THE CONFLAGRATION AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.--REBUILDING OF THE MONASTERY.
The Ursulines had inhabited their new monastery seven years before it
could be considered finished, a delay easily explained by their great
poverty. They were absolutely dependent for their support on remittances
from France, and these, besides being sent only once a year, were liable
to many casualties on the way. When the annual arrival of the vessels was
unusually retarded, the inconveniences to the colony in general, and to
the Nuns in particular, can be better imagined than described. What then
must have been the distress of the Sisters, when as happened more than
once, a ship was wrecked, or seized by pirates, so that they were obliged
to wait another year for the very necessaries of life! Then, when the
remittances did arrive, charity had so many claims on them, and so many
good reasons to urge in support of those claims, that but little remained
to carry on the building.
At the cost of many and many a sacrifice, it had been completed at last,
when on the memorable evening of December the 29th, 1650, the lay Sister
in charge of the bakery, fearing that the bitter frost would injure her
carefully prepared dough, thought to make all safe by placing a pan of
hot coals in the bread trough, which she then carefully closed. To
complete her imprudence, she forgot to remove the live coals as she had
intended, before retiring to rest. The consequences may be anticipated.
Towards midnight, the kneading trough ignited; the fire spread from the
bakery to the cellars in which the year's provisions were stored, and
thence along the whole lower story. The crackling of the flames, and the
suffocation of the smoke providentially gave the alarm in time to save
the lives, but the lives alone of all the inmates. Amidst the general
terror and confusion, the Mother of the Incarnation retained her usual
calm presence of mind. Seeing that any attempt to preserve the house
would be vain, she directed her efforts to collect a few articles of
clothing, but finding even this useless, she satisfied herself with
securing some papers of great importance to the community. While engaged
in the hazardous service, she was literally surrounded by flames. The
fire raged fiercely in the story under her; it ran with fearful rapidity
along the roof above her; the church bell under which she had to pass was
pouring down a stream of melted metal, and still she escaped unhurt,
though nearly suffocated.
Meantime, the rescued household were assembled under the ash tree, so
closely connected by tradition with her loved and venerated memory. All
were there except one, but that one was the most precious o any. Had she
perished,--she, the soul, the living model, the cherished Mother of the
community? Each longed, but none dared to ask the question. Almost
breathless from anxiety, yet hoping against hope, the little crowd stood
silently awaiting the issue. Happily their fears were soon dissipated;
good angels had folded their wings round the venerated Mother and
screened her from the flames. Yes, it was she whom they saw advancing.
Even if she had not been distinctly visible in the strong, clear light of
the blazing house, they would have recognised her by that air of quiet
self-possession which nothing could disturb; that sweet serenity which
nothing could ruffle. But what a sight for the tender-hearted Mother! All
the children both French and Indian were standing on the snow,
barefooted, very scantily clad, shivering and trembling, and pressed
close together for greater warmth. Madame de la Peltrie, so frail; so
delicately nurtured, so sensitive to cold, sharing their sufferings;
worst of all, the Mother Sister Joseph in her failing health, pierced
through by the biting air, and looking as if she would expire
momentarily. It was a scene well calculated to display the virtue of the
Mother of the Incarnation, which never shone out more brightly. The
heroism of her resignation seemed even to pass into the hearts of her
companions in affliction, who falling on their knees, returned thanks to
God in the spirit of the martyrs for having been thought worthy of so
bitter a trial. The spectators wondered, but the Mother afterwards
explained the mystery; "He," she said, "who tried, strengthened and
consoled us too." The night was calm, but intensely cold; the sky
brilliantly studded with stars. Showers of sparks poured from the burning
building on the neighbouring forest, on the fort, and on the adjoining
houses, menacing the town with destruction. But for a light breeze which
providentially arose at the moment, and turned the course of the flames,
it must have been consumed. Every effort had been made to arrest the
conflagration; the Jesuit Fathers in particular, bad been vigorous and
untiring, but when discovered, the fire had progressed too far to be
checked. At imminent peril, the Blessed Sacrament and some of the sacred
vestments were saved. In less than two hours, nothing remained of the
monastery but the blackened walls. Clothing, provisions, furniture, all
the earthly possessions of the Ursulines were gone.
