CHAPTER V.

1633, 1634.

THE HURON MISSION.

Plans of Conversion • Aims and Motives • Indian Diplomacy • Hurons at

Quebec • Councils • The Jesuit Chapel • Le Borgne • The Jesuits Thwarted

• Their Perseverance • The Journey to the Hurons • Jean de Brébeuf • The

Mission Begun

Le Jeune had learned the difficulties of the Algonquin mission. To

imagine that he recoiled or faltered would be an injustice to his Order;

but on two points he had gained convictions: first, that little progress

could be made in converting these wandering hordes till they could be

settled in fixed abodes; and, secondly, that their scanty numbers, their

geographical position, and their slight influence in the politics of the

wilderness offered no flattering promise that their conversion would be

fruitful in further triumphs of the Faith. It was to another quarter

that the Jesuits looked most earnestly. By the vast lakes of the West

dwelt numerous stationary populations, and particularly the Hurons, on

the lake which bears their name. Here was a hopeful basis of indefinite

conquests; for, the Hurons won over, the Faith would spread in wider and

wider circles, embracing, one by one, the kindred tribes,--the Tobacco

Nation, the Neutrals, the Eries, and the Andastes. Nay, in His own time,

God might lead into His fold even the potent and ferocious Iroquois.

The way was pathless and long, by rock and torrent and the gloom of

savage forests. The goal was more dreary yet. Toil, hardship, famine,

filth, sickness, solitude, insult,--all that is most revolting to men

nurtured among arts and letters, all that is most terrific to monastic

credulity: such were the promise and the reality of the Huron mission.

In the eyes of the Jesuits, the Huron country was the innermost

stronghold of Satan, his castle and his donjon-keep. [1] All the weapons

of his malice were prepared against the bold invader who should assail

him in this, the heart of his ancient domain. Far from shrinking, the

priest's zeal rose to tenfold ardor. He signed the cross, invoked St.

Ignatius, St. Francis Xavier, or St. Francis Borgia, kissed his

reliquary, said nine masses to the Virgin, and stood prompt to battle

with all the hosts of Hell.

[1] "Une des principales forteresses & comme un donjon des

Demons."--Lalemant, Relation des Hurons, 1639, 100 (Cramoisy).

A life sequestered from social intercourse, and remote from every prize

which ambition holds worth the pursuit, or a lonely death, under forms,

perhaps, the most appalling,--these were the missionaries' alternatives.

Their maligners may taunt them, if they will, with credulity,

superstition, or a blind enthusiasm; but slander itself cannot accuse

them of hypocrisy or ambition. Doubtless, in their propagandism, they

were acting in concurrence with a mundane policy; but, for the present

at least, this policy was rational and humane. They were promoting the

ends of commerce and national expansion. The foundations of French

dominion were to be laid deep in the heart and conscience of the savage.

His stubborn neck was to be subdued to the "yoke of the Faith." The

power of the priest established, that of the temporal ruler was secure.

These sanguinary hordes, weaned from intestine strife, were to unite in

a common allegiance to God and the King. Mingled with French traders and

French settlers, softened by French manners, guided by French priests,

ruled by French officers, their now divided bands would become the

constituents of a vast wilderness empire, which in time might span the

continent. Spanish civilization crushed the Indian; English civilization

scorned and neglected him; French civilization embraced and cherished

him.

Policy and commerce, then, built their hopes on the priests. These

commissioned interpreters of the Divine Will, accredited with letters

patent from Heaven, and affiliated to God's anointed on earth, would

have pushed to its most unqualified application the Scripture metaphor

of the shepherd and the sheep. They would have tamed the wild man of the

woods to a condition of obedience, unquestioning, passive, and

absolute,--repugnant to manhood, and adverse to the invigorating and

expansive spirit of modern civilization. Yet, full of error and full of

danger as was their system, they embraced its serene and smiling

falsehoods with the sincerity of martyrs and the self-devotion of

saints.

