Memoir | Page 7

case there might be a foul
odour. This precaution, however, was not necessary, as there was no
smell perceptible, they were as fresh, so to speak, as if they were still
alive. We remarked especially that the body of Brother Jean Marie, (the
lay Brother) was supple. I touched it myself, and saw that it was really
so, for while I held him his legs swayed as would those of a person in
life.
Near the town there was a little cemetery well walled in, and intended
for the poor. As our brothers were poor in fact, and by profession, I had
them laid there, and in the same spirit of poverty interred them side by
side in the same grave. We accompanied these good brothers to the
tomb, offering our prayers for their repose, and all was finished before
daylight.
About the middle of the month of May, 1815, our business being
concluded, we left New York, and fifteen days later arrived at Halifax,
without having experienced bad weather. After two week's delay in
searching for another vessel, we at length found one, and by means of
the recommendation of Mr. Burke, then pastor of the town, and since
Bishop, we were taken on board with our seven trunks without being
obliged to pay anything for our passage. The ship was a transport called
the "Ceylon," and was delayed by contrary winds. The second day after
we embarked the wind still being from a wrong quarter, I was stupid
and imprudent enough to go ashore to see about some business that was
not of grave importance--when lo! the wind veered round suddenly and
became favorable. The ship sailed, but Father, Vincent remained and
lost his passage!
I thus found myself alone in a strange country, and without means. I

made every effort to discover some way of overtaking the ship, but in
vain. It was impossible to do so, and I felt very sad at the thought of my
brothers being carried so far away from me.
My Superior in France, to whom I made known this event, wrote to me
that as God had permitted it, I could remain until farther orders, and
occupy myself with the salvation of the Indians; for which object I
accordingly labored up to the time of my leaving Nova Scotia, that is to
say up to the month of October, 1823. These labors, however, did not
prevent my working for the good of our Order, as we shall see later.
Mr. Bourke having gone to Ireland, we were only two priests for the
town of Halifax and its suburbs, where there were many Catholics,
without counting the Mic-macs, who are the Indians inhabiting Nova
Scotia. These Indians were called to the Faith about four centuries ago.
French priests or Jesuits coming at the peril of their lives, brought them
the light of the Gospel. Many of these ministers of our Lord fell victims
of their own zeal and charity, being murdered by this nation, then
pagan and barbarous. Since these Indians became acquainted with the
true religion they have never been known to conform to any other, but
have preserved their firmness in the faith up to the present day in spite
of the danger of perversion to which they are so often exposed, more
especially since they have lived among the English, and in spite of their
ignorance, for it is difficult to teach them. Their language which they
call "Mic-mac," is a jargon without rule. They have been taught to read
in it, but only by means of hieroglyphics. A figure or a sign which they
write themselves on bark or on paper, may sometimes signify only one
word, sometimes again it stands for a whole phrase. Some have thought
they detected Arab words amongst this language, but I think it bears
more resemblance to that of children just learning to speak without
being able to understand what they say. For example for the "_yes_"
they say [long-e] (ay); for "_no_" they say "mena." The accent of the
Mic-mac is soft and slow. I have remarked that, they do not convey
their ideas well in any other language. When one translates Mic-mac
for them into French or English, they often appear dissatisfied, and one
can see from their manner that the true sense is not given. What renders
their faith more remarkable and meritorious is, that they confess
through the medium of an interpreter, and they avail themselves of the
first they find, no matter who, provided he knows their language. They

are often interpreted by their relatives, even the oldest by the youngest.
Mr. Mayar, a French priest who was formerly missionary to these parts
and who died in Halifax full of merit before God, was deeply regretted
by these Indians.