desire on the
part of the French to avenge the wrongs of
the conquest, would induce not a few of the
people of Canada to join the revolt against
Great Britain. Circular letters were, there-
fore, sent to Canada and Nova Scotia, inviting
the inhabitants to send delegates to the Con-
tinental Congress at Philadelphia.
Meanwhile, at Concord and Lexington
(April 19, 1775), while Embury lay upon his
death-bed, occurred the collision between the
"^
58
BARBARA HECK.
armed Colonists and the soldiers of the king,
which precipitated the War of Independence,
and the loss to Great Britain of her American
Colonies. The bruit of war became louder
and louder, and filled the whole land.
**Nay, dear heart,'* Embury had said to his
faithful and loving wife, as she repeated the
rumors of the outbreak which had reached
the quiet valley in which they dwelt; "nay,
dear heart; this is only some temporary tu-
mult. The Colonists surely will not rebel
against His Majesty, when every Sunday in all
the churches they pray, * From all sedition,
privy conspiracy, and rebellion, good Lord de-
liver us I' "
But the loyal heart did not rightly inter-
pret the signs of the times. The country was
ripe for revolt. From the mountains of Ver-
mont to the everglades of Georgia, a patriotic
enthusiasm burst forth. A Continental army
was organized. General Gage was besieged
in Boston. A small force was collected in
Vermont for the capture of Fort Ticonderoga.
On the night of May 9th it crossed Lake
Champlain, and at dawn next morning eighty-
WAR-CLOUDS—EXILE,
59
', «
: /
three men surprised and captured, without a
blow, the fort which had cost Great Britain
eight millions sterling, two great campaigns,
and a multitude of precious lives to win.
Crown Point, with its slender garrison of
twelve men, surrendered at the first summons,
and thus the '* gateway of Canada" was in the
hands of the insurgent Colonists. At Bunker
HiU (June 17, 1775), the Colonial volunteers
proved their ability to cope with the veteran
troops of England.
By this time, however, Philip Embury had
passed away from the strifes and tumults of
earth to the everlating peace and beatitude of
heaven. Many of the loyal Palatines, whose
forefathers had enjoyed a refuge from perse-
cution under the British flag, would not share
the revolt against the mother country of the
American colonists. On the outbreak of the
Revolutionary War, therefore, they maintained
their allegiance to the old flag by removing to
Lower Canada. It was not without a wrench
of their heartstrings that they left the pleas-
ant homes they had made, and the grave of
their departed religious teacher and guide,
■•i
■■f\ -^
*\
'"-r
6o
BARBARA HECK,
and set their faces once more resolutely to-
ward the wilderness.
" Why not cast in your lot with us, and fight
for your rights and liberty?" asked one of
their neighbors who had caught the fever of
revolt.
** The service that we love is no bondage,"
spoke up brave-hearted Barbara Heck, **but
truest liberty; and we have, under the old
flag beneath which we were bom, all the rights
that we want — the right to worship God ac-
cording to the dictates of our conscience, none
daring to molest us or make us afraid."
" If fight we must," chimed in Paul Heck,
although he was a man of unwarlike dispo-
sition, " we will fight for the old flag under
which we have enjoyed peace and prosperity."
For conscience* sake, therefore, this little
band of loyal subjects left their fertile farms,
their pleasant homes, their flocks and herds.
They sold what they could, at great sacrifice,
to their revolutionary neighbors, who, while
they respected their character, were not averse
to making gain out of what they regarded as
their fanatical loyalty. When the wheat har-
WAR^CLOUDS^BXILE,
6l
vest had been reaped, the exiles, reserving
sufficient for their maintenance during their
journey, turned the rest into money for their
future necessities.
Two rude-looking and unwieldly bateaux
had been provided for the long journey over
unknown waters to the king's loyal Province
of Canada. In it were placed some simple
household gear — bedding and other necessities.
Among the most precious articles of freight
were Philip Bmbury^s much-prized Concord-
ance and Barbara Heck's old German Bible.
A nest was made in the bedding for the five
children of Paul and Barbara Heck — the old-
est and youngest, bright-eyed girls, aged ten
and two respectively, the others three sturdy
boys — and for the young children of Mary Em-
bury. The fair young widow sat in the stern to
steer the little bark which bore the germs of
Canadian Methodism, while the matronly Bar-
bara cared for the children. Paul Heck took
his place at the oar — aided by his friend, John
Lawrence, a grave. God-fearing Methodist,
who had been his companion in travel from
their dear old island home. In another boat
■■1 1
62
BARBARA HECK.
were their fellow-voyagers, Peter Switzer and
Joel Dulmage, with their wives and little ones.
Several of their Palatine neighbors, who in-
tended soon after to follow them, came down
to the river side to see them ofif and wish them
" God-speed."
"God will be our guide as he was the Guide
of our fathers," said Paul Heck, reverently, as
he knelt upon the thwarts and commended to
his care both those who journeyed, and those
who, for the present, should remain.
" My heart feels strangely glad," said Bar-
bara Heck, the light C)f faith burning in her
eyes ; " we are in the hollow of God's hand,
and shall be kept as the apple of his eye.
Naught can harm us while he is on our side."
The last farewells were spoken, the oars
struck the water, the bateaux glided down
the stream, the voices of the voyagers and of
those upon the shore blending sweetly in the
hymn:
" Our souls are in his mighty hand,
And he shall keep them still ;
And you and I shall surely stand
With him on Zion's hill.
, wit'iif^i«B|iipiippi^^
WAR-CLOUDS— EXILE,
63
O what a joyful meeting there !
In robes of white arrayed,
Palms in our hands we all shall bear,
And crowns upon our head.
Then let us lawfully contend,
And fight our passage througii ;
Bear in our faithful minds the end
And keep the prize in view."
■|n
-i
I* »
Chapter VI.
UNDER NORTHERN STARS.
ALL day tlie Methodist refugees glided down
the winding stream, through scenes of
sylvan loveliness. Towards sunset they caught
a glimpse of the golden sheen of the beautiful
South Bay, a narrow inlet of Lake Champlain,
glowing in the light of tb '; ;ding day like the
sea of glass mingled with fire. They landed
for the night on the site of the pleasant town
of Whitehall, then a dense forest. A rude tent
was erected among the trees for the women
and children, and a simple booth of branches
for the men. The camp-fire was built. The
bacon frying in the pan soon sent forth its
savory odor, and the wheaten cakes were baked
on the hot griddle. The children, with shouts
of merry glee, gathered wild raspberries in the
woods. A little carefully-hoarded tea — a great
luxury at the time — was steeped, and, that
nothing might be lost, the leaves were after-
wards eaten with bread. A hearty, happy
64
..JKk
li
"Passed the Fort of Ticonderoga." (^-65.)
UNDER NORTHERN STARS,
65
m
meal was made ; a hymn and prayer con-
cluded the evening; and the same simple serv-
ice began the mornitig, after a night of refresh-
ing sleep.
The second day the bateaux stretched out
irto the placid bay, and, wafted by the soft
south wind, skirted along the wooded shores.
Sailing up the narrow channel, between lofty
banks, the voyagers passed the still formidable
forts of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, mem-
orable for the bloody struggles of the war.
Those steep slopes, only sixteen years before,
had been gory with the best blood of England
and France. But the ravelins and demilunes,
the curtains and casemates, the ramparts and
fosse of these fortresses, under the kindly min-
istries of nature, were clothed with softest ver-
dure and sweetest wild-flowers ; and the ex-
iles recked not of the bloody fray which had
i icarnadined the spot. So may the bitter
memories of the unnatural strife between the
mother and the daughter land be buried for-
ever beneath the kindly growth of the gentle
charities and sweet amenities of friendly in-
tercourse I
66
BARBARA HECK,
if;?av
Day after day the rude bateaux, impelled
by oar and sail, glided up the broad and beau-
tiful Lake Champlain. Its gently sloping
shores were then almost a wilderness, with
only here and there the solitary clearing of an
adventurous pioneer. On the border-land be-
tween the pos,' :ssions of French and English,
it had been feu /er a hundred years the battle-
ground of • '"e Ts'arfare of the rival races for
the mastei) of the continent. In the back-
ground rose tiie forest-mantled Adirondacks,
"'vhich are, even to this day, the home of the
lynx and wolf, the bear and catamount. The
crystal tide over which they sailed was des-
tined in after years to be plowed by hostile
keels, and crimsoned by kindred bloodshed in
unhallowed strife.
All went well with the exiles till the after-
noon of the third day. While in the widest
part of the lake, wearily rowing in a leaf* calm,
a sudden thunderstorm arose that for a time
threatened them with no small peril. The
day had been very sultry, with not a breath of
air stirring. The burning sunlight was re-
flected from the steel-like surface of the water.
f
UNDER NORTHERN STARS.
67
^ ll
The children were fretful with the heat and
the oarsmen weary with their toil. Presently
a grateful coolness stole through the air, and
a gentle breeze refreshed their frames and filled
the swelling sails, and at the same time a cloud
veiled the fervid beams of the sun.
"Thank God,'» said Barbara Heck, "for
this change!'' and the children laughed with
glee.
Presently, Paul Heck, who had been lei-
surely scanning the horizon, sprang up with a
start.
"Down with your sail!" he shouted to his
fellow-voyagers, Switzer and Dulmage, whose
boat was not far ofif, pointing at the same time
toward the western horizon, and then eagerly
taking in and close-reefing his own sail.
To a careless eye there was no sign of dan-
ger; but a closer observation revealed a white
line of foam, advancing like a race-horse over
the waves.
* Lawrence, take the helm! Get her be-
fore the squall!" he continued; and scarcely
had ths movement been accomplished when
what seemed a hurricane smote their frail bark.
'Tvp
68
BARBARA HECK,
t4^
P li
p
The waters were lashed to foam. The
rising waves raced alongside as if eager to
overwhelm them. The air grew suddenly
dark; the lurid lightning flashed, followed in-
stantly by the loud roll of thunder, and by a
drenching torrent of rain.
"The I^ord preserve usl" exclaimed Law-
rence. "I can scarcely keep her head before
the wind, and if one of these waves strike us
abeam, it will shatter or overturn the bateau."
But Barbara Heck, unmoved by the rush
of the storm, sat serene and calm, holding the
youngest child in her arms, while the others
nestled in terror at her feet. In the words of
another storm-tossed voyager upon another
boisterous sea, seventeen hundred years be-
fore, she said, quietly:
"Fear not; be of good cheer; there shall
not a hair fall from the head of one of us."
Bnhearted by her faith and courage, her
husband toiled manfully to keep the frail ba-
teau from falling into the trough of the sea.
Lightly it rode the crested waves, and at last,
after a strenuous struggle, both boats got
under the lee of Isle-aux-Noix, and the voy-
I
The Grand Flume, near Lake Champlain. (p. 69.)
UNDER NORTHERN STARS,
69
p. 69.)
agers gladly disembarked in a sheltered cove,
their limbs cramped and stiffened by long
crouching, in their water-soaked clothing, in
the bottom of the boats. A bright fire was
soon blazing, the wet clothes dried as f^"' as
possible, and over a hearty meal of on,
bread, and coffee, they gave thanks wi ** li
hearts for their providential deliverance, and
the stormy lake sobbed itself to rest. Like
the fiery eye of a revengeful Cyclops, the sun
set lurid in the west, a dark cloud shutting
down upon it like a huge eyelid. But there in
the east gleamed a glorious rainbow, spanning
the heavens in a perfect arch, the seal of
God^s covenant with man, the presage of the
happiness and prosperity of our storm-tossed
voyagers.
At Isle-aux-Noix they found a British out-
post, in a log block-house, the sole defenders
of this gateway of Canada. They were
guided by a corporal to the entrance of the
Richelieu River, by which they sought the
St. Lawrence and Montreal, the desired haven
of their hopes. It was very pleasant gliding
down the ra^id river, between its forest-clad
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70
BAXBAXA HECK,
¥.
banks, now tinged with the glowing colors of
the early autumn foliage. Along that placid
stream, long known as the ** River of the Iro-
quois," the cruel raids and forays of the
French and English, and their Indian allies,
for a hundred years, were made. At the ham-
let of Sorel, at its mouth, the red-cross flag,
which the exiles loved so well, waved over a
stone fort, constructed by the French as a de-
fense against the dreaded incursions of the
Iroquois.
Here, although they received hospitable
entertainment from the commandant of the
little garrison, they made but slight delay.
Embarking once more, they urged their ba-
teaux up the stream of the majestic St. Law-
rence, hugging the shore in order to avoid the
strength of the current.
" I never thought there was so large a river
in the world," said Mary Embury, as she
scanned its broad expanse. **I believe it is
twice as wide as the Hudson at New York.*
" More like four times as wide," replied Paul
Heck. "If it were not for its rapid current,
one would hardly think it was a rii^er at all,"
:k
UNDER NORTHERN STARS.
71
The strength of this current made itself
so strongly felt at times that the men had to
walk along the shore, dragging the boats by
a rope, while the women assisted with the oar.
It was with glad hearts that the weary
voyagers beheld the forest-crowned height,
the grassy ramparts, and the long stone wall
along the river front of the mediseval-looking
town of Montreal. A red-coated sentry paced
up and down the rude landing-stage, and an-
other mounted guard at the ponderous iron-
studded wooden gate. Paul Heck and his
wife and John Lawrence set out to find tem-
porary lodgings, leaving the others to **keep
the gear," or, as Barbara Heck phrased it, **to
bide by the stuC*
The pioneer explorers, entering the "water-
gate," first turned towards the long, low line
of barracks; for their hearts warmed toward
the red-coats, the visible sign of the sover-
eignty of that power for which they had sac-
rificed so much. Their first reception, how-
ever, was rather disheartening to their loyal
enthusiasm. In reply to Paul Heck*s civil
inquiry of an idle soldier, who was lounging
72
BARBARA HBCK,
at the gate, if there were any Methodists in
the town, the low-bred fellow replied :
"Methodies? W'ot»s that, I »d like to
knaw?"
The explanation that they were the follow-
ers of John Wesley did not throw any light
on the subject.
"John Wesley? Who was he? Oi niver
heard of un. Zay, Ned, do *ee knaw any
Methodies hereabouts?"
"Methodies?" replied the man addressed,
pausing in his operation of pipe-claying his
belt and bayonet-pouch. "O, ay! 'e means
them rantin' Swaddlers, w^ot was in the King's
Own in Flanders, d* ye mind? The straight-
laced hypocrites ! An honest soldier could n't
drain a jack, or win a main at cards, or kiss a
lass, or curse a John Crapaud, but tJ v»d
drop down on 'im. Noa, ther' bean't uc .. on
'em 'ere, and w'ot 's more, us doan't want noan
on *em, nayther."
" Well, we 're Methodists," spoke up Bar-
bara Heck, never ashamed of her colors. "So^
take us to your captain, please."
"What d'ye say? You are?" exclaimed
ISI
UNDER NORTHERN STARS,
73
the fellow, dropping both pipe-clay and belt.
'^Well, you 're a plucky un, I must say; but
you 're just like all the rest on 'em. Here,
Geoffrey," he went on, calling to an orderly,
who was grooming an officer's horse, "take
the parson and 'is wife to the captain."
"Taake 'em yoursen. Oi bean't noan o'
your servant," replied that irate individual.
The altercation was speedily interrupted
by the presence of the officer himself, clatter-
ing down the stone steps, with his jangling
spurs and clanging sword.
" Hello I What 's the row with you fellows,
now? Beg pardon madam!" he continued,
taking off his gold-laced cocked-hat, with the
characteristic politeness of a British officer,
to Barbara Heck. "Can I be of any service
to you ?"
"We have just arrived from the province
of New York," replied Barbara, making an
old-fashioned courtesy, "and we're seeking
temporary lodgings in the town."
- "From New York, eh? Come to the
council-room, please, and see the governor."
And he led the way along the narrow Rue
m
74
BAXBAXA HBCK,
Notre Dame to a long low building, with
quaint dormer windows, in front of which the
red-cross flag of St. George floated from a
lofty flagstaff, and a couple of sentries paced
to and fro in heavy marching order. This
venerable building, almost unchanged in as-
pect, is now occupied as the Jacques Cartier
Normal School. It had been erected as the
residence of the French governor; but at the
time of our story it was the quarters of Col-
onel Burton, the military governor of the
District of Montreal, and commandant of His
Majesty's forces therein. It was subsequently
occupied, during the American invasion, by
Brigadier-General Wooster, and by his suc-
cessor, the traitor, Benedict Arnold. It was
here, also, that the first printing-press ever
used in Montreal was erected by Benjamin
Franklin, in order to print the Proclamation
and Address to Canada.
After a moment^s delay m a small ante-
room, the officer conducted our travelers,
somewhat bewildered by the contrast betwee^
his respectful treatment and that of his rude
underlings, into a long low apartment, with
UNDER NORTHERN STARS.
75
flat timbered ceiling. In this room the present
writer, on a recent visit, found a number of old
historic portraits, probably of the period to
which we now refer.
Seated at a large, green-covered table, on
which lay his sword and a number of charts
and papers, pay-rolls, and the like, was an
alert, grizzled-looking officer of high rank.
Near him sat his secretary, busily writing.
"Ahl be seated, pray. Pierre, chairs for
the lady and gentlemen," said the governor,
nodding to a French valet, and adding, "You
may wait in the 'anteroom. I hear," he went
on, turning to Paul Heck, *Hhat you have come
from the disloyal province of New York?"
" Yes, your worship," said Paul Heck, rather
nervously fumbling his hat.
**Say *his excellency,*" put in the secre-
tary, to the further discomfiture of poor Paul,
who had never before been in the presence of
such an exalted personage.
"Never mind, Saunders," said the gov-
ernor, good-naturedly; and then, to his rustic
audience: "Peel quite at home, good people.
I wish to learn the state of feeling in New
■3 ;;
^ fl
"' I
76
BARBARA HECK,
York, and whether there is any loyalty to the
old flag left."
"O yes, your worship — your excellence, I
mean," said Paul; ** there are yet seven thou- '
sand who have not bowed the knee to Baal."
"* Seven thousand,* *Baal' — ^what does the
man mean, Featherstone?"
"Blest if I know, your excellency," said
Colonel Featherstone, who, like the governor,
was more faimiliar with the Letters of Lord
Chesterfield than with the Hebrew Scriptures.
"He means," said Barbara Heck, "that
there is yet a remnant who are faithful to
their king, and pray daily for the success of
the old flag."
"Ah! that's more to the purpose. But
how many did you say, my good man, and
how do you know the number? Have they
any organization or enrollment?"
"I said seven thousand, sir — your excel-;
lence, I mean — ^because that 's the number
Elijah said were faithful to the God of Israel;
a perfect number, you know. But just ho^
many there are, I can not say. The Lord
knoweth them that are his."
UNDER NORTHERN STARS*
77
** A pragmatical fellow, this," said the gov-
ernor to Colonel Peatherstone; and again ad-
dreibing Heck, he asked : " Well, what are they
going to do about it? Will they fight?"
**Many of them eschew carnal weapons,
your excellence. I 'm not a man of war my-
self. I have come here, with my wife and
little ones, to try to serve God and to honor
the king in peace and quietness; and there 's
a-many more, your excellence, who will follow
as soon as they can get away."
** Good! that has the right ring. We want
a lot of true-hearted, loyal subjects to colonize
this new province, and you are welcome, and
as many more like you as may come," said
the governor, rubbing his hands, and taking
a snuff with Colonel Featherstone. He then
conversed kindly and at some length about
their plans and prospects. "I doubt if you
can find lodging with any English family," he
said. *< There are not many English here yet,
you see; but I will give you a note to a re-
spectable Canadian, who keeps a quiet inn ;"
and he rang his table-bell, and wrote a hasty
note. "Here, Pierre, take these good people
1 r|
"•5
< I
■ 1
78
BARBARA HECK.
to the Blanche Croix [the White Cross Inn],
and give this note to Jean Baptiste La Parge.
I will send for you again," he added, as he
bowed his guests politely out of the room,
kindly repressing their exclamations:
**A thousand thanks, your worship — ^your
excellence, I mean," said Paul Heck; and,
added Barbara, **The Lord reward you for
your kindness to strangers in a strange land 1"
I
(^
m
Chapter VII.
WAR SCENES.
THE '* Blanche Croix" was a small inn in
a narrow street running back to the wall
at the rear of the town. A reminiscence of
this wall is still maintained in the name For-
tification Lane. The inn was of one story,
with thick stone walls, which rose in immense
gables, with huge chimneys. The steep roof,
in which were two rows of small dormer win-
dows, was almost twice as high as the walls,
which gave the quaint old house the appear-
ance of a very small man with a very large
hat Mine host, Jean Baptiste La Farge, a
rubicund old fellow, who wore, as the badge
of his calling as town baker, a white cap and
apron, was at first indisposed to entertain the
wayfarers. "Dis is one auberge Canadienne.
Me no like de Englees. Dey take my con-
tree."
