Written By Reverend Enos Montour
Sunday, May 16th, 1915, dawned a beautiful pre-summer day. It was the second year of the First Great War. But to the native children, Loyalist though their ancestors were, that was all so far away. They had more immediate things to worry about.
Brown Tom Hemlock and Angus Greenleaf had many plans even if it was Sunday “Go to Meeting Day.” A boy’s day in May could be a beautiful thing with bob ’o’ links and robins swaying from the weeds, pouring out their hearts in song. Yellow canaries darted by, while hummingbirds drank from the nectar of flowers, their swiftly beating wings making an almost audible “whirr.”
On such a perfect day it seemed nothing could go wrong in God’s most perfect world. But that was the day that saw dark Tragedy strike, threatening the lives of all.
Up in the playroom atop forty-five sloping steps, Brown Tom and his faithful chum Angus Greenleaf were casually spending the late afternoon that Sunday. Angus was scraping a half turnip with the side of a spoon and enjoying eating the moist mulch. Brown Tom was practising making a half-shut jackknife open and land blade down.
Summer insects droned lazily in the afternoon sun. The rest of the sixty-five boys had scattered far afield. Some were frog hunting while others went to the Deep Bush Variety Store to “window shop.”
Around 4 p.m. the huge bell in the Main Tower began to ring, slowly at first, then gaining speed like an alarm.
“Milking time,” said Brown Tom, going toward the playroom door. “I wanna see those giggling girls.” “You would,” exclaimed Angus, resuming his lunch scraping.But, looking out the door Brown Tom shouted: “Oh, Gee Whiz. God help us.” Angus came running and looked out horrified, as the Milking girls with clattering pails let out terrified screams.
Out from the open door of the hay mow of the Great Barns a black whirling column of smoke was rolling toward them. The dry old hay was ablaze and roofs were ready to lift off.
These large barns stood on 10-foot-high cement walls and covered a rectangle of 100 x 150 feet. They enclosed a central courtyard. In these barns were housed the Milking Centre with a huge Melotte cream separator. Horse stables covered the other part, with a large tool shed and harness room. Above it all was the tinder-dry hay all-ablaze.
From the playroom the boys saw that only an open-work corncrib with slatted sides stood between them and the dense cloud of smoke.
Clattering down those steps, Angus shouted, “Let’s get outta here before that corncrib starts to burn.” The lady teachers and kitchen staff now joined the horrified girls, looking helplessly at the burning barns. The girls still clutched the shiny pails in their hands.
Then, the usually calm, dignified Clergyman—Principal Rev. S.R. McVitty, a Belfast minister—just awakened from his Sunday siesta, arrived. He usually hummed old Methodist hymns as he inspected his busy polyglot charges.
But, today, his vest was unbuttoned, his hair wind-tossed and his nerves unstrung. He stood transfixed for a moment, but as other male members of the Staff arrived, he began to issue orders right and left.
In that moment he envisioned the weeks of investigation he would have to undergo to account for all this. The Church, the Indian Department, Insurance Company and Missionary Staff would all await his answers.
Pandemonium now broke loose with shouting and the screams of imprisoned animals. The men on the School Staff quickly gathered around the dishevelled Principal, “Big Mac.”
With a mighty roar the flames broke through the barn roof and shot hundreds of feet into the air. This mixture of thick black smoke and mounting red flames could now be seen for miles around. The usually immaculate Vice-Principal and Senior Teacher J.R. Littleproud, who had the habit of tucking a small handkerchief inside his white linen collar, now came running collarless, adjusting his pince-nez glasses. He was ordered to the office, this dainty, saintly type, to phone Mt. Brydges, Southwold and Fingal, all towns encircling the holocaust. Their ancient, horse-drawn fire-fighting equipment soon drew near to the disaster area.
One of the earliest at the fiery scene was Mt. Elgin’s “Old Boy,” Johnny Kapayo, Mohawk Alumnus from a Quebec Reserve. He was trilingual. He was admitted at an early age as an unlearned urchin, but he later mastered a trade—Master Mechanic, a sort of “Mr. Fix-it.”
When Johnny was old enough to return to Quebec, he was taken “on the strength” of the School Staff, with a gang of boys to train in handling tools. He also took unto himself a wife from among the Girl Grads. So, he came, looked, and liked what he saw, and found his life work.
The usual juicy tobacco cud in Johnny’s jaws was rotating wildly as he gathered a gang of older boys around him to hunt up the unused fire hose. He reported to “Big Mac” and soon located the fire hose. More hose was found in the tool shed. Water was poured on the smouldering corncrib, which was a buffer between the fierce mounting blaze and the main buildings. It was a steady contest between water and fire.
Irish Stockman Bamford, bunions and all, and Farming Instructor James Henry joined the horrified members of the School Staff.
One oft recurring thought was “how did it all start?,” and what upset them more was wondering whether all the boys had been safely accounted for.
The watchers stood petrified, gazing at the fearful, devouring flames. They could not stay to watch, yet they could not walk away, held by the lurid flaming glow a few yards away.
The Author:
Reverend Enos Montour (1898-1985) was a United Church minister and writer from Six Nations of the Grand River Territory.
Over the course of his retirement, Rev. Montour wrote a collection of stories about Mount Elgin Industrial School at the time he attended (ca.1910-1915). Mount Elgin is one the earliest United Church-run Indian Residential Schools and was located on the Chippewas of the Thames First Nation. With the help of Dr. Elizabeth Graham, Montour finished and titled his book Brown Tom’s Schooldays.
With no publisher in sight, photocopies were made and distributed to family members in the early 1980s. This important book is difficult to find today, so Professor McCallum, worked with the University of Manitoba Press, Dr. Graham, and Montour’s two granddaughters Mary I. Anderson and Margaret Mackenzie, to issue a new edition.
The Editor:
Professor Mary Jane Logan McCallum is the Canada Research Chair in Indigenous People, History and Archives and a professor at University of Manitoba. She researches modern Indigenous histories, focusing on education, health, and labour. She teaches and mentors post-secondary students. She is a founding member of the Native American and Indigenous Studies Association and edits Shekon Neechie, a website that promotes Indigenous history by Indigenous people.
Another recent book is Nii Ndahlohke: Boys’ and Girls’ Work at Mount Elgin Industrial School 1890-1915.
More information at https://thechildrenremembered.ca/school-histories/mount-elgin/. For more facts about the Mt. Elgin Residential School, LIfe at the Mush Hole: Life at Two Indian Residential Schools. Available at Goodminds Bookstore.
https://goodminds.com/products/the-mush-hole-life-at-two-indian-residential-schools
