Chapter X: Preface (6)

MADAM,—I am, indeed, ashamed at not having been able sooner to answer the letters which you had the kindness to write me on the 2d of September and the 7th of December, 1844. They reached the Rocky Mountains only the year after, while I was engaged in a distant mission among the Indians, so that I received them only in the month of July, 1846. If it had been in my power to forward you an answer before this moment, my heart assures me that I would have done it without delay, for I must tell you here, that the debt of gratitude which my poor Indians and myself owe you is very great; and I felt impatient to inform you, that we have already begun to pray for you, for your dear and amiable children, and for your intentions. I have given directions to the Indians of these different tribes, viz., the Flat-Heads, the Pends {245} d’Oreilles, and the Cœur d’Alenes, to recite, every week, the Rosary for one of their great benefactresses, meaning yourself. Now, you cannot but be aware, that, among the Indians, the beads are recited in each family, so that I am already assured, and I have the consolation of saying to you, that many thousand pairs of beads have already been offered up to God and his august mother for you. Those good Indians—those children of the forest—so dear to my heart, will continue to display their gratitude till I tell them to cease, and that will not be very soon. What confidence have I not in the prayers of those Indians, whose merit is known only to God! Oh! if it is true that the prayer of him who possesses the innocence, the simplicity, and the faith of a child, pierces the clouds—is all-powerful, and is certainly heard—then be assured that in these new missions, in which the finger of God has been so visibly manifested, these virtues reign preeminently, and that the prayer of the Indian will also be heard in your behalf! How happy should I be, my dear, excellent Madam, could I give you to understand how great, how sweet, how enrapturing is their devotion to the august mother of God! The name of Mary, which {246} pronounced in the Indian language, is something so sweet and endearing, delights and charms them. The hearts of these good children of the forest melt, and seem to overflow, when they sing the praises of her whom they, as well as we, call their mother. Oh! I feel confident, knowing, as I do, their dispositions, that they have a distinguished place in the heart of that Holy Virgin; and that, through the intercession of Mary, invoked by so many fervent souls, you will obtain from God whatever you ask; for I am too well acquainted with your piety to think that you would ask anything that was not calculated to promote the glory of God, the sanctification of your own soul, and that of your children.

Permit me, now, to say a few words concerning the Indians and myself, since the time I had the honor of conversing with you in B⸺, in the spring of 1843. On the 6th of November of the following year, the Rev. Father A. Hoecken came to meet me, accompanied by several Indians of the tribe of Pends d’Oreilles of the Bay, among whom I had determined, two years before, to open a mission. They displayed every mark of friendship and joy at my return among them; they conducted me in triumph to their camp, {247} and received me there amidst volleys of musketry and the sounding of trumpets. It would be impossible to describe the feelings of my heart at thus meeting with the first band of my dear neophytes and children in God, and to represent to you the real joy which animated them on this occasion. How much had we not to communicate to each other! I gave them some little and to them interesting details of the vast countries through which I had travelled in order to promote the interest and welfare of the Indians, since I bade them farewell, that is, within fifteen months. I had crossed the great American desert, and passed through so many warlike, nomadical nations, extending from the Pacific Ocean to the frontier of the State of Missouri. I had travelled over the United States from New Orleans to Boston—crossed the Atlantic—seen a great part of Ireland and England—the whole of Belgium, Holland and France. From Marseilles I had passed by Genoa, the city of palaces, Leghorn, and Civitta Vecchia, to visit the Capital of the Christian world. From Rome I had gone to Anvers, and then, sailing round Cape Horn, touching at Chili and Peru, and having twice crossed the Equator, I had at length disembarked {248} at Fort Vancouver, on the Columbia, and had the happiness to embrace, on the 6th of November, my dear neophytes, who had prayed so fervently for me, that, during all these long voyages, by sea and land, passing through so many different climates, and at all seasons of the year, I had not been troubled either by sickness or any untoward accident. Glory to God for so special a protection, and a thousand thanks to the good Indians who, from the moment of my departure until my return, had not ceased to invoke, morning and evening, the blessing and assistance of Heaven on its unworthy servant.