The pert Pierre called attention to the
6 79
*«1
V
8o
BARBARA HECK,
^k
governor's note^ which La Farge held in his
hand without looking at it
"Well, what is dis? You know I not
read."
Pierre glibly rattled off the contents of
the note, commending the tr<ivelers to his
good offices, which produced a remarkable
change in the manner of Jean Baptiste.
"O, if it will oblige Monsieur le Gover-
neur, I will have de grand plaiser to enter-
tain messieurs and des madames. Marie 1
Marie!" he called to his wife — a black-eyed
dame in bright-red kirtle and snowy Norman
cap— and asked her to conduct the women to
the guest chambers. With a bright smile and
polite courtesy, a universal language under-
stood by all — she knew no English — she led
them up the narrow stair to the attic chamber,
while the men went to bring their little effects
from the boat.
"This is more like the little cabin on ship-
board than like a house," said Barbara Heck.
" But see what a pretty view," she continued^
as she looked out of the little window that
overlooked the town wall. Just without a
WAR SCENES,
8l
P-
k.
lat
a
\
bright streamlet rippled through a green
meadow — it now flows darkling underground,
beneath the pavement of Craig Street — and
beyond rose the green forest-covered slope of
Mount Royal.
"What's this?" asked Mary Embury, who
had been exploring the little room, pointing
to a small china-ware image of the Madonna.
"La Sainte Vierge, la M^re de Dieu," re-
plied Marie, at the same time crossing herself
and courtesying to the image.
"Why, Barbara,'' exclaimed the young
widow, "she must be a heathen to worship
that idol."
"They must be Catholics," replied Barbara.
"Many's the one I've known in dear old Ire-
land; but there they had pictures in their
houses — not images."
"Won't they murder us some night?"
asked the timid widow, in a low whisper.
"No fear," answered Barbara, endowed
both with more courage and more charity.
"I doubt not they are honest people; and as
we have clearer light, we must try to teach
them better."
8a
SAHBAXA HECK,
%,
The loyalist immigrants were anxious to
take up land, and to earn their living by till-
ing the soil. But in the disturbed state of
the country and threatened American inva-«
sion, the governor dissuaded them from it,
and offered them employment in strengthen-
ing the defensive works of the town. Cap-
tain Peatherstone had an empty storehouse
at the barracks fitted up for their reception,
and they were soon comfortably settled in a
home of their own.
" Sure this is better," said Mary Embury,
looking from the upper windows over the
wall, upon the broad and shining reaches of
the river, "than being cooped up in that
small attic; and to see that heathen creature
bowing and praying to them idols fairly made
my flesh creep."
"Poor thing!" replied Barbara; "she knows
no better. I wish I could speak her lan->
guage. I long to tell her to go to the Savior at
once, without praying to either saint or angel."
We turn now to notice briefly the con-
current public events of the province. Sir
Ouy Carleton, the governor-general of Can-
'* *ti^
WAR SCENES,
83
ada, resolved to recover, if possible, Crown
Point and Ticonderoga, which, as we have
seen, had been seized by the insurgent Ameri-
can Colonists. He called upon the seigneurs
to enroll their tenants or censitaires^ in accord-
ance with the terms of the feudal tenure by
which they held their lands. Many of the
seigneurs responded promptly to this appeal,
but the tenantry, who had not forgotten the
hardships of the late war, denied their lia-
bility to military service. The governor, who
had scarcely eight hundred regular soldiers at
his command for the protection of the prov-
ince, declared martial law to be in force, and
endeavored to call out the militia by procla-
mation. But even this appeal, backed up as
it was by the mandate of Bishop De Briand,
exhorting the people to take up arms, was in-
effectual.
The American Congress now resolved on
the invasion of Canada, believing that the re-
volted Colonists had many sympathizers in
the country, who were only waiting for the
presence of an armed force to declare in favor
of the Revolution.
84
BARBARA HECK,
' -
¥ ;
■ ■■ ! :
i\:
In tlie month of September an American
force of a thousand men, under General Schuy-
ler, advanced by way of I^ake Champlain against
Montreal ; and another, under Colonel Arnold, ^
by way of the Kennebec and Chaudi^re,
against Quebec. General Carleton still en-
deavored, but at first with only very partial
success, to enlist the co-operation of the
French for the defense of the country. They
were not, indeed, seduced from their alle-
giance by the blandishments of the revolted
Colonies, but, for the most part, they contin-
ued apathetic, till their homes were in danger.
Some of the French Canadians, however, as
well as English, sympathized with the in-
vaders, and gave them both passive and
active assistance.
While Schuyler was held in check at Fort
St. John, on the Richelieu, Colonel Ethan
Allen, with some three hundred men, ad-
vanced to Montreal. Crossing the river by
night, he attempted to surprise the town ; but
the vigilance of the little garrison frustrated
his design.
In the dim dawn of a September morning —
'■*'• :'(
'-'H*'-"'
U^AH SCENES.
85
it was the 25th of the month — Barbara Heck
was aroused by an unusual commotion in
the barrack-square. It was before the hour
of the rdveillC) and yet the shrill blare of the
bugle rent the air, and the rapid roll and
throb of drums beat to arms. The soldiers
rushed from their quarters to take their places
in their companies, buckling on their belts
and adjusting their accouterments as they ran.
The sharp, quick words of command of the
officers were heard, and the clatter of the
muskets as the men grounded their arms on
the stone pavement. Ball cartridge was
served out, and the little company filed
through the narrow streets and out of the
western gate of the town, where Notre
Dame now intersects McGill Street.
Four of the English force were slain, but
one of these was Major Carsden, the officer
in command, who had recklessly exposed
his life. Several, however, were severely
wounded, and in nursing these Barbara Heck
and Mary Embury found opportunity for the
exercise of their woman's tenderness and
sympathy.
■'■>■ ■
1 H
86
BAXBAHA HECK,
"Sure we left our comfortable homes,"
said Mary Embury, "to escape these rude
alarms of war, and here they are brought to
our very door. But the will of God be done."
"I doubt if it be his will," replied Barbara.
"I fear it is more the work of the devil.
'Whence come wars and fighting among
you?* says St. James. *Ye lust and have
not, ye kill and desire to have.' How long,
Lord, how long will men thus seek to de-
stroy each other? Surely the wrath of man
worketh not the righteousness of God. But
God permits this evil, I fear, for the hardness
of men's hearts."
Scarcely had the wailing music of the
Dead March, which had followed the slain
major to the grave, ceased, when the shrill
scream of the pipe and rapid throb of the
drum invited the townsmen to enroll for an
attack on the enemy, who were besieging
Forts St. John and Chambly.
"Now, my fine fellow," said Major Feath-
erstone, who had succeeded to the rank and
title of his slain superior officer, to Paul Heck,
*why don't you take service for the king?
^
irAX SCENES,
87
With your education and steady habits you 're
sure to be corporal before the campaign is
)»
over.
"I have taken service under the best of
kings,'* said Paul, devoutly, **and I desire no
better. And as for King George, God bless
him, I am willing to suffer in body and estate
for his cause; but fight I can not. I would
ever hear the voice of the Master whom I
serve, saying : * Put up thy sword in its sheath.' "
"You're an impracticable fellow. Heck.
How ever would the world wag if everybody
was of your way of thinking?"
"I doubt not the widows and orphans of
His Majesty's slain soldiers think it would
wag on better than it does without so much
fighting. And if we believe the Bible, we
must believe the day is coming when the
nations shall beat their swords into plow-
shares and their spears into pruning-hooks,
and learn war no more."
"Yes, I suppose so," said the major; and
tapping his sword by his side, he added: "But
not in my time will this good blade's occupa-
tion be gone."
.-S,-.'
88
BARBARA HECK.
"I fear not, more*s the pity," said Paul
with a sigh.
** But the Methodists are not all like you,"
the major continued. **When I was an en-
sign in the * King's Own,' in Flanders, there
were a lot of Methodists in the army. In my
own company there was a fellow named
Haime, a tremendous fellow to preach and
pray. In barracks he was as meek as a lamb,
let the fellows shy their belts and boots at
him, and persecute him to no end. But when
he was before the enemy he was the bravest
man in the army. Another fellow named
Clements, in the Heavy Dragoons, had his left
arm shattered at Fontenoy. But he would n't
go to the rear. *No,* he said, *I've got my
sword-arm yet,' and he rode with his troop
like a hero, against the French cuirassiers."
Paul's eyes had kindled while listening to
the tale, but he merely said: "I judge them
not. A man must follow his own lights. To
his own master he standeth or falleth. But
they died well, as well as lived well, the
Methodists in the army, I'm sure."
" That they did. I never saw the like," con*
U
r^je sc£Nss.
B9
tinned the major, with genuine admiration.
** There was a Welshman named Evans —
John Evans — an artilleryman, a great hand to
preach too, had both his legs taken ofif by a
chain-shot at Maestricht. They laid him on
a gun-caisson, and he did nothing but praise
God and exhort the men around him as long
as he could speak. V\l never forget his last
words. His captain asked him if he suffered
much. * Bless you, captain,* he gasped, 'I'm
as happy as I can be out of heaven,** and fell
back dead. I never jeered at the Methodists
since, as, I *m sorry to say, I used to do before.
I felt, and I*m not ashamed to own it, that
there was something in religion that they un-
derstood, and that I did n*t.'*
''Dear major, you may understand it and
know all about it. The dear Lord will teach
you, if you only will ask him."
" Thank you, my good fellow. But I see
I can't make a recruit of you for active serv-
ice. I '11 have to make you hospital sergeant."
"I would fain make a recruit of you, sir.
* For these incidents, and many others like them, see
Stevens's History of Methodism.
\T' ^.!
M-
90
BARBARA HECK.
for the best of masters, in the best of service.
As for the hospital, fain and glad I '11 be to do
all that I can for both the bodies and the
souls of my fellow-men, especially for them
that need it most But I '11 do it for love, not
for money. I can't take the king's shilling."
John Lawrence, however, did not share the
scruples of his friend, Paul Heck, and eagerly
volunteered for the relief of Fort St. John,
on the Richelieu, Colonel Richard Mont-
gomery, a brave and generous Irish gentle-
man, whose tragic fate has cast a halo around
his memory, had succeeded Schuyler in the
command of the American invading expedition.
On the 31st of October, General Carleton
attempted, in thirty-four boats, to cross the
St. Lawrence from Montreal, in order to re-
lieve Fort St. John. A great crowd of the
townspeople — the mothers, wives, and chil-
dren of the volunteers, and other non-com-
batants — gathered on the shore, or watched
from the walls the departure of the little
flotilla. From the windows of their own
dwelling, Paul and Barbara Heck and Mary
Embury followed with their prayers the ex-
WAX SCENES.
9«
pedition, in which they were the more inter-
ested that it bore their friend and companion
in exile, John I^awrence. Gallantly the ba-
teauii rode the waves, and under the impulse
of strong arms resisted the downward sweep
of the current. The red coats gleamed and
the bayonets flashed in the morning sun, as,
with ringing cheer on cheer, boat after boat
pushed off, and the music of fife and drum
grew fainter and fainter as they receded from
tlie shore. They had almost reached the op-
pc site bank, when, from out the bushes that
lined the shore, where lay an ambush of three
hundred men, there flashed a deadly volley of
musketry, and the deep roar of two pieces of
artillery boomed through the air. Instantly
everything was in the direst confusion. Many
men were wounded. Some of the boats were
shattered and began to sink. After a brief
resistance, General Carleton gave the word to
retreat, and the discomfited expedition slowly
made its way back to Montreal.
"The Lord have mercy upon them I" ex-
claimed Barbara Heck, as from her window
she saw the flash and heard th^ sound of the
■A ,i
93
BAXBAXA HBCtr,
first fire. But she was even more startled by
the sudden gasp of Mary Embury, beside her,
and, looking round, she beheld her turn ashen
pale and fall fainting to the floor. The usual
restoratives of the period — cold water and
burnt feathers — ^were speedily applied, and
the swoon passed gradually away.
*'Dear heart,*' said Barbara gently caress-
ing her pale cheek, " they are in the Lord's
hands. Shall not the Judge of all the earth
do right?"
"What has happened?" asked Mary Em-
bury, in a weak, bewildered voice; and then,
"O, I remember. It is not the Lord's doings.
It is those wicked men. Can they not let us
bide in peace? Why do they follow us even
here? Is — ^is John hurt?" she asked, blush-
ing with eagerness.
"No, Molly dear, thank God!" exclaimed
Lawrence, bursting into the room. " Though
we had a desperate time of it, and many a
gallant fellow has got his death-blow, I fear.
They want you, Barbara, in the hospital.
Paul is there already. They are bringing in
the wounded."
WAR SCENES.
93
"I can*t leave Mary, you see," said Bar-
bara, administering a cordial.
**0 yes, you can," exclaimed the fair young
matron, becoming rapidly convalescent. The
safe return of John Lawrence seemed to have
a more restorative effect than even the burnt
feathers. There was a rather awkward self-
consciousness on the part of each, of having
betrayed feelings of which they had hardly,
till that moment, been fully aware. It some-
times happens that chemical solutions may
become super-saturated with some salt,
which, upon a sudden jar of the vessel, will
shoot instantly into solid crystals. So also it
may happen that certain feelings may be in
unconscious solution, as it were, in our souls,
which suddenly, under the agitating impulse
of some great crisis, may crystallize into con-
scious reality. So was it with these two hon-
est and loving hearts. For years they had
known each other well, and with growing es-
teem. But since their common exile they
had been drawn more together. The be-
reaved young widow had leaned for sympathy
upon the warm heart of Barbara Heck; but
'^miT
94
BARBARA HECK,
she had unconsciously come to lean also for
protection on the strong arm of John Law-
rence. The peril through which he had just
passed was the shock that revealed her feel-
ings to herself. But the present, with its
awful shadow of disaster and death, was no
time for the indulgence of tender emotions.
So Mary Embury busied herself, with Law-
rence's help, in tearing up sheets for bandages,
and scraping lint for the wounded, who were
being borne beneath the window on bloody
litters to the barrack hospital.
Chapter VIII.
O, THE LONG AND CRUEL WINTER!
AS a consequence of the disaster recorded
in our last chapter, the American gen-
eral, Robert Montgomery, advanced unopposed
to Montreal. Dire was the commotion in the
little town as the overwhelming force of the
enemy approached. Orderlies galloped wildly
through the streets, and the loud roll of the
drum and sharp blare of the bugle pierced the
ear of night. The little handful of troops
were marshaled by the torchlight in the Place
d'Armes, in front of the old parish church,
which stood in the middle of what is now
Notre Dame Street. It was a low- walled, high-
roofed building, with dormer windows in the
roof. In an open belfry hung the small bells,
which, at the canonical hours, rang out their
sweet chorus over the little town. Around
the square, now lined with stately stone banks
and public offices, was a row of quaint, high-
roofed, many-dormered buildings.
7 95
96
BARBARA HECK.
It was a wild night in early November, the
nth of the month, with high wind, but with*
out rain. The clouds scudded swiftly across
the sky, and the moonlight, from time to
time, burst fitfully through their rifts, bring-
ing into sharp contrast the illumined fronts of
the houses and the deep shadow of the parish
church. A bonfire was burning in the square,
its ruddy gleam blending strangely with the
wan light of the moon, and flashing back —
now from the burnished bayonets, now from
the polished accouterments of the troops.
These — only a hundred and twenty in all —
were drawn up in heavy marching order, to
advance against the invaders.
An earnest colloquy was proceeding be-
tween General Carleton and a number of the
leading merchants of the town. It was argued
that the handful of troops was quite inade-
quate to cope with the large invading force.
General Carleton therefore harangued his lit-
tle company of soldiers, and informed them
that the best interests of the king and country
would be promoted by a retreat upon Quebec,
which was really the key of the possession of
O, THE LONG AND CRUEL WINTER! 97
the Colony. They were therefore marched
back to the barracks, and during the night
employed in destroying such army stores as
they could not carry ofif, to prevent their fall-
ing into the hands of the Americans. Early
next morning the little band, under command
of Brigadier-General Prescott, with deep cha-
grin written on their faces, marched out of
the eastern gate of the town just as the strong
force of Montgomery blew open with a grenade
the western gate.
Governor Carleton escaped only by being
rowed, with muffled oars, by night, past the
American guards, and so reached Quebec,
which was now menaced by Benedict Arnold.
The American general, Montgomery, promptly
occupied the town, but treated the people
with much consideration, and won their good-
will by his generous disposition and affable
manners. He made provision for the main-
tenance of public order and administration of
justice, and for nearly eight months the town
remained in the hands of its captors.
The chief struggle for the possession of
Canada, however, took place around the walls
98
BARBARA HECK.
of Quebec. The stirring events of that winter
campaign we shall briefly trace before pro-
ceeding with the narrative of the private for-
tunes of the actors in our little story.
General Benedict Arnold — who subse-
quently gained eternal infamy by the base
attempt to betray the fortress of West Point,
committed to his keeping — had the previous
summer visited Quebec, and had secret corre-
spondents among its inhabitants. In the
month of September, with a force of nearly a
thousand men — among whom was Aaron Burr,
a future Vice-President of the United States —
he had toiled up the swift current of the Ken-
nebec and Dead River to the head-waters of
those streams. With incredible labor they
conveyed their boats and stores through the
tangled wilderness to the Chaudi^re, and sailed
down its tumultuous current to the St. Law-
rence. Their sufferings, through hunger, cold,
fatigue, and exposure, were excessive. They
were reduced to eat the flesh of dogs, and
even to gnaw the leather of their cartridge-
boxes and shoes. Their barges had to be
dragged against the rapid stream one hundred
0, THE LONG AND CRUEL WINTER! 99
and eighty miles, and carried forty miles over
rugged portages on men's shoulders. The
number of the invading force was reduced, by
sickness, exhaustion, and desertion, to seven
hundred men before they reached the St. Law-
rence. Without artillery, with damaged guns
and scanty ammunition, with wretched clothing
and imperfect commissariat, they were to at-
tempt the capture of the strongest fortress in
America.
The governor of Quebec had strengthened
the defenses of the fortress-capital, and learn-
ing the approach of Arnold, had carefully re-
moved all the boats from the south side of
the river. On the night of November the
13th, Arnold, having constructed a number of
canoes, conveyed the bulk of his meager army
across the river, and, without opposition,
climbed the cliff by Wolfe's path, and ap-
peared before the walls of the Upper Town.
Having failed to surprise the town, and de-
spairing, with his footsore and tagged regi-
ments, with no artillery and with only five
rounds of ammunition, of taking it by assault,
he retired to Point-aux-Trembles, some twenty
100
BARBARA HECK.
miles up tHe rivers to wait a junction with
Montgomery.
Governor Carleton reached Quebec, and be-
gan preparations for a vigorous resistance.
Disaffected persons, and those unwilling to
join in the defense of the town, were ordered
to leave within four days. The entire popu-
lation was about five thousand, and the garri-
son numbered eighteen hundred in all, con-
sisting of about a thousand British and Can-
adian militia, three hundred regulars, and a
body of seamen from the ships in the harbor.
The place was provisioned for eight months.
On the 4th of December, the united forces
of Arnold and Montgomery, amounting to
about twelve hundred in all, advanced against
Quebec, and the besieging army encamped in
the snow before the walls. Its scanty artil-
lery produced no effect upon the impregnable
ramparts. Biting frost, the fire of the garri-
son, pleurisy, and the small-pox did their fatal
work. The only hope of success was by as-
sault, which must be made before the close of
the year, when the period of service of many
of the men expired.
0, THE LONG AND CRUEL WINTER! lOI
On the last day of the year 1776, therefore,
a double attack was made on the Lower Town,
the object of which was to effect a junction of
forces, and then to storm the Upper Town.
At four o'clock in the morning, in a blinding
snowstorm, Montgomery, with five hundred
men, crept along the narrow pass between
Cape Diamond and the river. The western
approach to the town was defended by a block-
house and a battery. As the forlorn hope
made a dash for the barrier, a volley of grape
swept through their ranks. Montgomery,
with two of his officers and ten men, were
slain. The deepening snow wrapped them in
its icy shroud, while their comrades retreated
in utter discomfiture. The spot where Mont-
gomery fell was just opposite the landing-
place of the Allan Steamship Line. It is
marked by an inscription attached to the face
of the cliff.
On the other side of the town, Arnold, with
six hundred men, attacked and carried the
first barriers. The alarum-bells rang, the
drums beat to arms, the garrison rallied to
the defense. The assaulting party pressed on,
W^rP^ '■■■ ■ —■ ' ■ -'\,
X02
BARBAXA HECK,
and many entered the town through the em-
brasures of a battery, and waged a stubborn
fight in the narrow streets, amid the storm
and datkness. With the dawn of morning
they found themselves surrounded by an over-
whelming force, and exposed to a withering
fire from the houses. They therefore sur-
rendered at discretion, to the number of four
hundred men. Arnold continued during the
winter to maintain an ineffective siege, his
command daily wasting away with small-pox,
cold, and hunger. Scanty re-enforcements of
the besieging army continued to arrive, till it
numbered ^bout two thousand men.