With great kindness, the principal citizens offered hospitality to the
children, while the Superior of the Jesuits conducted the Nuns to the
convent of the Hospital Sisters, who opened not alone their doors, but
their hearts to their desolate visitors, clothing them from their own
wardrobes, placing the whole house at their disposal, and retaining them
for over three weeks as their prized and honoured guests. The day after
the calamity, the Governor came to offer his condolence; but sweeter than
all to the hearts of the sufferers, was a deputation, and an address of
sympathy from the Hurons. Time was, when to use their own expression, the
grateful chiefs would have covered the ashes of the monastery with
presents, but alas! of their vanished glory nought remained but two
wampum belts. [Footnote: Wampum. Small shells of various colours formerly
used by the North American Indiana as money, and strung like beads into
broad ornamental belts.] Such as they were, it was decided in solemn
council that they should be presented to the bereaved Sisters.
Accordingly the deputation arrived, and the Grand Chief delivered the
oration, too long to be entirely inserted, but too beautiful in its
simple language and genuine feeling, to be entirely omitted. "Holy
Virgins," he said; "you see before you the miserable remnant of a once
flourishing, now extinct nation. The little left to us, we owe to you.
Alas! the misfortune which has befallen you, renews our own woes, and re-
opens the source of our only partially dried tears. When we saw the
beautiful house of Jesus consumed in a moment before our eyes, the sad
sight reminded us of the day when our own homes and hamlets were
delivered up a prey to the flames, and our country reduced to a heap of
ruins. Holy Virgins, you are then sharers in the misery of the poor
Hurons, for whose melancholy fate you showed such tender pity. You too
are left without house, home, provisions or help, except the help of that
heaven to which your eyes are ever turned. If you belonged to our people,
we should try to console you by two presents, one intended to dry your
tears, the other to add new strength to your fortitude; but we have not
seen you shed one tear over your misfortune; neither we know have you
buried your courage under the wreck of your fallen house. Surely it must
be that your hearts are too fixed on the treasures of heaven, to value
those of earth."
"One thing we fear, that when your friends in France hear of your
distress, they will pray you so earnestly to return to them, that you
will be unable to resist their entreaties, so we shall be in danger of
losing you, and with you, the chance of instruction for our children.
Have courage, holy Virgins, and prove that your love for the poor Indians
is a heavenly love, stronger than that which binds you to your relatives.
We offer you these two wampum belts, the one to attach you inviolably to
our country; the other to found anew a house for Jesus, where you can
pray, and teach our children to do so too."
"We know you could not die happily, if at the last hour you had to
reproach yourselves with having loved your friends so much as to give up
for their sakes the souls once dear to you in God, and destined to be
your eternal crown in heaven."
It cannot be doubted that the sympathy of the Hurons must have been very
gratifying to the Mothers, and have tended to cement the already strong
tie which bound them to Canada. But the tie was a Divine one, formed by,
and wholly dependent on the will of God. "If the Almighty decreed that we
should return to France," the Mother of the Incarnation wrote to her son,
"I should go back with the same tranquillity as I came out. To go, or to
stay, is a matter of indifference, provided only God be glorified." In
describing the events of the terrible night of the 29th December, she
tells him that looking on the disaster as the punishment of her sins, she
accepted it with perfect equanimity, only wishing that the chastisement
were confined to herself, since she alone deserved it, and beseeching God
to spare her innocent Sisters. She says that amidst the horrors of the
conflagration, she enjoyed most profound interior peace, undisturbed by a
single emotion of regret, sadness, or uneasiness. That closely united in
heart with the will of Him who had permitted the blow, she desired that
it might be accepted by all in the spirit of the saints both of the Old
and New law, who with humble and contrite hearts blessed God under the
heaviest afflictions and severest temporal losses.
This imperturbable tranquillity was founded on her perfect confidence in
God. Tracing all human events to His ordinance or permission, she
sometimes wondered how it was that men should try to reject His hand when
it sends adversity, and submit to it willingly only when it bestows
prosperity, both being equally His gifts. The calmness of soul thus
solidly grounded, must necessarily have been very steady but in addition,
the Mother of the Incarnation had, as we know, received from God Himself
a special gift of His own Divine peace.
