I drove with my kind friends several times to and around the varied

and pretty villas: the primroses peeped at us from under the hedges,

and here and there the rarest tropical trees and plants riveted our

attention--and this in February, when the most of the world was

ice-bound. The snow-capped mountains, however, rising around us on

every side, would not permit us to entirely forget winter. The town

itself, of twenty-one thousand inhabitants, is almost a miniature

Paris, some squares duplicating those of the great city, and the

bridges separating Pau and the Jurançon, though crossing a much

prettier river than the Seine, heightening the resemblance.

The churches are costly and beautiful; one built by the Society of

Jesus, entirely of white marble, and lined with exquisite pictures

and gifts of the wealthy strangers who pass the season at the

different hotels, is a perfect gem in its way.

The hotels, the Place Royale with its music every Thursday--weather

permitting, as say our friends of the Central Park--where crowds walk

up and down and listen to but little, I imagine, are all attractions

for the health or pleasure seeker.

Very odd old houses with gabled roofs, and reminding you of Dutch

pictures, start out occasionally from among the more modern and

fashionable ones, and seem to tell the story of change and decay.

Not unfrequently a merry peasant wedding party, in a whole line

of carriages trumpeting vigorously and raising the dust, pass you

with shouts, and compel your curiosity to recognize and salute the

bride. It is said the strangers with their wealth and fashionable

follies are gradually obliterating these good old Béarnais customs,

through the spirit of emulation they excite in a hitherto perfectly

happy peasantry. Women, however, still walk the streets with their

distaffs, and men knit as they guide the plough. Something of

primeval innocence still remains. Certainly no country was ever more

paradisiacally formed to retain it.

My time was limited, however; I could not stay and study these

people and their customs as I would have wished. I could not visit

the great summer resort, the famed Eaux Bonnes, so beautifully

nestled, they told me, among the higher Pyrenees, but must exert all

the strength I had to see before I left the great monument of Pau,

the grand old

CHATEAU OF HENRY IV.

The street ascends to it, and through an arcade by stone steps to

its park, which is now the everyday public resort. The park extends

all around the chateau, and, crossing a pretty bridge erected over

the Rue Marca, it continues for some miles in an ornamented walk

containing two principal avenues; one so shaded that it is cool all

summer, and the other sunny enough at any time to welcome and warm

the poor invalid who could not exist without his daily walk.

We do not find here the rich and varied architecture so attractive

in other imperial parks, Versailles, for instance; the hand of man

is displaced by that of nature, but the woods of rare trees on

hills that give everywhere the exquisite panorama of the encircling

Pyrenees are more than compensatory for any omissions of art.

The gate of St. Martin greets you as you enter. Built in 1586, it was

formerly the main entrance to the chateau when the drawbridge was

used. Now it leads to the Hôtel de la Monnaie, a dependence inhabited

by the subalterns and furnishers of the palace. Here the money of

Béarn was formerly made. Now we approach a hemicycle containing two

large vases in Medici form of Swedish porphyry, and given to the

chateau of Pau by King Bernadotte, who was born here. The statue of

Gaston Phœbus in white marble, the work of the Baron of Triquety,

towers between them. He stands the guard perpetual of the chateau.

Much of the land belonging to the former park has been divided and

sold, and is now the Place Napoléon. Vestiges, however, of ancient

walls are still allowed to exist, and on the left may yet be seen

the remains of the Hermitage of Notre Dame des Bris, attributed to

William Raymond, ravaged during the religious wars, and entirely

destroyed in 1793.

At the foot of the hill on the north side stood also the Castet

Beziat (in Béarnais dialect, _dearest castle_). And here let me

speak of this odd native patois. It is a mixture of French, Spanish,

and Italian, and is understood only by strangers who know the three

languages, yet it is euphonious and occasionally dignified. The

better class of the peasantry speak both it and a pretty French.

They prolong the syllables more than in Paris, which adds greatly to

the sweetness of the sound. This _Château Chère_ was built after the

model of the Château de Madrid in the Bois de Boulogne, by Marguerite

of Valois.

Jeanne d'Albret made it her favorite residence, and here occupied

herself exclusively with the education of her children, Henry IV. and

Catherine, who, after the death of her mother, made it the secret

residence of the Count de Soissons, whom she passionately loved but

could not marry. No trace of this Castet Beziat exists now. But let

us enter the great chateau, and first consider somewhat its origin.

Centule le Bieux was its founder toward the end of the year 982,

and his successors continued the southern portion, but it was not

finished until the time of Gaston Phœbus, who completed also the

great square tower that bears his name, the ramparts and parapets,

and the mill-tower, in order that he might make it his residence.

This mill-tower gave entrance to the Place de la Basse Ville, or

former field of battle, where hand to hand the armed knights decided

their judiciary combats. About 1460, Gaston X., desirous to give his

Béarnais people a truly royal residence, constructed the north and

east portions of the edifice, laid out the park, and decided that

the states of Béarn should be always represented in the halls of the

castle.

In 1527, the Margaret of Margarets, the sister so dear to Francis

I., becoming queen of Navarre by her marriage with Henry II., made

it a true palace of the Renaissance, restoring it entirely and

refurnishing it from top to bottom.

Abandoned later by Henry IV., become king of France, and despoiled

of everything precious it possessed by him and Louis XIII., entirely

neglected by their successors, it fell into the hands of governors,

then was seized by the republicans, who, not contented to sell at

the lowest price and piece by piece the lands of the royal domain,

converted into a tavern and stables the palace that formerly was the

cradle of the great king.

Not until the short reign of Louis XVIII. was any attempt made to

restore the castle to its former condition, a work soon neglected and

abandoned, but recommenced in 1838 by Louis Philippe, who ordered

besides the complete refurnishing of the apartments pretty much as

they are seen to-day.

Napoleon III., however, with his taste for the restoration of all

fallen grandeur that may recall royalty or the Empire, has done all

in his power to produce an almost magic transformation, a complete

resurrection of the old chateau, and at the present time the work

continues under the supervision of the most able architects.

The beautiful exterior that presents itself so commandingly, the

harmony that prevails in every part of the building surrounding

the Court of Honor, the pretty windows opening on the chapel, the

sculptures everywhere newly restored, the incessant labor on the

southern portion, all denote the desire of Napoleon to preserve and

embellish one of the most precious monuments of history.

The letters =G-P= in gold are placed in different parts of the

building. To Gaston Phœbus is accorded the honor of its construction.

You enter the chateau from the town-side by a bridge of stone and

brick, built by Louis XV. to replace the drawbridge that formerly

occupied the site of the present chapel.

Pause on this bridge, and look around you. On either side is a

deep ditch which once defended the entrance of the chateau, now a

magnificent avenue planted with trees and covered with flower-beds.

At your left is the chapel, whose date is 1840. The doors and windows

are elaborately sculptured. In front, you will notice three arcades

constructed in the style of the Renaissance, covered with a terrace

and carved balustrade, which serves for the principal entrance.

On your left and under the portico is the porter's lodge. At

the right in the new building are the bureaus of administration

and service; on the first story, the apartments of the military

commander; on the second, those of the register; and on the third and

last, the housekeeper's rooms for linen, etc.

The Court of Honor arrests your attention by its original form, its

deeply graven sculptures in the niches of the windows and doors

representing the different Béarnais sovereigns, and the statue of

Mars that faces the principal entrance. If these walls could speak,

they would tell how often the Béarnais people have assembled here

with shouts of respect or cries of vengeance, according as the

qualities of their prince called forth the one or the other.

The towers of the chateau are six in number: at the left on entering,

the Tower Gaston Phébus; at the right, the new Tower and Tower

Montauzet; at the lower end, the northwest, the Tower Billères; and

at the southwestern end, the two Towers Mazères.

The tower Gaston Phébus, or donjon, was called the tile tower,

because it is built almost entirely of brick. It has a roof of slate

which was carried off in a terrible storm in 1820.

A balcony faces the church of St. Martin, where the president of the

states of Béarn took his place to proclaim the name of each newly

elected sovereign.

Several illustrious personages have inhabited this tower. Among

others, Clement Marot, the favorite and unfortunate adorer of the

Queen Margaret, and Mademoiselle de Scudery, who passed the summer

here of 1637.

Under the reign of Louis XIV. it was converted into a prison of

state, and so continued until 1822.

Each story is now inhabited and richly furnished, and on the fifth

is a terrace that commands a most imposing view of the surrounding

country.

The tower Montauzet, in the Béarnais dialect, takes its name from the

circumstance that only birds could reach the top; Montauzet meaning

Mount Bird! In truth, it has no staircase, and history tells us that

in case of a siege the garrison ascended it by ladders, which they

drew up after them.

It had its dungeons, terrible wells into which criminals were

lowered. An iron statue armed with steel poniards received them,

clasped them in its arms, and, by ingenious means that the legend

does not explain, murdered them in unspeakable tortures. Henri

d'Albret closed up the entrance to these dungeons, and they were

forgotten until the reign of Louis XV. He caused them to be opened,

and discovered skeletons and iron chains fastened to the walls.

The ground-floor of the tower Montauzet formerly contained a fine

fountain. This will be replaced. The three stories above are occupied

generally by the domestics of the great dignitaries of the crown.

The other towers have nothing of interest. They are named from the

villages they face, and are simply advanced sentinels to defend the

approach of an enemy from the Pyrenees.

As soon as a visitor arrives at the chateau, he is ushered into the

waiting-room called Salle des Gardes, because during the presence of

majesty the valets waited here under the supervision of an officer

of the household. But little furniture is seen, a few old-fashioned

chairs surmounted by lions and the arms of France and Navarre.

From this room we enter the dining-room of the officers of the

service. There is nothing remarkable in its furniture, a long and

very wide table occupying the centre, and comfortable chairs placed

against the wall. Two statues, the one of Henry IV., the other of

Tully, stand on either side of the door, and are singularly imposing.

We pass on to the dining-room of their majesties. This is far more

elegant. Flemish tapestry adorns the walls, which was brought here

from the Château de Madrid in the Bois de Boulogne. It represents

the chase in the different months of June, September, November, and

December. A clock of the time and style of Louis XIV., and a statue

of Henry IV. in white marble, by Francheville, which is said to be

older, and to represent the king more correctly than any other, are

the principal ornaments.

The Staircase of Honor leads us to the first story. It is richly

sculptured with astonishing beauty and skill. Doors lead from it to

the kitchens below, and to the different towers.

We ascend and gain the waiting-room. During the presence of their

majesties, the door-keepers remain here. When the emperor is alone,

he chooses this for his slight repasts.

The most beautiful tapestry covers the walls. The subjects are of all

kinds, mostly rural scenes, in which children or fairies predominate.

The furniture is of oak, and covered with leather.

The reception-room, the largest and most elegant in the chateau,

awaits us next. Here, by order and under the eyes of the cruel

Montgomery, general of Jeanne d'Albret, ten Catholic noblemen were

treacherously murdered. The sun shone in on us through the large

bay-windows, and gilded the richly ornamented stone chimney, and

threw the reflection of the mountain-tops across the floor. We stood,

perhaps, on the very spot where these brave souls had met their death

so many years before, though no trace remained of the horrors of

that day. The guide told the story, and most of our party passed on

to admire the tapestry and the costly vases that lend enchantment to

what should be a chamber of mourning. With all its beauty, I was glad

to escape to the family apartment.