In April the American Congress ordered
that a strong force, with an ample supply of
matkriel of war, should be raised for the con-
quest of Canada, and Major-General Thomas,
of Massachusetts, was dispatched to take com-
mand of the army before Quebec. Thomas
arrived on the ist of May, and found nearly
half of the American force sick with small-
pox, the magazines almost empty, and only six
days* provisions in camp. The French sym-
pathizers with the Americans, moreover, had
t'-- .*.
\
0, THE LONG AND CRUEL WINTER! I03
become disaffected, and supplies were obtain-
able only with great difficulty. General
Thomas decided on an immediate retreat to
Three Rivers. The next day British ships
arrived in the harbor, and before he could
move his invalid army, the garrison of Quebec
issued from the gates, a thousand strong, and
fell upon his camp. General Thomas, with
his command, retreated, amid great hardships,
to Sorel, where he soon died of small-pox,
and was succeeded by General Sullivan. So
ended the fifth and last siege of the rock-built
fortress of Quebec.
Chapter IX.
"AS MEN THAT DREAMED."
JOHN I^AWRENCB had taken an early
opportunity to join General Carleton, at
Quebec, as a volunteer for the defense of that
last stronghold of British authority in Canada.
During the long months of the winter and
spring, his friends at Montreal had heard
nothing of him, so great were the difficulties
of communication. The Americans carefully
intercepted every letter or message from the
besieged garrison at Quebec. It was only with
the greatest difficulty that the British general
was able, by means of daring scouts, skillful
in the adoption of every sort of disguise, to
keep up any communication with Montreal.
His most trusty messenger was a loyal French-
Canadian, who more than once that dreary
winter, in the disguise of a peddler, with im-
portant dispatches sewed inside of his fur-cap,
found his way through the beleaguering army
ZQ4
6
»
H
at
II
AS MEN THAT DREAMED,
M
105
around Quebec, and through the snow-laden
forests, to Montreal.
Great was the joy of the English popula-
tion of Montreal when they saw the last of
the American troops cross the river. The old
Red Cross flag was run up again on the flag-
sta£f at the Government House with loyal
cheers, and bonfires in the streets and an il-
lumination of the houses at night testified
the popular delight. A few days after, a de-
tachment of British red-coats and militia
marched into the town, with colors flying and
drums beating a joyous roulade. Among the
weather-beaten, travel-stained militiamen was
our friend John Lawrence. As the little troop
marched into the barrack-yard, hearty were
the cheers and warm the greetings they re-
ceived from their townsmen and kinsfolk.
Paul Heck wrung his friend Lawrence's hand,
and the latter gayly raised his Glengarry bon-
net toward the window where, waving their
kerchiefs, stood Barbara Heck and Mary Em-
bury. Handing his musket to Heck, he rushed
eagerly up-stairs, unbuckling his knapsack as
he went. Throwing the latter into a corner,
xo6
BARBARA HECK.
he warmly shook hands with Barbara, who
opened the door, and then tenderly embraced
her blushing companion, exclaiming:
" Thank God, Molly dear, I see you safe
once morel"
"Thank God," she devoutly answered, " that
you are spared to come back alive! Every
day, and almost every hour, I 've prayed for
you. We heard of the terrible sickness, and
I feared you would never return."
** I felt sure in my heart that you would,"
said brave-souled Barbara; "but it took all my
faith to keep up Molly's courage."
"A sore winter we had of it," said John,
"and the enemy worse than we. From my
heart I pitied them, even though they were
doing their worst against us."
"We never heard word or token how it
fared with ye. Sore and sad was my heart
many*s the day for fear the fever, or the
famine, or the fire of the enemy might de-
stroy ye."
"How could man die better, Molly dear,
than fighting for his king and country? The
service was hard, and the fare was poor; the
"yl5 MEN THAT DREAMED,**
107
besiegers were more than the defenders, and
we were put on short allowance of food; but
we were holding the key of the continent for
good King VreorgC) and every man of us would
have died rather than give it up. A queer
old town it is, with walls all around just as if
it was one big castle. And the grand sunrise
and sunset views from the Citadel Hill — I
never saw the like. But I found in the old
town what we could n't find here — that is, a
Methodist preacher.'*
"Did ye, now?" ejaculated Paul Heck.
"And who was he, and where did he come
from? And tell us all about the siege."
" His name ^ as James Tuffy, a commis-
sary in the 44th Regiment, and a right good
man he was. He was one of Mr. Wesley's
helpers in England ; and he did n't leave his
religion behind, as so many do who cross the
sea. He had preaching in his own quarters
in the barracks. It was a strange sight. The
garrison was so crowded that we had to have
hammocks swung in the casemates, which
were looped up by day to give room to work
the big guns. And he would sit on a gun-
:
io8
BARBARA HECK,
carriage, with his Bible on a gun-breach, and
preach and pray; and more than once the
drums beat to quarters while he was preach-
ing, and we had to seize our arms and rush to
the walls, while the gunners blazed away with
the big guns.
" I *11 never forget the last day of the year,
when we repulsed a double attack. It was a
cold and stormy night. The snow fell fast,
and the wind howled about the bastions, O so
drearily! In the night, the sentries on the
wall by St. John's Gate saw some signaling
by lanterns in the enemy's trenches, and gave
the alarm. The guard turned out, and a sharp
fire was opened by a body of men concealed
behind a snow-drift. A deserter had warned
the general that an attack was to be made,
and we were kept under arms all night. I
was posted, along with a battery of small
guns, at a block-house, at a place called the
Pres-de-ville, just below the cliflf; and cold
work it was, pacing up and down in the storm,
and blowing our fingers to keep them from
freezing. At last, amid the darkness, I thought
I saw something moving on the road. I
it
AS MEN THAT DREAMED,
it
109
watched closely, and felt sure I was not mis-
taken. I told Sergeant McQuarterSi who had
command of the battery, and we were all on
the alert.
"The enemy came nearer, halted, and one
of them advanced to reconnoiter, and then
went back. The snow muffled every sound,
except our steady breathing, or the click of a
flint-lock, and the howling of the wind. Pres-
ently they dashed forward at the double-quick.
The gunners stood with their lighted matches
in their hands, and when the head of the col-
umn came within range, they blazed away
with grape and shrapnel. The column was
crushed back and shattered like an egg-shell,
and we could hear the cries and groans of the
wounded amid the dark.
"Just then we heard firing in the rear, and
were called back to repulse an attack from
the other side of the town. The enemy
swarmed over the walls and through the em-
brasures, and fought their way from house to
house in the narrow street, amid a blinding
snowstorm. They were taken in front and
rear by the garrison, and penned in between
. w aij»imA^teitM«f<"i,.-
^ f^^i ft'.-* ,'lViV,''
;■. *^'^^
no
£AXBARA HECIt,
the high cliff and the river, and were caught
as in a trap. When day dawned we found
Montgomery and his slain companions half-
buried in the drifts. The general lay on his
back, far in advance, wrapped in his icy wind-
ing-sheet. His sword-arm, frozen stiff, thrust
through the snow, still grasped his naked
sword.*
*' After this dreadful fight in storm and
darkness, we suffered no more assaults all
winter long ; but both sides endured great hard-
ships. The enemy, in their snowy trenches
and canvas tents, smitten with pleurisy and
small-pox, died like sheep. It was dreadful.
But they hung on like bulldogs, and never for
an hour relaxed the strictness of the siege.
We could n*t go outside of the gates for fuel,
* Forty-two ^^ears later, the body of Montgomery waB
given up by the British to a kinsman, who had it re-
moved to New York. From the windows of her cottage
on the Hudson, his widow, then in extreme old age, be-
held the vessel that bore his remains glide down the
river past lier doors. In the porch of the Church of St.
Paul, in Broadway, amid the rush and roar of the cease-
less tide of traffic, stands the monument which com-
memorates the untimely and tragic fate of this brave and
gallant gentVnian.
€t
AS MEN THAT DREAMED,
»»
III
and had to break up the houses to bake our
bread and cook our rations.
"At last, one morning in spring — it was
May-day, and I '11 always keep it as a holi-
day — the lookout on Citadel Hill cried out,
*A sail! a sail!' We all crowded to the ram-
parts and walls, and there, slowly rounding
the headland of Point Levis, was the van of
the British fleet, with the dear old Union Jack
flying at the peak. How we cheered and
hugged each other, and laughed and cried by
turns, and the drums beat a joyous roll, and
the bugles blew a blithe fanfare, and the big
guns fired a double royal salute, although it
used up nearly the last of our powder!
"With the flood-tide the fleet came sailing
up the broad river, with their white sails
swelling in the wind, like a flock of snowy
swans, and the sailors manned the yards, and
red-coats lined the bulwarks, and the bands
played *God Save the King* and * Britannia
Rules the Waves,' and our men shouted and
sang, and Commissary Tufiy exhorted and
prayed, and the old Highlanders and their
jsaa
112
BARBARA HECK,
\
Cameronian sergeant all gathered in the king's
bastion and sang, between shouts and sobs,
the psalm:
'Had not the Lord been on our side —
May Israel now say —
Had not the Lord been on our side,
When men rose us to slay,
They had us swallowed quick, when as
Their wrath 'gainst us did flame ;
Waters had covered us — our soul
i I Had sunk beneath the stream.
Then had the waters, swelling high,
Over our soul made way.
Bless'd be the Lord, who to their teeth
Us gave not for a prey !
Our souls escaped as a bird
Out of the fowler's snare ;
The snare asunder broken is,
And we escaped are.'
'.; u
"Then they sang:
'When Sion's bondage God turned back,
As men that dreamed were we;
Then filled with laughter was our month,
Our tongue with melody.'
"And the enemy in their trenches saw the
ships and heard the guns, and they turned
and fled, like the army of Sennacherib, leav-
ing their tents and their stores behind, and
even their sick in their beds. And we went
M
tn
ie
d
id
Lt
**AS MEN THAT DRBAMBD:*
XI3
out and spoiled their camp, as the people of
Samaria spoiled the camp of the Syrians, and
we brought in their sick and wounded, and
tended them as carefully as if they were
our own."
Such was, in brief, the narrative, divested
of its interruptions and amplifications, given
by John Lawrence to his attentive auditory,
of the terrible winter of the last siege of
Quebec
Chapter X.
i f
i
?.
f k
. f.
WHITE- WINGED PEACE.
THE weary years of the war dragged their
slow length along. The seasons came
and went, bringing no surcease of the strange,
unQatural strife between the mother and the
daughter land. Meanwhile the American Col-
onies had thrown off their allegiance to the
mother country by the celebrated Declaration
of Independence, which was solemnly adopted
by the Continental Congress, July 4, 1776.
The British had already been obliged to
evacuate Boston.
Notwithstanding the protests of J^ord Chat-
ham and Lord North against the war, the
English king and his ministers persisted in
their policy of coercion. The following springy
General Burgoyne, who had been appointed
to the supreme military command, set out
from Canada, with nine thousand men, tov in-
vade the State of New York by way of Lake
Champlain, effect a junction with General
"4
k fe"'.-
WHJTE-WINGED PEACE,
115
■t,
\
Gage at Albany, and sever the American Con-
federacy by holding the Hudson River. He
captured Ticonderoga, and advanced to Port
Edward. The New England and New York
militia swarmed around the invading army,
cut off its supplies, and, familiar with the
ground, attacked its detached forces with fatal
success. Burgoyne was defeated at Stillwater,
on the Hudson, and soon afterwards, being
completely surrounded, surrendered, with six
thousand men, to General Gates, at Saratoga.
This surrender led to the recognition of Amer-
ican independence by the French, and to their
active assistance of the revolt by money, arms,
ships, and volunteers. The occupation of
Philadelphia by the British, and the defeat of
the Americans t\t Brandywine and German-
town,' were, however, disheartening blows to
the young Republic.
The Revolutionary War continued, with
varying fortune, to drag its weary length.
Several European officers, of high rank and
distinguished military ability, placed their
swords at the disposal of the young Republic
of the West, and rendered valuable service in
1x6
BARBARA HBCK,
M
!i
:.
';
*
i:
\
It
t.
^;
^-
organizingi animating, and leading its armies.
Among these were the Barons Steuben and
DeKalb; the brave Polish patriots, Kosciuszko
and Pulaski; and, most illustrious of them all,
the gallant Marquis de la Payette. The genius
and moral dignity of Washington sustained
the courage of his countrymen under repeated
disaster and defeat, and commanded the ad-
miration and respect of even his enemies.
The last great act of this stormy drama was
the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, with seven
thousand troops, at Yorktown, Virginia, Octo-
ber 19, 1781. Lord Chatham, Lord North,
and many of the leading minds of Great
Britain, were averse to the prosecution of the
war, and now public opinion compelled the
king and ministry to recognize the independ-
ence of ihe revolted Colonies; and the angel
of peace at last waved her branch of olive
over the weary continent.
We return now to trace more minutely the
fortunes of the principal characters in our
little story. During the long years of the
war they lived quietly in the town of Mont-
real, whose growth was stimulated to fictitious
WHITB'WINGED PEACE,
117
ti,
prosperity by the .military movements upon
the adjacent frontier. The little group of
loyalist exiles shared this prosperity. Paul
Heck found constant employment — notwith-
standing his honest scruples about fighting —
in the construction of gun-carriages and other
military carpentry, and John Lawrence as
house-joiner. The latter, soon after his re-
turn from Quebec, built a small, neat house
for himself in the suburbs.
Hither, the following spring, he brought as
his bride the blooming young widow, Mary
Embury. It was a very quiet wedding. They
were married by the military chaplain, in the
little English church which had been erected
for the use of the growing English popula-
tion. Theirs being the first marriage cele-
brated in the church, they received from the
Church wardens the present of as handsome
a Bible and Prayer-book as the store of the
principal mercer and draper of the town, who
was also the only bookseller, contained.
After the marriage ceremony they received
a hearty "infare" to their own house, under
the motherly management of Barbara Heck.
i-i
Il8
BAXBAJIA HECK.
%
Nor was this little group of Methodists with-
out the chastening efifects of sorrow. Two
children, the daughters of Paul and Barbara
Heck — sweet girls, about twelve and eight
years old — within a short period of each other,
died. The parent's heart was stricken sore;
but smiling through her tears, Barbara con-
soled her husband with the holy words: **The
Ivord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ;
blessed be the name of the I^ord.*'
Such were the difficulties and obstructions
of travel during the war that none of their
old loyalist neighbors in the province of New
York were able to carry out their cherished
purpose of escaping to the great northern prov-
ince which still remained loyal to the king.
At the close of the war, however, a number
of them reached Montreal, and, after a tem-
porary sojourn there, sought new homes in
what was then the virgin wilderness of Upper
Canada, and was recently erected into a prov-
ince. The Hecks and I<awrences, desirous of
returning to .the simple agricultural life in
which they had been bred, resolved to join
them. The sturdy boys of Paul and Barbara
fi
WHITE-WINGED PEACE,
119
Heck were growing up almost to man's es-
tate; indeed, the oldest was over twenty-one.
The little company of Methodist pioneers,
therefore, again set their faces to the wil-
derness.
"We go forth, like Abraham, not knowing
whither we go," said Barbara Heck. But
with the prescient instinct of a mother in
Israel, she added: "But I have faith to be-
lieve that this is my last removal, and that
God will give us a home, and to our seed
after us. A many changes have I seen. I
seek now a quiet resting-place, and a grave
among my children and my children's
children."
Prophetic words ! She now sleeps her last
sleep amid her kinsfolk after the flesh; and
her spiritual kinsfolk — the great Methodist
community of whom she was the mother and
pioneer in this new province — far and wide,
have filled the land.
At lyachine, above the rapids in the river,
the little company embarked their household
gear in a brigade of stout bateaux. Along
the river's bank the boys drove the cattle that
lao
BARBARA HECK.
were to stock the future farms. The oxen
were employed, also, in dragging the bateaux
at the Cedar and Gallops Rapids. Night after
night they drew up their boats and pitched
their tents in the shadows of the primeval
forest.
At length, after a week's strenuous toil,
these pioneers of civilization reached the
newly-surveyed township of Augusta, in
which were the allotted lands for which they
held the patents of the Crown. They lay on
the broad upland slope of the St. Lawrence,
in full view of the rushing river, near the spot
where the pretty village of Maitland now
stands. They found, with little difficulty, the
blazed trees, with the surveyor's marks, by
which they recognized their several allot-
ments. The tents were pitched beneath the
forest shade, the boats unladed, the fires
kindled, and in the long twilight — it was the
early spring — they ate their bread in their
new home, if home it could be called, while
not yet a tree was felled, with gladness aud
singleness of heart ; and, like Jacob at Bethel,
erected an altar, and worshiped the God of
' »
i
WH1TB-WINGBD PEACE,
121
their fathers in that lofty- vaulted and solemn-
aisled cathedral of the forest.
Day after day the keen-edged axes ring
through the woods. The immemorial mon-
archs of the forest are felled to the earth, and
soon, shorn of their branches, lie cut in log-
lengths on the sward. Strong arms and brave
hearts build the first rude log-houses. The
children gather moss to stuff the chinks. The
rough ** stick chimney'* is constructed; but
most of the cooking is still done out of doors
by the women, beneath the shade of broad-
armed maples. The straining oxen, with
much shouting and " haw-gee ''-ing of their
drivers, drag the huge logs into heaps, and
all hands, including women and children, help
to gather the brush and branches of the felled
trees. These, soon drying in the sun, help to
kindle the log-heaps, which blaze and smolder
day after day, like the funeral pyre of some
sylvan Sardanapalus, till only a bed of ashes
tells of the cremation of these old forest kings.
The rich alluvial soil is rudely scratched with
a harrow, and the seed wheat and corn and
potatoes are committed to its care, and soon
122
BARBARA HECK,
the late stern and frowning wilderness laughs
with the waving harvest.
The dim forest aisles are full of sounds of
mystery and delight. The noisy finches call
out unceasingly: "Sow the wheat I sow the
wheat!" The chattering blue-jay, who, clad
in regalest purple, sows not, neither does he
reap, laughs derisively as the farmers toil.
The scarlet-crested woodpecker, like some
proud cardinal, haughtily raps upon the hol-
low beech. In the pensive twilight the plaint-
ive cry of the whip-poor-will is heard; and at
the solemn midnight, from the top of the
blasted pine, shrieks the ghostly whoop of the
great horned-owl, as if demanding who dare
molest his ancient solitary reign. The wild
flowers are to the children a perpetual de-
light — the snowy trilliums; the sweet wood
violet; the purple iris; the waxen and fra-
grant pond-lily, with its targe-like floating
leaf; and, like Moses' bush, ever burning, ever
unconsumed, the flame-like brilliance of the
cardinal flower. \
Before winter, the transformation of the
scene was wonderful. A cluster of houses
H
WHITB-WINGBD PEACE,
123
formed a nucleus of civilization in the wilder-
ness. The cattle were comfortably housed in
a combined stable and bam, one deep bay of
which was filled with the golden sheaves of
ripentu grain. While the wind howled loud
without, the regular thud, thud, of the falling
flail made sweet music to the farmer's ear.
The wind-winnowed grain was either pounded
with a wooden pestle in a hollowed tree-stump,
or ground in hand-mills by those fortunate
enough to possess them. Not unfrequently
would be heard, in the long, drear nights of
winter, when the trees snapped with frost and
the ice on the river rent with an explosion
like cannon, the melancholy, long-drawn howl
of the pack of wolves, and more than once
the sheep-pen was invaded, and their fleecy
victim was devoured to the very bones. Amid
such privations and hardships as these did the
pilgrim fathers of the United States and Can-
ada lay the foundations of the neighboring
Commonwealths.
Amid their secular labors, the pioneers did
not forget nor neglect their spiritual hus-
bandry. True to their providential mission.
■i
s^i?-.
^/
124
^i4J?^ylff^ /TECAr.
tHey became the founders and pioneers of
Methodism in Upper Canada, as they had been
in the United States. In the house of John
and Mary I^awrence, the widow of Philip Em-
bury, a class-meeting was forthwith organized,
of which Samuel Embury, a promising young
man, walking in the footsteps of his sainted
father, was the first leader. Among its first
members were Paul and Barbara Heck; and
the names of their three sons, recorded on its
roll, perpetuate the godly traditions of their
house, which, like the house of Rechab, has
never failed to have a man **to stand before
the Lord.'* "They thus anticipated," re-
marks Dr. Stevens, "and in part prepared the
way for the Methodist itinerancy in Canada,
as they had in the United States; for William
Losee, the first regular Methodist preacher in
Canada, did not enter the province till 1790.
The germ of Canadian Methodism was planted
by these memorable families five or six years
before Losee's arrival." *
♦Centenary volnme, p. 179.
Chapter XI.
QUAKER AND CAVALIER.