Unwilling to burden the charitable Hospital-Sisters longer, the Ursulines
resolved at the end of three weeks, to take up their abode in a small
house which Madame de la Peltrie had built for herself within their
enclosure, and afterwards generously given them as a school for the
Indians. Its dimensions were thirty feet by twenty, and it contained two
rooms. Here, it was decided that thirteen Sisters and some boarders
should live as best they could, and as the exclusion of converts seeking
instruction was not to be dreamt or, the house was made to contain a
grated parlour in addition to a chapel, school, refectory, kitchen and
dormitory. It had need of an infirmary too, for in that abode of poverty,
a well-beloved Sister was slowly wearing her life away, amidst
inconceivable sufferings and privations. It was then only the end of
January, so that many months were still to elapse before help should come
from France, but far from losing courage, the heroic Mothers rejoiced at
finding themselves reduced to such utter indigence, as to be compelled to
accept alms even from the poor, and so it happened that notwithstanding
their own want, the poorest of their neighbours would bring them
presents, one of a hen, another of a few eggs, a third of some trifling
article of clothing. In their generous charity, the people, not only
shared with them all they could spare conveniently, but moreover
encroached on absolute necessaries. To complete the distress of the
Sisters, the vessels were delayed, and when they did come, they brought
but the usual supplies of provisions and clothing, the news of the
disaster not having reached in time to secure an additional quantity. But
God had not abandoned His own. The Ursulines possessed a small farm,
which from want of cultivation, had hitherto yielded them no profit.
Deeply touched by their extreme poverty, their chaplain, Rev. M. Vignal,
resolved to take it in hands, and not satisfied with merely
superintending, he worked, with the labourers, and more actively than
any. The Almighty blessed the charity, and the land produced an abundant
crop of wheat, barley and peas, which proved a valuable resource to the
Sisters. This good priest was massacred by the Iroquois in 1661.
Meantime it had become evident to all interested in the success of the
Nuns, that if they were to remain in Canada, they would have to rebuild
the convent. They had originally been of opinion, that with some
additions, Madame de la Peltrie's house might be made to afford them
sufficient accommodation, but on mature consideration, they determined to
adopt the advice of their friends, and to trust to Providence for the
means of carrying it out. They were offered a loan free of interest for
six years, by the principal citizens headed by the Jesuits of the colony
and the Governor, M. d'Ailleboust. The good Fathers who had already
assisted them most liberally, promised the services of their lay brothers
and workmen to help on the building. All this was encouraging. The snow
had hardly melted away when the Nuns began to clear the rubbish from the
foundations, and on the 19th of May, 1651, Madame de la Peltrie laid the
first stone of the second monastery precisely on the site previously
occupied by the first. The burden of care and responsibility again fell
on the Venerable Mother, who as before, was charged with the
superintendence of the work. While we wait for the completion of the new
building, let us see how the Mothers contrived to carry on school work in
the interim. The glance will show us a pretty picture traced by the pen
of one of their present descendants at the convent of Quebec, in her
interesting History of the Monastery.
The number of pupils instead of diminishing, has increased, however in-
door accommodation is scant as ever, so if we would assist at a lesson,
we must be content with an academy of a primitive kind, and yet, after
all, it is one which may well satisfy the most fastidious taste. For
roof, it has the canopy of deep blue heaven; for study halls, the lordly
forest; for carpet, a fairy web of wild flowers. Here and there, the sun
is glancing through the dense foliage, and tinging his resting spots with
gold. The ancient trees are looking glorious in their bright, spring
clothing; the soft breeze is singing its gentlest notes among the leaves;
all looks so fresh, so peaceful and so attractive in the sweet, cool
shade, that we do not wonder to hear of numerous candidates for admission
to the extemporized academy. In after times, traditionary honours will
attach to some of those venerable trees; one in particular will be so
often commemorated, that people will learn at last to look on it in the
light of an old friend. Here it is; the well-known ash tree, [Footnote:
This veteran of the wilderness remained standing until the 19th of June,
1850, when bending under age and honours, it fell to the ground. The wood
has been carefully preserved for the sake of dear and old associations,
and is used in making ornamental crosses, and similar small devotional
articles, as memorials of the Mother Mary of the Incarnation.] under
which, whenever she can quit her more pressing duties, we are sure to
find the Mother Mary of the Incarnation surrounded by her dear Indian
children, to whom she speaks with heavenly unction of "Him who made all
things." How their dark eyes glisten, and their little hearts swell,
while they catch each word of life as it falls from her lips to find an
echo in their souls! A few steps farther is the famous walnut tree, and
here we meet a group of French pupils receiving the lessons of Mother St.