Here, it is said, Queen Margaret presided. Her picture, and those of

Francis I., Henri d'Albret, and Henry IV., formerly graced the walls,

but the hand of vandalism, in 1793, spared not even them. They were

burned with all the other pictures of the chateau. A bronze statue of

Henry IV., when a child, which graces a pretty bracket, and a table,

the gift of Bernadotte, ornament the room.

The sleeping apartments of the emperor and empress follow, furnished

tastefully with Sèvres china ornaments, on which are representations

of Henry IV., Tully, and the Château de Pau, beautifully executed.

The walls are hung with Flemish tapestry; but in the boudoir of the

empress are to be seen six pieces of Gobelin tapestry, so finished

that it was some time before it could be decided they were not

oil-paintings. The subjects are: "Tully at the feet of Henry IV.;"

"Henry IV. at the Miller Michaud's;" "The Parting of Henry IV. with

Gabrielle;" "The Fainting of Gabrielle;" "Henry IV. meeting Tully

Wounded;" "Henry IV. before Paris."

An odd Jerusalem chest, also in this room, is the admiration of

strangers. It is made of walnut, inlaid with ivory, and was brought

from Jerusalem, and purchased at Malta in 1838.

A bath-room of red marble of the Pyrenees is attached to these

apartments, from which we ascend to the second story.

Here are large rooms much in the same style as the others, yet not

quite so elaborate. In 1848, Abd-el-Kadir and his numerous family

occupied this suite. An interesting model of the old chateau is

here shown, executed by a poor man named Saget, who presented it to

the Orleans family at a very low price, hoping, no doubt, another

recompense, which he never received.

A room whose tapestry is devoted to Psyche leads us to a chamber

which formed part of the apartment of Jeanne d'Albret, where it is

said Henry IV. was born, and where his cradle is still preserved.

The bed that Jeanne d'Albret occupied ordinarily is in the room

adjoining, and a quainter piece of architecture cannot be imagined.

It is of oak, richly carved, covered and mounted by a sleeping

warrior and an owl, emblems of sleep and night. In the inner portion,

towards the wall, is the Virgin, on one side, holding the infant

Jesus, and an Evangelist on the other. Very rich cornices, with lion

heads projecting and the framework of the arms of Béarn, complete

the description. How, without steps, they ever got into those beds

is a mystery; the upper berth of a steamer is easy of access in

comparison, but there we have always steps or underberths that serve

the same purpose.

The cradle of Henry IV. is a single tortoise-shell in its natural

state. It must have been a good-sized tortoise that gave its back to

the honor, but he must have been a very little baby to have slept

in such a couch. The cradle hangs very gracefully, supported by six

cords and flags embroidered in gold, with the arms of France and

Navarre. Above is a crown of laurel, surmounted by a white plume of

ostrich feathers, and underneath all a table covered with a blue

velvet cloth.

The chapel and library are the only remaining objects of interest.

The volumes of the library were presented by the emperor a short time

ago, and they are well selected.

There were formerly two chapels, but the older one has been done away

with. The present one was built in 1849, on the site of the old gate

of the drawbridge. The gate is still preserved, and on it a marble

slab that formerly bore this inscription:

HENRICUS DEI GRATIA

CHRISTIANISSIMUS REX FRANCIÆ

NAVARRÆ TERTIUS

DOMINUS SUPREMUS BEARNI

1592.

The interior of the chapel has lately been restored and repainted. It

is not remarkable for anything, however. The altar-piece is tawdry,

and not in the usual good taste of the chateau.

We left this again for the beautiful park, roamed through it once

more, and I took my last look at the imposing structure I had studied

with so much interest.

I would advise all who visit Europe to see Pau and the Pyrenees.

Those who do so will certainly say with me that, had they crossed the

ocean for nothing else, they would have been more than compensated.

ST. MARY MAGDALEN.

The winds of autumn whisper back soft sighing

To the low breathing of the Magdalen;

She on her couch of withered leaves is lying--

Dreams she of days that come not back again?

No--past and present both within her dying,

Her earnest eyes upon the page remain;

While the long golden hair, behind her flying,

No more is bound with ornament and chain.

The storm may gather, but she doth not heed;

Nature's wild music enters not her ears;

Her soul, that for her Saviour's woes doth bleed,

One only voice for ever sounding hears:

"Follow his footsteps who thy sins hath borne,

And who for thee the thorny crown hath worn."

MEMOIR OF FATHER JOHN DE BRÉBEUF, S.J.[130]

Among the foremost and most distinguished of the Catholic

missionaries of America stands the name of Father John de Brébeuf,

the founder of the Huron Mission. Normandy has the honor of giving

him birth, and Canada was the field of his splendid and heroic

labors; yet the mission of which he was the great promoter was the

prelude to, and was intimately connected with, subsequent missions

in our own country; and at the time of his glorious death, his

heaven-directed gaze was eagerly and zealously turned towards the

country of our own fierce Iroquois, the inhabitants of Northern New

York, amongst whom he ardently longed to plant the cross of the

Christian missions. His labors and those of his companions opened the

northwestern portions of our country, and the great Valley of the

Mississippi, to Christianity and civilization, and the discoveries

and explorations which followed were partly the fruits of his and

their exalted ministry and enlightened enterprise; for, as Bancroft

says, "the history of their labors is connected with the origin of

every celebrated town in the annals of French America; not a cape

was turned, not a river entered, but a Jesuit led the way." His fame

and achievements belong to all America, indeed, more truly, to all

Christendom. Saint, hero, and martyr as he was, his merits are a part

of the heritage of the universal church; and while his relics are

venerated on earth, and even the enemies of our religion accord to

him the most exalted praise, Catholics may, with the eye of faith,

behold him in that glorious and noble band of martyrs in heaven,

decked in resplendent garments of red, dyed in their own blood,

passing and repassing eternally, in adoration and thanksgiving,

before the throne of him who was the Prince of Martyrs.

"It hath not perished from the earth, that spirit brave and high,

That nerved the martyr saints of old with dauntless love to die.

In the far West, where, in his pride, the stoic Indian dies;

Where Afric's dark-skinned children dwell, 'neath burning tropic

skies;

'Mid Northern snows, and wheresoe'er yet Christian feet have trod,

Brave men have suffered unto death, as witnesses for God."

While historians outside of the Catholic Church have marvelled at

such extraordinary virtues and unparalleled achievements as have

been displayed, not alone by a Xavier, but by the missionaries of

our own land, and have extolled them as an honor to human nature,

Catholics may be excused for regarding them as miracles of the faith,

triumphs of the church, and martyrs of religion. It seems strange

that the general historians of the church have bestowed so little

notice upon the planting and propagation of the faith in America. The

history of these events presents to our admiration characters the

most noble, deeds the most heroic, virtues the most saintly, lives

the most admirable, and deaths the most glorious. While the church

of America, in our day, counts her children by millions, what more

inspiring lesson could she place before their eyes than the history

of her early days, when her priests and missionaries were confessors

and martyrs? Of these was the subject of the present memoir.

John de Brébeuf was born in the diocese of Bayeux, in Normandy, March

25, 1593, of a noble family, said to be the same that gave origin to

the illustrious and truly Catholic house of the English Arundels.

He resolved to dedicate himself to the service of God in the holy

ministry, and, with this view, entered the novitiate of the Society

of Jesus, at Rouen, October 5, 1617. Having completed his noviceship,

he entered upon his theological studies. He received subdeacon's

orders at Lisseux, and those of deacon at Bayeux, in September, 1621;

was ordained a priest during the Lent of 1622, and offered up the

holy sacrifice of the Mass for the first time on Lady-day of the same

year. He was, though of the youngest, one of the most zealous and

devoted priests of his order, and, from the time that he consecrated

himself to religion, was given to daily austerities and rigorous

self-mortifications.

Catching the spirit of his divine Master, Father Brébeuf conceived an

ardent thirst for the salvation of souls, and the foreign missions

became the object of his most fervent desire. This chosen field

was soon opened to his intrepid and heroic labors. When Father Le

Caron, the Recollect missionary in Canada, asked for the assistance

of the Jesuits in his arduous undertaking of conquering to Christ

the savage tribes of North America, Fathers John de Brébeuf, Charles

Lallemant, and Evremond Massé, themselves all eager for the task,

were selected by their superiors for the mission. These apostolic

men sailed from Dieppe, April 26, 1625, and reached Quebec after a

prosperous voyage. The reception they at first met was enough to have

appalled any hearts less resolute and inspired from above than were

the hearts of Father Brébeuf and his companions. The Recollects, a

branch of the Franciscan Order, who, through Father Le Caron, had

invited them over, had received at their convent on the river St.

Charles no tidings of their arrival; Champlain, ever friendly to

the missionaries of the faith, was absent; Caen, the Calvinist,

then at the head of the fur-trading monopoly of New France, refused

them shelter in the fort; and the private traders at Quebec closed

their doors against them. To perish in the wilderness, or to return

to France from the inhospitable shores of the New World, was the

only alternative before them. At this juncture the good Recollects,

hearing of their arrival and destitution, hastened from their

convent in their boat, and received the outcast sons of Loyola with

every demonstration of joy and hospitality, and carried them to

the convent. It is unaccountable how Parkman, in his _Pioneers of

France in the New World_, in the face of these facts, related by

himself in common with historians generally, should charge against

the Recollects that they "entertained a lurking jealousy of these

formidable fellow-laborers," as he calls the Jesuits; who, on the

contrary, were the chosen companions of the Recollects, were invited

to share their labors, and with whom they prosecuted with "one heart

and one mind" the glorious work of the missions. The sons of St.

Francis and St. Ignatius united at once in administering to the

spiritual necessities of the French at Quebec, and the latter, by

their heroic labors and sacrifices, soon overcame the prejudice of

their enemies.

From his transient home at Quebec, Father Brébeuf watched for an

opportunity of advancing to the field of his mission among the

Indians. The first opportunity that presented itself was the proposed

descent of Father Viel to Three Rivers, in order to make a retreat,

and attend to some necessary business of the mission. Father Brébeuf,

accompanied by the Recollect Joseph de la Roche Dallion, lost no

time in repairing to the trading post to meet the father, return

with him and the expected annual flotilla of trading canoes from the

Huron country, and commence his coveted work among the Wyandots. But

he arrived only to hear that Father Viel had gained the crown of

martyrdom, together with a little Christian boy, whom their Indian

conductor, as his canoe shot across the last dangerous rapids in

the river Des Prairies, behind Montreal, seized and threw into the

foaming torrent together, by which they were swept immediately into

the seething gulf below, never to rise again. Neither the death of

Father Viel, nor his own ignorance of the Huron language, appalled

the brave heart of Father Brébeuf, who, when the flotilla came

down, begged to be taken back as a passenger to the Huron country;

but the refusal of the Indians to receive him compelled him to

return to Quebec. On the twentieth of July, 1625, he went among the

Montagnais, with whom he wintered, and, for five months, suffered all

the rigors of the climate, in a mere bark-cabin, in which he had to

endure both smoke and filth, the inevitable penalties of accepting

savage hospitality. Besides this, his encampment was shifted with

the ever-varying chase, and it was only his zeal that enabled him,

amid incessant changes and distractions, to learn much of the Indian

language, for the acquisition of the various dialects of which, as

well as for his aptitude in accommodating himself to Indian life

and manners, he was singularly gifted. On the twenty-seventh of

March following, he returned to Quebec, and resumed, in union with

the Recollects, the care of the French settlers. The Jesuits and

Recollects, moving together in perfect unison, went alternately from

Quebec to the Recollect convent and Jesuit residence, on a small

river called St. Charles, not far from the city.