A SOMEWHAT wider range of characters
now comes upon the scene of our little
story. The second year after the settlement
of the Palatine Methodists on the banks of
the St. Lawrence, the little community
re htd a re-enforcement of its numbers.
T iv-ids the close of a sunny day in May
the snowy sails of two large bateaux were
seen ro ending the headland that shut o£f the
view of the lower reaches of the river. The
bateaux made for the shore, and almost the
whole population of the little hamlet went
down to the landing to give the new-comers
a welcome; for this was the most notable
event which had happened since their own
arrival.
In the bow of the foremost boat stood a
venerable-looking man, with a snowy beard
and long, iron-gray hair resting on his shoul-
ders. He wore a low-crowned , broad-brimmed
125
i ;.:
-1
u
...! •
126
BARBARA HECK,
u
hat, and a butternut-colored coat with a
straight collar and cutaway skirt. Rowing
the two boats were a number of younger men ;
but they all wore the same antiquated cos-
tume, and were marked by the same gravity
of expression. The women, of whom there
were five or six of different ages, wore com-
fortable brown-stuff go^ns and drab-colored,
deep "poke-bonnets,'* but quite innocent of
boT' or ribbon, save that by which they were
tied. Even the children nestling in the boats
wore a garb remarkably like that of their
elders, and had a strangely old-fashioned
look.
"Peace be to this place and to all who
dwell here," gravely said the old man, as the
bateaux grated on the shingle.
"We bid you welcome in the name of the
Lord," replied Paul Heck, who was the rec-
ognized head of the little community, at the
same time extending his hand in greeting.
The younger men took hold of the bateaux,
and dragged them up on the beach, and as-
sisted the voyagers to disembark.
" We have been moved to seek homes here
QUAKER AND CAV ALTER,
127
in this province/* spoke the old man, *'and
to cast in our lot with the faithful subjects of
King George."
"Fain and glad we are to see you," said
Paul; **a goodly heritage has the king granted
us in this fertile land — a land which, like
Canaan of old, may be said to flow with milk
and honey."
"We desire no goodlier land than the one
we left on the banks of the Schuylkill, where
we and our fathers sojourned since the days
of William Penn. But we do desire to dwell
in a land of peace, where we shall never hear
again the dreadful bruits of war."
"We are of the same mind in that," re-
plied Paul* "Come and bide this night in
my house with your family. To-morrow we
will fidd your allotment, which must be higher
up the river."
"Thanks, good friend, for thy hospitality.
We gladly accept it. This is Hannah White-
side, my wife," he said, introducing a silver-
haired old lady with sweet, benignant expres-
sion of countenance; "and these," he added,
with a sweep of his arm to the younger groups.
'. t
'■^'^^S^KKW'' •■
128
BAXBAXA HECK,
W
**are my sons and my sons* wives, and their
little ones, and my daughters. The Lord hath
dealt bountifully with me, as with his servant
Jacob. It was borne in upon me to seek a
home in this northern land; and if the Lord
prosper us, our kinsfolk in Pennsylvania will
shortly follow us."
"You belong, I see," said Paul as they
walked to the house, "to the people called
Quakers. For them I have a great regard,
for their peace principles are like my own."
"The people of the world call us
Quakers," replied Jonas Whiteside — for that
was his name — "at first in derision and scorn.
But we resent not the word, although we
prefer to be called Friends."
"And very good friends we will be, I
hope," said Paul. "I will use the name that
you prefer."
"Nay, thee meant no harm, and we desire
to be friends with all," replied the patriarch.
"Peace be upon this house and household,"
he added, as he was ushered into the large
living room of the Heck family.
"We wish you peace in the name of the
QUAKER AND CAVALIER.
ia9
re
Lord)'* said Barbara Heck, giving them cor-
dial welcome, and bustling about to provide
for their entertainment.
**Dear heart, you must be tired with your
long journey," she said to the silver-haired
matron, as she relieved her of her bonnet
and shawl.
*'It more than makes amends to get such
kindly greeting where we expected to see
naught but red deer and red men," was the
soft-voiced answer. **I like thee much.
What is thy name?"
** Barbara Heck, and my goodman's name
is Paul Heck."
"We who are of the Friends' persuasion
use not the world's titles. Be not offended if
I call thy husband Friend Paul, and thyself
Barbara; and I prithee call me Hannah. It
will seem more homelike in this far-off
place."
The two women soon became fast friends.
They had much in common — the same un-
worldly, spiritual nature; the same habitual
communion with the Unseen; the same moral
sensitiveness to the illumining of the "inner
J-f"
130
BARBARA HECK,
light." But there was a greater mental vigor
in Barbara Heck; and pleasant it was to see
Hannah Whiteside, with her smooth and pla-
cid brow unwrinkled by a single line or mark
of care, listening to the words of shrewd
practical wisdom of Barbara Heck, amid
whose once raven hair the silver threads of
age had now begun to appear.
Lodging was found for the younger women
in the capacious attic, while the men were
gladly content with the dry, clean beds of
straw in the barn.
The "Quaker Settlement," as it came to be
called, was only a couple of miles further up
the river, and their coming imparted a com-
fortable sense of good neighborhood, which
took away much of the sense of isolation
which during the first year had been, at times,
oppressively felt by the Methodist pioneers.
Soon another company of settlers arrived,
whose presence added still greater variety
and color to the social life of the little forest
community. These were several Virgihia
families of wealth and position, who, for serv-
ices to the crown during the troublous times
QUAITBR AND CAVALIER.
131
of the war, had received liberal land-grants
in upper Canada. With them they brought
several of their domestic slaves, whose pres-
ence literally added **more color** to the so-
cial life, and contributed not a little to the
social amusement of the young people of the
settlement. Slavery had not then become in
America the system of cruel oppression which
it was even then in the West Indies, and
which it afterwards became in the cotton and
sugar States of the Union. These light-
hearted, careless creatures had been the farm
and house servants of easy-going masters, who
would have shrunk from the thought of per-
sonal unkindness and oppression — ^beyond the
great and grave oppression of holding an im-
mortal being in bondage, like a beast of bur-
den or a mere chattel. But of that they
thought not. No one thought. Even good
and philanthropic men like George Whitefield
deemed it no harm to own slaves; but, of
course, they felt it a duty to use them kindly.
But the number of slaves in Canada was
few, and public opinion secured their good
treatment. In fact, slavery can not flourish
139
BARBARA NBCK,
in a northern climate, where thrift and care-
ful industry are essential prerequisites to
prosperity. These can never be attained by
enforced and unpaid labor. It is only in
southern climates, where the prolific soil
yields her increase in response to careless
tillage, and where shelter and clothing are
almost superfluous, that, from the thriftless
toil of purchased thews and sinews, can be
wrung a thriftless compensation. It is the
blessing, not the bane, of a northern land that
only by the strenuous toil of unbought mus-
cles can the earth be subdued and made the
free home of free men.
The leading member of this company of
Virginia loyalists was Colonel Isaac Pember-
ton, a man of large and portly person, who to
the politeness of a perfect gentleman added
great dignity of bearing. He had served on
the staff of Lord Comwallis in the Royalist
army, on which account he was always spoken
of by the honorary title of "Colonel " Pember-
ton. His sons had also served as volunteers
in the same army, but only in the untitled ca-
pacity of "full privates." By the surrender of
i.-
QUAKER AND CAVALIER.
133
Cornwallis at Yorktown, the Petnbertons be-
came prisoners of war, but after having been re-
leased on parole they were at length exchanged
for some leading insurgents who were confined
on board the hulks at Halifax. The vast
Pemberton estate on the Upper Potomac, and
all the broad demesne, yielding a rich annual
revenue in tobacco and grain, with the stately
country-house in which the gallant colonel had
been wont to dispense an open-handed Vir-
ginian hospitality, were, however, confiscated.
The colonel brought to Canada a considerable
amount of ready money in solid English
guineas, together with the valuable jewels
of his wife and daughters, including a neck-
lace of considlerable value, though of rather
tasteless design, which had been a present
from good Queen Anne to his own mother —
who had been one of the queen's maids of
honor — on her wedding day.
His large troop of slaves were of course
confiscated with his estate. But through
some oversight or informality, two old "body-
servants," who had acted respectively as valet
and butler, together with their wives and
«34
BARBARA HECK,
brood of ** pickaninnies," were permitted to
share the fallen fortunes of their master.
This the faithful creatures gladly did, for
they felt that upon their fidelity depended
very largely the dignity and honor of the
house. These sable satellites rejoiced in the
somewhat pompous names, bestowed by the
classic taste of the colonePs father — ^who had
been an Oxford graduate— of Julius Caesar
and Cneius Pompey; but they were for most
part more briefly designated as **You Jule,"
or "You Pomp"^r Uncle Pomp or Uncle
Jule, as their master preferred to call them.
And very patriarchal those faithful old serv-
ants looked, their heads as white as the
bursting bolls of the cotton-plant, or as the
large globes which surmounted the gate-posts
of the hospitable mansion, when covered with
a cap of fleecy snow.
Much more important members of the
Household, however, and equally faithful in
sharing its fallen fortunes, were the wives of
these classic magnates — "Mammy Dinah,"
the ancient nurse of a generation of young
Pembertons; and Aunt Chloe, the oracle and
^^..^.
QUAKER AND CAVALIER,
X35
priestess of the kitchen, who had presided at
the mysteries of the cuisine in the palmy days
of routs and parties and lavish hospitality.
Their names were popular corruptions of the
whimsical cognomens bestowed by their
former master, Diana and Cleopatrr.
^^Hab my liberty, eh?" said Mammy
Dinah when told by Colonel Pembf rton that
she and her husband were free to go where
they pleased. ''Not if I knows it. I hain't
nussed Mas'r George and Mas'r Ned an<i the
young leddies when they wuz leetle picka-
ninnieSi through mumps and measles, to lose
sight on 'em now. No, Mas'r, ye do n't get
red o' me that a-way, no how!'*
" Laws, honey I" chimed in Aunt Chloe,
"what 'ud Missis ever do widout me^ I'd like
ter know? Could n't even make ;t rDrn-dodger
or slapjack widout ole Chloe. Ye can't do
widout me, no how. De ting's onpossible!
"No, indeed, Mammy and Aunty," said
Mrs. Pemberton, a delicate little woman, with
a low, soft voice, " I do n't know what we 'd
do without eituci of you. I 'm so glad you
do n't want to leave us. But we 've lost all
,;«5 .-
136
BARBARA HECK,
our property, you know, and we will have to
go away o£f to Canada, to the wild backwoods^
where nobody ever lived before."
*^A11 de more need for ole Mammy and
Chloe to go wid ye, and nuss ye, and care for
ye and mas'r," said the faithful Dinah. "We
can die for ye, honey, but we can*t leave ye."
So the whole household, with these faith-
ful servants, took passage in a schooner down
the Potomac to Hampton Roads, where they
were transferred to a British ship, which had
been sent to convey the Virginia loyalists to
the port of Halifax, in the province of Nova
Scotia. It was a small and crowded vessel.
There were many refugees on board, and the
autumnal equinox had brought with it fierce
Atlantic gales. Three weeks they beat about
that stern, inhospitable coast — those delicately-
nurtured women suffenng all the discomforts
and privations of seasickness, and of the
crowded cabins and short allowance of water
and provisions, before their almost ship-
wrecked vessel, with tattered canvas, glided,
like a storm-tossed bird with weary wing, into
the noble harbor of refuge, where the fair city
r
QUAKER AND CAVALIER,
137
i
of Halifax now extends her spacious streets
and squares.
It was on the verge of winter. Many of the
refugees were suffering from lack of clothing,
and many of them were without money to
procure either food or shelter. Among them
were men and women of gentle birth and
delicate nurture, ex-judges of His Majesty's
court.s, ex-o£G[cers of His Majesty's army,
clergymen of Oxford training, planters, and
country gentlemen, all reduced from compe-
tence to poverty on account of their fidelity
to their conscience and their king. But the
best provision that it was possible to make
for their comfort was made. The king's
stores were thrown open, and ample supplies
of food, blankets, and tents were furnished,
and accommodation was provided as far as pos-
sible for the refugees in the barracks of the
troops and in private houses.
Some took up land in Nova Scotia, others —
among them Colonel Pemberton and his
family — ^preferred to make the journey to the
more distant wilds of Canada. These had to
remain in camp or barrack through the long
138
BARBARA HECK.
and dreary months of a winter of unusual
severity. In the spring, when the ice was
thought to be out of the Gulf and River St.
Lawrence, a transport was sent to convey
them to Quebec and Montreal. But much de-
lay and discomfort were experienced before the
transport cast anchor beneath the fortress-
crowned height of Quebec. But the troubles
of our refugees were now almost at an end.
As if an omen and augury of their future
prosperity, the month of May opened warm
and sunny. A sudden transfiguration of the
face of nature took place. A green flush
overspread the landscape. The air was filled
with the pollen and catkins of the larch and
willows. When our travelers landed on the
river bank at Montreal, they found the blue-
eyed violets blooming under the very shadow
of the ** ice-shove," where the frozen surface
of the river had been piled up upon the shore ;
and before the snowdrifts had melted from
the hollows a whiter drift of apple-blossoms
had covered as with a bridal veil the orchard
trees.
The welcome of the Virginia loyalists at
QUAKER AND CAVALIER.
139
the Heck Settlement, as it Had begun to be
called, was no lesj cordial than had been that
of the more peaceful and less aristocratic
Quakers of the previous year. They had all
sufifered for a common cause ; and community
of suffering is the strongest bond of sympathy
and friendship.
i t
'i
;j ; \
■•'m
■^■^fffp
Chapi^r XII.
A LII $ DRAMA.
THE mutual helpfulness that prevailed
among the early settlers threw into inti-
mate contact and placed under mutual obliga-
tion the ne v7-comers,both Quaker and Cavalier^
and the Heck family. On the narrow stage
of this backwoods scene was played by these
humble actors the grand drama of human life,
nor were there wanting any of the elements
which give it dignity and sublimity* There
were the deep, immortal yearnings of the soul
for a fairer and loftier ideal than this world
oj0fers, the hungry cravings of the heart for
affection and sympathy, the aspiration of the
spirit for a higher and holier life. Beneath
the prosaic surface of rural toil there were, for
the young hearts awaking to self-conscious-
ness amid their forest • surroundings, a rich
mine of poetry and romance. ^
Nature, in her varied moods and with her
myriad voices, spoke her secrets to their souls.
140
A LIFE DRAMA,
141
The gladsome coming of the spring kindled
joyous pulses in their frames. The rich lux-
uriance of the summertide was a constant
psalm of praise. The sad suggestions of the
autumn, with its wailing winds and weeping
skies and falling leaves^ lent a pensiveness to
their spirits. And when the deep snows of
winter clothed the world "with ermine too
dear for an earl," their hearty out-of-door life
and cheerful home joys bade defiance to the
icy reign of the frost-king. To gentler na-
tures, the deep shadows of the lonely forest
aisles, the quiet beauty of the forest flowers,
the solemn sunsets on the shining river, and
the mysterious whisperings of the night-winds
among the needles of the pine, so like the
murmuring of the distant sea, were a perpetual
and deep delight
The fair Katharine Heck, the youngest
child of Paul and Barbara, was now a bloom-
ing maiden in her later teens, who inherited
her mother's early beauty and mental acute-
ness, and her father's placid and contempla-
tive disposition. The loveliness of character
and person of the young girl made a profound
.:^:*^
142
BARBARA HECK,
impression on the susceptible southern tem-
perament of Reginald Pemberton, a younger
son of the gallant colonel. The alert mind of
Barbara Heck observed, with a mother's so-
licitude, the unconscious attachment spring-
ing up between these young hearts, and read
their secret before the principals were aware
of it themselves. While Reginald ^as a
youtli of noble spirit and manly, generous
character, still lie ^/as ignorant of the great
regenerating chati'^e which the pious Method-
ist mother regarded as the prime essential —
the "one thing needful" — to secure his own
and her daughter's happiness. Moreover, he
belonged to a proud and aristocratic family,
who were, in their social standing and their
ideas, emphatically "people of the world;"
and how could those who felt themselves the
"heirs of the kitigdom" smile on such a
worldly alliance? Moreover, she was as proud
in her way as any Pemberton living, and would
not brook that union with a child of hers
should be considered a misalliance by the
bluest blood in the realm.
Much troubled with these thoughts, the de-
Il
A LIFE DRAMA.
143
vout Barbara thus communed one day with
goodman Paul:
" Have you not observed, Paul, that young
Pemberton is vastly more attentive to Kath-
arine than is good for either of them?"
"No, I can't say that I have," replied Paul,
■with a look of surprised inquiry. "Have
you ?"
"To be sure I have," rejoined the anxious
matron. "He is mooning around here half
the time."
"Is he? How do you know he does not
come to see the boys?"
" Come to see the boys, indeed ! A ud is it
to the boys he brings the bouquets of wild
flowers and baskets of butternuts? And was
it for the boys he tamed the raccoon that he
gave to Kate?"
"Well, where *s the harm? Kate is only a
child yet."
"Only a child? She is near nineteen."
"Is she? Dear me, so she is. It seems
only a little while since she was a baby."
" The boy is so shy that he scarcely ever
speaks to her; but he is as content to sit
10
S'f*V™'W>JW^v|ff'^?\'^'!'T^^?^^^^^'wWW
144
BARBARA HECK,
dumb in her presence as a cat is to bask in
the sun."
** Humph! I know somebody who used to
be quite content to sit dumb in yours. Well,
mother, what do you want me to do about it?"
" Do about it? That *s what I do n*t know.
Can't you tell him not to come ^o often, or
something?"
"Fie, Barbara! Do you think I would be
guilty of such a breach of hospitality? Leave
the young folks alone. You will only be put-
ting nonsense into their heads if you do any-
thing at all. Katie is a good girl. You can
trust her innocent heart. She loves her old
father yet better than any other man, I 'se
warrant."
So the matter dropped for the time, al-
though Barbara mentally resolved to warn
Katharine not to let her affections become en-
tangled.
That evening, in the golden glow of sun-
set, Katharine Heck was spinning in the ample
"living-room" of the large and rambling
house. The amber-colored light flashed back
from the well-scoured tins and burnished brass
A LIFE DRAMA,
145
S
kettles and candlesticks on the dresser, and
tinged with bronze her glossy hair. And a
very pretty picture she made, clad in her sim-
ple calico gown, as she walked gracefully back
and forth from her wheel, now giving it a
swift whirl, and then stepping back as she
dexterously drew out the yarn from the fleecy
rolls of wool. Evidently young Pemberton
was of the same opinion, as he stood for a
moment at the open door, holding in his hand
a string of beautiful speckled trout, fresh from
a sparkling stream near by.
"Good-evening, Mistress Kate I" he said,
after a pause. " I Ve brought a few fish, for
your mother, that I have just caught in Brae-
side Burn."
*' O, thanks I How pretty they are ! Mother
will be so much obliged," said the maiden,
taking the string of fish.
*^I 'm not so sure of that," said the young
man. "I'm sometimes afraid I Ve offended
your mother. I do n't know how, unless she
thinks I am idle, because I 'm so fond of my
rod and gun. I learned that in old Virginia,
And can't easily unlearn it."
\^'
146
BARBARA HECK,
"She won't object to your sport to-day, at
any rate,'' said Kate, with a laugh; "for
mother can fry trout better than any one in
the world. You must stay, and have some;"
and she took the fish into the summer kitchen.
" And now,'* she said, as she came back,
**if you have been idle, you must make
amends by being useful. I have been want-
ing some one to hold my yam while I
wind if*
" I am so awkward, I 'm afraid I '11 tangle
it; but I '11 do my best," said the blushing
boy, as he stretched out his hands to receive
the skein.
True to his fears, he soon did tangle it,
letting several threads off at once; and as
Kate deftly disentangled the skein, he thought
her the loveliest being that poet's fancy ever
conceived.
At this juncture the matronly Barbara en-
tered the room to thank their visitor for his
present. The self-conscious youth fancied —
or was it fancy? — that he observed a severer
expression than usual in her eye, though her
I jords of thanks were exceedingly polite.
A LIFE DRAMA,
147
"I am playing tbe part of Hercules with
Omphale/' said the stalwart youth, who had
acquired a tincture of classic lore at the
grammar-school at Annapolis, in Virginia;
"but I can succeed better at my own work
of holding the plow or wielding my fish-
ing-rod,"
"The former ot these employments is the
more profitable in a new country like this,"
said Barbara, with emphasis; "although the
trout are not to be despised," she continued,
relaxing into a smile, "and you must stay and
have some."
About the homely farm and household
duties of the youth and maid, love wove its
sweet romance; and the older hearts, remem-
bering the fond emotions of their youth, could
not chill with censorious words their budding
and innocent afiection.
