Part 1. The First Steps of Roman Catholicism on the Continent of North America (Cont.) (7)

After the final destruction of the Huron country, the Iroquois roamed there for several more years, finishing off the scattered remnants of the unfortunate tribe and taking them captive. Their boldness now knew no bounds and they seriously threatened the French colonies themselves. The settlers dared not venture beyond the walls of the forts, for the Iroquois, like wild beasts, lurked in the forest hunting human prey. Finally, however, continuous wars of many years’ duration had greatly exhausted their bloodthirsty instincts, and when they suffered a slight defeat in a skirmish with the French, they resolved to enter into peaceful negotiations with them. The French were delighted and hastened to take advantage of the opportunity to give it a name by one river, and with the names of the last four four counties of New York State are called.[1] In 1654, the Jesuit Lemoine set out for the country of the Iroquois, the Onondaga tribe. He was traveling along the bloody footprints of the Jesuits Jogues, Bressani, and thousands of Huron captives and martyrs, but no fear could stop the Jesuit from his missionary work. He boldly appeared in the village of the tribe and was rewarded for his courage. There he met thousands of Huron captives, most of whom were Christians, knew him personally, and therefore greeted him with joy. He immediately celebrated mass for them, gave communion to many, and baptized children and adults who had not yet been baptized. The Jesuit witnessed a remarkable sight. These Christian captives, whom the Jesuits had mourned as lost, proved to be fruitful seed of Christianity among the fierce Iroquois. Through them, Christianity had managed to open a path to the wild consciousness of the fierce conquerors, and to the Jesuit’s amazement, they were inclined to accept baptism. Lemoine returned to Quebec with glad tidings and set forth the prospects for converting the Iroquois. The following year, Jesuits Dablon and Chaumonot set out for the Iroquois and established a permanent missionary post. The Indians received them warmly, and the Huron captives enabled them quickly to build a chapel, where worship began. ‘Instead of marble and precious metals,’ writes Dablon in his diary, ‘we used only bark; but the path to heaven is as open through a bark roof as through vaults of gold and silver.’[2] Little by little, other tribes began to accept Christianity, and Jesuits constantly arrived from Quebec, establishing new posts in various settlements of the savages. It seemed that the pagan darkness feared the light and was scattered before it everywhere. But paganism was still strong among the Iroquois, and at any convenient opportunity it could take revenge on the bearers of Christianity. When many baptisms of Iroquois had already been performed, their medicine men began to preach to the people that this baptism was sorcery that was killing the children. ‘What these French ‘black robes’ call baptism,’ they said, ‘is evil sorcery performed to destroy our children. Our salvation consists in their immediate death. The dark night is the most convenient time for this.’ This idea spread like lightning among the Iroquois, and in a secret nighttime council they resolved to kill all the black robes. This hellish plot would undoubtedly have been carried out had not the Jesuits learned of the danger in time. Their resourcefulness saved them from certain death. As had happened once before, they arranged a feast for their executioners. The gluttonous savages, of course, did not refuse to come to the banquet offered by their destined victims, and while they were thus occupied with eating, the Jesuits unobtrusively got into the canoes prepared in advance and disappeared, setting out for Quebec, which was their only shelter. This was March 20, 1658, three years after the missionaries had penetrated into the Iroquois country.[3]

This event was the occasion for war between the Iroquois and the French, and it continued for two years with savage ferocity. The Iroquois took French prisoners and their Indian allies captive and, as was their custom, burned them, while the French in turn responded with cruelty toward Iroquois captives. But despite all this, the war did not have the seeds of prolonged duration. Among the Iroquois, there was already a strong Christian faction that sympathized with the French and desired peace with them. One important leader was a Christian and on every occasion protested against the burning of captives, did not allow the missionary chapel to be destroyed, and gave the Huron captives the opportunity to pray fearlessly in it and sing sacred hymns. As a result, one of the most peaceful tribes (the Onondaga) inclined toward peace with the French; others followed, with the exception of the fierce Mohawks, who continued the war for a few more years, until finally, abandoned to themselves, they too were forced to make peace, signed at Quebec on August 31, 1666. The Jesuits waited impatiently for this moment and again took up the holy work. A year after the peace was concluded, three Jesuits set out for the country of the most indomitable and fearsome enemies of Christianity—the Mohawks, who were more hostile to Christianity and the French than any other Iroquois tribe and who burned and tortured more Christian captives, among whom were the Jesuits Jogues and Bressani. But the blood of martyrs does not perish without trace; it was the fruitful seed of Christianity. The Mohawks, despite all their external untamed nature, proved amenable to the missionaries’ persuasion, and conversions among them became so frequent that the Jesuits requested helpers from Quebec. Little by little, the network of missionary work was spread throughout the entire Iroquois country, and in the heart of present-day New York State, in a land of terrible barbarism and cannibalism, the regular celebration of the Roman Catholic Mass began. In 1670, sixteen years after the opening of missionary work among the Iroquois, the cross was already raised high over the entire land of these savages, and especially among the Mohawks, who had appeared to be the most hopeless and stubborn barbarians. Among them was particularly evident the process of spiritual regeneration. The former wild nature struggled mightily against the new principle and yielded. From among the converted Iroquois emerged some who were ready to endure any torture from their pagan brothers for their faith and bore it patiently. Even examples of virtue appeared that were the object of admiration for the missionaries themselves. In the latter regard, the Iroquois maiden Catherine Tegakwita was especially renowned, whom the Jesuits called the New Geneviève.[4]