The colony of the Jesuit fathers was soon increased by the arrival of

Fathers Noirot and De la Nouë, with twenty laborers, and they were

thus enabled to build a residence for themselves--the mother house

and headquarters of these valiant soldiers of the cross in their

long and eventful struggle with paganism and superstition among the

Indians. Father Brébeuf and his companions now devoted their labors

to the French at Quebec, then numbering only forty-three, hearing

confessions, preaching, and studying the Indian languages. They also

bestowed considerable attention on the cultivation of the soil. But

these labors were but preparatory for others more arduous, but more

attractive to them.

In 1626, the Huron mission was again attempted by Father Brébeuf.

He, together with Father Joseph de la Roche Dallion and the Jesuit

Anne de Nouë, was sent to Three Rivers, to attempt a passage to the

Huron country. When the Indian flotilla arrived at Three Rivers,

the Hurons were ready to receive Father de la Roche on board, but

being unaccustomed to the Jesuit habit, and objecting, or pretending

to object, to the portly frame of Father Brébeuf, they refused

a passage to him and his companion, Father Nouë. At last, some

presents secured a place in the flotilla for the two Jesuits. The

missionaries, after a painful voyage, arrived at St. Gabriel, or La

Rochelle, in the Huron country, and took up the mission which the

Recollects Le Caron and Viel had so nobly pioneered.

The Hurons, whose proper name was Wendat, or Wyandot, were a powerful

tribe, numbering at least thirty thousand souls, living in eighteen

villages scattered over a small strip of land on a peninsula in

the southern extremity of the Georgian Bay. Other tribes, kindred

to them, stretched through New York and into the continent as far

south as the Carolinas. Their towns were well built and strongly

defended, and they were good tillers of the soil, active traders,

and brave warriors. They were, however, behind their neighbors in

their domestic life and in their styles of dress, which for both

sexes were exceedingly immodest. Their objects of worship were one

supreme deity, called the Master of Life, to whom they offered

human sacrifices, and an infinite number of inferior deities, or

rather fiends, inhabiting rivers, cataracts, or other natural

objects, riding on the storms, or living in some animal or plant,

and whom they propitiated with tobacco. Father Brébeuf had acquired

sufficient knowledge of their language to make himself understood

by the natives, and he was greatly assisted by the instructions and

manuscripts of Fathers Le Caron and Viel. Father Nouë, being unable

to acquire the language, by reason of his great age and defective

memory, returned to Quebec in 1627, and was followed the next year

by Father de la Roche, who had made a brave but unsuccessful effort

to plant the cross among the Attiarandaronk, or Neutrals. The

undaunted Brébeuf was thus in 1629 left alone among the Hurons. He

soon won their confidence and respect, and was adopted into the

tribe by the name of _Echon_. Though few conversions rewarded his

labors among them during his three years' residence, still he was

amply compensated by his success in gaining their hearts, acquiring

their language, and thoroughly understanding their character and

manners. So completely had he gained the good-will of the Hurons,

that, when he was about to return in 1629 to Quebec, whither his

superior had recalled him, in consequence of the distress prevailing

in the colony, the Indians crowded around him to prevent him from

entering the canoes, and addressed him in this touching language;

"What! Echon, dost thou leave us? Thou hast been here now three

years, to learn our language, to teach us to know thy God, to adore

and serve him, having come but for that end, as thou hast shown; and

now, when thou knowest our language more perfectly than any other

Frenchman, thou leavest us. If we do not know the God thou adorest,

we shall call him to witness that it is not our fault, but thine,

to leave us so." Deeply as he felt this appeal, the Jesuit could

know no other voice when his superior spoke; and having given every

encouragement to those who were well disposed toward the faith,

and explained why he should go when his superior required it, he

embarked on the flotilla of twelve canoes, and reached Quebec on the

seventeenth of July, 1629. Three days after his arrival at Quebec,

that port was captured by the English under the traitor Kirk, who

bore the deepest hatred toward the Jesuits, whose residence he would

have fired upon could he have brought his vessel near enough for his

cannon to bear upon it. He pillaged it, however, compelling the

fathers to abandon it and fly for safety to Tadoussac. But Father

Brébeuf and his companions were, together with Champlain, detained

as prisoners. Amongst the followers of Kirk was one Michel, a bitter

and relentless Huguenot, who was by his temperament and infirmities

prone to violence, and who vented his rage especially against the

Jesuits. He and the no less bigoted Kirk found in Father Brébeuf an

intrepid defender of his order and of his companions against their

foul calumnies, while at the same time his noble character showed how

well it was trained to the practice of Christian humility and charity.

On the occasion here particularly alluded to, Kirk was conversing

with the fathers, who were then his prisoners, and, with a malignant

expression, said:

"Gentlemen, your business in Canada was to enjoy what belonged to M.

de Caen, whom you dispossessed."

"Pardon me, sir," answered Father Brébeuf, "we came purely for the

glory of God, and exposed ourselves to every kind of danger to

convert the Indians."

Here Michel broke in: "Ay, ay, convert the Indians! You mean, convert

the _beaver_!"

Father Brébeuf, conscious of his own and his companion's innocence,

and deeming the occasion one which required at his hands a full and

unqualified denial, solemnly and deliberately answered:

"That is false!"

The infuriated Michel, raising his fist at his prisoner in a

threatening manner, exclaimed:

"But for the respect I owe the general, I would strike you for giving

me the lie."

Father Brébeuf, who possessed a powerful frame and commanding figure,

stood unmoved and unruffled. But he did not rely upon these qualities

of the man, though he knew no fear, but illustrated by his example

on this as on every other occasion the virtues of a Christian and a

minister of peace. With a humility and charity that showed how well

the strong and naturally impulsive man had subdued his passions,

he endeavored to appease the anger of his assailant by an apology,

which, while it was justly calculated to remove all cause of offence,

was accompanied with a solemn vindication of himself and companions

from the unjust imputation just cast upon them. He said:

"You must excuse me. I did not mean to give you the lie. I should be

very sorry to do so. The words I used are those we use in the schools

when a doubtful question is advanced, and they mean no offence.

Therefore, I ask you to pardon me."

"Bon Dieu," said Champlain, "you swear well for a reformer!"

"I knew it," replied Michel; "I should be content if I had struck

that Jesuit who gave me the lie before my general."

The unfortunate Michel continued in this way unceasingly to rave over

the pretended insult, which no apologies could obliterate. He died

shortly afterward in one of his paroxysms of fury, and was interred

under the rocks of Tadoussac. It was not permitted to him to execute

his threatened vengeance on the Jesuit, whom he was the first to

insult, and whom he never forgave, though himself forgiven.

Father Brébeuf, together with the truly great and Catholic Champlain,

the governor of Quebec, and with the other missionaries, were carried

prisoners to England, whence they all made their way to France.

Sad at this interruption of their work of love among the benighted

sons of the Western wilds, the missionaries did not despair, but only

awaited the restoration of Canada to France in order to resume their

labors. In the volume of his travels published by Champlain in 1632,

is embraced the treatise on the Huron language which Father Brébeuf

had prepared during his three years' residence with that tribe, and

which, in our own times, has been republished in the _Transactions of

the American Antiquarian Society_, as a most precious contribution to

learning.

The English government disavowed the conduct of Kirk, and Canada was

restored to France during the year 1632. As the conversion of the

native tribes was ever one of the leading features in the policy of

Catholic statesmen in the colonization of this continent, it was

determined to renew the missions which we have seen interrupted. In

selecting missionaries for this task, the choice fell not upon the

Jesuits, nor the Recollects, as might have been expected, but upon

the Capuchins; and it was only when these good fathers represented

to Cardinal Richelieu that the Jesuits had already been laboring

with fidelity and success in that vineyard, and requested that the

missions might be again confided to them, that Fathers Paul Lejeune

and Anne de Nouë, with a lay brother, were sent out in 1632. They

arrived at Tadoussac on the twelfth of July. It soon became Father

Brébeuf's great privilege and happiness to follow them. On the

twenty-second of May, 1633, to the great joy of Quebec, Champlain

returned to resume his sway in Canada, and Father Brébeuf accompanied

him together with Fathers Massé, Daniel, and Devost. Though Father

Brébeuf was not inactive about Quebec, still his heart longed for

the Huron homes and council-fires, and still more for Huron souls.

Shortly afterward, he had the consolation of beholding the faithful

Louis Amantacha, a Christian Huron, arriving at Quebec, followed by

the usual Indian flotilla of canoes. A council was held, sixty chiefs

sat in a circle round the council-fire, and the noble Champlain, the

intrepid Brébeuf, and the zealous Lallemant, stood in their midst. A

treaty of friendship was concluded between the French and the Hurons,

and, in confiding the missionaries to his new allies, Champlain

thus addressed the latter: "These we consider as fathers, these are

dearer to us than life. Think not that they have left France under

pressure of want; no, they were there in high esteem: they come not

to gather up your furs, but to open to you the doors of eternal life.

If you love the French, as you say you love them, then love and

honor these our fathers." This address was responded to by two of

the chiefs, who were followed by Father Brébeuf in his broken Huron,

"the assembly jerking in unison, from the bottom of their throats,

repeated ejaculations of applause." The members of the council then

crowded round him, each claiming the privilege of carrying him in his

canoe. And the Indians from the different towns began now to contend

among themselves for the honor of possessing Father Brébeuf for

their respective settlements. The contest was soon decided in favor

of Rochelle, the most populous of the Huron villages. On the eighth

of August, the effects of Father Brébeuf and of his companions,

Fathers Daniel and Devost, were already on board the canoes, when

another more serious difficulty arose: an Indian murderer had been

arrested by order of Champlain, in consequence of which an enraged

Algonquin chief declared that no Frenchman should enter the flotilla.

The Hurons were ready and anxious to convey the fathers, but they

feared the consequences of a rupture with the Algonquins. The fathers

were thus constrained, to the common sorrow of themselves and their

Hurons, to behold the flotilla depart without them. But the last

scene in this separation was yet more touching. The faithful and

pious Louis Amantacha, overwhelmed with sorrow at the loss of the

fathers, lingered in their company to the last moment, humbly made

his confession, and, for the last time for him, this Christian

warrior received the holy communion from the hands of Father Brébeuf.

Then, having rejoined his companions, the flotilla quickly glided

from the view of those who would have laid down their lives to save

the souls of those benighted and thoughtless voyagers.

Father Brébeuf and his companions returned to labor for a time longer

among the French and Indians in and about Quebec, where their labors

were full of zeal and not without success. It was here that Father

Brébeuf baptized Sasousmat, the first adult upon whom he conferred

that sacrament. While in health, Sasousmat had requested that he

might be sent to France for instruction in the faith, but he was

now overtaken by a dreadful illness, which deprived him of reason.