A favorite amusement of the young people,
in the long summer twilights, when the after-
glow of sunset was reflected from the shining
reaches of the river, like a sea of glass min-
gled with fire, and when the great white har-
vest-moon climbed, like a wan specter, up the
I4S
BARBARA HECK.
eastern sky, was to sail or row upon the bosom
of the broad St. L/awrence; and often they
would beguile the delicious hours with such
song and music as their somewhat primitive
tastes had acquired. On such occasions, young
Hannah and Reuben Whiteside often joined
the party, finding in its innocent mirth a re-
lief from the somewhat pallid quietism of
their home-life.
One lovely August evening, Paul and Bar-
bara Heck were making a friendly call on the
hospitable Whiteside family at the Quaker
Settlement As they sat in the soft and silver
moonlight, on the broad ** stoop" of the low-
walled, broad-eaved log-house, the sound of
sweet strains of music, wafted over the water,
stole upon their ears. In the hush of twi-
light, when even the whip-poor-wilPs plaint-
ive cry was at intervals distinctly heard,
floated soft and clear, in the rich tenor voice
of Reginald Pemberton, the notes of the sweet
Scottish song:
"Mazwellton's braes are bonnie, \
Where early fa's the dew;
For 'twas there that Annie Laurie
Gave me her promise true —
M
6
H
BB
O
8
M
M
(/>
Q
<
(^
H
n
H
5
H
BS
H
A LIFE DRAMA, 149
Gave me her promise true,
And ne'er forget 'will I;
But for bonnie Annie I^aurie
I '11 lay me down and die."
More charmed than she liked to confess,
Barbara Heck, in whose soul was a rich though
seldom-touched vein of poetry, listened to the
simple strain.
" It *s a worldly song," she said, at length ;
"but the music is very sweet. Pity that such
gifts were not employed in singing the praise
of their Giver.'*
"After a pause, the sweet and pure con-
tralto voice of Katharine Heck trilled forth
the words of her favorite hymn :
"All hail the power of Jesus' name I
Let angels prostrate fall;
Bring foi th the royal diadem,
And crown him Lord of all."
Then every voice joined in the triumphant
chorus, which came swelling in a psean of
praise oyer the waves :
"Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crowi him Lord of all."
The tears stood in Hannah Whiteside's
soft brown eyes as she said, with a sigh, in
n
I
>•%
■\
\ 14
150
i^Ai?^^^^ /r^CAT.
which the long repression of her emotional
nature found vent:
"Why should we not have such holy hymns
in our worship^ Jonas?"
"Nay, dear heart, it needs not," answered
the patriarch. "When we listen to the Spirit's
inner voice, it is meet that we commune with
our own hearts and be still."
"But still, the deepest feelings of our souls,
their adoration and their love, crave for ex-
pression in sac. "* song; and God's servants
of old time praised him in his holy temple
with psaltery and harp."
" But that was in the carnal dispensation of
form and ceremony. We who live in the later
dispensation of the Spirit, must serve God in
spirit and in truth, making melody in our
hearts unto the I<ord."
"But you do n'l think the singing of
hymns wrong, do you?" asked Paul Heck.
"We judge no man," replied the God-fear-
ing Quaker. " To his own Master he standeth
or falleth. We must follow the guidance of
the Inner I^ight."
" Perhaps we deem as erringly," said Bar-
A LIFE DRAMA,
151
bara, as she walked home through the moon-
light with her husband, '4n condemning as
worldly such songs as so deeply touch our
deeper and nobler nature, as Friend White-
side does in condemning our psalms and
hymns."
Chapter XIII.
THE PIONEER PREACHER.
THE little forest community was soon to be
stirred by a deep religious impulse, the
results of wliich only the great day shall de-
clare. At the close of a sultry day in the
midsummer of 1790, there rode into the Heck
Settlement a man of somewhat notable ap-
pearance. He was about eight-and-twenty
years of age, of tall and well-knit figure, save
that one arm seemed quite shriveled or par-
alyzed. Nevertheless, he was a fearless horse-
man, riding at a gallop through the root-en-
tangled forest paths, and boldly leaping his
horse across the pools made by the recent
rains. He wore a coarse felt hat, homespun,
snuff-colored coat — to which a somewhat cler-
ical air was given by a straight collar and cut-
away skirts — and leathern leggings. Behind
him were the inevitable saddle-bags and his
coarse frieze coat. Riding up to the house of
Paul Heck) without dismounting, he knocked
15a
'
THE PIONEER PREACHER,
153
\
'
y
with his riding-whip on one of the posts of
the "stoop."
" I am a Methodist preacher," he said. " Can
I preach here to-morrow?" For it was Satur-
day evening.
"Fain and glad will we be to have you,"
said Paul Heck, as he came forward.
"Can I have lodging and provender for
myself and horse?" continued the preacher.
"Ay, and welcome. Get you down," said
Paul, extending his hand in friendly greet-
ing.
"Tell me first, will you warn the neigh-
bors of the preaching? If not, I will do so
myself before I dismount, although I have had
a long ride to-day."
" Ay, will we, near and far. Here, Barbara,
is a Methodist preacher," Paul called to his
good wife within the house.
" We wish you good luck in the name of
the L/ord !" said that hospitable matron, using
the language of the Prayer-book, with which
she had long been familiar. "Thank God, I
live to see the day!" she went on. "We are
Methodists, too, and we have pined and hun-
"I
154
BARBARA HECK.
gered for the preacliing of the Word as the
hungry long for food."
"Bless the I^rdl" said the preacher; "the
lines have fallen to me in pleasant places. I
knew not that there was a Methodist in Can-
ada, and here, the very day I enter the country,
I iit^d some.''
(^ly, and you '11 find a-many more, scat-
^ '^red up and down, and fain and glad they '11
je ^o see you," said Paul, using his customary
fci aula of welcome.
While the new preacher, whose name they
learned was William I^osee, the pioneer of the
goodly band of Methodist itinerants who soon
ranged the country, was doing ample justice
to the generous meal set before him — for he
had ridden forty miles that day — ^Jabez Heck,
Paul's son, proceeded to " warn " the neigh-
bors, near and far, of the preaching at his
father's house next day.
The great "living-room" and adjoining
kitchen were both filled, and on S mday morn-
ing the preacher stood in the doorway be-
tween the two, with a chair before him to
support his^ Bible and hymn-book. Having
1
\y
THE PIONEER PREACHER,
155
9m
\
\^
announced his text — "Repent ye, therefore,
and be converted, that your sins may be
blotted out when the times of refreshing shall
come from the presence of the Lord" — ^he
closed his book, and delivered, not an exposi-
tion, but a fervent exhortation, mingled, on
the part of both speaker and hearers, with
strong crying and tears. The class-meeting,
in which the Hecks, Lawrences, Samuel Em-
bury, and others who now for the first time
met, was held, and was a Bethel of delight.
The afternoon and evening congregations
were so large that the preaching had to be
held in the large bam. By night the fame of
the preacher had spread far and wide, and —
moved by devotion, by curiosity, or by a de-
sire to scoff and scorn — the whole neighbor-
hood was present. Of the latter class was a
wild and reckless young man, Joe Brouse by
name, who, standing near the door, was at-
tempting to turn into mockery and derision
the solemnities of divine worship. Aroused
to holy indignation by this sacrilege, Losee
lifted his eyes and hands to heaven, and cried
out, like one of the Hebrew prophets: "Smite
s^r
156
BARBARA HECK.
him, my God! my God, smite him!" "He
fell like a bullock under the stroke of the
butcher's ax," writes the historian of the
scene, "and writhed on the floor in agony
until the Lord in mercy set his soul at lib-
erty." * The emotion of that rustic congre-
gation became uncontrollable. Sighs and
groans and tears were heard on every side.
Preaching was impossible, and Losee and the
members of the little Methodist class gave
themselves to prayer, to counseling the seek-
ers after salvation, and to the singing of
hymns, which had a strangely tranquillizing
effect upon the congregation.
Early the next morning, Losee was on his
way to the Bay of Quints and Niagara Settle-
ments, leaving an appointment for that day
four weeks. Such was the aggressive mode
of gospel warfare of the pioneer itinerant.
There was much difference of sentiment in
the little community as to the services of the
day. The Methodists were greatly refreshed
in spirit, and Barbara Heck declared that it
♦Dr. Carroll's "Case, and his Contemporaries," Vol.
I, p. a
I
THE PIONEER PREACHER,
X57
n
I
was ^* a day of the Son of mail and of power,
Jonas Whiteside refrained from critisism, fur-
ther than to say that " God was not in the
earthquake, nor in the thunder, but in the
still small voice." Soft-voiced Hannah White-
side shrank within herself as from something
which jarred painfully upon her sensitive
spirit. Colonel Pemberton quite lost his po-
liteness in his anger that his son Reginald,
his hope and pride, through the ranting of a
Methodist fanatic, should degrade himself by
weeping for his sins and crying for pardon
alongside of that reprobate, Joe Brouse. Mrs.
Pemberton, a sincere and pious soul, trembled
with joy at her son's conversion and fear at
her husband's wrath. Mammy Dinah was in
ecstasies of joy. Her " hallelujahs " and " bress
de LoMs'* were frequent and loud. "Dis is
de ole kind o' *ligion," she said to Aunt Chloe,
" like we had in Ole Virginny.'* But Uncle Pom-
pey shook his head doubtfully, because it was a
Methodist and not a Baptist preacher through
whose ministrations the awakening took place.
But Joe Brouse, out of the depths of his con-
scious experience, exclaimed: ^* Whether he be
I5«
BARBARA HECK,
a ranting fanatic, I know not; but one thing
I know — ^whereas I was blind^ now I see."
And his strangely-altered life and godly con-
versation were a demonstration of the new
light that had fallen on his soul. For drunk-
enness and cursing, he put on the garments
of sobriety and praise; and none were more
diligent in attending the Methodist class and
prayer meeting, or more zealous in good
works.
k:f
Chapter XIV.
THE RECRUIT.
A PAINFUL scene tool ^^^ between
Colonel Pemberton anc )n as the
result of the great awakening which accom-
panied Losee's preaching. The young man
had become a zealous attendant at the Meth-
odist meetings, and, overcoming his natural
reserve, had thrown himself eagerly into
Christian work, taking part in public prayer,
and exhoTcing earnestly at the inquiry meet-
ings which from night to night were held in
Paul Heck*s house.
"Do you mean to set at defiance your
fatLtr*s authority, and to cast in your lot with
those fanatical Methodists?" demanded the
colonel, in a towering rage, one Monday morn-
ing, after Reginald had been particularly ear-
nest at the meeting the night before.
" Father, I owe you all obedience in things
temporal ; but where my duty toward God is
clear, I dare not disobey him."
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BARBARA HBCIT,
"And wlio IS to be the judge of your duty,
I 'd like to know, unless your father ?'' de-
manded the choleric old gentleman.
**We must each give account of our own
selves unto God, and I can not violate my
conscience even for the best of fathers."
"Why, this is flat rebellion, you ingrate,"
exclaimed the imperious colonel, quite ignor-
ing a plea which his own better judgment
would have been constrained to admit
"Nay, father," replied the youth, respect-
fully, "not rebellion, but the truest loyalty to
the Supreme Authority."
"Well, all I have to say is this," exclaimed
the colonel, in an outburst of petulance, "if
you join those fanatical Methodists, you are
no longer a son of mine.^'
"O, don't say that, father — anything but
that!" cried Reginald, with an agonized ex-
pression. <
"I have said it, and I mean it, too. Your
home shall be no more beneath this roof.
Well, what is your choice?" asked the stern
parent, with a gesture of impatience.
" My choice is made," replied the boy, with
( I
THE XBCRUIT.
l6l
i
r I
a pale bttt resolute expression. ** I have joined
the Methodists, and I will not forsake them.
It would be betraying my Master to turn back
from following after him."
"Well, as you have made your bed, you
must lie in it. Go! Let me see your face no
morel'* and the old gentleman turned angrily
away.
'*0 father, do not spurn me from your
door I" cried Reginald, seizing his hand; "or
let me see my mother once more before I go."
"No I" exclaimed the testy sire; "you are
breaking her heart with your ingratitude. It
will only give her needless pain," and he
snatched his hand suddenly away, and strode
out of the bam, where this interview had
taken place.
Reginald threw himself on the wheat-straw
in an agony of sobs and tears. The world
seemed to whirl around him. He seemed
sunken in the darkest midnight of despair.
The strongest earthly ties had snapped
asunder. It seemed as if the solid earth it-
self were rocking beneath his feet. In this
tempest of his soul there stole a thought —
^^-
v*a
gf^Cy^
(Esf,:'".'!,
i6a
BARBARA HBCK,
'¥
almost an audible voice, it seemed-— of sweet
and calm assurance, that tranquillized his
spirit: "When thy father and mother forsake
thee, then the Lord will take thee up;^ atfd
in prayer to his Father in heaven his agitated
feelings found repose.
He went forth an exile from his father's
house, with nothing but the homespun clothes
in which he stood. He wended his way to
the iQuaker Settlement to ask for work. The
good Quaker, Jonas Whiteside, finding in his
heroic spirit something akin to his own doc-
trine of passive resistance to persecution,
which the history of his sect had so signally
illustrated, gave him work and wages, which
relieved him from present anxiety about earn-
ing a living. It was very galling, however,
to the proud colonel to have his son and heir
working as a hired servant with his Qu?ki
neighbor. i
True as the sun to its appointed time, on
the evening before the meeting announced by
Elder Losee, that active itinerant cantefred
into the clearing of the Heck Settlement, veiy
much bespattered with mud, and with gar-
THE RECRUIT.
X63
ments somewhat frayed from contact with the
tangled underbrush of the wilderness; but
buoyant in heart and hope. In answer to
minute inquiry after the welfare and progress
of the recent converts, he soon lc;arned the
story Of Reginald's persecution an<l religious
fortitude. During the Sunday he called upon
him to pray, to speak in class, and to exhort
/ at the close of the afternoon meeting. After
\ . j supper he asked him to take a walk upon the
river bank. In the mellow light of the set-
ting sun they strolled along the lake-like
I margin of the broad St. Lawrence, Losee
speaking of the triumphs of the gospel during
his four weeks' ride of some six hundred miles,
and Reginald modestly answering the ques-
tions which he asked him. At length lyosee
stopped short, and, laying his hand impress-
ively upon the young man's shoulder, said,
abruptly:
"My brother, the Lord hath need of thee.
You must come with me !"
"Come where?" asked Reginald, in sur-
prise.
"Wherever the Lord shall show the way.
>M
m\
V!«-
164
BARBARA HBCK,
':./
I believe you are called of God to preach the
gospel. You must not be disobedient to the
heavenly call."
"When I gave myself to the Lord/^ said
the young man, after a short pause, "I gave
myself wholly, to do his will in any way that
he should show me. I would not run before
I am sent; but if he opens a way to preach
his Word, I would rejoice to go. I feel very
unfit and ignorant, but I have a joy in my soul
that I long to tell my fellow-men."
"Praise the Lord!" exclaimed the pioneer
preacher, with old-fashioned Methodist zeal.
" May it be as a fire in your bones that will
not be suppressed I I forewarn you, you shall
have hard toil and poor fare, and it may be
hunger and cold and peril and want; but God
calls you to the noblest work on earth, and to
a crown of glory in the skies."
"My soul says, *Here am I, Lord, send mfe,
if it be thy will, anywhere, or to do any
work,' " said the young man, with solemn en-
thusiasm. "When I was quite a boy I fol-
lowed the king's flag in more than one stormy
fight, and suffered bonds and imprisonment
■(
THE RECRUIT,
X65
for his cause) and now I am not afraid to do
as much for my Heavenly King."
**Have you a horse ?'^ abruptly asked Losee.
"No, nor a bridle either; but I have a good
pair of legS)'' said Reginald, with a smile.
"You must have a horse," said the preacher,
decidedly. "You might as well try to fly as
walk the rounds you will have to go."
"That means that the Lord don^t want
me to go, then, till I can earn money to buy
a horse."
"I am not so sure about that," replied
Losee. " Leave that to me."
And they walked back in the deepening
twilight to the bam, where a large company
were assembled — ^vaguely seen by the light of
a few lanterns — the men grouped on the right
and the women on the left
"Caa you lend young Pemberton a horse,
to ride the circuit with me?" Losee asked
Paul Heck that night, as they walked from
the bam.
"Ay, can I, as long as he likes," said the
generous Irish heart; "and do you mean to
take him with you now?"
\Y,
i66
BAnBARA HECK,
"Ay. The lad has preaching timber in
him, and I want to get him broken in a bit
before I recommend him to Conference."
So next morning, Reginald, in his home-'
spun clothes, rode away, mounted on Paul
Heck*s sorrel colt. Saddle, he had none; but
in lieu thereof he rode upon a folded she^^p-
skin, girt upon the horse. In this manner
were the early Methodist preachers sometimes
summoned to their work — ^like David from the
sheepcotes, or Elisha from the plow, or Amos
from the herds, or Peter from his nets; and
without staff or scrip, or money in their purse,
they fared forth on their spiritual errand.
Great was the surprise and chagrin of Colo-
nel Pemberton when he heard that his son
had not only cast in his lot with the despised
Methodists, but, worse than all, had gone off
with a wandering Methodist preacher. But
his mother received the tidings with a secret'
and tremulous joy, which was deepened by
the message of filial love which Reginald
found an opportunity to send her, which was
a comfort and a support to her heart in many ,
an hour of weary watching and prayer.
'A
>"
Chapter XV.
THE CAMP-MEETING.
THE Heck Settlement had become an im-
portant center of religious life and ac-
tivity. Here was organized the oldest and
most flourishing of the Methodist societies of
Canada, and here was held the first of Cana-
dian camp-meetings. Further arrivals of refu-
gees — Methodists, Quakers, and Cavaliers;
some of the latter accompanied by their do-
mestic slaves — had increased the population
of the settlement and its vicinity to quite a
numerous community. The Rev. Darius
Dunham, the presiding elder, sent by the
Methodist Episcopal Church of the United
States, made arrangements for the holding of
a camp-meeting in this comparatively popu-
lous neighborhood. The announcement cre-
ated great excitement throughout the whole
country-side. It was a meeting quite un-
known to any of the settlers except a few
from Virginia, where similar meetings had
167
\: y.
i68
BARBARA HBCK,
% »!>
IV
been held, chiefly among the slave popula-
tion. Mammy Dinah and Aunt Chloe were
greatly elated at the prospect of enjoying
what they called **de ole-time religion'* for
which their souls had been pining ever since
they had come to this cold northern land.
The old colonel sniffed and "pshawed;" but
out of regard to what he deemed the preju-
dices of his wife, did not oppose a service
which he admitted might do very well for
slaves.
Upon the Methodists, of course, fell the
chief burden of the preparation. A lovely
grove of stately, clean-trunked beeches and
maples was selected, overlooking the broad
St. Lawrence, and the underbrush was care-
fully cleared away. A rough stand, sheltered
by an awning of beechen boughs, was erected
for the preachers, and rough booths for the
temporary lodging of the worshipers. Great
was the activity in the roomy Heck kitchen,
where Dame Barbara, on hospitable thoughts
intent, presided over the victualing of the
camp as if to stand a siege. In this generous
s
(9
3
H
H
(4
1 1
ras CAMP-maTinG,
t69
M
provisio ; the good Quakers heartily assisted,
and his old-time Virginian hospitality so far
overcame the prejudices of Colonel jPember-
ton as to allow Dinah and Chloe, under the
superintendence of their mistress, to exhaust
their skill in the culinary art in the same
behalf.
The first service was a prayer-meeting of
remarkable spiritual power, held on Saturday
night, as a preparation for the solemnities of
the Sabbath. The Sunday was a high day.
The number present, considering the sparsely-
settled state of the country, was very extraor-
dinary. One would have wondered where all
the people came from. But for thirty or forty
miles up and down the river they came in
bateaux or Durham boats, and not a few In-
dians came in their bark canoes to witness a
service which they could not comprehend, but
of which they felt the strange power.
The interest culminated in the service of
Sunday night Elder Dunham — a tall, dark
man, with hair of raven blackness, so long
that it flowed down upon his shoulders, and
N^
UK
170
BARBARA HECK,
Wt
an eye of strangely magnetic power — preached
a soul-shaking sermon from the text, *^Por
we must all appear before the judgment-seat
of Christ: that every one may receive the
things done in his body, according to that he
hath done, whether it be good or bad.'' With
thrilling tones and vivid imagery, he described
the solemn assize ; the great white throne, and
Him that sat thereon; and the august scenes
of the final judgment, such as in solemn fres-
coes or austere mosaics have frowned down
for centuries from cathedral apse or tribune
on awestruck generations of worshipers. His
rustic audience was an eminently impressible
one. They had no doubts of the awful reality
and strict literalness of the dreadful verities
of the Judgment-day. As knowing the terrors
of the Lord, the preacher endeavored to per-
suade men to flee from the wrath to come,
and to lay hold on eternal life. Sobs and
cries of emotion were heard, as wave after
wave of intense feeling swept over the au-
dience.
None of them had ever heard of Thomas
of Celano's wonderful "Dies Irse, Dies Ilia,''
THS CAMP-MEETING*
I7X
yet every heart responded to its sublime
imagery:
"Day of wrath ! O day of monming!