We have spoken already of the Hurons, of their populous villages on the

borders of the great "Fresh Sea," their trade, their rude agriculture,

their social life, their wild and incongruous superstitions, and the

sorcerers, diviners, and medicine-men who lived on their credulity. [2]

Iroquois hostility left open but one avenue to their country, the long

and circuitous route which, eighteen years before, had been explored by

Champlain, [3]--up the river Ottawa, across Lake Nipissing, down French

River, and along the shores of the great Georgian Bay of Lake Huron,--a

route as difficult as it was tedious. Midway, on Allumette Island, in

the Ottawa, dwelt the Algonquin tribe visited by Champlain in 1613, and

who, amazed at the apparition of the white stranger, thought that he had

fallen from the clouds. [4] Like other tribes of this region, they were

keen traders, and would gladly have secured for themselves the benefits

of an intermediate traffic between the Hurons and the French, receiving

the furs of the former in barter at a low rate, and exchanging them with

the latter at their full value. From their position, they could at any

time close the passage of the Ottawa; but, as this would have been a

perilous exercise of their rights, [5] they were forced to act with

discretion. An opportunity for the practice of their diplomacy had

lately occurred. On or near the Ottawa, at some distance below them,

dwelt a small Algonquin tribe, called La Petite Nation. One of this

people had lately killed a Frenchman, and the murderer was now in the

hands of Champlain, a prisoner at the fort of Quebec. The savage

politicians of Allumette Island contrived, as will soon be seen, to turn

this incident to profit.

[2] See Introduction.

[3] "Pioneers of France," 364.

[4] Ibid., 348.

[5] Nevertheless, the Hurons always passed this way as a matter of

favor, and gave yearly presents to the Algonquins of the island, in

acknowledgment of the privilege--Le Jeune, Relation, 1636, 70.--By the

unwritten laws of the Hurons and Algonquins, every tribe had the right,

even in full peace, of prohibiting the passage of every other tribe

across its territory. In ordinary cases, such prohibitions were quietly

submitted to.

"Ces Insulaires voudraient bien que les Hurons ne vinssent point aux

François & que les François n'allassent point aux Hurons, afin

d'emporter eux seuls tout le trafic," etc.--Relation, 1633, 205

(Cramoisy),--"desirans eux-mesmes aller recueiller les marchandises des

peuples circonvoisins pour les apporter aux François." This "Nation de

l'Isle" has been erroneously located at Montreal. Its true position is

indicated on the map of Du Creux, and on an ancient MS. map in the Dépôt

des Cartes, of which a fac-simile is before me. See also "Pioneers of

France," 347.

In the July that preceded Le Jeune's wintering with the Montagnais, a

Huron Indian, well known to the French, came to Quebec with the tidings,

that the annual canoe-fleet of his countrymen was descending the St.

Lawrence. On the twenty-eighth, the river was alive with them. A hundred

and forty canoes, with six or seven hundred savages, landed at the

warehouses beneath the fortified rock of Quebec, and set up their huts

and camp-sheds on the strand now covered by the lower town. The greater

number brought furs and tobacco for the trade; others came as

sight-seers; others to gamble, and others to steal, [6]--accomplishments

in which the Hurons were proficient: their gambling skill being

exercised chiefly against each other, and their thieving talents against

those of other nations.

[6] "Quelques vns d'entre eux ne viennent à la traite auec les François

que pour iouër, d'autres pour voir, quelques vns pour dérober, et les

plus sages et les plus riches pour trafiquer."--Le Jeune, Relation,

1633, 34.

The routine of these annual visits was nearly uniform. On the first day,

the Indians built their huts; on the second, they held their council

with the French officers at the fort; on the third and fourth, they

bartered their furs and tobacco for kettles, hatchets, knives, cloth,

beads, iron arrow-heads, coats, shirts, and other commodities; on the

fifth, they were feasted by the French; and at daybreak of the next

morning, they embarked and vanished like a flight of birds. [7]

[7] "Comme une volée d'oiseaux."--Le Jeune, Relation, 1633, 190

(Cramoisy).--The tobacco brought to the French by the Hurons may have

been raised by the adjacent tribe of the Tionnontates, who cultivated it

largely for sale. See Introduction.