Father Brébeuf visited him while in this state, and, returning from

his couch to the altar, he offered up for his benefit the holy

sacrifice of the Mass in honor of St. Joseph, the glorious patron

of the country; his prayer of sacrifice was heard in heaven, and

Sasousmat was restored to his mind. Father Brébeuf then instructed

him, and the joyful neophyte ardently and touchingly entreated the

father to baptize him. But the cautious and conscientious priest

deferred the sacrament, to the astonishment of the Indians, whose

habit was to refuse nothing to the sick. One of Sasousmat's Indian

friends said to the father, with great impatience: "Thou hast no

sense; pour a little water on him, and it is done." "No," replied the

priest of God, "I would involve myself in ruin were I to baptize,

without necessity, an infidel and unbeliever not fully instructed."

The patient was afterwards removed to the residence of Notre Dame des

Anges, where he continued to receive the instructions of the father,

and where he grew desperately ill, and was finally in an hour of

danger baptized. At the moment of his decease, a resplendent meteoric

light illumined the death-room, and shone far around about the

country. There was afterwards another adult, named Nassé, a steadfast

friend of the missionaries, who fell dangerously ill, and was nursed

by Father Brébeuf. He too made earnest entreaties to be baptized,

but the father subjected the convert to long delays and probations,

and finally only bestowed the sacrament when death was imminent.

Instances are related in which baptism was refused to adults, even

_in extremis_, where the requisite dispositions were wanting. Such

examples, of which there are not a few recorded in the Jesuit

_Relations_, besides exhibiting the zeal and self-sacrificing labors

of the Catholic missionaries for the salvation of souls, furnish us

with a complete refutation of the wanton calumny that those early

missionary priests were in the habit of bestowing the sacrament

upon entire multitudes of savages without previous instruction or

probation--a calumny now fully refuted by the _Relations_ and letters

of the fathers themselves, who, while they penned the humble story

of their labors, to be transmitted to their superiors in Europe, knew

not that the same would serve as evidence for their own vindication.

With the return of spring, the time again drew near for the

appearance of the usual flotilla of Indian canoes at the trading

post of Three Rivers. On the 1st of July, Fathers Brébeuf and Daniel

repaired to Three Rivers, to procure a passage in the flotilla for

the Huron country, and Father Devost joined them in a few days.

But the canoes were slow in coming in; the Hurons had sustained a

terrific defeat, losing two hundred braves, and the gallant Christian

warrior Louis Amantacha was among the slain. No sooner, however,

had a few canoes arrived, than Father Brébeuf pressed forward to

secure a passage; but the hostile Algonquin and the cautious Huron

discovered innumerable obstacles in the way of his going with them,

and it seemed that he was again to be disappointed in his hopes of

reaching his beloved mission. At length, by the influence of the

French commanders, which was supported as usual by presents, it was

arranged that a passage should be given to one missionary and two

men, and even then Father Brébeuf was left out. He thus describes

his difficulties: "Never did I see voyage so hampered and traversed

by the common enemy of man. It was by a stroke of heaven that we

advanced, and an effect of the power of the glorious St. Joseph,

in whose honor God inspired me to promise twenty masses, in the

despair of all things." At the moment that this vow was made, a

Huron, who had agreed to carry one of the Frenchmen in his canoe,

was suddenly inspired to take Father Brébeuf in his stead. Thus a

passage was secured. But such were the hurry, confusion, and want

of accommodation, that the missionaries were compelled to leave

behind them all their effects, except such as were necessary for

saying Mass. Too glad to be admitted into this vineyard which they

had so long sought, they cheerfully made every sacrifice. With

light and joyous hearts and ready hands, they plied the oar from

morning till night; they recited the sacred office by the evening

fire; they nursed all who fell sick on the voyage with so much

charity and tenderness as to melt the hearts of those savage sons

of the wilderness; at fifty different points, where the passage was

dangerous or obstructed, they volunteered to carry the packages, and

even the canoes, on their shoulders around the portages; and at one

place Father Brébeuf barely escaped a watery grave at a rapid where

his canoe was hurried over the impetuous current. At length, after

much suffering, they reached the shores of the Huron country on the

5th of August, 1634.

The following description of this remarkable journey of the fathers

is from the eloquent and graphic, but not always impartial, pages of

Parkman's _Jesuits in North America_:

"They reckoned the distance at nine hundred miles; but

distance was the least repellant 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

Devost were doomed to a silence unbroken save by the

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 and 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, encumbered with

rocks and logs, tangled with roots and underbrush, damp

with perpetual shade, and redolent of decayed leaves

and mouldering wood. 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.

"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."

But Father Brébeuf's trials did not end here, for the ungrateful

Indians, who lived twenty miles below Father Brébeuf's destination,

forgetting all his kindness and sacrifices and despising his

entreaties, abandoned him on this desolate shore. In this distress,

he fell upon his knees and thanked God for all his favors, and

especially for bringing him again into the country of the Hurons.

Beseeching Providence to guide his steps, and saluting the guardian

angel of the land with a dedication of himself to the conversion of

those tribes, he took only such articles as he could in no event

dispense with, and, concealing the rest, started forth in that vast

wilderness, not knowing whither his steps might carry him. Providence

guided those steps: he discovered the site of the former village,

Toanché, in which he had resided three years, and even the blackened

ruins of his cabin, in which, for the same time, he had offered up

the Holy Sacrifice; but the village was destroyed and the encampment

shifted to another place. Striking upon a trail, he advanced full of

hope, and soon he suddenly stood in the midst of his Huron friends,

in their new village of Ihonatiria. A shout of welcome from a hundred

voices--"Echon! Echon!"--greeted the joyous messenger of salvation.

He immediately threw himself upon the hospitality of the generous

chief, Awandoay, from whom he obtained men to go for his packages;

he retraced his weary steps with them, and it was one o'clock in the

morning before all was safely lodged in the village of Ihonatiria.

The other fathers, after suffering similar ill-treatment from the

Indians of the flotilla in whose canoes they came, finally found

their way also, one by one, to Ihonatiria, in great distress.

For some time they partook of the liberal hospitality of Awandoay;

but, Father Brébeuf having decided to make Ihonatiria the mission

headquarters, they now constructed a residence for themselves,

thirty-six by twenty-one feet, in which the centre was their

hall, parlor, and business-room, leading, on the one side, to the

chapel, and, on the other, to what was at the same time kitchen,

refectory, and dormitory. This rude hut--indeed, everything about

the missionaries--awakened the amazement of these simple sons of

the forest. They came in crowds from all parts of the Huron country

to see the wonderful things possessed by the fathers, the fame of

which had spread through the land. There was the mill for grinding

corn, which they viewed with admiration, and which they delighted to

turn without ceasing. There were a prism and magnet, whose qualities

struck them with surprise and pleasure. There was a magnifying-glass

which, to their amazement, made a flea as large as a monster; and a

multiplying lens which possessed the mysterious power of creating

instantly eleven beads out of one. But the clock, which hung on the

wall of the missionary cabin, was to these untutored savages the

greatest miracle of all. The assembled warriors, with their wives

and children, would sit in silence on the ground, waiting an entire

hour for the clock to strike the time of the day. They listened to

it ticking every second and marking every minute of the twenty-four

hours; they thought it was a thing of life; inquired when, how,

and upon what it fed. They called it sometimes the "Day Chief" and

sometimes the "Captain," and expressed their awe of so mysterious and

supernatural a being by the constant cry of "Ondaki! Ondaki!!" "What

does the Captain say now?" was the repeated question. The fathers

were obliged to establish certain regulations for visitors, whose

presence would have left them no time for rest or devotion during the

twenty-four hours, while, at the same time, they availed themselves

of these curiosities for attracting the Indians to the mission cross

before their door and to the first simple lessons in religion. They

thus interpreted the strokes of the clock: "When he strikes twelve

times, he says, 'Hang on the kettle,' and when he strikes four times,

he says, 'Get up and go home.'" The Indians rigidly obeyed these

commands of the little "Day Chief." The crowd was densest at the

stroke of twelve, when the kettle was hung and the fathers' sagamite

passed around; and at the stroke of four, all arose at once and

departed, leaving their good entertainers to say their office and

rosary, study and make notes on the Huron language, write letters

to their superiors, and consult over the plans for conducting the

mission. The fathers also gave some lessons to their Huron friends

on the subject of self-defence and military engineering. The Hurons,

living in constant dread of the Iroquois, were glad to learn a more

perfect way of constructing their palisade forts, which they had been

accustomed to make round, but which the Frenchmen now taught them

to make rectangular, with small flanking towers at the corners for

the arquebusmen. And, in case of actual attack, the aid of the four

Frenchmen, armed with arquebuses, who had come with the missionaries

from Three Rivers, was promised, to enable them to defend their

wives, children, and homes from the unsparing attacks of their

relentless enemies.

The Indian children were the especial objects of the solicitude of

these untiring missionaries. They assembled these frequently at their

house, on which occasions Father Brébeuf, the more effectually

to inspire respect, appeared in surplice and baretta. The _Pater

Noster_ was chanted in Huron rhyme, into which it had been translated

by Father Daniel; and the _Ave_ and _Credo_ and Ten Commandments

were recited. The children were examined in their past lessons, and

instructed in new ones, and then dismissed joyously with presents of

beads and dried fruits. Soon the village resounded with the rhymes of

the _Pater Noster_, and the little catechumens vied with each other

at home in making the sign of the cross and reciting the commandments.

To the adults the fathers earnestly announced Christ crucified,

and endeavored to turn their admiration from the clock and other

curiosities of the mission house, which, as they said, were but

creatures, to the Creator, to heaven, and to the faith. The

first-fruits of the mission were soon gathered; several infants, in

danger of death, were baptized, and several adults were also admitted

into the Christian church through the same regenerating waters.

But the enemies of religion and of truth were jealously watching

these successes, and soon the fathers encountered the same opposition

that always besets the introduction of Christianity into heathen

nations; that is, the jealousy and hatred of the native priests, or

officials entrusted with the matters of religion or the superstitious

rites of the country. These, among our American tribes, were the

medicine men. These wicked sorcerers accused Father Brébeuf and

his companions of causing the drought, of blighting the crops, of

introducing the plague, in fine, of every evil that afflicted the

country or any of the people. The missionaries began to be insulted,

the cross before their residence was turned into a target, and

curses and imprecations greeted them on every side. But the prayers

of the fathers, and especially a novena of masses in honor of St.

Joseph, were soon followed by copious rains, and the medicine-men

were confounded, while the fathers were received with honor and

esteem. The old and young were instructed in the faith, catechetical

classes were opened, and all ages and conditions took pleasure

in contending for the pictures, medals, and other little rewards

which were bestowed upon the studious. On Sundays, the Indians

were assembled at Mass; but, in imitation of the custom which

prevailed in the early church, Father Brébeuf dismissed them at the

offertory, after reciting for them the prayers they had learned. In

the afternoon, catechetical instructions were given, and all were

examined on what they had learned during the week. In August, 1635,

Fathers Pijart and Mercier, then recently arrived from France, came

into the Huron country to join the little missionary band, who were,

even after this increase of their force, kept constantly laboring.

In April, 1636, the missionaries attended the "feast of the dead,"

a great solemnity of the Indians, when the bones of their dead are

taken down from their aerial tombs, and, being wrapped in the richest

furs, and surrounded with various implements, are deposited in the

common mound, amid the songs, games, and dancing of the living.

Father Brébeuf, the courageous champion of the faith, seized upon

this occasion to announce the saving word of truth in the very midst

of the ancient and most cherished rites of a heathen superstition.