See fulfilled the prophet's warning-—
Heaven and earth in ashes burning !
O, what fear man's bosom rendeth,
When from heaven the Judge descendeth,
On whose sentence all dependeth 1
Wondrous sound the trumpet flingeth,
Through earth's sepulchers it ringeth,
All before the throne it bringeth.
Death is struck, and nature quaking;
All creation is awaking,
To its Judge an answer making.
King of majesty tremendous,
Who dost free salvation send us —
Fount of pity, then befriend us !
Think, Lord Jesu, my salvation
Caused thy wondrous incarnation ;
Leave me not to reprobation.
Faint and weary, thou hast sought me ;
On the cross of suffering bought me, —
Shall such grace be vainly brought me ?
Guilty, now I pour my moaning.
All my shame with anguish owning;
Spare, O God, thy suppliant groaning!
While the wicked are confounded,
Doomed to flames of woe unbounded,
Call me, with thy saints surrounded.
1/9 BARBARA HECK,
All I that day of tears and monmiagl
Prom the dust of earth returning,
Man for judgment must prepare him;
Spare, O God, in mercy spare him I" *
The scene verged on the sublime. A sea*
of upturned faces were gazing with an awe-
struck fascination on the earnest-souled
preacher, who seemed inspired by the grand-
eur of his theme. Strong, Rembrandt-like
lights and shadows flitted over the congrega-
tion as the fires upon the raised platforms
flared and flickered in the evening breeze^
bringing into strong relief the intense exprer*
*The strange spell of this marvelous hsrmn is but inad-
equately felt in even the best tnmslation. Never was the sono-
rous I«atin tongue more grandly used. Dr. Johnson could
never read it without weeping :
" Dies ine, dies ilia,
Solvet ssclum in favilla,
Teste David cum Sybilla.
Quantus tremor est futurus,
Quando Judex est venturus,
Chmcta stricte discussurus I /
/ Tuba mirum spargens sonum
Per sepulcra regionum
Coget omnes ante thronum.
\
Mors stupebit, et natura,
Quum resurget creatura
Judicanti responsura.
THE
MP-MEBTING.
X73
' I
3ions of hope or fear or anguish written on
many a face. The foliage of the beeches and
maples gleamed like burnished bronze in the
bright light of the fires, blending into a sil-
very white where touched by the rays of the
full moon riding in majesty in the heavens,
and reflected in the broad reaches of the
rushing river. And all around a dense girdle
of darkness seemed to shut them in like a
solid wall.
After the sermon, Dunham invited the
"mourners" to come to the "penitent bench"
Rex tremends majestatis.
Que salvandos salvas gratiS)
Salva me, fons pietatis!
Recordare, Jesu pie,
Quod sum causa tuse vise
Ne me perdas ilia die t
Qtuerens me sedisti lassus,
Redemisti cruce passus :
Tantus labor non sit cassus 1
Ingemisco tanquam reus,
Culpa rubet vultus meus
Supplicanti parce, Deus !
Confutatis maledictis,
Flammis acribus addictis
Voca me cum benedictis.
I^acrymosa dies ilia,
Qua resurget ez favilla
— Judicandus homo reus;
Httic ergo parce Deus 1"
174
BARBARA HBCK,
Ik
it-
'ir'i'
(a rough slab of wood in front of the pulpit),
and Losee and Reginald Pemberton "ex-
horted '* the agitated multitude, while several
of the brethren prayed in turn, or, indeed,
sometimes two or three at once. Amid the
tumult of cries and sobs and prayers, at in-
tervals. Elder Dunham, or some one gifted in
song, would raise a hymn, which soon ab-
sorbed in its resonant cadences all other
sounds. One hymn, suggested by the subject
of the sermon, sung in a minor key to a wail-
ing sort of tune, seemed to shake the hearts
of the entire assembly. It ran thus, with its
sad refrain :
" O, there '11 be mourning, mourning, mourning, mourning,
O, there '11 be mourning
At the judgment-seat of Christ."
Then rang out the grand old hymn,
" Lo ! He comes with clouds descending,"
rising to an exulting paean of triumph and
holy joy:
"Yea, Amen! let all adore thee,
High on thy eternal throne I
Savior, take the power and glory ; ^
Claim the kingdom as thine own I
Jah! Jehovah!
Everlasting God, come down I"
1
THE CAMl^MEETING,
175
I
Uncles Pomp and Jule, Mammy Dinah,
Aunt Chloe, and others of the Virginian slaves,
sat in a group by themselves, and ever and
anon took captive the entire audience by some
weird strain of singular sweetness and pathos,
whicb it seemed to have caught from the
murmuring of the night-winds through the
Southern c3rpress-groves. One of these ran:
"1 11 hear de trumpet sound
Right early in de morning ;
Gwine to ride up in de chariot
Right early in de morning."
Another, which to us seems almost gro-
tesque in its language, though it gave no such
suggestion to its simple hearers, ran thus:
" I 'm a-rolling, I 'm a-rolling, I 'm a-rolling
Through an unfriendly world ;
I 'm a-rolling, I 'm a-rolling
Through an unfriendly world.
O brothers, won't you help me?
O brothers, won't you help me to pray?
O brothers, won't you help me to pray?
Won't you help me in the service of the Lord?"
Of deep personal significance to many of
these poor exiles was the following:
"When I was down in Egypt's land.
Close by the river,
I heard one tell of the Promised Land,
Down by the river side.
12
'^ 1
■^
%
%l
■■■■ I
I: .1
m
176
BAXBAXA HECK,
ij-
ih
CHORUd— We '11 end thia strife,
Down by the s^ver ;
We '11 end this strife,
Down by the river side,
I never shall forget the day,
Down by the river,
When Jesus washed my sins away,
Down by the river side.
Chorus— We '11 end, etc.
Shout, dear children, for you are free,
Down by the river;
Christ has bought your liberty,
Down by the river side.
Chorus— We 11 end, etc."
The words and air of one of the most
beautiful of these Southern songs were as
follows:
l l A^/J-JlJJ J l J.JJrJI l Jj ^
My I«ord calls me, He calls me by the thunder; The
^.P ns -DC.
i i j^ jj.j.j i ^j'rj i jj.^jiij ^
trumpet lounds it in my soul ; I hain't got long to stay here.
fi /9i ^ . /IN
J.. J. J I J. J :^ I .r f > .^1 J ji I
,Ao.— steal away, steal a -way, steal a* way to Je - snsl
l lj^J.JJ I ^^J "^ J l J J J'.JlJJ i
Steal a • way, steal a-way home ; I hain't got long to stay here.
Tf: . ,yy.
TirS CAUfP-MEETING.
177
The favorite of all those weird refrains,
however, with which those Southern exotics
in our Northern clime used to solace their
souls, singing the Lord's song in a strange
land, was one which ran thus:
W ^aJ-J J- | JVJ_g^lJJiJiJ
jJJ|?J
ere.
Swing low; sweet char-1 - ot ; Coming for to car-ry me home.
. Swing low, iweet char-i - ot ; Coming for to car-ry me home.
Elder Dunham had himself lived in the
South, and knew how to make these tender
plantation melodies subserve the interests of
religion, and deepen the impression of the
preaching and the prayers.
The result of the camp-meeting was a con-
siderable accession to the Methodist society,
and also a deepening of the prejudice against
their noisy services on the part of the quiet-
loving Quakers, who at their meetings would
sit silent for an hour, communing with their
own hearts, and then go away greatly edified.
" They judged no man,*' they said, however.
But Colonel Pemberton was less charitable.
m*
'm^
ita^"
178
BAXBAXA HECK,
He strongly denounced the proceedings as a
'* perfect Bedlam," and seemed more than
ever estranged from his son as a ** fanatical
Bedlamite."
Chapter XVI.
A HOPE SPRINGS UP.
THE early Methodist preachers not only
proclaimed their glad evangel in the
woods, in the highway, in barns, and wher-
ever an opportunity occurred, they also vis-
ited diligently from house to house, seeking
by their godly counsel and prayers to deepen
the in.pressions of their public ministry.
The house of Colonel Pemberton was not
overlooked by either William I<osee or Darius
Dunham in these visitations. Although the
gallant colonel bore little love to the Method-
ist itinerants, still his Virginian hospitality
and his instincts as a gentleman m^de him
give them a sort of constrained welcome to
his house.
The Methodist preachers, moreover, felt it
their duty to go, not merely where they
found a cordial reception, but wherever they
had an opportunity to speak a word for their
Master. They had also additional reasons for
179
v."
,1 1
x8o
BAJIBAXA HECK.
visiting the Pemberton mansion, as, from its
size, it was generally called in the neighbor-
hood. Mrs. Pemberton, although not a
Methodist, was a saintly soul of deep relig>>
ious experience, and the visits of these godly
men, and any tidings they could bring of her
wandering boy — exiled from his father's
house — ^was welcome as water to thirsty lips.
Miss Blanche Pemberton, too, the colonel's
only daughter, exerted a powerful attraction
over both of these homeless, wandering men.
To great personal beauty she added a culti-
vated understanding and a character made up
of a strange blending of her father's high spirit
and her mother's gentleness of disposition and
spirituality of mind. Her baptismal name
was certainly a misnomer; for the warm blood
of the South mantled in her dusky cheek,
and its fires slumbered in her deep dark eyes,
making one feel that, notwithstanding the
seeming languor of her manner, there was in
her abundant energy of character if it were
only aroused. She possessed a keenness^ of
conception and a readiness of expression, and
had enjoyed a range of reading uncommon in
A MOPE SPRINGS UP,
i8l
that day, that made her company a rich de-
light to both of these Methodist itinerants.
Neither dreamed at the time of being the
rival of the other in seeking the affections of
the lady, for neither had a home to offer, and
neither thought of asking the delicately-nur-
tured girl to leave her father's comfortable
house and share his wanderings in the wil-
derness.
The exigencies of the itineruncy now sent
I^see to a distant part of the country on the
lower St. Lawrence. Mr. Dunham, during
his periodical returns to the Heck Settlement,
felt the spell of the fair Blanche's attractions,
and as often as duty would permit, sought her
society. The young lady, too, found in his
presence and conversation a pleasure different
from any experienced in the rustic community
of the neighborhood. Elder Dunham, a man of
very superior parts, and of a natural eloquence
of expression, had cultivated his powers by a
considerable amount of reading, and by ex-
tensive travel and intercourse with many
minds of different walks and ranks of life.
Humanity, after all, is the grandest book.
I82
BARBARA HECK,
**The proper study of mankind is man," and
no study will so cultivate one's powers and
increase one's efficiency as a leader and teacher
of his fellow-men.
The habit of introspection and self-exam-
ination of the early Methodists soon revealed
to Elder Dunham the true state of his feel-
ings toward the fair Blanche Pemberton.
Like an honorable man, he at once declared
his sentiments to her parents. Prom her
mother he received, if not encouragement, at
least tacit approval.
**I would never attempt to coerce my
daughter's affections," she said, for she was
not without a vein of tender romance in her
gentle nature. "Her heart is a woman's
kingdom, which she must rule for herself.
Her all of happiness for time, and often for
eternity, is at stake, and she must decide for
herself."
**'Tis all I wish, my dear madam," said
the preacher with effusion; and then with
that proud humility which every true man
feels in comparison with the woman whom he
loves, he went on, ^*I know I am unworthy
A HOPE SPRINGS UP.
183
of her, and have nothing to offer for the
priceless gift of her love but: a heart that will
never fail in its devotion."
**No woman can have more/* said this
wise mother, '*and I desire for her no greater
happiness than the love of a true and loyal
heart."
Prom the father, however, the preacher
met a very different reception.
''What! was it not enough to steal from
me my son, without trying to take my daughter
also? No, sir, I will not give my consent;
and I forbid the girl thinking of such a thing,
or indeed seeing you at all unless you give
your word of honor that you will not broach
such a preposterous idea."
Now, no man likes to have the homage of
his heart treated as a preposterous idea.
Nevertheless, Elder Dunham, with an effort,
restrained his feelings and calmly answered :
*^I can give no such promise, sir; and I
tell you frankly, I shall feel at perfect liberty
to win your daughter's heart and hand if I
can.
»
n
"What! will you beard me to my very
1 84
BARBARA HECK,
face?" exclaimed the choleric old gentleman.
" I '11 keep the girl under lock and key, if nec-
essary, to prevent her linking her fortunes
with a wandering circuit-rider, without house
or home."
" God will provide us both in his own good
time," said the preacher, devoutly; "and con-
sider, sir, you may be frustrating your daugh-
ter's happiness as well as mine."
"Blanche has too much of her father's
spirit," said the old man haughtily, "to de-
grade herself— excuse me, sir — to degrade her-
self to such a lackland marriage."
"Miss Pemberton will never do aught that
will misbecome her father's daughter; of that
you may be sure," said the preacher, with a
hectic spot burning in his cheek ; and, bowing
stiffly, he left the house.
Elder Dunham was not the man to give
up his quest for such a repulse as this, espe-
cially with such an object in view. Never-
theless, he was considerably embarrassed.
His sense of personal dignity and propriety
would not allow him to enter a house in which
such words had been addressed him as
A HOPE SPXINGS UP.
185
those which fell, like molten lead, from the
lips of the angry colonel, on his heart. He
was a man of too high honor to attempt a
clandestine intercourse or even interview.
What should he do? He did not wish to
make Blanche's mother a mediatrix against
her husband's wishes. Yet it was at least
right that Blanche should know definitely his
feelings, of which he had not previously ven-
tured to speak to her. He determined to
write a full, frank letter, avowing his love, re-
counting her father's objections to his suit,
and expressing his confidence that God would
give his smile and blessing to their union in
his own good time.
"I do not ask you for an answer now," the
letter ended. "Wait, reflect, ask guidance
from on high. The way will open if it be
God's will, and I feel sure it is. I will have
patience; I have faith."
This letter he inclosed, unsealed, in a note
to her mother, requesting her to read it and
then hand it to her daughter.
This letter, without opening it, Mrs. Pem-
berton handed^to Blanche, saying: "Daugnter,
i86
BARBARA HECK,
if this be, as I suspect) the offer of a good
man's love, take counsel of God and of your
own heart, and may both guide you aright.*'
In less than an hour Blanche came out of
her little private room with a new light in her
eyes and a nobler bearing in her gait. In'
cedit regina — she walked - a queen, crowned
with the noblest wreath that woman's brow
can wear — the love and homage of a true-
hearted man.
" Mother, I have loved him long," she said,
and she flung herself upon that tender bosom
which all her life long had throbbed only with
truest, fondest mother love.
"God bless you, my darling!'* whispered
the mother through her tears, as she fervently
kissed her daughter's forehead, and pressed
her to her heart.
Few words were spoken; nor was there
need. There is a silence more eloquent than
speech. Their spirits were in full accord,
and never was the sympathy between their
hearts so strong, so full and free as when-t—
her nature deepening well-like, clear — the
daughter sat at her mother's feet, no longer a
A HOPE SPRINGS UP,
J87
light-hearted girl, "in maiden meditation,
fancy free," but a woman dowered with life's
richest gift — the love of a true and loyal
heart. Happy mother! happy child! that
each, in such an hour, enjoys the fullest confi-
dence and sympathy of the other.
*'Well, what answer shall I send?" asked
the mother with a smile.
"Only this," said Blanche, handing her
mother her Bible — a dainty volume bound in
purple velvet, with golden clasps — a birthday
present from her mother in the happy days
before the cruel war. "Only this. He will
understand. We must wait till God shall
open our way."
"Be brave, my child; be patient, be true,
and all will be well.**
Although Elder Dunham had not asked an
answer, and hardly expected one, yet he paced
up and down, in no small perturbation, the
little room in the hospitable home of Paul
and Barbara Heck which they designated
"the prophet's chamber," and which was
set apart for the use of the traveling
preacher. He tried to read, he tried to write.
\-..
r
288
BARBARA HBCK,
but in vain; he could fix His mind on nothing,
and his nervous agitation found relief only in
a hurried and impatient pacing up and down
the floor.
** What is the matter with the preacher to-
day, I wonder?" said Dame Barbara to Good-
man Paul. "He never went on like that
afore."
**He has some'at on his mind, you may
be sure. Perhaps he's making up his sermon.
A rare good one it will be, I doubt not," said
Paul.
"I hope he is not ill, poor man. I noticed
he looked pale when he came in," replied
Dame Barbara.
If she could have seen him a few minutes
later, as he opened the small package brought
him by a messenger from the Pemberton farm,
she would have been relieved of all anxiety as
to his well-being of body or of mind. As he
unfolded the dainty parcel, he observed a leaf
turned and the Bible opened of itself at the
Book of Ruth. A special mark on the mar-
gin called his attention to the sixteenth and
seventeenth verses of the first chapter. Not
w
,• I
A HOPE SPRINGS UP,
X89
a written line, but those pencil marks witH the
initials ** B. P." made him the happiest of men
as he read the touching declaration: "Whither
thou goest, I will go ; and where thou lodgest,
I will lodge: thy people shall be my people,
and thy God my God : where thou diest will I
die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do
so to me, and more also, if aught but death
part thee and me." He raised the sweet
words to his lips, then pressed the book to his
heart, and said with all the solemnity of an
oath : "The I^rd do so to me, and more also,
if I be not worthy of such love."
\ 1
Chapter XVII.
A BIyESSING IN DISGUISE.
THE call of duty summoned the zealous
itinerant to the farthest end of his vast
circuit. But as he rode through the miry
forest trail — marked out by the "blaze" upon
the trunks of the trees — ^he felt no sense of
loneliness ; for a fair presence seemed ever to
brighten his path, and a soft voice seemed ever
to whisper in his ear, "Whither thou goest I
will go ; where thou lodgest, I will lodge." He
cherished the sweet thought in his soul, and
was inspired thereby to loftier faith, and
grander courage, and sublimer patience, and
intenser zeal. And he had need of all. For
weary weeks he received no sign nor token,
no word of communication from the object of
his heart's devotion. When he preached at
"The Settlement," every member of the
squire's household was conspicuously absent
except the faithful blacks, who, though the
slaves of an earthly master, rejoiced in the
190
A BLESSING IN DISGUISE,
Z9I
liberty wherewith Christ makes his own
people free.
"The squire takes on powerful bad about
his son joining the Methodists/' said Good-
man Paul Heck one day. "He kind o' spites
me, too, for lending him the colt. But right
is right; and if it was to do, I'd do it again.*'
"He need not be so bitter," said Dame
Barbara. "He won't even let his wife or
daughter attend the preaching any more.
He minds me of those that shut up the king-
dom of heaven against men, who neither go
in themselves nor suffer them that are enter-
ing to go in. What can he expect for harden-
ing his heart against God, but a judgment
like that which befell Pharaoh?"
And before long an affliption which the
pious Barbara recognized as a "judgment"
did befall the proud colonel, which humbled
his stubborn heart beneath the mighty hand
of God. One day, late in November, he was,
with his hired men, rafting timber down the
river for a bam which he proposed framing
during the winter. By an inadvertence of the
man who was steering, the raft was driven by
13
\>
Z93
BARBARA HECK,
the rapid cttrrent upon a sunken rock and
knocked to pieces. It was near the shore, so
they all got safe to land without much
trouble ; but the immersion in the cold water,
after having been overheated by exercise,
brought on a severe attack of rheumatism
which at length assumed a typhoid type.
The old gentleman was at first very irascible
under the excruciating agonies which racked
his frame. But the patient and loving atten-
tions of his wife and daughter, who minis-
tered like angels beside his couch of pain,
seemed to work a wondrous change in his
nature.
"You make me ashamed of myself, my
patient Griselda,'' he said one day to his wife,
who watched with unwearied love the long
night through beside him. **I am a great,
fretful baby, yet you nurse me as tenderly as
a mother her first-born."
"You are more than a first-born to me,"
she said, laying her hand in a soft caress
upon his brow. He caught her hand and
pressed it to his feverish lips, and she felt a
hot tear of compunction fall upon it.
A BLESSING IN DISGUISE.
193
<<IVe used you shamefully," he said.
"Will you forgive me? And I hope God will
forgive me too. You shall worship him as
you please henceforth."
The faithful soul rejoiced with a great joy,
remembering the words, " For what knowest
thou, O wife! whether thou shalt save thy
husband?" and said softly, "Let us worship
him together, my beloved;" and, kneeling by
his side, she lifted up her heart and voice in
fervent, tremulous prayer to God. Her hus-
band's hand lay like a benediction on her
brow, and their spirits drew closer together
than at any time since her fir&t-born son — ^her
beloved Reginald — had been driven from his
father's house.
The next day, as Blanche sat by her
father's side, he said abruptly: "Blanche,
send for your brother."
"O, father, you are so good, so kind!" she
cried, as she flung her arms around his neck.
"I will send this very day; but it may be a
week before he can come."