The Jesuits, however, did not long enjoy the fruits of their labors. In 1664, the territory of present-day New York State passed into the hands of the English, who brought with them a new policy toward the Indians and Jesuits. The English rulers began to view jealously the influence that France, through the Jesuits, held over the Indians, and their first action was to undermine this influence. Particularly zealous in this was the governor Dongan. From the beginning of his administration (1683), he resolved to expel the French Jesuits from his territory, and to this end began to incite the Indians against the Jesuits, promising to give them ‘better fathers’—English Jesuits—and to build churches for them. His efforts were not fruitless. The French Jesuits began to suffer insults and violence and finally had to withdraw from the field of their many years of labor.[5]

Thus ended the missionary work among New York State by French missionaries. To them first belongs the honor of enlightening this dark land of wild barbarism. They were the first to open a path here for Europeans. It was a bloody and dangerous path, but through their self-denial they achieved that which transformed fierce cannibals, whose enjoyment and occupation consisted of hunting humans and burning them, into obedient Christians. The fruits of their labors are visible to this day. The remnants of the ancient Indian tribe, still living in New York State, preserve the faith of their first teachers and remain unmoved by all persuasion of Protestant missionaries.[6]

VI

Meanwhile, while the wild nature of the Iroquois was still not broken and they were the scourge of all neighboring tribes, the Jesuits penetrated into the most remote regions with their preaching of Christianity and civilization. The remote tribes, constantly threatened by the fierce Iroquois, proved willing to ally themselves with the French, from whom they calculated they would find support in their struggle against the Iroquois. These regions were still quite unknown. But if the Iroquois penetrated there to satisfy their bloodthirstiness, why should not the peaceful messengers of the cross penetrate there as well? Among the Jesuits of Quebec, several zealous missionaries came forward, declaring their readiness to go preach to these peoples. The Bishop of Quebec himself, Laval, proposed to undertake this missionary work, but the lot fell to the Jesuit René Menard. In 1660, he set out on his journey with almost no preparations, relying, by his own words, ‘on Providence, which feeds the birds of the wilderness and clothes the wild flowers of the forests.’[7] After a long and exhausting journey, he arrived at the ruined remains of the Huron missions and then set out to the distant west, never to return. It is presumed that he became lost in the impenetrable forests and died of hunger. Some of his things were later found among the Sioux savages.[8] Thus ended the first attempt at missionary work in the distant west. But its fate did not frighten the courageous preachers of the cross. In 1665, a new missionary, Allouez, set out on the same path, and he achieved his destination more successfully. Passing by the great lakes, he arrived in the country of the Chippewas, who had never seen a white man, and from all the surrounding villages assembled to look at him. The Jesuit convened a people’s council, offered trade with the French and help against the Iroquois. For a year he lived among them, built a chapel, and taught the savages to sing the Pater and Ave. Moving from one tribe to another, he encountered the Illinois, who aroused his curiosity with accounts of a great river on whose banks they lived. ‘They have no forests,’ he says, ‘but instead vast prairies, where herds of deer and buffalo and other animals graze on tall grass. Their country,’ he notes, ‘is the best field for the gospel.’[9] Penetrating further west, he reached the country of the Sioux, and from them too heard of the great river, and was the first among Europeans to learn its name, recording it in his report in a somewhat abbreviated form: Mississippi.[10] But he was not the one to whom belongs the final discovery and exploration of this river. That belongs to another Jesuit, Marquette, who was the first to paddle down almost its entire length in a frail canoe and who first determined its course and its mouth.