He declared that such ceremonies were utterly vain and fruitless

for souls which, like the souls of all in that mound, were lost for

ever; that souls on death went either to a realm of bliss or a world

of woe; that the living alone could choose, and, if they preferred

the former, he and the other fathers were there to show the way.

This speech was accompanied with a present to the assembled chiefs,

a means most effectual in gaining the good-will of the Indians.

The latter offered no opposition to the baptism of their infants,

and expressed themselves as if well disposed towards the faith

preached by the fathers. In December, the mission among the Hurons

was formally consecrated to the Immaculate Conception. Baptism was

administered to nearly thirty of the tribe, amongst whom was one, a

little girl, of singular interest, named Mary Conception. This little

child was remarkable for her love of prayer and her fondness for the

missionaries and whatever pertained to religion; she ran as gaily to

catechism as the other children to their play, and took a singular

pleasure in walking beside the missionary as he was reciting his

office, making the sign of the cross and praying louder whenever he

turned in his walk. In 1635, fourteen baptisms were reported by the

fathers, and in July, 1636, eighty-six, amongst whom was the chief,

who was sincerely converted to the faith. Father Brébeuf made many

excursions to distant villages and families. In October, he visited

the family of Louis de Sainte Foi, who, having been taken to France

by the fathers, was baptized at Rouen, but was now grown cold in his

religion. This visit, in which Father Brébeuf was accompanied by

Father Pijart, rekindled the ardor of the chief, and was the occasion

of announcing the commandments of God to all his family. Devotion to

the Blessed Virgin, appealing as it does to the best natural feelings

of the human heart, as well as to the highest and purest motives of

religion, was easily received, especially among the Indian mothers,

to whom she was proposed for imitation by Father Brébeuf. He composed

for them, and in their own language, beautiful prayers of invocation

to the Mother of God. So great was his proficiency in the Huron

language, that he was able to attach to his relation of this year a

treatise on the language and another on the customs of the Hurons,

the former of which has been published in English.

It was about this time that a delegation of Algonquin braves came to

solicit the alliance of the Hurons against the Iroquois. Failing to

secure their point with the Hurons, the Algonquins next turned to

the missionaries and endeavored to detach them from the Hurons, and

offered, as an inducement to Father Brébeuf, to make him one of their

great chiefs. Father Brébeuf, with a smile, replied, that he had left

home and fortune to gain souls, not to become rich or to gain honors

in war, and dismissed the negotiators as usual with a present.

The removal of the headquarters of the mission from Ihonatiria to

Ossossané had been several times mooted; one day, as Father Brébeuf

was travelling to visit a sick Christian, he was met by the chief

of Ossossané, who so forcibly urged the change that Father Brébeuf

was induced to promise them a compliance with what had been in fact

his previous design. A promise was readily made on the other side

that the villagers of Ossossané would the following year erect

the necessary accommodations for the fathers. When the people of

Ihonatiria heard this, their chief, at daybreak, from the top of his

cabin summoned all his people out to rebuild the cabin of the black

gown. Old and young now went forth to obey the summons, and soon

the work was completed. When the next season for the feast of the

dead came round, a great change was observable in its celebration,

a proof of the influence of Christian sentiments with the people.

The accustomed magnificence was dispensed with, and those who died

Christians were not reburied, even in a separate portion of the

common tomb. The ceremony consisted in nothing more than a touching

manifestation of the affection of the living for their deceased

friends, and the missionaries were too prudent to interfere. In

order to show how earnest our missionaries were for the conversion

of these tribes, it is worth recording that they established a Huron

seminary at Quebec, and during this year Fathers Daniel and Devost

departed from Huronia for Quebec, with several young Hurons destined

for students in this institution. It was also during this year that

Fathers Garnier, Chastelain, and Jogues arrived from France, and

entered this promising vineyard.

Shortly after these arrivals, a contagious fever broke out in the

Huron country, and several of the missionaries were seized with the

malady. It would be impossible, within the space allotted to this

memoir, to detail all their sufferings and privations. The hardy

Brébeuf and the others that were not taken down, became the faithful

and constant nurses of their sick companions, and, when these were

restored, the entire missionary band dedicated themselves to the

nursing and spiritual succor of the afflicted people. Here, again,

the fathers met with the usual obstacles and annoyances from the

native sorcerers. The medicine-men, in whom the Indians had implicit

confidence, especially in sickness, resorted to their usual tricks,

and the villages resounded with horrid superstitious orgies. Many

refused to let the fathers baptize their dying infants. Others,

however, having seen the utter failure of their sorcerers to effect

a single cure, and having observed how the Christian baptism was

frequently followed by a restoration of the body also to health, had

recourse to the missionaries. But in such cases their visits of mercy

were obstructed by the insults, the threats, and ill-usage of the

excited rabble. But, as Bancroft remarks, "the Jesuit never receded a

foot." He pressed forward with love and courage, frequently forcing

his way to the couch of the dying, and encountering threatened death

to save a single soul. In order to propitiate the mercy of Heaven

for this afflicted people, Father Brébeuf assembled a council of the

chiefs of several villages, and succeeded so far as to induce them,

in behalf of themselves and their people, to promise solemnly, in

the presence of God, that they would renounce their superstitions,

embrace the faith of Jesus Christ, conform their marriages to the

Christian standard, and build chapels for the service of the one true

God. With the solemnity of this scene, however, passed away also

their good resolutions. The Indian, ever inconsistent, except in

his attachment to his idols and his hunting-grounds, was soon again

seen raving at the frenzied words and incantations of the sorcerer

Tonnerananont, who professed himself to be a devil incarnate. The

plague continued to rage; not even the frosts of winter arrested its

destructive powers. Night and day Father Brébeuf and his companions

were travelling and laboring for those miserable and inconstant

savages. They went about over the country administering remedies

for the maladies of the body as well as those of the soul. Besides

relieving many by bleeding and other simple remedies, their heroic

labors were rewarded with other fruits far sweeter to them, the

baptism of two hundred and fifty expiring infants and adults. The

bold and fearless advances and the devoted services of the Jesuit

fathers during this season of disease and death may well have called

forth from Sparks the remark that "humanity can claim no higher

honor than that such examples have existed." In the spring the

pestilence abated, and the usual and regular duties and labors of

the mission were resumed. His superior knowledge of the language

devolved upon Father Brébeuf the greater burthen of instructing and

catechising the natives. In May, he called a council of the chiefs of

Ossossané, and reminded them of their promise to build a cabin for

the fathers. The appeal was responded to, and, on the fifth of June,

Father Pijart offered up the Mass of the Holy Trinity at Ossossané,

in "our own House of the Immaculate Conception." On Trinity Sunday,

another happiness was enjoyed by Father Brébeuf, in the baptism of

the first adult at Ihonatiria. This was Tsiwendaentaha, a chief who

had manifested great perseverance in his wish to become a Christian;

he had repeatedly requested and entreated to be baptized, and had

renounced all connection with the medicine-men for three years, and,

what was remarkable among the natives, had only once during that

time manifested any disposition towards a relapse. After prolonged

probation and careful instruction, Father Brébeuf baptized him on

Trinity Sunday, conferring upon him the Christian name of Peter.

The ceremony was surrounded with as much magnificence as the infant

church in that wilderness could bring, and in the presence of immense

crowds of Hurons. The corner-stone of the new church was laid on the

same occasion.

These consolations of the mission were soon succeeded by direful

calamities. Sickness still lingered in the country. Having failed

by their superstitious rites to ameliorate the condition of the

people, the medicine-men now accused the fathers of being the cause

of the pestilence, and even of having a design of destroying the

country. A general outburst of indignation now assailed the holy

men. Everything connected with them or their religion now became

objects of suspicion--the pictures in the chapel, their mission

flag flying from the top of a tree, the Mass in the morning, the

evening litany, the walk of the missionaries by day, and especially

the clock, were successively condemned as demons, and signals of

pestilence and death. It was even rumored that the fathers concealed

in their cabin a dead body, which they brought from France, and

which was now supposed to be the origin of the infection. Goaded

by their fears, and incited by their sorcerers, the Indians rushed

into the missionary residence to seize the mysterious corpse. As

superior, the principal weight of these persecutions fell upon Father

Brébeuf, who endeavored in vain to dispel such vain fears. The

fathers were insulted and threatened with death in their own house. A

general council of chiefs and warriors was held, in which they were

universally accused of causing all the evils of the country. The

courageous Brébeuf stood in their midst to refute their calumnies

and expose their follies. Nothing could appease them. They offered

to spare Father Brébeuf's life if he would deliver up the fatal

cloth in which he had wrapt the pestilence. He indignantly refused

to countenance their superstitions by compliance, but told them to

search his cabin and burn every cloth if they thought proper. He

told them, however, that since they had pressed him so far, he would

give them his opinion as to the origin of their misfortunes, which

he then went on to trace to natural causes and their own foolish

method of treating the sick, and spoke to them of the power of God

and his justice in rewarding the good and punishing the wicked.

Father Brébeuf concluded his remarks amidst shouts and insults, but

without losing his characteristic courage and calmness. Despite his

unanswerable appeal, the assembly thirsted for the blood of at least

one of the missionaries as an experiment, and at any moment one of

those devoted men might have fallen dead under the hatchet of some

enraged savage. Repeated councils were held, and the death of the

strangers was resolved upon. The residence was burned, the stake

prepared, and Father Brébeuf led forth. Having prepared himself for

death, he now, in imitation of the Huron custom, gave the usual

feast, in order to show that he did not shrink from giving his life

in testimony of the faith he had preached to them. Just before the

moment of his execution arrived, Father Brébeuf was summoned to a

council, where, amid insult and interruption, he delivered another

speech in advocacy of the faith, instead of explaining the plague,

and, by one of those sudden changes of temper not unusual in Indian

assemblies, he was acquitted and set free. As he passed from the

wigwam of the council, he saw one of his greatest persecutors fall

dead at his feet, under a stroke from the murderous tomahawk:

supposing that, in the dim light of a far-spent day, the murderer

had mistaken his victim, the future martyr asked: "Was not that

blow meant for me?" "No," replied the warrior; "pass on: he was a

sorcerer, thou art not." His companions were anxiously awaiting the

result; and when he walked into their midst, they received him as the

dead restored to life. They all united in returning thanks to God for

the safety of the superior of the mission, and especially for the

announcement which that apostolic man made to them, that they might

yet hope to remain in that country, and labor for the salvation of

their persecutors.

The firm and uncompromising character of Father Brébeuf is strikingly

illustrated in contrast with the fickleness of the Indians, the

difference between faith and superstition, by another circumstance

which occurred during the prevalence of the pestilence. The Hurons,

after repeated recourse to their medicine-men, whose vile practices

they now saw to be barren of results, resolved to have recourse to

the fathers, whom they invited to attend a council. "What must we

do that your God may take pity on us?" they asked of the Christian

priests. Father Brébeuf immediately answered: "Believe in him; keep

his commandments; abjure your faith in dreams; take but one wife,

and be true to her; give up your superstitious feasts; renounce your

assemblies of debauchery; eat no human flesh; never give feasts to

demons; and make a vow that, if God will deliver you from this pest,

you will build a chapel to offer him thanksgiving and praise."

