THE METLAKATLAH MISSION.
On occasional trips the steamer anchors off Metlakatlah, the model
mission-station of the northwest coast, and an Arcadian village of
civilized Indians, built round a bay on the Chimsyan Peninsula, in
British Columbia. Metlakatlah is just below the Alaska boundary line,
and but a little way south of Fort Simpson, the chief Hudson Bay Company
trading post of the region, where the great canoe market, and the feasts
and dances of the Indians, enliven that centre of trade each fall.
It was a rainy morning when the _Idaho_ anchored off Metlakatlah, and
the small boats took us through the drizzle and across a gentle
ground-swell to the landing wharf at the missionary village. We were met
there by Mr. Duncan, one of the noblest men that ever entered the
mission field. He left mercantile life to take up this work, and was
sent out by the English Church Missionary Society in 1857. He spent the
first four years in working among the Indians at Fort Simpson, but the
evils and temptations surrounding such a place quite offset his efforts,
and he decided to go off by himself and gather the Indians about him at
some place where they would be safe from other influences. Fifty
Chimsyans started with him to found the village of Metlakatlah, and, in
the twenty-odd years, they have built up a model town that they have
reason to be proud of. When they first went there, a strip of the land
was marked off for church purposes, and the rest of it divided among the
Indians. It was considered a doubtful experiment at first, but Mr.
Duncan put his whole heart and soul into the enterprise, and every
Indian who went with him signed a temperance pledge, agreed to give up
their medicine-men as advisers in sickness, and to do no work on the
Sabbath. His faith has been proven in the results attained, and the
self-respecting, self-supporting community at Metlakatlah proves that
the Indian can be civilized as well as educated in one generation, if
the right man and the right means are employed.
At the end of twenty-three years there is a well-laid-out village, with
two-story houses, sidewalks, and street lamps. A large Gothic church has
been built, with a comfortable rectory adjoining, and around the village
green a school-house, a public hall, and a store are prominent
buildings. All of these structures have been built by the Indians, and,
with their own saw-mill and planing-mill, they have turned out the
lumber and woodwork required for the public buildings and their own
houses. Mr. Duncan has taught them all these necessary arts, working
with them himself, and dividing the profits of their labors among the
Indians. Under his management the Indians have established their cannery
and store as a joint-stock company, and these once savage islanders
understand the scheme, and draw their dividends as gravely as if their
ancestors had always done so before them. The cannery is a model of
neatness, the salmon being headed and cleaned on an anchored boat far
off shore, and brought to the cannery all ready to be cut and fitted
into tins. Everything is done by the Indians themselves, from making the
cans to filling, soldering, heating, varnishing, labeling, and packing,
and the Metlakatlah salmon bring the highest price in the London market,
and each year handsome dividends are paid to the islanders. An average
of six thousand cases are shipped every year, and each visitor that
morning bought a can of the Skeena River salmon to carry off as a
souvenir of Metlakatlah.
The women have been taught to spin and weave the fleece of the mountain
goat into heavy cloths, shawls, and blankets. Boots, shoes, ropes, and
leather are also made at Metlakatlah, and there is a good carpenter shop
in the town. A telephone connects the village store with the saw-mill a
few miles distant, and the Indians ring up the men at the other end of
the wire, and “hello” to their brother Chimsyans in the most
matter-of-fact manner. The steam-launch belonging to the cannery is
engineered by one of their number, and the village compares favorably
with any of the small saw-mill settlements of whites on Puget Sound.
While we wandered about the village under the escort of Mr. Duncan and
his faithful David, the members of the brass band gathered themselves
together and played “Marching Through Georgia,” “Yankee Doodle,” and
other of our national anthems in honor of the American visitors. Twenty
stalwart Indians comprise the full band, and, although nearly half of
the musicians were off salmon fishing, those left did some most
excellent playing on horn, cornet, and trombone, and sent farewell
strains over the water as we got into the small boats and were pulled
away to the ship. The Indians keep a visitors’ house at the landing for
the entertainment of friends in the adjoining tribes, and on the night
preceding our arrival there had been a grand banquet and ball in honor
of some canoe-loads of Haidas, who had come to pass a few days at these
guest-houses of Metlakatlah. We found the Haidas looking much
dilapidated on the morning after the ball, and among the picturesque
groups sitting about the great square fireplace there was the most
beautiful Indian maiden seen on the coast. The Haida beauty had a warm,
yellow skin, with a damask bloom on her cheeks, a pair of large, soft,
black eyes, and dazzling teeth. She gave a shy smile, and dropped her
eyes before the admiring gaze and the exclamations of the party, and the
susceptible young men from the ship immediately offered to stop off and
stay with Mr. Duncan for a while. The Haidas had many curious things
with them, and evinced a proper desire to make trade. One woman wore a
pair of wide, gold bracelets, engraved with the totemic eagle and the
Haida crest, and, putting her price at eighty dollars, sat stoical and
silent through all the offers of smaller sums. They had fine silver
bracelets, horn spoons, and carved trifles of copper and wood with them,
but the desirable things were some miniature _totem_ poles carved out of
black slate stone, and inlaid with pieces of abalone shell to represent
green and glistening eyes for each heraldic monster. These little
_totem_ poles are made of a soft slate found near Skidegate on the Queen
Charlotte Islands. When first quarried it is very soft and easily
worked, but hardens in a short time, and will crack if exposed to the
sun or heat. It takes a fine polish, and for the small slate columns,
fourteen and eighteen inches high, the Indians asked seven and ten
dollars. We afterwards saw dozens and scores of these slate _totems_ at
the curio stores in Victoria, and though there seemed to be a sufficient
supply of them for all the tourists of a season, the prices ranged from
twenty to eighty dollars, and for plaques and boxes of carved slate the
demand was proportionately higher.