"I'm not good, child, nor kind; but, God
helping me, I '11 try to be so," faltered the old
194
BARBARA HSCK,
man as, with feeble hand, he caressed her
brow.
That night a joyful surprise awaited them
all. The early nightfall came dark and
cloudy. The wind moaned through the sur-
rounding forest, and whined like a homeless
hound about the door. The rain fell in pat-
tering gusts against the window-panes. The
fire flashed and flickered and roared up the
chimney throat. A wistful look was in the
dark eyes of the sick man, which seemed all
the darker by contrast with his pallid brow
and snowy hair; and the moan and roar of
the wind over the chimney-top seemed to
trouble his mind. Was he thinking of his
wandering boy, whom he had driven into the
stormy world from the shelter of his father's
house? Suddenly there was a quick yelp, as
of recognition, by the house-dog, and a stamp-
ing of feet in the outer porch. Blanche
sprang to the door and flung it wide open,
and there, with the rain dripping from his
great frieze coat, stood the object of his
father's anxious thoughts, and of his mother's
constant prayers. Flinging aside his coat,
A BLBSSING /Y DISGUISE,
195
after a hurried embrace of his mother and
sister, he threw himself on his knees at his
father's bedside, exclaiming in a voice shaken
by emotion:
** Father, I could n't stay when I heard you
were ill. Take off my sentence of banish-
ment. Let me come back to help nurse you,"
and he gazed eagerly and with a look of in-
tensest affection in his father's face.
'* Welcome, my son, thrice welcome to
your father's house and to your father's heart.
Forgive me, as I trust God has forgiven me.
My cup of joy is full. I am happier, with all
these pains, than I ever was in my life."
And very happy they all were, as the
flames leaped and roared up the wide-throated
chimney as if in sympathetic joy. In the few
months of his absence Reginald seemed to
have changed from a boy to a man. A stamp
of deeper thought was on his face, a deeper
tone was in his voice, a graver air marked his
mien. And as he sat between his mother and
sister in the glancing firelight, he exhibited a
chivalrous tenderness to the one. and a fond
affection for the other that brightened into
196
BARBARA HECK,
manly beauty his weather-bronzed counte-
nance.
"Thank God," said the colonel devoutly,
"for the affliction that makes us once more a
united family! He has dealt with me in
mercy, not in anger, and the chastenings of
his hand are blessings in disguise."
w
Chapter XVIII.
A HOPE FUI^FIIyl^ED.
THE slow convalescence of Colonel Pember-
ton was a time of rich spiritual profit and
of deep domestic joy. More even than his
wife or daughter, he seemed to like to have
his son to wait upon him. And with the ten-
derness of a girl, if without his sister's deft-
ness and grace, Reginald tutored his awkward
hands to administer the medicine and the
tasteful dainties prepared by his mother's
housewifely skill to te ipt the invalid's capri-
cious appetite. And his strong arms could
lift and move the pain-racked frame of the
sufferer as no other could.
It was now within a month of Christmas.
Not a word had been said by any one with
reference to the engagement of Blanche and
Elder Dunham, although it was clearly under-
stood by all. At last, one day, as Reginald
sat by his father's bedside reading to him a
197
198
BARBARA HECK,
sermon of Mr. Wesley's from the Arminian
Magazine^ the colonel abruptly said:
" My son, I wish you would ask Elder Dun-
ham to spend his Christmas here.*'
"Are you sure it would be agreeable to
you both, father?'* asked the young man, who
rather dreaded a collision between two strong
wills like theirs.
" I have reason to believe that it will be
more than agreeable to Mr. Dunham; and I
have changed my views on a good many
things while I have been lying here, so that
it will be agreeable to me. I used him very
unhandsomely the last time he was here, and
I owe him the apology due from one gentle-
man to another for an ofifen^se given."
"You will find he bears no malice, father,"
said Reginald. " I heard him warmly defend-
ing you against the abuse of a low-bred fellow
who bore you a grudge for having, as magis^
trate, sentenced hini, for sheep-stealing, to the
lock-up at Frontenac."
"Did you, indeed? I confess I am a litUe
surprised at thaf^ after the way I treated him."
"I will not see him myself before Christ-
A HOPE FULFILLED,
199
mas, as I must go to the other end of the
circuit, as soon as you are well enough for me
to leave ; but I can send word through Elder
Losee, who preaches here next week.'*
" Do ; and ask Mr. Losee to eat his Christ-
mas dinner with us, too."
"Would you like to entertain your friend
Elder Dunham at Christmas, Blanche?" asked
the colonel, later the same day.
"If I do, father," said the girl, flushing
and then turning pale, "it must be as his be-
trothed. I can not forsake him. I love you
dearly, father, and never more than now," and
she flung her arms about his neck; "but the
Bible tells us to leave father and mother for
husband or wife."
"It tells you right, too. Forgive me,
Blanche ! I have been wrong to come between
your heart and a noble man. It was my love
for you that made me do it. I have learned
that true happiness consists not in houses
and lands, but in contentment and the bless-
ing of God. If any one had told me a year
ago that Colonel Pemberton would give his
daughter to a landless, homeless Methodist
200
BARBARA HECK,
preacher, I would have resented it with scorn.
But I see things diflferently now.'*
" O father, you are so good, so kind I" ex-
claimed the enthusiastic girl, renewing her
caresses of her gray-haired sire. " But I gain
more, far more, than I lose — the priceless love
of a true and honest heart. God will provide
a home and living for us somehow, some-
where, as he does for the birds of the air;
they sow not, neither do they reap nor gather
into bams, yet our Heavenly Father feedeth
them; and are not we more precious than
they?"
"I wish I had your faith, Blanche. But
you shall never want a home, my child, while
your father has a roof above his head. And
I have been an obstacle to your happiness so
long that I will keep you waiting no longer.
If you wish to b^* married at Christmas, you
have mine and your mother's consent; and
God's blessing rest upon you I"
And the old man's voice faltered, and a tear
rolled down his silvery beard as he laid )]is
hands in benediction on her head.
Blanche kissed the tear away, and blushed
A HOPE FULFILLED,
20I
a little, and, with a woman's strange inconsis-
tency, replied:
*'This is rather sudden, father. I do n't
know what Darius" — what a name to fall
soft as a caress from a woman's lips! —
"will say."
"O, trust him!" said the old man, with a
merry twinkle in his eye. " He '11 not object,
I '11 warrant."
Reginald's letter, duly conveyed by Elder
Losee, explained the state of affairs to Mr.
Dunham, and speedily brought that gentle-
man to the Heck Settlement, to reach which
he rode a hundred miles in two days. He
stopped at his usual home — the house of the
hospitable Hecks — to change his mud-bespat-
tered riding-gear, and to don some fresh linen
before presenting himself at the Pemberton
mansion.
"Right welcome, as you always are!" said
Dame Barbara ; " but what brought you so soon?
Sure your appointment is not for two weeks."
"The best business that ever brought any
man," said the elder, enigmatically; but he
vouchsafed no further explanation.
w
303
BARBARA HECK,
'^You'll not venture out the night again,
and it raining, and you so weary with your
long ride?" she rejoined,
**Yes, I must go over to the mansion to-
night," he answered laconically*
"To the mansion — of all places in the
world," said Dame Barbara to Paul, after
he had gone, "when he hasn't been there
for months and months! Whatever can it
mean?"
Upon the sacred privacy of the happy
me(:ting between the betrothed pair we will
not intrude. As Mr. Dunham was brought
into the sick man's room, the colonel began
his apology:
" Forgive me, my dear sir, my unpardonable
rudeness the last time we met"
"Not a word of apology, my good friend,"
said Mr. Dunham, deprecatingly. "We both,
I trust, understand each other better than we
did; and this fair percemaker," he said, look-
ing expressively at Blanche, "has removed, I
trust, the last vestige of misunderstanding be-
tween us."
"Yes," said Blanche, taking her father's
A HOPE FULFILLED,
203
and Mr. Dunham's hands in hers, "we are tjX\
good friends now and forever."
Elder Dunham could only spare a day or
two — even on so joyous an occasion as this —
from his manifold and widespread circuit en-
gagements; but he did not leave without ob-
taining Blanche's consent that the Christmas
festivities should celebrate also their wed-
ding-day.
This pleasant news Mr. Dunham communi-
cated to his good friend Dame Barbara, greatly
to her delight and surprise.
**I suspicioned something was going to
happen," was her very safe remark, "when
you came here post-haste, and would stay for
neither bit nor sup ; but it 's up and away to
the mansion you must go. But I do n't blame
you now, though I confess I did a little then.
Well, sir," she went on, "you 're the only man
I know good enough for Miss Blanche. God's
blessing on you both !"
The approaching event created an im-
mense sensation in the Settlement. It was
the first marriage to take place within the
bounds of Upper Canada, and the little com-
204
BARBARA HECK,
munity felt almost the interest of a single
family in the auspicious occasion. It would
be thought nowadays scant time to prepare
the bridal trousseau^ but fashions were simpler
in those primitive days.
Mrs. Pemberton*s satin wedding-gown,
which had lain undisturbed in its fragrant
cedar-chest for years, was brought out, and
when trimmed by the deft hands of Blanche
with some rare old lace, made a dress of
which even a modern belle might be proud.
Mammy Dinah and Aunt Chloe exhausted
their culinary skill in preparing a banquet
worthy of the occasion. The larder was
crowded with partridge and turkey, with ven-
ison from the woods and noble salmon and
whitefish from the river, and with all manner
of confections and sweet cakes, that quite re-
vived their recollections of the ample hospi-
tality of their old Virginia home. ;
" It snowed within the house of meat and drinlc."
Chapter XIX.
A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A SAD ONE.
T^HERE was only one clergyman in Upper
- Canada who could legally perform the
marriage — the Rev. Dr. Stuart, of the village
of Frontenac, or Kingston) as it had now be-
gun to be called. Of course, the colonel, as
a magistrate, bearing His Majesty's commis-
sion, was empowered to celebrate marriages ;
but being a staunch Churchman, he would
not think of his daughter being married ex-
cept with the fine old service with which he
had wedded her mother a quarter of a century
before. The clergyman arrived the day be-
fore Christmas, with his lawn surplice and
bands and Prayer-book in the portmanteau
strapped on behind his saddle. That night
was devoted by the young folks of the neigh-
borhood to old-fashioned games and merry-
making in the great kitchen — snap-dragon
and corn-popping, and divining with apple
205
-*>
206
BARBARA HECK,
seeds and peelings, and the like rustic amnse"
ments. In default of the English holly and
Virginia laurel, the house was decorated by
the deft fingers and fine taste of Blanche with
the brilliant leaves and crimson berries of the
rowan, or mountain-ash, that grew on a neigh-
boring rocky ridge. Some fine old English
carols were sung to the accompaniment of the
colonePs violin, on which he was an accom-
plished performer — "Good King Wenceslas,"
"God rest you. Merry Gentlemen,'' "As Jo-
seph was a-walking," " I saw three ships come
sailing in," and others, that had come down
from time immemorial, and, translated to the
Virginia plantations, had been sung by the
loyal hearts of the planters as a sort of patri-
otic as well as religious duty.
Blanche's Christmas presents had a double
significance as being also wedding gifts.
Prom her father she received a splendid neck-
lace of pearls that had been fastened by good
Queen Anne on his own mother's neck.
"Her Majesty never thought," he said,
"that they would form part of the weddings
gear of a Methodist preacher's wife in the
A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A SAD ONE, 20/
backwoods of Canada. But I '11 warrant,
Blanche, that none of the «ourt dames of St
James's Palace were worthier to wear them
than my own bonnie lass," and proudly and
fondly he kissed her fair cheek.
From her mother she received a quantity
of old-fashioned silver-ware, bearing the fam-
ily crest — a hart at gaze on a field sown with
lilies, with the pious legend, Qttemadmodum
desiderat cervus ad fontes aqtmrum ("As the
hart panteth after the water brooks").
** Make it your life-motto, my child," said
that noble mother, whose own life exemplified
the duty she enjoined. "So let your soul pant
after the living God!"
But more Blanche prized the gift of her
mother's ivory-bound Prayer-book, which she
gave her with the words :
"Take it, my child. It has been a solace
to me in many a trying hour; so may it be
to you 1"
Mr. Dunham's gift was simple, but to her
worth all the rest — a plain gold wedding-ring.
"It was my mother's," he said; "her last
gift to me before she passed away from time^
308
BARBARA HECK,
I can make no more ^ciored use of it than to
symbolize my love for thee — endless as
eternity."
Reginald gave her a handsomely-bound
copy of Wesley's Hymns.
"It's my liturgy and prayer-book, both
together," he said. "I never cared a straw
for poetry till I read these. They are the
genuine thing."
Dr. Stuart presented, with much effusion,
an exceedingly solid-looking calf-bound book
of something that seemed neither prose nor
poetry.
"Allow me, my dear young lady," he said,
in quite an oratorical manner, "to present you
with a copy of the Songs of the immortal
Ossian, the greatest poet the world has ever
seen. I confess, to me Homer and Virgil,
Shakespeare and Milton, seem tame compared
with the spirit-stirring strains of the bard of
Balclutha. O, fairer than Malvina, be thy
hero brave as Pingal, and more fortunate!
You have, young lady, the only copy of this
grand poem in Upper Canada, or perhaps on
the continent of America; for it was given me
A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A SAD ONE, 309
by my friend, the translator, an auld comrade
at Marischal College, Aberdeen."
Dame Barbara Heck sent some snowy linen
napery, which she had hackled, spun, woven,
and bleached herself after the good old Irish
method, which was in America almost an un-
known art.
Good Hannah Whiteside had come over
the previous evening with an ancient vellum-
bound copy of George Pox's ** Treatise on the
Inner Light."
"Father does not hold with lasts and feasts
and festivals," she said, " nor with the worldly
fashion of making and receiving of marriage-
gifts; but we love thee, and wish thee as well
as those that do. It was borne in upon me
that I should give thee a book that hath been
a great comfort to mine own heart ; may it be
so to thine! Thee knows the Inner Light
thyself; may it shine more and more in thy
soul unto the perfect day!" and she softly
kissed the fair, smooth brow of the girl, who
in turn pressed the silver-haired matron to
her heart
On Christmas-day, Dr. Stuart, dressed in
\ :
3IO
BARBARA HBCK,
gown, bands, and surplice, held a Christmas
service in the great parlor. The colonel, who
wrs able to walk in on crutches, repeated the
responses very firmly, and the sweet voice of
Blanche sang, as if with unwonted signifi-
cance, '* My soul doth magnify the Lord," and
"Glory to God in the highest."
After the service the marriage took place,
according to the seemly and becoming ritual
of the Book of Common Prayer. Then came
a generous banquet, to which, as also to the
service, a goodly number of the neighbors had
been invited. After ample justice had been
done to the savory viands prepared by the
housewifely skill of Mrs. Pemberton and her
sable satellites, worthy Dr. Stuart, with quite
a little oration, drank the bride's health in
some of the colonel's old Madeira, which was
gallantly responded to by Mr. Dunham ; for at
that time the temperance reform had not yet
begun in Canada.
The old colonel was jubilant, Mrs. Pember-
ton by turns tearful and radiant, Mr. Dunham
manly and dignified. Barbara Heck warmly
A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A SAD ONS, 2 T X
embraced the bride, with a hearty "God bless
you, my bairn !" Reginald whispered in the
ear of Katharine Heck, "Ours must be the
next ;" for he had found hib tongue since the
far-off summer days — how far off they
seemed! — when he used to bring his offerings
of flowers and fruits and spotted trout, and
gaze unutterable things, though never a word
he said. He had urged his suit so eloquently
with the fair Katharine that he had won the
confidence of her virgin heart; and her mother
had consented that sometime in the future —
when the uncertain and wandering nature of
his itinerant life would permit — she would
intrust her daughter's happiness to the keep-
ing of the manly youth, who, even though
disinherited, she would have preferred as a
Methodist preacher to the heir of all the Pem-
berton estate without that richest grace of
manhood, a converted heart.
One invited guest, indeed, was absent from
the festive gathering at the Pemberton place.
Elder William Losee, when first invited to
spend his Christmas at the mansion, had cor-
'^■iiyr
312
BARBARA HECK,
dially assented. Shortly after he received
from his fellow-missionary a note, from which
the following is an extract :
"Congratulate me, my dear brother, on my
good fortune. At last Squire Pemberton has
withdrawn his objections to my suit for his
daughter's hand, and Christmas is to be the
happy day of its consummation. You know
the lady well, and know her many virtues, her
graces, and her piety. You will therefore be
able to rejoice with me in the treasure I have
won. I want you to be my best man at the
wedding — a friendly duty which I know you
will discharge with pleasure. And now, as
they say in class-meeting, *when it goes
well with thee, remember me,* till we meet
again.*'
When Losee received this letter it smote
him like a dagger through the heart Every
word was like the wrenching, of the weapon
in the wound. He had himself been deeply
fascinated with the moral and intellectual and
personal attractions of the fair Blanche Pem-
berton; but a morbid sensitiveness on account
of his personal infirmity — a shriveled arm —
A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A SAD ONE, 2 1 3
and his knowledge of the intense antipathy
of the colonel to all Methodists, and especially
Methodist preachers, together with his native
modesty, or rather extreme bashfulness, had
prevented him from ever betraying his feel-
ings either to their prime object or to any
other human being. ** He never told his love,
but let concealment, like a worm i* the bud,
feed on his cheek, and pined in thought."
Unconsciously, therefore, his friend and fel-
low-laborer had probed his wounded spirit to
the quick, and inflicted unutterable pain.
" If it had been mine enemy that had done
this," exclaimed the stricken man, with a
pang of jealousy, '*I could have borne it; but
mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted,
hath betrayed me. O, wicked and deceitful
world, I will never trust man or woman
more!" And he crushed the letter in his
hand, as if he fain would crush its writer too.
Then, in a moment, his better self, his quick-
ened conscience, came to his rescue, and he
groaned, in the anguish of his spirit: ^*God
forgive me I This is the spirit of Cain, who
slew his brother."
\".
214
BAHBAXA HECK.
And going out into the lonely forest,
through whose branches moaned the melan-
choly wind as if In harmony with his own
stormy soul, he threw himself on the ground
and wrestled with his great life-sorrow, and
besought grace to bear like a Christian man
the wreck and ruin of his dearest hopes of
earthly happiness. At length a peaceful calm
stole over his spirit. He rose from his knees
to retrace his steps to the settler's cabin. As
he bared his head, the cool wind of midnight
seemed like a soft hand laid in benediction
on his fevered brow. Retiring to his little
chamber, he summoned courage to answer
Dunham's letter— one of the hardest tasks of
his life.
"My dear brother," it began, "I wish you
every Happiness, and pray God's blessing to
rest on you and yours. I know well the sur-
passing merits of the lady who is to share
with you the joys and sorrows of life. May
the former be many, the latter be few ! Many
thanks for your kind request. Pray allow me
to decline. I do not feel able for it — for rea-
sons known only to God and my own heart
w
jf
A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A SAD ONE, 21 3
And now, in the words of our great poet, let
infi say:
< Commend me to your honorable 'wife;
Say how I loved you ; speak me fair in death.*
And should we meet no more on earth, let us
meet where they neither marry nor are given
in marriage, but are as the angels of God in
heaven."
The letter was signed "Your sincere friend
and well-wisher,'' and a postscript, added in an
agitat^^d hand, intimated that the writer would
have ^« ^ >iion to go East, and might never re-
turn to his present field of labor.
This letter reached Elder Dunham only
the day before Christmas. He was much
shocked and distressed at the evidence of
mental agitation, if not aberration, that it
contained. He showed it to Blanche, saying:
" He evidently loved you, dear heart."
She read it thoughtfully, and then said, as
she wiped away a tear:
"Who would have dreamed it! He never
spoke a word of this."
They both, of course, felt very sorry for the
unhappy man; but this was one of the cases
m
-^l<fr
3l6
SAXBAHA HECK»
■^
in which absolutely nothing can be done.
They both anticipated a painful situation
when they should meet him; but this ordeal
they were spared. They never saw him again.
His mental aberration became so apparent
that he was withdrawn, kindly and quietly, by
Bishop Asbury from the itinerant work.
**It reflects no shame on the man," says
PUyter^ in his " History of Canadian Method-
ism;" '*but thereby he was unable to perform
the duties of his station. Disappointment,
like r. thunderbolt, overset the mental bal-
ance of the first itinerant missionary of Can-
ada. He became entirely unfitted for the
constant and laborious duties of his ministry."
After the balance of his mind was restored,
he left the Province, returned to the United
States, and after a time he engaged in trade
in a small way in New York — "an inglorious
termination," adds Dr. Carroll, in quoting this
passage, "of a heroic career. He does not
wonder," he continues, "that these ardent
and not too much experienced young men
were so smitten with one in youth, who, when
the writer saw her, at the age of sixty, was
A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A SAD OtfB, 2Z7
Still fascinating."* Nevertheless, to both
Elder Dunham and his wife the memory was
always a painful one, the fair Blanche espe-
cially accusing herself of having been the
innocent and unconscious cause of so much
suffering to one for whom she had cherished a
profound respect, though never any more ten-
der feeling.