On the second day, then, the long file of chiefs and warriors mounted

the pathway to the fort,--tall, well-moulded figures, robed in the skins

of the beaver and the bear, each wild visage glowing with paint and

glistening with the oil which the Hurons extracted from the seeds of the

sunflower. The lank black hair of one streamed loose upon his shoulders;

that of another was close shaven, except an upright ridge, which,

bristling like the crest of a dragoon's helmet, crossed the crown from

the forehead to the neck; while that of a third hung, long and flowing

from one side, but on the other was cut short. Sixty chiefs and

principal men, with a crowd of younger warriors, formed their

council-circle in the fort, those of each village grouped together, and

all seated on the ground with a gravity of bearing sufficiently curious

to those who had seen the same men in the domestic circle of their

lodge-fires. Here, too, were the Jesuits, robed in black, anxious and

intent; and here was Champlain, who, as he surveyed the throng,

recognized among the elder warriors not a few of those who, eighteen

years before, had been his companions in arms on his hapless foray

against the Iroquois. [8]

[8] See "Pioneers of France," 370.

Their harangues of compliment being made and answered, and the

inevitable presents given and received, Champlain introduced to the

silent conclave the three missionaries, Brébeuf, Daniel, and Davost. To

their lot had fallen the honors, dangers, and woes of the Huron mission.

"These are our fathers," he said. "We love them more than we love

ourselves. The whole French nation honors them. They do not go among you

for your furs. They have left their friends and their country to show

you the way to heaven. If you love the French, as you say you love them,

then love and honor these our fathers." [9]

[9] Le Jeune, Relation, 1633, 274 (Cramoisy); Mercure Français, 1634,

845.

Two chiefs rose to reply, and each lavished all his rhetoric in praises

of Champlain and of the French. Brébeuf rose next, and spoke in broken

Huron,--the assembly jerking in unison, from the bottom of their

throats, repeated ejaculations of applause. Then they surrounded him,

and vied with each other for the honor of carrying him in their canoes.

In short, the mission was accepted; and the chiefs of the different

villages disputed among themselves the privilege of receiving and

entertaining the three priests.

On the last of July, the day of the feast of St. Ignatius, Champlain and

several masters of trading vessels went to the house of the Jesuits in

quest of indulgences; and here they were soon beset by a crowd of

curious Indians, who had finished their traffic, and were making a tour

of observation. Being excluded from the house, they looked in at the

windows of the room which served as a chapel; and Champlain, amused at

their exclamations of wonder, gave one of them a piece of citron. The

Huron tasted it, and, enraptured, demanded what it was. Champlain

replied, laughing, that it was the rind of a French pumpkin. The fame of

this delectable production was instantly spread abroad; and, at every

window, eager voices and outstretched hands petitioned for a share of

the marvellous vegetable. They were at length allowed to enter the

chapel, which had lately been decorated with a few hangings, images, and

pieces of plate. These unwonted splendors filled them with admiration.

They asked if the dove over the altar was the bird that makes the

thunder; and, pointing to the images of Loyola and Xavier, inquired if

they were okies, or spirits: nor was their perplexity much diminished by

Brébeuf's explanation of their true character. Three images of the

Virgin next engaged their attention; and, in answer to their questions,

they were told that they were the mother of Him who made the world. This

greatly amused them, and they demanded if he had three mothers. "Oh!"

exclaims the Father Superior, "had we but images of all the holy

mysteries of our faith! They are a great assistance, for they speak

their own lesson." [10] The mission was not doomed long to suffer from a

dearth of these inestimable auxiliaries.

[10] Relation, 1633, 38.