In the midst of their sufferings and the persecutions they sustained,

these heroic missionaries ceased not a single moment their labors of

mercy and salvation. Themselves outcast and friendless, they visited

and nursed the sick; repulsed, they pressed forward to the bedside

of the dying; reviled for their religion, they still announced its

saving truths; threatened with death, they bestowed the bread of life

eternal upon others, even while the deadly tomahawk glistened over

their heads. Such was the life the early Catholic missionaries led

upon our borders; such, too, were the labors and sacrifices which

preluded others, equally sublime and heroic, within the territory of

our own republic.

Among the converts of Father Brébeuf at Ossossané was Joseph

Chiwattenwha, a nephew on the maternal side to the head chief of

the Hurons. From the time that he listened to Father Brébeuf's

sermon at the "feast of the dead," he had been an earnest and

regular catechumen. He rejected the prevailing superstitions of his

race, and was remarkable for the purity of his morals, his freedom

from the common Indian vice of gambling, and for his rare conjugal

fidelity. Notwithstanding his virtues, and his repeated requests to

be baptized, Father Brébeuf delayed the sacrament, to make sure of

his thorough conversion, and, finally, only conferred it upon him

in a moment of danger. The chief recovered from his illness, and,

calling all his friends together at a grand banquet, he addressed

them zealously in favor of the faith he had embraced. His faith and

zeal were rewarded by the manifest protection of Heaven over himself

and his family during the prevalence of the fever.

TO BE CONTINUED.

FOOTNOTE:

[130] Authorities: _The Jesuit Relations; History of the Catholic

Missions_, by John G. Shea; _The Pioneers of France in the New

World_, and _The Jesuits in North America_, by Francis Parkman;

Bancroft's _History of the United States_, etc., etc.

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.

OUR LADY OF LOURDES.

BY HENRI LASSERRE.

BOOK EIGHTH.

I.

The appointment by the Bishop of a commission of examination, and

the analysis of M. Filhol, deprived Baron Massy, M. Rouland, and

M. Jacomet of all pretext for continuing violent measures, or for

maintaining about the grotto strict prohibitions, barriers, and

guards.

In justification of the restrictions previously made, it had been

said: "Considering that it is very desirable, _in the interest of

religion_, to put an end to the _deplorable_ scenes now presented at

the grotto of Massabielle." Now the Bishop, by declaring the matter

to be of sufficient importance for his intervention, and by taking in

hand the examination of those things which affected the interests of

religion, had deprived the civil power of this motive which it had

made so prominent.

In justification of the prohibition to go and drink at the spring

which had gushed out under the hand of Bernadette, it had been urged

"that the care of the local public health devolves upon the mayor,"

and that this water "is suspected on good grounds to contain mineral

ingredients, making it prudent, before permitting its use, to wait

for a scientific analysis to determine the applications which may

be made of it in medicine." Now, M. Filhol, by his decision that the

water had no mineral properties, and that it could be drunk without

inconvenience, had annihilated in the name of science and of medicine

this plea of "the public health."

If, then, these considerations had been real reasons for the civil

power, and not merely specious pretexts; if it had really been acting

in the "interests of religion and the public health," instead of

being under the sway of evil passions and intolerance; or if, in a

word, it had been sincere instead of being hypocritical, it would now

have had nothing to do but to remove its prohibitions and barriers;

it would have only had to leave the people perfectly free to drink of

this fountain, the perfect harmlessness of which had been attested by

science, and to recognize their right to kneel at the foot of these

mysterious rocks, where for the future the church was to be on the

watch.

II.

But this was not the case. There was a great obstacle to this course,

so clearly indicated by logic and conscience; namely, pride. Pride

was the ruling spirit from one end of the scale to the other, from

Jacomet up to Rouland, including Baron Massy and the philosophical

coterie. It seemed hard to them to retreat and lay down their arms.

Pride never surrenders. It prefers rather to take an illogical

position than to bow to the authority of reason. Furious, beside

itself, and absurd, it revolts against evidence. Like Satan, it says,

"_Non serviam_." It resists, it refuses to bend, it stiffens its

neck, till suddenly it is broken by some contemptuous and superior

power.

III.

There remained for the official and officious foes of superstition

one last weapon to use, one final struggle to make. Though the

battle seemed to be certainly lost in the Pyrenees, perhaps the

lost position might be regained in Paris, and the favor of public

opinion secured throughout France and Europe, before the cosmopolitan

assemblage of tourists and bathers, returning home, should pass their

severe judgments on the other side. This was tried. A formidable

attack was made by the irreligious press of Paris, the provinces,

and other countries, upon the events at Lourdes and the Bishop's

ordinance.

While the generals of the infidel army engaged in a decisive combat

upon this vast scale, the duty of the Prefect of Hautes-Pyrenees,

like that of Kellerman at Valmy, was to hold at all costs his line of

operation, not to recede a single foot from it, and not to capitulate

on any terms. The intrepidity of Baron Massy was well known, and

it was understood that neither arguments nor the most surprising

miracles would prevail over his invincible firmness. He would stand

by his sinking ship to the last. The absurd had in him an excellent

champion.

The _Journal des Débats_, _Siècle_, _Presse_, _Indépendance Belge_,

and various foreign journals, also came manfully to the rescue. The

smallest newspapers of the smallest countries considered it an honor

to serve in this campaign against the supernatural. We find, in fact,

among the combatants, a microscopic sheet called the _Courant_,

published at Amsterdam.

Some, like the _Presse_, by the pen of M. Guéroult, or the _Siècle_,

by those of MM. Bénard and Jourdan, attacked the very idea of

miracles, declaring that they had had their day, that the discussion

of them was no longer admissible, and to examine into a question

which had already been decided by the light of philosophy was beneath

the dignity of free examen. "Miracles," said M. Guéroult, "belong to

a state of civilization which is almost gone by. Though God does not

change, the conception which men form of him changes from age to age,

according to the prevailing standard of morality and intelligence.

Ignorant nations who do not understand the harmony of the laws by

which the universe is governed imagine that they see continual

exceptions to these laws. They think that God appears and speaks to

them, or sends them a message by his angels, almost daily. But as

society becomes more intelligent and better informed, and as the

sciences based on observation come in to counteract the vagaries of

the imagination, all this mythology disappears. Man does not on that

account become less religious, but more so, though in a different

manner. He does not any longer see gods and goddesses, angels and

demons, face to face; but he seeks to discover the divine will as

manifested in the laws of the world. Miracles, which at certain

periods have been necessary to faith and served to convey the most

important truths, have become in our day the bugbear of all serious

conviction." M. Guéroult declared that, if he should be told that the

most remarkable miracle was occurring close by his house on the Place

de la Concorde, he would not take a step out of his way to see it.

"If such occurrences," added he, "can occupy a place for a time among

the superstitious trumpery of the ignorant masses, they only excite a

smile of contempt among enlightened men, among those whose opinion

is sure to be ultimately adopted by all the world."[131]

Other papers valiantly set to work to distort the facts. Though

also attacking miracles in principle, the _Siècle_, in spite of

the enormous yield of twenty thousand and odd litres a day, still

remained, in its capacity of an enlightened and advanced journal, at

the old thesis of hallucination and infiltration. "It seems difficult

to us," said M. Bénard, very gravely, "to see a miracle in the

hallucination of a little girl of fourteen, or in the oozing out of

some water in a cave."

As for the miraculous cures, they were easily disposed of as follows:

"Hydropathic physicians also claim to effect the most extraordinary

cures by means of pure water, but they have not as yet proclaimed

upon the house-tops that these cures are miracles."[132]

But the most curious example of the good faith of the free-thinkers,

or of their sagacity in examining this matter, is to be found in the

Dutch newspaper which we have mentioned above, and whose weighty

narrative was reproduced by the French journals. Let us see how this

friend of enlightenment enlightened the world by his account of the

matter:

"A new manifestation, designed to excite and promote the fervor of

the faithful in the worship of the Blessed Virgin, was imminent.

The deliberations of the bishops on this point had resulted in the

preparation of the famous miracle of Lourdes. It is well known

that the Bishop of Tarbes appointed a commission of inquiry. The

so-called conclusions of the report of the commission, which is

composed of ecclesiastics and persons in the pay of the clergy, were

prepared long before their first session. _The pretended shepherdess

Bernadette is not an innocent peasant, but a highly cultivated city

girl of a very wily character, who has passed several months in

a convent, where she was taught the part she was to play. There,

before a small audience, rehearsals were made long before the public

performance._ As will be observed, nothing was wanting for the

completeness of this comedy, not even the usual rehearsals. If at

any time there is a scarcity of actors at Paris, the places can be

admirably filled from the ranks of the superior clergy. However, the

liberal press has made the matter thoroughly ridiculous, and it is

not improbable that the clergy, in their own interest, will see the

necessity of being prudent."[133] The information of the journals

seems hardly to have been so accurate as that which secured the

simple faith of His Excellency M. Rouland. The public, it is evident,

were treated with no more respect than the minister. This is too

often the way in which the opinion of those whom M. Guéroult called

in his article "enlightened men," alluding, no doubt, to the torrent

of light thrown upon them by the press, is formed.

Another point of attack besides the actual events and the possibility

of miracles was the ordinance of the Bishop of Tarbes. Philosophy,

in virtue of the infallibility of its dogmas, protested against

examination, scientific study, and experiment. "When some crazy

person sends a paper on perpetual motion or the squaring of the

circle to the Academy of Science, the Academy passes to the order

of the day without wasting time in criticising such lucubrations.

And there is no more need of examination in the case of a supposed

miracle. Philosophy, in the name of reason, passes to the order of

the day. To examine the claims of the supernatural facts would be

to admit their possibility and to deny its own principles. In such

matters, proofs and testimony count for nothing. We do not discuss

the impossible, but dismiss it with a shrug." Such was the central

idea of the thousand varied forms assumed by the fiery and excited

polemics of the irreligious press. Vainly did it persist in denial

and perversion; it was afraid to examine. False theories prefer

to remain in the fluctuation and fog of pure speculation. By some

natural instinct of self-preservation, they fear broad daylight, and

do not dare to descend with a steady foot upon the firm ground of the

experimental method. They perceive that only defeat awaits them there.

In this desperate struggle against the evidence of facts and the

rights of reason, the liberal mask of the _Journal des Débats_

unfortunately fell off, and showed the depth of furious intolerance

concealed under its philosophical exterior. The _Journal des Débats_,

by the pen of M. Prévost-Paradol, was terrified in advance at the

great weight which the report of the commission and the decision of

the Bishop were sure to have, and accordingly appealed to the secular

arm, beseeching Cæsar to put a stop to the whole thing. "It is

evident," said he, "that a striking manifestation of divine power in

favor of a religion makes strongly for its individual truth, for its

superiority over others, and its incontestable right to govern souls.

It is then an event of a nature to produce numerous conversions, both

of dissenters and of infidels; in other words, it is an instrument

of proselytism." He showed also the political importance of the

result of the examination. "If this decision is favorable to the

miracle, it will have a tendency to dissolve in that part of France

the equilibrium now existing between the religious and civil powers.

The ministers of a religion in favor of which such prodigies are

authentically asserted are quite different sort of people from those

which the Concordat provides for. They have a very different sort of

authority over the people, and in case of any collision they exert a

very different kind of influence from that of the council of state

and the prefect."