*Carroir8 "Case, and his Contemporaries," Vo7«I,
page 13.
W,"
Chapter XX.
CI^OSING SCENES.
FEW words more are needed to complete
the story of our humble heroine. After
the unusual excitement caused by the
first marriage celebrated in Upper Canada,
life at the Heck Settlement subsided into
its usual quiet. The fair Blanche Dunham
remained for two years at her old home,
to gladden with her filial attentions her
beloved father, who was now a chronic
invalid. Elder Dunham continued to range
throughout his vast circuit as energetically
as before his marriage. Two years later he
was appointed presiding elder of the '* Can-
ada District.'* But, with the exception of a
short residence in the western part of the
province, his growing household found a
home at the old Pemberton place.
Reginald Pemberton was soon after ap-
pointed to the Bay of Quints Circuit The
consent of Barbara Heck was won by his elo-
2X8
CLOSING SCENES.
319
'M
qtience to parting with her daughter, the fair
Katharine.
"Go, my child," she said; "you will still
be among your kinsfolk; and what is far bet-
ter you will find there spiritual kin. You go
not forth, like your father and mother, to
a strange people and a strange land. But
the Lord has been good, and has showed us
his mercy in the Old World and the New."
Upon the fertile shores of the beautiful
Bay of Quints, a little company of Palatines,
an offshoot from that of the Heck community,
had settled. Here at Hay Bay, Adolphus-
town, a deep inlet from the larger bay, Reg-
inald Pemberton had the distinguished honor
of causing the erection of the first Methodist
meeting-house in Upper Canada. (At the
Heck Settlement, the great parlor of the
Heck house — specially constructed for the
purpose — ^had been used for worship.) The
new chapel was a barn-like wooden structure,
thirty-six feet by thirty, two stories high, with
galleries, which still exists in a tolerable state
of preservation. Upon this Reginald wrought
with his own hands. On the subscription
-i y.
•1
I
?
1
t
aao
BARBARA HECK,
list, which is still extant, may be deciphered
the blurred and fading signatures of a
younger generation of Emburys, Ruckles,
and other godly Palatines, whose memory Js
forever associated with the introduction of
Methodism to this continent and to this Do-
minion. A worthy Methodist missionary, now
in a distant field of the Great Lone Land,
cherishes, as a precious relic of that first
Methodist church in Canada, a staff made
from one of its timbers.
The little communities scattered through
the far-spreading wilderness were cheered by
the visits of that heroic band of missionaries
who traversed the forests, and forded the
streams, and slept oftentimes beneath the
broad canopy of heaven. Here came the
since famous Nathan Bangs, who records
that, when he reached the Niagara River to
enter Canada, there 'were but two log houses
where the great city of Buffalo now stands.
His written life recounts his strange adven-
tures with enraged and drunken Indians and
still more desperate white traders, with back-
slidden Christians in whom he often reawoke
CLOSING SCBNBS,
991
conviction for sin, and with earnest sonls to
whom he broke with gladness the bread of
life. It was a day of unconventional freedom
of manners. If the preacher could obtain no
lodging-place but the village tavern, he would
warn the revelers whom he found there to
repent and flee from the wrath to come.
When in a settler's shanty he preached the
Word of Life, he was subject to the frequent
interruption of some lounger at the door or
window, "How know you that?" or the re-
monstrance from some conscience-stung soul,
"What are you driving at me for?'*
Here, too, came the venerable Bishop
Asbury, then in age and feebleness extreme,
but untiring in his zeal for the cause of God.
"We crossed the St. Lawrence," writes his
companion in travel, "in romantic style. We
hired four Indians to paddle us over. They
lashed three canoes together [they must have
been wooden dugouts], and put our horses in
them — their fore feet in one, their hind feet
in another. We were a long time in Crossing;
it was nearly three miles, and part of the way
wais rough, especially the rapids." As Mr.
\^<
4
■v.m
I* <'S
^1
:1
:.^
4' til
222
BARBARA HECK.
\
A':
I*
i»'
Asbury was leading his horse over a bridge
of poles, its legs slipped between them, and
sank into mud and water. '*Away went the
saddle-bags; the books and clothes were wet,
and the horse was fast. We got a pole under
him to pry him out. The roads through the
woods, over rocks, down gullies, over stumps,
and through the mud, were indescribable.
They were enough to jolt a hale bishop to
death, let alone a poor infirm old man near t
the grave. He was very lame from inflam-
matory rheumatism, but suffered like a
martyr. The heat, too, was intolerable."
Yet the venerable bishop made light of his
afflictions. *'I was weak in body,'' he wrote,
after preaching at the Heck Settlement, **but
was greatly helped in speaking. Here is a
decent, loving people ; my soul is much united
to them." After a twelve miles' ride before
breakfast, he wrote : '* This is one of the finest
countries I have ever seen. The timber is of
noble size; the crops abundant, on a most
fruitful soil. Surely this is a land that God
the Lord hath blessed."
Crossing from Kingston to Sackett's Har-
CLOSING SCMNSS.
2^3
bor in an open boat, they were nearly wrecked.
"The wind was howling/' writes his compan-
ion, **and the storm beating upon us. I fixed
the canvas over the bishop like a tent, to keep
off the wind and rain. Then I lay down on
the bottom of the^boat, on some stones placed
there for ballast, which I covered with some
hay I procured in Kingston for our horses.**
They reached land "sick, sore, lame and
weary, and hungry." Yet the old bishop set
out in a thunder-storm to reach his appoint-
ment. Such was the heroic stuff of which the
pioneer missionaries of Canada were made.
But we must return to the fortunes of the
Heck family, from which we have digressed.
Long before Asbury's visit to Canada, the
pioneer Methodist, Paul Heck, died at his
home at Augusta, in the faith of the gospel,
in his sixty-second year. His mor^ retiring
character shines with a milder radiance be-
side the more fervid zeal of his heroic wife.
But his traditionary virtues were perpetuated
in the pious lives of his children and his
children's children after him.
- For twelve years longer his true and noble
is''
VI
■ %y^
^J :'■'. •;- '••i'S.ii- •V'-''»J?4
234
JSAXSAXA HECK.
wife waited for the summons to join him in
the skies — a "widow indeed," full of faith
and good works. In the old homestead, and
enjoying the filial love and care of her son,
Samuel Heck, she passed the time of her
sojourning in calmness and contentment of
soul. To her children's children at her
knee — a younger Katharine and Reginald
Pemberton, a younger Paul and Barbara
Heck, and to a younger Blanche and Darius.
Dunham — she read from her great German
Bible the promises that had sustained her
life, and never wearied of telling them the
wondrous story of God^s providence to her
and her kinsfolk who had passed on before —
how he had brought them across the sea
and kept them amid the perils of the city
and the wilderness, and given them a goodly
heritage in this fair and fertile land. But
chiefly she loved, as she sat in her high-backed
arm-chair in the cheerful ingle-nook of the
broad fireplace, to converse on the deep
things of God with the itinerant Methodist
missionaries who found beneath the hospi-
table roof a home in their wanderings, and to
I'
CLOSING SCENES.
225
learn of the wondrous growth throughout all
the frontier settlements of that system of
Methodism of which she had providentially
been the foundress in the two great countries
which divide between them this North Amer-
ican Continent.
At length, like the sun calmly sinking
amid glories which seem like those of para-
dise, to his rest, so passed away this saint of
God and true mother in Israel. She died at
the residence of her son, Samuel Heck, in
the year 1804, having completed the full tale
of threescore years and ten. "Her death,"
writes Dr. Abel Stevens, in his noble eulogy
upon her character, "was befitting her life.
Her old German Bible, the guide of her youth
in Ireland, her resource during the falling
away of her people in New York, her insep-
arable companion in all her wanderings in the
wildernesses of Northern New York and Can-
ada, was her oracle and comfort to the last.
' She was found sitting in her chair dead, with
the well-used and endeared volume open on
her lap. And thus passed away this devoted,
obscure, and unpretentious woman, who so
226
BARBARA HECK,
%/
faithfully, yet unconsciously, laid the founda-
tions of one of the grandest ecclesiastical
structures of modern ages, and whose name
shall shine with ever-increasing brightness
as long as the sun and moon endure."*
Many of the descendants of the Embury
and Heck families occupy prominent posi-
tions in our Church in Canada and the United
States and many more died happy in the
Lord. Philip Embury*s great-great-grandson, \ ,
John Torrance, Jr., Esq., has long filled the
honorable position of treasurer and trustee
steward of three of the large Methodist
churches of Montreal.
The Rev. Dr. Carroll writes of a grandson
of Paul and Barbara Heck: "He was a proba-
tioner in the Wesleyan ministry when he was
called to his reward. He was eminently
pious, a clear-headed theologian, and a
preacher of promise. His father, Samuel
Heck, was an eminent local preacher for more
than forty years, and by his consistency
earned the meed of universal respect, and
♦ Barbara Heck's Bible is now in the library of Vic-
toria University, Toronto.
m,<;'^^'r
I '• 'hi
CLOSING SCENES,
337
from none more than from his immediate
neighbors, to whom he preached nearly every
second Sabbath during that whole period.
"Jacob Heck, his brother," continues the
writer, "was one of the best read men we
ever had the happiness to converse with, and
one whose conversation was as lively and
playful as it was instructive. We never saw
a finer old man. We can imagine we can
now see his venerable white head, stooping
form, and sparkling dark eyes, and also hear
his ringing, hearty laugh. He showed his
amiability by his fondness for little children,
who were equally fond of him. The ten
surviving grandchildren of Paul and Barbara
Heck are pious, and many of their great-
grandchildren also."
On the banks of the majestic St. Lawrence,
about midway between the thriving town of
Prescott and the picturesque village of Mait-
land, lies a lonely graveyard, which is one of
the most hallowed spots in the broad area of
our country. Here, on gently rising ground
overlooking the rushing river, is the quiet
^* God's acre" in which slumbers the dust 6f
228
BARBARA HECK,
s>4i
that saintly woman who is honored in two
hemispheres as the mother of Methodism on
this continent. This spot, known as the
"Old Blue Churchyard," takes its name
from an ancient chur b v^hich once wore a
coat of blue paint. The forest-trees which
covered this now sacred scene were cleared
away by the hands which have long since
ceased from their labor and been laid to
rest in the quiet of these peaceful graves. \
Thither devout men, amid the tiears of weep-
ing neighbors and friends, bore the remains
of Paul Heck and of Barbara his wife. Here,
too, slumbers the dust of the once beautiful
Catharine Switzer, who, in her early youth,
gave her heart to God and her hand to Philip
Embury, and for love's sweet sake braved
the perils of the stormy deep and the priva-
tions of pioneer life in the New World. Here
deep also, till the resurrection trump awake
them, the bodies of several of the early Pala-
tine Methodists and of many of their descend-
ants, who, by their patient toil, their earnest
faith, their fervent zeal, have helped to make
our country what it is to-day.
00
U
i-l
CLOSING SCENES,
229
w
On a bright day in October I made a
pilgrimage to this place, which is invested
with so many tender memories. The old
wooden church, very small and very quaint,
fronts the passing highway. It has seats but
for forty-eight persons, and is still used on
funeral occasions. Its tiny tinned spire gleams
brightly in the sunlight, and its walls have
been weathered by many a winter storm to a
dusky gray. Around it, on every side, "heaves
the turf in many a moldering heap;" for
during well-nigh one hundred years it has
been the burying-place of the surrounding
community. A group of venerable pines keep
guard over the silent sleepers in their narrow
beds. But one grave beyond all others ar-
rests our attention. At its head is a plain
white-marble slab on a gray-stone base. On
a shield-shaped panel is the following in-
scription :
IN MEMORY OP
PAUI^ HECK,
BORN 1730. DIBD 1793.
BARBARA,
WIPE OP PAUI« HECK,
BORN 1734. DIED AUG. 17, 1804.
230
BARBARA HECK,
I'..
And this is all. Sublime in its simplicity;
no labored epitaph; no fulsome eulogy, — ^her
real monument is the Methodism of the New
World.
Near by are the graves of seventeen other
members of the Heck family. Among them
is that of a son of Paul and Barbara. Heck,
an ordained local preacher, whose tombstone
bears the following inscription: **Rev. Samuel
Heck, who laboured in his Master's vineyard
for upwards of thirty-eight years. Departed
this life in the triumphs of faith on the i8th
of August, 1844, aged seventy-one years and
twenty-one days." Another Samuel Heck,
son of the above-named, a Wesleyan minister,
died in 1846, aged, as is recorded with loving
minuteness, '* thirty years, seven months, fif-
teen days." To tbe members of this godly
family the promised blessing of the righteous,
even length of days, was strikingly vouch-
safed. On six graves, lying side by side, |
noted the following ages: 73, 78, 78, 53, 75,
59. On others I noted the following ages:
63> 62> 7O) 70. I observed, also, the grave of
a little Barbara Heck, aged three years and
pf.-
S\
CLOSING SCENES.
331
six months. The latest dated grave is that
of Catharine Heck, a granddaughter of Paul
and Barbara Heck, who died 1880, aged sev-
enty-eight years. She was described as a
saintly soul, handsome in person, lovely in
character, well educated, and refined. She
bequeathed at her death a generous legacy to
the Missionary Society of the Methodist
Church of Canada. Near the grave of Bar-
bara Heck is that of her life-long companion
and friend, the beautiful Catharine Switzer,
who married, at the age of sixteen, Philip
Embury. Here also is the grave of John
I^awreuce, a pious Methodist, who left Ireland
with Embury, and afterwards married his
widow.
After visiting these honored graves, I had
the pleasure of dining with three grandchil-
dren of Paul and Barbara Heck. The eldest
of these, Jacob Heck, a vigorous old man of
over eighty, was baptized by Losee, the first
Methodist missionary in Canada. A kind-
souled and intelligent granddaughter of Bar-
bara Heck evidently appreciated the honors
paid her sainted ancestry. She brought out
V. ^3
93a
BARBARA IIBCfC,
a large tin box, containiag many interesting
souvenirs of her grandparents. Among these
were a silver spoon, with the monogram
p. B. .
H.;
stout leather-bound volumes of Wesley's Ser-
mons, dated 1770; Wesley^s Journal, dated
1743; General Haldimand's ** discharge" of
Paul Heck from the volunteer troops, etc.
But of special interest was the old German
black-letter Bible, bearing the following clear-
written inscription: ^^Paul Heck, sein buch,
ihm gegeben darin zu lernen die Neiderreiche
sprache. Amen." The printed music of the
psalter at the end of the book was like that
described by Longfellow in Priscilla's psalm-
book:
" Rough-hewn angular notes, like stones in the wall of a
churchyard,
Darkened and overhung by the running vine of the
verses.
>>
This, it is almost certain, is the very Bible
which Barbara Heck held in her hands when
she died.
Just opposite the elegant home of Mr.
,y»,Ji
CLOSING ^BNBS,
933
George Heck, vhose hospitalities I enjoyed,
is the old Heck house, a large old-fashioned
structure dating from near the beginning of
the century. It is built in the qtiaint Nor-
man style common in French Canada, and is
flanked by a stately avenue of venerable Lorn-
bardy poplars. Its massive walls, three feet
thick, are like those of a fortress, and the
deep casements of the window are like its
embrasures. The huge stone-flagged kitchen
fireplace is as large as half a dozen in these
degenerate days, and at one side is an open-
ing into en oven of generous dimensions,
which makes a swelling apse on the outside
of the wall. In the grand old parlor the
paneling of the huge and stately mantelpiece
is in the elaborate style of the last century.
From the windows a magnificent view of the
noble St Lawrence and of the American shore
meets the sight, as it must, with little change,
have met that of Barbara Heck one hundred
years ago.
Is not the memory of this sainted woman
a hallowed link between the kindred Method-
isms of the United States and Canada, of
934
BARBARA HBCK,
both of wHich she was, under the blessing
of God, the foundress? Her sepulcher is with
us to this day, but almost on the border line,
as if, in death' as in life, she belonged to each
country.
As I knelt in family prayer with the de-
scendants of this godly woman, with the old
German Bible which had nourished her ear-
nest piety in my hands, I felt myself brought
nearer the springs of Methodism on the con-~
tinent; and as I made a night railway journey
to my distant home, the following reflections
shaped themselves into verse:
AT BARBARA HBCE'S GRAVH.
I ttood beside the lowly grave where sleep
The ashes of Dame Barbara Heck, whose hand
Planted the vital seed wherefrom this land
Hath ripened far and wide, from steep to deep,
The golden harvest which the angels reap,
And gamer home the sheaves to heaven's strand.
Prom out this lowly grave there doth expand
A sacred vision, and we dare not weep.
Millions of hearts throughout the continent
Arise and call thee blessed of the Lord —
His handmaiden on holiest mission sent,
To teach, with holy life, his Holy Word.
O rain of God, descend in showers of grace-
Refresh, with dews divine, each thirsty placet
CLOSING SCSNBS,
«35
BARBARA HBCBl'S OBRlfAN BIBL8.
I held within my hand the time-worn Book
Wherein the brave-touled woman oft had read
The oraclet divine, and inly fed
Her soul with thoughts of God, and took
Deep draughta of heavenly wisdom, and forsook
All lesser learning for what God had said;
And by his gniding hand was gently led
Into the land of rest for which we look.
Within her hand she held this Book when came
The sudden call to join the white-robed throng.
Her name shall live on earth in endless fame,
Her high-souled faith be theme of endless song.
O Book divine, that fed that lofty faith,
Bnbrave, like hers, our souls in hour of death!
The Methodists of the United States wor-
thily honored the memory of Barbara Heck,
on the occasion of the centennial anniversary
of the planting of Methodism in that land,
by the erection of a memorial building in
connection with the Garrett Biblical Institute
at Evanston, Illinois — founded through the
munificence of a Methodist lady — to be known
for ever as Heck Haix,. Thus do two de-
vout women--one the heir of lowly toil, the
other the daughter of luxury and wealth — join
hands across the century; and their names
and virtues are commemorated, not by a costly
',>'■■ ''-:..^^r,>T:
236
BARBARA HECK,
I I
but useless pillared monument^ but by a
"home for the sons if the prophets, the
Philip Emburys of the coming century, while
pursuing their sacred studies." ^
"Barbara Heck,*' writes Dr. (now Bishop)
C. H. Fowler, in commemorating this event,
"put her brave soul against the rugged pos-
sibilities of the future, and throbbed into ex-
istence American Methodism. The leaven of
her grace has leavened a continent. The seed
of her piety has grown into a tree so immense
that a whole flock of commonwealths come
and lodge in the branches thereof, and its
mellow fruits drop into a million homes. To
have planted American Methodism; to have
watered it with holy tears; to have watched
and nourished it with the tender, sleepless
love of a mother and the pious devotion of a
saint; to have called out the first minister,
convened the first congregation, met the first
class, and planned the first Methodist church
edifice, and to have secured its completion, —
is to have merited a monument as enduring
as American institutions, and, in the order of
Providence, it has received a monument which
CLOSING SCENES.
237
the years can not crumble, as enduring as the
Church of God. The life-work of Barbara
Heck finds its counterpart in the living ener-
gies of the Church she founded."
As we contemplate the lowly life of this
true mother in Israel, and the marvelous re-
sults of which she was providentially the in-
itiating cause, we can not help exclaiming, in
devout wonder and thanksgiving, " What hath
God wrought!" In the United States and
Canada there is at this moment, as the out-
growth of the seed sown in weakness over a
century ago, a great Church organization, like
a vast banyan-tree, overspreading the conti-
nent, beneath whose broad canopy nearly
twenty millions of souls, as members or ad-
herents, or about one-fourth the entire popu-
lation, enroll themselves by the name of
Methodists. The solitary testimony of Philip
Embury has been succeeded by that of a great
army of fifteen thousand local preachers, and
nearly as many ordained ministers. Over two
hundred Methodist colleges and academies
unite in hallowed wedlock the principles of
sound learning and vital godliness. Nearly
y -
438
BARBARA HEOt,
\Y
I?:
W
fit
:.:.
half a hundred newspapers, magazines, and
other periodicals, together with a whole li-
brary of books of Methodist authorship, scat-
ter broadcast throughout the land the relig-
ious teachings of which those lowly Palatines
were the first representatives in the New
World.
In these marvelous achievements we find
grouted, not for vaunting and vainglory, but
for devout humility and thankfulness to God.
To all who bear ^'^e name of Methodist come
with peculiar appropriateness the words of
Holy Writ: "Ye see your calling, brethren,
how that not many wise men after the flesh,
not many mighty, not many noble are called :
but God hath chosen the foolish things of this
world to confound the things which are
mighty; and base things of the world, and
things which are despised, hath God chosen,
yea, and things which are not, to bring to
naught things that are: that no flesh should
glory in his presence. . . . He that glo-
rieth, let him glory in the Lord." ^^