The eve of departure came. The three priests packed their baggage, and

Champlain paid their passage, or, in other words, made presents to the

Indians who were to carry them in their canoes. They lodged that night

in the storehouse of the fur company, around which the Hurons were

encamped; and Le Jeune and De Nouë stayed with them to bid them farewell

in the morning. At eleven at night, they were roused by a loud voice in

the Indian camp, and saw Le Borgne, the one-eyed chief of Allumette

Island, walking round among the huts, haranguing as he went. Brébeuf,

listening, caught the import of his words. "We have begged the French

captain to spare the life of the Algonquin of the Petite Nation whom he

keeps in prison; but he will not listen to us. The prisoner will die.

Then his people will revenge him. They will try to kill the three

black-robes whom you are about to carry to your country. If you do not

defend them, the French will be angry, and charge you with their death.

But if you do, then the Algonquins will make war on you, and the river

will be closed. If the French captain will not let the prisoner go, then

leave the three black-robes where they are; for, if you take them with

you, they will bring you to trouble."

Such was the substance of Le Borgne's harangue. The anxious priests

hastened up to the fort, gained admittance, and roused Champlain from

his slumbers. He sent his interpreter with a message to the Hurons, that

he wished to speak to them before their departure; and, accordingly, in

the morning an Indian crier proclaimed through their camp that none

should embark till the next day. Champlain convoked the chiefs, and

tried persuasion, promises, and threats; but Le Borgne had been busy

among them with his intrigues, and now he declared in the council, that,

unless the prisoner were released, the missionaries would be murdered on

their way, and war would ensue. The politic savage had two objects in

view. On the one hand, he wished to interrupt the direct intercourse

between the French and the Hurons; and, on the other, he thought to gain

credit and influence with the nation of the prisoner by effecting his

release. His first point was won. Champlain would not give up the

murderer, knowing those with whom he was dealing too well to take a

course which would have proclaimed the killing of a Frenchman a venial

offence. The Hurons thereupon refused to carry the missionaries to their

country; coupling the refusal with many regrets and many protestations

of love, partly, no doubt, sincere,--for the Jesuits had contrived to

gain no little favor in their eyes. The council broke up, the Hurons

embarked, and the priests returned to their convent.

Here, under the guidance of Brébeuf, they employed themselves, amid

their other avocations, in studying the Huron tongue. A year passed, and

again the Indian traders descended from their villages. In the

meanwhile, grievous calamities had befallen the nation. They had

suffered deplorable reverses at the hands of the Iroquois; while a

pestilence, similar to that which a few years before had swept off the

native populations of New England, had begun its ravages among them.

They appeared at Three Rivers--this year the place of trade--in small

numbers, and in a miserable state of dejection and alarm. Du Plessis

Bochart, commander of the French fleet, called them to a council,

harangued them, feasted them, and made them presents; but they refused

to take the Jesuits. In private, however, some of them were gained over;

then again refused; then, at the eleventh hour, a second time consented.

On the eve of embarkation, they once more wavered. All was confusion,

doubt, and uncertainty, when Brébeuf bethought him of a vow to St.

Joseph. The vow was made. At once, he says, the Indians became

tractable; the Fathers embarked, and, amid salvos of cannon from the

ships, set forth for the wild scene of their apostleship.

They reckoned the distance at nine hundred miles; but distance was the

least repellent feature of this most arduous journey. Barefoot, lest

their shoes should injure the frail vessel, each crouched in his canoe,

toiling with unpractised hands to propel it. Before him, week after

week, he saw the same lank, unkempt hair, the same tawny shoulders, and

long, naked arms ceaselessly plying the paddle. The canoes were soon

separated; and, for more than a month, the Frenchmen rarely or never

met. Brébeuf spoke a little Huron, and could converse with his escort;

but Daniel and Davost were doomed to a silence unbroken save by the

occasional unintelligible complaints and menaces of the Indians, of whom

many were sick with the epidemic, and all were terrified, desponding,

and sullen. Their only food was a pittance of Indian corn, crushed

between two stones and mixed with water. The toil was extreme. Brébeuf

counted thirty-five portages, where the canoes were lifted from the

water, and carried on the shoulders of the voyagers around rapids or

cataracts. More than fifty times, besides, they were forced to wade in

the raging current, pushing up their empty barks, or dragging them with

ropes. Brébeuf tried to do his part; but the boulders and sharp rocks

wounded his naked feet, and compelled him to desist. He and his

companions bore their share of the baggage across the portages,

sometimes a distance of several miles. Four trips, at the least, were

required to convey the whole. The way was through the dense forest,

incumbered with rocks and logs, tangled with roots and underbrush, damp

with perpetual shade, and redolent of decayed leaves and mouldering

wood. [11] The Indians themselves were often spent with fatigue.

