Memoir of Elizabeth Jones a little Indian girl who lived at the River-Credit Mission Upper Canada/Chapter 2
CHAPTER II.
DESCRIPTION OF ELIZABETH'S BIRTH-PLACE AND
EARLY CHILDHOOD.
"The din of cities she had never known:
Her feet had never trod the gay parade;
But she had felt a joy, when all alone
She sought the river's bank, the forest's shade."
The native village of dear Elizabeth is beautifully situated about sixteen miles from Toronto, the seat of government in Upper Canada. The road from thence to this peaceful Indian settlement opens to the eye of the traveller a diversified scene of land and water, hill and dale, the cultivated farm, and the native forest.
On the left spread the expansive waters of the lake Ontario, now bearing on its magnificent bosom the stately steam-boat, on which formerly the birch-bark canoe of the hardy Indian was only seen to glide. To the right interminable woods form a fine back-ground to a country partially cultivated and settled.
From the undulations of the road the distant prospect is sometimes entirely obscured, and the tall dark pines throw around their deep shadows, giving a sense of loneliness and a tone of pensive feeling. Glimpses are caught and lost at intervals of the beautiful lake, when suddenly it opens before you in unobscured loveliness, which may be enjoyed for some distance as you journey along its wooded banks. Within the distance of a few miles you cross over the rivers Humber, Mimico, and Etobecoke, till you reach the long bridge thrown over the river Credit; then turning to the right, the lake stretching in the distance behind, you are conducted through park-like scenery to the peaceful spot where God has been pleased to plant a small Christian church, gathered from the wilderness, to show forth his praise.
This little village possesses many local advantages. It is situated on the high and healthy banks of a fine river, whose beautiful flowing waters, well supplied with fish, wind their undisturbed way through scenery of grand and romantic loveliness, which at once elevate the mind, and fascinate the imagination, of those who have a keen relish for nature's beauties. This village consists of about forty houses; some of these are called log, others frame; each surrounded by half an acre of land, in which the Indians plant every year either potatoes, peas, or Indian corn. In the centre stands, on one side the chapel and school-house, on the other the Mission-house; near which is reserved a lovely spot just on the brow of a sloping bank, sacred to the memory of the dead. In this hallowed enclosure lie slumbering, till the morning of the resurrection, many little known on earth, but whose names are doubtless registered in heaven. With those of a host of tender lambs, is now numbered that of Elizabeth Jones, the last of five lovely children, all taken in early life, from a world of sin and suffering to their heavenly Father's better home; where, clothed in white, with palms of victory in their hands, they are uniting with their sainted mother in singing, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing."
Elizabeth Jones, whose Indian name was Sahgahjewaqua, which means "the rising sun," was born on June 29th, 1830. From infancy she evinced a mild temper; and as her young mind gradually expanded, it was delightful to observe a fine generous disposition united to strong affection, which secured the confidence and love of all who knew her. For some time after her mother's death, I was in the habit of seeing her every day. She would frequently ask when her mother would come home from the meeting. Being ignorant of what death meant, she thought, as this was the place she most frequented, that she was gone there; and sometimes it was no easy task to wipe the tear, and quell the sorrows of her little bosom, by telling her that her dear mother was gone to live with God in heaven. Her affection for her only remaining parent was most beautiful: she clung to him, as a child always should to a tender father, with the most confiding love. I could often fancy as she sat on his knee that she held him tight as if afraid he would leave her too. Whenever he appeared dull, she would kiss him, and show him some of her playthings, thinking thus to dissipate the sorrows of his heart. Dear children, I wish all who read this little book would try and imitate Elizabeth Jones, and by their affectionate attentions to their parents, show how much they love them.
Although from the time I first knew this dear child, I had seen much in her to love and admire, it was not till she became a resident in our family, in October, 1836, that I discovered those peculiar traits in her character which made her so especially dear to our hearts. Never shall we forget her readiness to do any kind action. Her tender manner when we were not quite well was remarkable. She would move gently about the room, and perform all the little offices of a nurse as far as she was capable. Often would she say, "Aunt, when I am a woman, I will make tea for you, and help you a great deal." Although so young, she was very observing, and took great pleasure in watching how things were done. She was a child of great resolution and natural courage. For instance, in taking medicine, it was only necessary to say, "Now, dear, it is proper for you to take this;" or, Such a thing "must be done;" and there was seldom any further trouble. I never saw a child more devoid of selfish feeling; a propensity so common to most young people. When playing with others, she was ever ready to give them the best of every thing, and always seemed more happy in pleasing her little companions than in gratifying herself. Often when the poor old women came in, she would ask them if they were hungry; and then run and tell me, saying, "Shall I give them some food?" At other times she would beg for halfpence; and when asked what she wanted them for, would say, "I want to give them to an old woman," mentioning her name, "because I think she is poor." This lovely principle of generosity was carried out in her daily practice, so much so as at times to require a little check. Her heart was large, and she wanted all to share the comforts she enjoyed. She was also very kind and grateful to servants: they loved her, and were glad to do any thing for her; because she always spoke in a proper manner, and never gave them unnecessary trouble. She had a "place for every thing, and kept every thing in its place." By this means she preserved her little gifts, which were highly prized. Not like many children, who are never at rest till they have destroyed them, Elizabeth took great delight in keeping them neat and clean: and if children knew how much of their happiness and comfort depended on habits of order, they would be more particular in cultivating these good qualities.
When I first took the entire charge of Elizabeth, she could only spell words of three letters; but such was her natural quickness, and laudable ambition for improvement, that in a few weeks she could read several little stories. Having a good ear and retentive memory, she soon spelt words of three syllables, learned Watts's First Catechism, and many of his beautiful hymns for children, with a number of others that were commonly sung at the chapel. She took great delight in hearing Bible stories, and often asked me to tell her about good children: their example had a most desirable influence over her. When reading, she would seldom pass over a word that she did not understand without asking its meaning; and in this interesting way she was continually adding to her little store of knowledge: and it was encouraging to find that what was told her was not soon forgotten. On the contrary, she would often draw comparisons, and say, "That is like what I was reading about;" or, "That reminds me of such an one you were telling me of." She was not able to read with the first class in the Sunday-school, but she would stand up and answer questions with any of them. In mentioning this, I do not wish to depreciate the merit of many of the other children, being fully aware that circumstances gave Elizabeth advantages which they did not possess: but her rapid improvement and desire of information will show what the capacities of Indian children are; and I think prove that they only need the same privileges and blessings that English children enjoy, to make them equally clever and useful members of society.
Another fine trait in Elizabeth's character was a love of truth. I could always depend on her word. She had only to promise and I felt quite satisfied obedience would follow. O, dear children, what a lesson is this! I can truly say that to have the care of such a child was a privilege as well as a pleasure; and to part with her, a trial greater than can be realized till the affliction comes.
"O! tis a lovely thing for youth
To walk betimes in wisdom's way;
To fear a lie, to speak the truth,
That we may trust to all they say."