It was with real regret that we parted with Mr. Duncan at the wharf, and
it was not until we were well over the water that we learned of the
serpent or the skeleton in this paradise. Though Metlakatlah might
rightly be considered Mr. Duncan’s own particular domain, and the
Indians have proved their appreciation of his unselfish labors by a love
and devotion rare in such races, his plainest rights have been invaded
and trouble brewed among his people. Two years ago a bishop was
appointed for the diocese, which includes Fort Simpson, Metlakatlah, and
a few other missions. Fort Simpson is the older and larger mission
settlement, and the higher officers of the church have always resided
there, but Bishop Ridley, disapproving of Mr. Duncan’s Low Church
principles, went to Metlakatlah and took possession as a superior
officer. Mr. Duncan moved from the rectory, and the bishop took charge
of the church services. In countless ways a spirit of antagonism was
raised that almost threatened a war at one time. The bishop informed the
Indians that their store and warehouse was situated on ground belonging
to the church. Instead of compromising, or leaving it there under his
jurisdiction, the matter-of-fact Metlakatlans went in a body, pulled
down the building, and set it up outside the prescribed limits. In
endeavoring to prevent this, the bishop was roughly handled, and as he
appreciated the hostile spirit of the greatest part of the community he
sent to Victoria, asking the protection of a British man-of-war. The
whole stay of the bishop has been marked by trouble and turbulence, and
these scandalous disturbances in a Christian community cannot fail to
have an influence for evil, and undo some of the good work that has been
done there. Mr. Duncan made no reference to his troubles during the
morning that we spent at Metlakatlah, and his desire that we should see
and know what his followers were capable of, and understand what they
had accomplished for themselves, gave us to infer that everything was
peace and happiness in the colony. One hears nothing but praise of Mr.
Duncan up and down the coast, and can understand the strong partisanship
he inspires among even the roughest people. His face alone is a passport
for piety, goodness, and benevolence anywhere, and his honest blue eyes,
his kindly smile, and cheery manner go straight to the heart of the most
savage Indian. His dusky parishioners worship him, as he well deserves,
and in his twenty-seven years among them they have only the unbroken
record of his kindness, his devotion, his unselfish and honorable
treatment of them. He found them drunken savages, and he has made them
civilized men and Christians. He has taught them trades, and there has
seemed to be no limit to this extraordinary man’s abilities. When his
hair had whitened in this noble, unselfish work, and the fruits of his
labor had become apparent, nothing could have been more cruel and unjust
than to undo his work, scatter dissension among his people, and make
Metlakatlah a reproach instead of an honor to the society which has
sanctioned such a wrong. An actual crime has been committed in the name
of Religion, by this persistent attempt to destroy the peace and
prosperity of Metlakatlah and drive away the man who founded and made
that village what it was. British Columbia is long and broad, and there
are a hundred places where others can begin as Mr. Duncan began, and
where the bishop can do good by his presence. If it was Low Church
doctrines that made the Metlakatlah people what they were a few years
since, all other teachings should be given up at mission stations.
Discord, enmity, and sorrow have succeeded the introduction of ritualism
at Metlakatlah, and though it cannot fairly be said to be the inevitable
result of such teachings, it would afford an interesting comparison if
the Ritualists would go off by themselves and establish a second
Metlakatlah as a test.
A later expression of opinion on the troubles of Metlakatlah appears in
the last annual report (1884) to the Dominion Government, by Colonel
Powell, Superintendent of Indians in British Columbia. He writes as
follows:—
“I am exceedingly sorry to state that serious trouble and the most
unhappy religious rancor still exists at Metlakatlah, dividing the
Indians, and causing infinite damage to Christianity in adjacent
localities, where sides are taken with one or other of the contending
parties. The retirement of either or both would seem the only true
solution of the difficulties, and if the latter alternative is not
desirable, and as fully nine tenths of the people are unanimous and
determined in their support of Mr. Duncan, the withdrawal of the agents
of the society to more congenial headquarters would, I think, be greatly
in the interests of all concerned. Since the schism has occurred, the
larger following of Mr. Duncan have resolved themselves into an
independent society, with that gentleman as their guide and leader. The
forms of the Anglican Church have been discarded, and they have
designated themselves ‘The Christian Church of Metlakatlah,’ each member
of which subscribes to a declaration pledging themselves to exclusively
follow the teachings of the Bible as the rule of faith, and that they
will, to the utmost of their power, prevent any divisions among the
villagers, and do their utmost to promote the spiritual and temporal
prosperity of the community. This association includes all the young and
active residents of the village, hence they are all enthusiastic and
determined in their desire for success. In addition to the large store,
which, I was told, belonged to the Indians, and was a co-operative
arrangement, Mr. Duncan has devoted his spare energies to the
establishment of a salmon cannery, which, he informed me, was placed
upon the same footing. This has afforded employment for a great majority
of the inhabitants, and has kept them so busy for the last few months
that happily they have had no time to give to contention. The secret of
Mr. Duncan’s great popularity with the Indians at Metlakatlah is his
desire and fondness for inaugurating industries, which, after all, is
the strongest bond that can be made to unite these people. The present
difficulties, however, at Metlakatlah cannot continue much longer
without culminating in serious consequences, means to avert which, of
whatever nature they may be, should be promptly and effectually
enforced.”