Brébeuf, a man of iron frame and a nature unconquerably resolute,

doubted if his strength would sustain him to the journey's end. He

complains that he had no moment to read his breviary, except by the

moonlight or the fire, when stretched out to sleep on a bare rock by

some savage cataract of the Ottawa, or in a damp nook of the adjacent

forest.

[11] "Adioustez à ces difficultez, qu'il faut coucher sur la terre nuë,

ou sur quelque dure roche, faute de trouuer dix ou douze pieds de terre

en quarré pour placer vne chetiue cabane; qu'il faut sentir incessamment

la puanteur des Sauuages recreus, marcher dans les eaux, dans les

fanges, dans l'obscurité et l'embarras des forest, où les piqueures

d'vne multitude infinie de mousquilles et cousins vous importunent

fort."--Brébeuf, Relation des Hurons, 1635, 25, 26.

All the Jesuits, as well as several of their countrymen who accompanied

them, suffered more or less at the hands of their ill-humored

conductors. [12] Davost's Indian robbed him of a part of his baggage,

threw a part into the river, including most of the books and

writing-materials of the three priests, and then left him behind, among

the Algonquins of Allumette Island. He found means to continue the

journey, and at length reached the Huron towns in a lamentable state of

bodily prostration. Daniel, too, was deserted, but fortunately found

another party who received him into their canoe. A young Frenchman,

named Martin, was abandoned among the Nipissings; another, named Baron,

on reaching the Huron country, was robbed by his conductors of all he

had, except the weapons in his hands. Of these he made good use,

compelling the robbers to restore a part of their plunder.

[12] "En ce voyage, il nous a fallu tous commencer par ces experiences à

porter la Croix que Nostre Seigneur nous presente pour son honneur, et

pour le salut de ces pauures Barbares. Certes ie me suis trouué

quelquesfois si las, que le corps n'en pouuoit plus. Mais d'ailleurs mon

âme ressentoit de tres-grands contentemens, considerant que ie souffrois

pour Dieu: nul ne le sçait, s'il ne l'experimente. Tous n'en ont pas

esté quittes à si bon marché."--Brébeuf, Relation des Hurons, 1635, 26.

Three years afterwards, a paper was printed by the Jesuits of Paris,

called Instruction pour les Pères de nostre Compagnie qui seront enuoiez

aux Hurons, and containing directions for their conduct on this route by

the Ottawa. It is highly characteristic, both of the missionaries and of

the Indians. Some of the points are, in substance, as follows.--You

should love the Indians like brothers, with whom you are to spend the

rest of your life.--Never make them wait for you in embarking.--Take a

flint and steel to light their pipes and kindle their fire at night; for

these little services win their hearts.--Try to eat their sagamite as

they cook it, bad and dirty as it is.--Fasten up the skirts of your

cassock, that you may not carry water or sand into the canoe.--Wear no

shoes or stockings in the canoe; but you may put them on in crossing the

portages.--Do not make yourself troublesome, even to a single

Indian.--Do not ask them too many questions.--Bear their faults in

silence, and appear always cheerful.--Buy fish for them from the tribes

you will pass; and for this purpose take with you some awls, beads,

knives, and fish-hooks.--Be not ceremonious with the Indians; take at

once what they offer you: ceremony offends them.--Be very careful, when

in the canoe, that the brim of your hat does not annoy them. Perhaps it

would be better to wear your night-cap. There is no such thing as

impropriety among Indians.--Remember that it is Christ and his cross

that you are seeking; and if you aim at anything else, you will get

nothing but affliction for body and mind.