The details which the young missionary gave me respecting their present dispositions, are too interesting to be here omitted; and I give them in proof of the divine grace over the hearts of this well-disposed people. All that I had recommended to them in the visits I paid them in 1841-42, had been strictly complied with. “The first thing,” says Father Adrien Hoecken in a letter home, “which struck me on my arrival among them, was a truly brotherly love and perfect union, which animated the whole tribe, and seemed to make {249} them but one family. They manifest great love, obedience and respect for their chiefs, and what is still more admirable, they all, as the chiefs themselves declare, speak and desire but one and the same thing. These chiefs are as much the real fathers of their people as is a good Superior the father of a religious community. The chiefs among the Kalispels speak calmly, but never in vain; the instant they intimate their wish to one of their followers, he sets to work to accomplish it. Is any one involved in difficulties—is he in want or sickness,—or does he wish to undertake a journey, whether long or short—he consults his chief, and shapes his conduct in accordance with the advice he receives. Even with regard to marriage, the Indians consult their chiefs, who sanction, or postpone it, or disapprove of it, according as they deem it conducive, or otherwise, to the happiness of the parties. The chief, in quality of father, endeavors to provide for the support of his people. It is he, consequently, who regulates hunting, fishing, and the gathering of roots and fruit. All the game and fish are brought to his lodge, and divided into as many shares as there are families. The distribution is made with rigid impartiality. The old, the infirm, the {250} widow, all receive their share equally with the hunter. Is not this something like the return of the golden age—those happy times when every thing was held in common and all had, as the apostle informs us, but one heart and one soul? Complaints, murmurings and backbiting are here unknown; blasphemy has never been uttered by an Indian: there are not even words in his language to express it.” On the arrival of the _Black-gown_, the great chiefs explained to him, with patriarchal simplicity, their manner of life. “We are ignorant,” he added, “but now that we have the happiness to have a _Black-gown_ among us, we will listen to his voice and obey it; whatever changes he may deem necessary to make, we will cheerfully submit.”

The _Black-gown_ confirmed and approved all the good practices and customs he found established in this little corner of the world, where, notwithstanding their poverty, the Indians all seemed contented and happy. It is really affecting to hear them speak of the darkness in which they had been buried; and to see them now exulting in the light of the gospel, and the knowledge of the Christian virtues, which they cherish, and by which their hearts seem to be inflamed. Their whole ambition consists in listening {251} with docility to the word of God, and in being able thoroughly to understand and recite their prayers. Piety is what a young man seeks in her who is to be his future wife—and what a young woman desires to find in him who is to become her husband. In their leisure hours they surround, and, if I may be allowed the expression, besiege their missionary. To the day they would add the night, if he could bear the fatigue, in speaking of heavenly things. Pride and human respect, are absolutely unknown to them. How often have we not seen gray-headed old men and even chiefs, sit down by the side of children ten or eleven years old, who would teach them their prayers, and explain to them the figures of the _Catholic Ladder_, with all the gravity becoming a teacher; and give to the explanation, for one or two hours, all the attention of obedient pupils. In seasons of scarcity, when the fishing or hunting has failed, or in other misfortunes, they manifest no signs of impatience. They are quiet and resigned receiving them as punishments for their sins; while their success they attribute to the bounty of God, and render to Him all the glory of it.

The usual place of residence of the Kalispels—that in which the _Reduction of St. Ignatius_ is {252} now established—is an extensive prairie, called the Bay of the Kalispels, thirty or forty miles above the mouth of Clark or Flat-Head River. A beautiful grotto exists in the neighborhood of the mission, which I have named the grotto of Manresa, in honor of our Holy Founder. It is very large, and might, at a small expense, be fitted up for a church. May the Indians gather in crowds into this new Manresa, and after the example of their patron, St. Ignatius, be penetrated with a feeling sense of heavenly things, and inflamed with the love of God!

I shall always remember with pleasure the winter of 1844-45, which I had the happiness of spending among these good Indians. The place for wintering was well chosen, picturesque, agreeable, and convenient. The camp was placed near a beautiful waterfall, caused by Clark river’s being blocked up by an immense rock, through which the waters, forcing narrow passages, precipitate themselves. A dense and interminable forest protected us from the north winds, and a countless number of dead trees standing on all sides, furnished us with abundant fuel for our fires during the inclement season. We were encircled by ranges of lofty mountains, whose snow-clad summits reflected {253} in the sun, their brightness on all the surrounding country.