"We have sufficiently shown," said the writer in the _Débats_,

"the importance which the decision of the episcopal commission at

Tarbes must have in various points of view. Now, there is a truth

here which should be remembered, and of which M. de Morny has just

very properly reminded the council-general at Puy-de-Dôme; that is,

that nothing of importance can legally be done in France without

previous authority from the administration. If, as M. de Morny

very justly remarks, one cannot move a rock or dig a well without

the consent of the administration, still less can one without its

consent authorize a miracle or establish a pilgrimage. Any one

who is concerned with religious matters, and especially with the

opening of churches or schools of dissenting bodies, knows that the

administration has not merely one enactment, but twenty or thirty,

which makes it all-powerful in such cases. The meeting of the

commission of the diocese of Tarbes can be prevented or its session

can be dissolved in a hundred different ways by the Concordat, by the

penal code, by the law of 1824, by the decree of February, 1852, by

the central authority, by the municipal authority, by all conceivable

authorities. The decision of this commission can also be annulled by

the legal opposition of the administrative authority to the erection

of a chapel or to the distribution of the miraculous water. The same

authority can prohibit and break up all meetings of the people, and

prosecute the originators of such meetings, etc." Having arrived

at this point, having notified Cæsar and cried "caveant consules,"

the able writer resumed, for form's sake, his garb of liberalism.

"What is our object," said he hypocritically, "in establishing this

preventive right of the administration? Is it to urge them to use it?

God forbid." And thus he crept, by a sort of secret passage, into the

ranks of the friends of liberty.

The provincial journals echoed the sentiments of those of Paris. The

battle became universal. The sergeants, corporals, and privates of

the literary army pressed forward on the steps of the marshals of

free thought. The _Ere Impériale_ of Tarbes charged its blunderbuss

with arguments from Paris, and fired them off at the supernatural

every other day. The little _Lavedan_, also, had picked up a few

grains of powder, rather dampened, it must be owned, by the water of

the grotto, and did its best, aided, according to report, by Jacomet,

to make its weekly penny-pistol effective.

The _Univers_, the _Union_, and the greater part of the Catholic

papers bravely met their universal attack. Powerful talents lent

themselves to the service of the yet more powerful truth. The

Christian press re-established the facts and demolished the miserable

quibbles of philosophic fanaticism.

"Meeting with some unexplained facts to which the faith or the

credulity of the multitude attributes a supernatural character,

the civil authority," said M. Louis Veuillot, "has decided without

information, but also without success, in the negative. The

spiritual authority comes in in its turn; it is its right and

its duty to do so. But before making its judgment, it obtains

information. It institutes a commission, an inquiry to examine the

alleged facts, to study them, and determine their nature. If they

have actually occurred, and are really supernatural, the commission

will say so. If they have not occurred, or if they can be explained

on natural principles, the commission will also acknowledge that such

is the case. What more can our adversaries desire? Do they wish the

Bishop to abstain from this examination, with a double danger before

him, either of failing to recognize a signal favor which Almighty God

would grant to his people, or of allowing a superstition to take root

among them?

"The Bishop must necessarily have observed the strangeness of this

conviction which had become so firm in the popular mind, upon the

word of a poor and ignorant little girl; he must have asked also

how these cures could be accounted for, obtained as they had been

by means of a few drops of pure water, swallowed or externally

applied.... And if there have been in fact no cures, it must be

ascertained why the contrary has been believed. But, supposing that

the water has no mineral ingredient, as is said by the chemists,

and that, nevertheless, the cures are certain, as many sick people

and several physicians attest, we do not see any difficulty in

recognizing in the case something supernatural and miraculous, with

all due respect to the explanations of the _Siècle_."

The vigorous champion contended with all his enemies at once. A

touch of his pen sufficed to demolish the ridiculous idea of denying

the possibility of miracles, and of refusing even an examination to

these startling facts which a multitude had seen with their own eyes

and attested on their knees. "If any one should tell M. Guéroult

that a great miracle had been worked in the name of Christ upon the

Place de la Concorde, he would not go, it seems, to see it. This is

prudent in him certainly, for he is determined to remain incredulous;

and in presence of such a spectacle he would not be so certain of

finding a natural explanation which would dispense him from going to

confession. But he would be still more prudent if he would witness

the miracle and believe, yielding to the testimony which God in his

mercy would thus give him. The people, however, will not care for

his absence, and will not be at all disconcerted to hear that the

thing is not at all extraordinary, and that they are the victims of

delusion. Things would take the same course at Paris as at Lourdes;

a miracle would be proclaimed, and, if there really had been one, it

would have its effect; that is, many men who had not as yet '_sought

to discover the divine will_,' or who have not yet been successful

in their search, would know and fulfil it; they would love God with

their whole heart, soul, and mind, and their neighbors as themselves.

Such is the object which God intends in working miracles; and it is

so much the worse for those who refuse to profit by them.

"Those who reject the supernatural, said an ancient writer, destroy

philosophy. They destroy it indeed, and especially since the advent

of Christianity, because, wishing to take God out of the world, they

have no longer any explanation for the world or for humanity. As to

this God whom they exclude, some deny his existence, that they may

get entirely rid of him; others make of him an inert and indifferent

being, having nothing to require and requiring nothing from men,

whom he abandons to chance, having created them in a freak of his

disdainful power. Some, denying him in their very affirmation, as

if they wished to satiate their ingratitude by doing him a double

injury, pretend to find him in all things, which theory dispenses

them from recognizing and adoring him anywhere in particular.

Meanwhile, around them and even in themselves, humanity confesses

its God. They reply by sophisms which are far from contenting them,

by sarcasms the weakness of which they can hardly conceal from

themselves, and at last their science and reason, driven back to

the absurd, deprive them of their eyes and ears. They destroy all

philosophy.... God, taking compassion on the faith of the weak which

these false teachers would pervert, shows himself by one of those

unusual displays of his power, which is nevertheless _one of the laws

of the world_. They deny it. Look! we do not wish to see!... David

said of the sinner, 'He has promised himself in his heart to sin; he

refuses to understand, that he may not be forced to do well.'

"Ah! no doubt," elsewhere exclaimed the indignant logician, "there is

an unfortunate multitude on whom all these commonplaces can be palmed

off without difficulty; but there are also at Lourdes and elsewhere

some readers whose common-sense is aroused, and who ask what will

become of history, evident facts, and reason in such a system, with

such a determination to deny everything without examination?

"As to preventing the episcopal commission from acting, we doubt if

there are any laws conferring such a power upon the government; if

there are, it will probably wisely abstain from using its power. On

one hand, nothing could be more favorable to superstition than to

do so; the popular credulity would then go astray without restraint,

for there is no law which can oblige the Bishop to pronounce upon a

fact about which he has not been able, and has even been forbidden,

to inform himself.... There is only one course for the enemies of

superstition, that is, to appoint a commission themselves, to make a

counter-examination, and publish its result, in case, of course, that

the one appointed by the Bishop concludes in favor of the miracle.

For if it concludes that the reports are false, or that there is some

illusion, this will not be needed."

The Catholic press, with a reserve truly admirable in the midst of

the excitement of the dispute, refused to decide as to the actual

merits of the case. It did not wish to anticipate the verdict of the

episcopal commission; but confined itself to refuting calumnies,

absurd stories, and sophisms, to defending the historical thesis of

the occurrence of supernatural events, and to claiming in the name of

reason the right of examination and freedom to ascertain the truth.

"The event at Lourdes," said the _Univers_, "is not as yet verified,

nor is its nature determined. It may have been a miracle, it may have

been an illusion. The decision of the Bishop will settle the question.

"For our own part, we believe that we have answered all that has been

seriously or even speciously said about the events at Lourdes. We

shall leave the matter here. It was not right that the press should

be allowed to heap around these facts all the lies it could think

of; but it would not be becoming to give an answer to the abundance

of its scoffing words. Wise men will appreciate the wisdom and good

faith of the church, and as usual, after all the turmoil, truth

will secure for itself in the world its little nucleus of adherents,

'pusillus grex,' which nevertheless is sufficient to maintain its

ascendency in the world."[134]

It is obvious that, in the great polemical question regarding

miracles which was being discussed on the occasion of the events at

Lourdes, the two sides were acting on diametrically opposite plans.

On the one hand, the Catholics appealed to an impartial examination;

on the other, the pseudo-philosophers feared the light. The former

said, "Let us have an examination;" the latter cried, "Let us hear no

more of this matter." The former had for their watchword liberty of

conscience; the latter implored Cæsar to put a violent stop to this

religious movement, and to stifle it, not by the power of arguments,

but by brute force.

Every impartial mind, placed by its views or circumstances outside of

the _mêlée_, could not help seeing with the greatest clearness that

justice, truth, and reason were on the Catholic side. All that was

necessary for this was, not to be blinded by the fury of the contest

or by an immovable prejudice.

Although in the person of a commissary, a prefect, and a minister

the administration had unfortunately taken a very decided part in

this important affair, there still was a man of authority who had

not had anything to do with it, and who was in the conditions of

perfect impartiality, whatever his religious, philosophical, and

political views might be. Whether there had been a manifestation

of the supernatural or not at Lourdes made no difference in his

calculations. Neither his ambition, self-love, doctrines, nor

antecedents were concerned in this question. What mind is there which

in such circumstances cannot be fair, and give justice and truth

their rights? People do not violate justice or outrage truth except

when they think it advantageous to do so, under some strong prompting

of avarice, ambition, or pride.

The man of whom we speak was called Napoleon III., and was, as it

happened, Emperor of the French.

Impassible as usual, silent as the granite sphinxes which watch at

the gates of Thebes, he followed the discussion, observing the turns

of the battle, and waiting for the public conscience to dictate, as

it were, his decision.

IV.

While God was thus leaving his work to the disputes of men, he

did not cease to grant visible graces to the humble and believing

souls which came to the miraculous spring to implore the aid of the

sovereign power of the Virgin Mother.

A child of the town of St. Justin, in the department of Gers, named

Jean-Marie Tambourné, had been for some months entirely disabled in

his right leg. The pains in it had been so severe that the limb had

been twisted; and the foot, turned entirely outward in these crises

of suffering, had come to form a right angle with the other one. His

general health had rapidly deteriorated under this state of continual

suffering, which robbed the poor boy of his sleep as well as of his

appetite. He was in fact sinking into the grave. His parents, who

were tolerably well off, had tried for his cure all the treatments

which had been suggested by the physicians of the neighborhood, but

without success.

They had also had recourse to the waters of Blousson and to medicated

baths. The result had been almost complete failure. Any very slight

and temporary alleviations which were obtained always resulted in a

disastrous relapse.

The parents had at last lost all confidence in the remedies of

science. Tired of medical treatment, they turned their hopes toward

the Mother of God, who, it was said, had appeared at the Massabielle

rocks. On the 23d of September, 1858, the little boy was taken by his

mother to Lourdes, in the public coach. It was a long distance, more

than thirty miles. Having reached the town, the mother hastened to

the grotto, carrying her unfortunate child in her arms. She bathed

him in the miraculous water, praying with fervor to her who has been

pleased to be called in the Litany "Health of the Sick." The child

meanwhile had fallen into a sort of ecstatic state. His eyes were

wide open, his lips apart. He seemed to be gazing at some strange

object.

"What is the matter?" said his mother.

"I see the good God and the Blessed Virgin," answered he.

The poor woman, at these words, felt a great commotion at her heart,

and the sweat stood out upon her face.