Descending French River, and following the lonely shores of the great

Georgian Bay, the canoe which carried Brébeuf at length neared its

destination, thirty days after leaving Three Rivers. Before him,

stretched in savage slumber, lay the forest shore of the Hurons. Did his

spirit sink as he approached his dreary home, oppressed with a dark

foreboding of what the future should bring forth? There is some reason

to think so. Yet it was but the shadow of a moment; for his masculine

heart had lost the sense of fear, and his intrepid nature was fired with

a zeal before which doubts and uncertainties fled like the mists of the

morning. Not the grim enthusiasm of negation, tearing up the weeds of

rooted falsehood, or with bold hand felling to the earth the baneful

growth of overshadowing abuses: his was the ancient faith uncurtailed,

redeemed from the decay of centuries, kindled with a new life, and

stimulated to a preternatural growth and fruitfulness.

Brébeuf and his Huron companions having landed, the Indians, throwing

the missionary's baggage on the ground, left him to his own resources;

and, without heeding his remonstrances, set forth for their respective

villages, some twenty miles distant. Thus abandoned, the priest kneeled,

not to implore succor in his perplexity, but to offer thanks to the

Providence which had shielded him thus far. Then, rising, he pondered as

to what course he should take. He knew the spot well. It was on the

borders of the small inlet called Thunder Bay. In the neighboring Huron

town of Toanché he had lived three years, preaching and baptizing; [13]

but Toanché had now ceased to exist. Here, Étienne Brulé, Champlain's

adventurous interpreter, had recently been murdered by the inhabitants,

who, in excitement and alarm, dreading the consequences of their deed,

had deserted the spot, and built, at the distance of a few miles, a new

town, called Ihonatiria. [14] Brébeuf hid his baggage in the woods,

including the vessels for the Mass, more precious than all the rest, and

began his search for this new abode. He passed the burnt remains of

Toanché, saw the charred poles that had formed the frame of his little

chapel of bark, and found, as he thought, the spot where Brulé had

fallen. [15] Evening was near, when, after following, bewildered and

anxious, a gloomy forest path, he issued upon a wild clearing, and saw

before him the bark roofs of Ihonatiria.

[13] From 1626 to 1629. There is no record of the events of this first

mission, which was ended with the English occupation of Quebec. Brébeuf

had previously spent the winter of 1625-26 among the Algonquins, like Le

Jeune in 1633-34.--Lettre du P. Charles Lalemant au T. R. P. Mutio

Vitelleschi, 1 Aug., 1626, in Carayon.

[14] Concerning Brulé, see "Pioneers of France," 377-380.

[15] "Ie vis pareillement l'endroit où le pauure Estienne Brulé auoit

esté barbarement et traîtreusement assommé; ce qui me fit penser que

quelque iour on nous pourroit bien traitter de la sorte, et desirer au

moins que ce fust en pourchassant la gloire de N. Seigneur."--Brébeuf,

Relation des Hurons, 1635, 28, 29.--The missionary's prognostics were

but too well founded.

A crowd ran out to meet him. "Echom has come again! Echom has come

again!" they cried, recognizing in the distance the stately figure,

robed in black, that advanced from the border of the forest. They led

him to the town, and the whole population swarmed about him. After a

short rest, he set out with a number of young Indians in quest of his

baggage, returning with it at one o'clock in the morning. There was a

certain Awandoay in the village, noted as one of the richest and most

hospitable of the Hurons,--a distinction not easily won where

hospitality was universal. His house was large, and amply stored with

beans and corn; and though his prosperity had excited the jealousy of

the villagers, he had recovered their good-will by his generosity. With

him Brébeuf made his abode, anxiously waiting, week after week, the

arrival of his companions. One by one, they appeared: Daniel, weary and

worn; Davost, half dead with famine and fatigue; and their French

attendants, each with his tale of hardship and indignity. At length, all

were assembled under the roof of the hospitable Indian, and once more

the Huron mission was begun.

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