Athanasius. At a future day, many of these will be found in the ranks of
the Ursuline or Hospital-Sisters; many more faithfully discharging their
responsible duties as heads of families, presiding over Christian
households, and training their children to virtue by word and example.
Farther still, in the shadow of some ancient monarch of the woods, are
bark huts occupied by the Neophytes, whom we find participating not only
in the heavenly bread of God's word, but also in the small resources of
their impoverished teachers. Many of these too, will do the work of
apostles in a humble way among their own tribes. To crown the scene of
beauty, the walls of the new monastery are visible in the distance, and
like the olive branch in the deluge, they speak o£ hope.
Happily the hope was realized, and far more speedily too, than humanly
speaking could have been anticipated. Exactly one year after the first
stone had been laid, the new monastery was ready to receive its inmates.
So triumphantly successful a termination to the arduous work, was due in
great part to the extraordinary natural energy of the Mother of the
Incarnation, but still more, to the intervention of her celestial
Assistant, the Help of Christians and Queen of heaven. On the 8th of the
September preceding the destruction of the first monastery, the community
had formally placed itself under the immediate patronage of that glorious
Queen, choosing her with solemn ceremonial for its first and chief
Superior. That she had graciously condescended to accept the charge, was
clearly manifested by the fidelity with which she discharged the trust
attaching to it. The marvellous rapidity which marked the erection of the
new building, the preservation of the workmen from the slightest accident
during its progress, and the almost total freedom of the community from
debt at its completion, form a series of favours unhesitatingly ascribed
by the Venerable Mother and the Sisters to the manifest protection of
their "First Superior," the "Virgin most powerful, most merciful and most
faithful."
The personal devotion of the Mother of the Incarnation to our Blessed
Lady, dating from her earliest years, had grown with her growth, and
strengthened with her strength. Her childhood's prayer had been that,
even in this life, she might be permitted to see her dear Heavenly
Mother, and, if the petition was not granted literally, it may at least
be said to have been at this time answered substantially. She did not see
the Blessed Virgin, she says, with her corporal eyes, but, from the
commencement to the completion of the building, she had her as constantly
and as vividly present to mind and heart, as if she did. She felt her
ever by her side, and in her company encountered hardships and dangers
without fear. Long accustomed to recur to her in the emergencies of life,
she transferred to her, if we may say so, the whole responsibility of the
present undertaking, referring to her and consulting her as its first and
chief Directress. No wonder, then, that it should have been crowned with
extraordinary success. "It was never known in any age, that those who had
recourse to Mary were abandoned by her" (St. Bernard). The Venerable
Mother, who from the dawn of reason had loved her and trusted in her,
could not surely be the one to inaugurate a new experience! So far from
it, that some years after the present date, we find her writing, in
allusion to the favours of her heavenly Protectress, "Our Blessed Mother
assists us in all our wants, and guards us as the apple of her eye. In
her own sweet way, she watches over our interests, and relieves us in our
embarrassments. We are indebted to her for having many times passed
safely through overwhelming difficulties, and, among other benefits, for
the rebuilding of our monastery after it had been totally destroyed by
fire. What can I fear while shielded by protection at once so loving and
so powerful?"
On the 19th of May, 1652, the Ursulines took possession of their second
monastery. The great reputation which their schools enjoyed rendered the
event one of general interest to all classes. Pleased at the opportunity
of testifying their respect for the devoted Mothers, the inhabitants of
Quebec determined to make the occasion one of great solemnity.
Accordingly, the whole population, ecclesiastic and lay, assembled near
the house of Madame de la Peltrie; and thence accompanied the Nuns to
their new residence. The Most Adorable Sacrament was borne at the head of
the long procession to the convent chapel; the Forty Hours' prayer was at
once commenced, and on each of the three days of its continuance,
processions again went out from each of the churches in Quebec to the
Ursuline chapel, the chant of the Litanies resounding all along the way.
Well might the Mother of the Incarnation say that Divine Providence shows
itself a good Mother to those who place their whole reliance on its aid.
About thirty years later, the second monastery, like the first, was
consumed by fire, yet not wholly destroyed. The walls raised by the
Mother of the Incarnation under the protection of the Queen of Heaven,
withstood the flames, and after the lapse of more than two centuries,
they are still standing. They form the central portion of the edifice yet
known at this remote day as the Ursuline Convent of Quebec.