The child came to himself.

"Mother," said he, "my trouble is gone. My feet do not ache now. I

can walk, I know I can; I am as strong as ever I was."

Jean-Marie was right; he was indeed cured. He went to the village

of Lourdes on foot, ate and slept there. At the same time that his

pain and weakness ceased, his appetite and sleep returned. The next

day his mother bathed him once more at the grotto, and had a mass of

thanksgiving celebrated in the church at Lourdes. Then they set out

for home; not in the coach this time, but on foot.

When, after spending one night on the road, they reached St. Justin,

the child saw his father, who was on the watch, expecting no doubt

that some carriage would bring back the pilgrims. Jean-Marie

recognized him far off, and ran to him.

The father almost fainted. But his darling was already in his arms.

"Papa," cried he, "the Blessed Virgin has cured me."

The news of this event spread quickly enough in the town, where

everybody knew the child. They flocked from all sides to see him.[135]

The sister of a notary of Tarbes, Jeanne-Marie Massot-Bordenave, had

become, after a long and serious illness, almost entirely crippled

in her feet and hands. She walked only with extreme difficulty.

Her hands, habitually swollen, discolored, and aching, were almost

entirely useless. Her fingers, bent back and stiff, could not be

straightened, and were completely paralyzed. Having gone to see her

brother at Tarbes, she was returning home to Arras, in the canton

of Aucun. She was alone in the inside of the diligence. A flask of

wine which her brother had given her having become uncorked and

overturned, she could not set it up or cork it, so entirely powerless

had her fingers become.

Lourdes was upon the road. She stopped there and went to the grotto.

Hardly had she plunged her hands into the miraculous water, when she

perceived that they were instantly coming back to life. Her fingers

had straightened, and suddenly recovered their flexibility and

strength. Successful perhaps beyond her expectations, she plunged her

feet in the miraculous water, and they were healed like her hands.

She fell upon her knees. What did she say to the Blessed Virgin? How

did she thank her? Such prayers, such bursts of gratitude may be

imagined, but not expressed in words.

She then put on her shoes, and with a confident step returned to the

town.

A young girl was walking in the same direction, coming back from the

woods with an enormous bundle of fagots on her head. It was warm, and

the poor little peasant was bathed in perspiration. Exhausted, she

sat down upon a stone at the side of the road, laying her too heavy

burden at her feet. At this moment Jeanne-Marie Massot passed before

her, returning quickly and joyfully from the fountain of grace. A

good thought occurred to her. She went up to the child.

"My child," said she to her, "our Lord has just granted me a great

favor. He has cured me; he has taken away my burden. And in my turn,

I would like to aid and relieve you."

So saying, Marie Massot took up with her hands restored to life the

heavy fagots which lay on the ground, put them on her head, and

thus returned to Lourdes, whence, less than an hour before, she

had gone out weak and paralyzed. The first-fruits of her recovered

strength had been nobly used; they had been consecrated to charity.

"Freely have you received, freely give," said our Redeemer to his

disciples.[136]

A woman already advanced in age, Marie Capdevielle, of the village

of Livron, in the neighborhood of Lourdes, had also been cured of a

severe deafness which had troubled her for a long time. "I seem,"

said she, "to be in another world when I hear the church-bells, which

I have not heard before for three years."

These cures, and many others, continue to attest irrefutably the

direct intervention of God. He showed his power in restoring

health to the sick, and it was evident that, if he had permitted

persecution, it was because it was necessary to the conduct of his

designs. It rested with him to put a stop to it, and for that purpose

to bend and use as it should please him the wills of the great ones

of the earth.

V.

Polemics on the subject of the grotto had become exhausted. In France

and abroad, public opinion had passed judgment, not indeed on the

reality of the supernatural events, but on the violent oppression

to which all liberty of belief and right of examination were being

subjected to in a corner of the empire. The miserable sophisms of

anti-christian fanaticism and of pseudo-philosophic intolerance

had not held their ground before the cogent logic of the Catholic

journals. The _Débats_, the _Siècle_, the _Presse_, and the common

herd of irreligious sheets kept silence, probably sorry that they had

undertaken this unfortunate contest, and made so much noise about

these extraordinary facts. They had only succeeded in propagating and

spreading everywhere the renown of a host of miracles. From Italy,

Germany, and even more distant lands, people were writing to Lourdes

for some of the sacred water.

At the Bureau of Public Worship, M. Rouland persisted in putting

himself in the way of the most holy of liberties, and in endeavoring

to stop the march of events.

At the grotto, Jacomet and the guards continued to keep watch day and

night, and to bring the faithful up before the courts. Judge Duprat

kept on sentencing them.

Between such a minister to back him, and such agents to carry out

his will, Baron Massy remained bravely in his desperately illogical

situation, and consoled himself with the omnipotence of his arbitrary

will. Continually more and more exasperated by seeing the vain

pretexts of religion and public order with which he had at first

wished to conceal his intolerance slipping through his fingers, he

gave himself up gladly to the bitter satisfaction of practising pure

tyranny. He remained deaf to the universal protest. To all reasoning,

to undeniable evidence, he opposed his own will: "Such is my

determination." It was sweet to him to be stronger single-handed than

all the multitudes, stronger than the Bishop, stronger than common

sense, than miracles, than the God who was manifested at the grotto.

It was at this juncture that two eminent personages, Mgr. de

Salinis, Archbishop of Auch, and M. de Rességuier, formerly of the

deputies, called on the Emperor, who was at the time at Biarritz.

Napoleon III. was receiving at the same time from various quarters

petitions demanding urgently, in virtue of the most sacred rights,

the annulment of the arbitrary and violent measures of Baron Massy.

"Sire," said one of these petitions, "we do not pretend to settle

the question as to the apparitions of the Blessed Virgin, though

almost all the people here, on account of the startling miracles

which they claim to have personally witnessed, believe in the

reality of these supernatural manifestations. But it is certain and

indisputable that the fountain which appeared suddenly, and from

which we are excluded, in spite of the scientific analysis which

asserts its perfect harmlessness, has been hurtful to no one; on the

other hand, it is undeniable that a great number of persons declare

that they have there recovered their health. In the name of the

rights of conscience, which should be independent of all human power,

permit the faithful to go and pray there if they choose. In the name

of humanity, allow the sick to go there for their cure, if they

entertain such a hope. In the name of free thought, suffer the minds

which need information for their study and examination to go there to

unmask error or to discover truth."

The Emperor, as we have said above, was disinterested in the

question, or rather it was for his interest not to waste his power

in fruitlessly opposing the course of events. It was for his

interest to listen to the cry of souls asking for the liberty of

their faith, the cry of minds demanding freedom to study and see for

themselves. It was for his interest to be just, and not to crush, by

an arbitrary act and an evident denial of justice, those who believed

the evidence of their senses, as well as those who, though not yet

believing, still claimed the right to examine publicly the mysterious

occurrences which were occupying the attention of France.

It has been seen what wild romances the honest Minister Rouland had

gravely accepted as incontestable truths. The information which

his benevolent excellency must have given the Emperor could hardly

have given the latter much light upon the subject. The newspaper

discussions, although they had triumphantly brought to light the

right of one party and the unjust intolerance of the other, could not

have given him a perfectly clear idea of the situation. At Biarritz

only did it appear to him in its fulness and complete details.

Napoleon III. was not a very demonstrative sovereign; his thoughts

were seldom plainly indicated by his words; rather by actions. As he

learned the absurd and violent proceedings by which the minister,

the prefect, and their agents had been bringing authority into

disgrace, his dull eye brightened, it is said, with a flash of anger;

he shrugged his shoulders nervously, and a cloud of deep displeasure

passed over his brow. He rang the bell impatiently.

"Take this to the telegraph office," said he.

It was a brief dispatch to the Prefect of Tarbes, ordering him, in

the name of the Emperor, to rescind instantly the decree closing the

grotto at Lourdes, and to leave the people free.

VI.

We are familiar with the discoveries of science with regard to the

wonderful electric spark, which the network of wires covering the

globe carries from one end of the earth to the other in an instant.

The telegraph, as the _savants_ tell us, is the same thing as the

thunderbolt. On this occasion, Baron Massy was entirely of their

opinion. The imperial despatch, falling suddenly upon them, stunned

and bewildered him, as a sudden stroke of lightning would have done

coming down upon his house. He could not believe in its reality.

The more he thought of it, the more impossible it seemed for him to

retrace his steps, to reverse his judgment, or to bear his retreat

publicly. Nevertheless, he had to swallow this bitter draught, or

hand in his resignation and put far away from his lips the sweet

prefectoral cup. Fatal alternative! The heart of a public functionary

is sometimes torn by fearful anguish.

When a sudden catastrophe comes upon us, we have at first some

difficulty in accepting it as definitive, and we continue to struggle

after all is lost. Baron Massy did not escape this illusion. He

hoped vaguely that the Emperor would revoke his decision. In this

hope, he undertook to keep the dispatch secret for some days, and not

to obey. He wrote to the Emperor, and also secured the intervention

of Minister Rouland, who was less publicly but as completely affected

as himself by the unexpected order from Biarritz.

Napoleon III. was as insensible to the protests of the minister as

to the representations and entreaties of the prefect. The judgment

which he had made had been based upon evidence, and was irrevocable.

All these steps had no other result than to show him that the prefect

had dared to set aside his orders and to postpone their execution.

A second despatch left Biarritz. It was couched in terms which

permitted no comment or delay.

Baron Massy had to choose between his pride and his prefecture. He

made the grievous choice, and was humble enough to remain in his

office.

The head of the department resigned himself to obedience.

Nevertheless, in spite of the imperative orders of his master, he

still tried, not to resist, which was evidently impossible, but to

hide his retreat and not surrender publicly.

In consequence of some official indiscretions, and perhaps also by

the account of the gentlemen who had waited on the Emperor, the

purport of the orders from Biarritz was already vaguely known by

the public. It was the topic of general conversation. The prefect

neither confirmed nor denied the prevailing rumors. He instructed

Jacomet and his agents to draw up no more _procès-verbaux_, and to

discontinue the watch. Such a course, coming in connection with the

current reports as to the instructions of the Emperor, ought to

have sufficed (at least such was his hope) to put things in their

normal state, and make the prohibitory decree a dead letter. It was

even probable that the people, restored to liberty, would hasten

themselves to root up and throw into the Gave the posts bearing the

caution against entering upon the common land and within the barriers

which enclosed the grotto.

M. Massy was, however, mistaken in his calculations, plausible as

they may have been. In spite of the absence of the police, in spite

of the reports which were circulating without official contradiction,

the people feared some snare. They continued to pray on the wrong

side of the Gave. The trespasses were as before, generally speaking,

few and far between. No one touched the posts or the barriers. The

_status quo_, instead of disappearing of its own accord, as the

prefect had hoped, obstinately remained.

Considering the character of Napoleon III., and the clearness of the

orders from Biarritz, the situation was dangerous for the prefect,

and Baron Massy was too intelligent not to perceive it. Every moment

it was to be feared that the Emperor would hear of the way in which

he was trying to beat around the bush. He may well have dreaded

continually that some terrible message would arrive setting him aside

for ever, and turning him out in the cold, out from the luminous

realms of functionarism into the exterior darkness in which the

miserable unofficial world is involved.

The end of September had come.