The place for wintering being determined, the first care of the Indians was to erect the house of prayer. While the men cut down saplings, the women brought bark and mats to cover them. In two days this humble house of the Lord was completed—humble and poor indeed, but truly the _house of prayer_, to which pure, simple, innocent souls repaired, to offer to the Great Spirit their vows, and the tribute of their affections. Here the missionaries continued with care and diligence, their instructions preparatory to baptism. How consoling was it to see ourselves surrounded by this fervent band, who had renounced the chase of the buffalo—a pleasure so attracting to an Indian—and had come from various parts of the country to place themselves under our direction, in the well-founded hope of being speedily regenerated in the saving waters of baptism. They had already learned their prayers, and all those things which it was necessary they should practise. They applied with ardor to become acquainted with the nature and obligations of the Sacrament of regeneration, and the dispositions required for its worthy reception.

{254} The great festival of Christmas, the day on which the little band was to be added to the number of the true children of God, will never be effaced from the memory of our good Indians. The manner in which we celebrated midnight mass, may give you an idea of our festival. The signal for rising, which was to be given a few minutes before midnight, was the firing of a pistol, announcing to the Indians that the house of prayer would soon be open. This was followed by a general discharge of guns, in honor of the birth of the Infant Saviour, and three hundred voices rose spontaneously from the midst of the forest, and entoned in the language of the Pends d’Oreilles, the beautiful canticle: “_Du Dieu puissant tout annonce la gloire._”—“The Almighty’s glory all things proclaim.” In a moment a multitude of adorers were seen wending their way to the humble temple of the Lord—resembling indeed, the manger in which the Messiah was born. On that night, which all at once became bright as day, they experienced, I know not what, that which made them exclaim aloud, “Oh God! I give Thee my heart.” Oh! I trust that the happy impression which this unwonted spectacle made upon their hearts, will never be effaced. Of {255} what was our little church of the wilderness constructed? I have already told you—of posts fresh cut in the woods, covered over with mats and bark; these were its only materials. On the eve, the church was embellished with garlands and wreaths of green boughs; forming, as it were, a frame for the images which represent the affecting mysteries of Christmas night. The interior was ornamented with pine branches. The altar was neatly decorated, bespangled with stars of various brightness, and covered with a profusion of ribbons—things exceedingly attractive to the eye of an Indian. At midnight I celebrated a solemn Mass, the Indians sang several canticles suitable to the occasion. That peace announced in the first verse of the Angelic hymn—“The _Gloria_,—Peace on earth to men of good will,” was, I venture to say, literally fulfilled to the Indians of the forest. A grand banquet, according to Indian custom, followed the first Mass. Some choice pieces of the animals slain in the chase had been set apart for the occasion. I ordered half a sack of flour, and a large boiler of sweetened coffee to be added. The union, the contentment, the joy, and charity, which pervaded {256} the whole assembly, might well be compared to the _agape_ of the primitive Christians.

After the second High Mass, all the adults, with the chiefs at their head, presented themselves in the church to receive baptism, the fulfilment of their longing desires. The old man and woman whom I baptized two years before, were sponsors for all. The men were placed on the one side, according to the custom of Paraguay, and the women on the other. I was assisted during the ceremony, by Father Hoecken, their worthy and zealous missionary. Everything was done in order and with propriety. Permit me to repeat here that I should be delighted could I but communicate to the zealous and fervent, those pleasurable feelings—that overflowing of the heart, which one experiences on such occasions. Here, indeed, the Indian missionary enjoys his greatest consolations: here he obtains his strength, his courage, his zeal to labor to bring men to the knowledge of the true God, in spite of the poverty, the privations of every description, and the dangers with which he has to contend. Yes, surely, even in this life is the promise of the Saviour fulfilled with regard to him, “Ye shall receive {257} a hundred fold.” The trifling things of the world he abandons, are nothing to be compared with the blessings he finds in the wilderness. The priest does not address in vain to the Indians, those beautiful words of the Roman ritual; “Receive this white garment, etc.,” “Receive this burning taper, etc.” He may be certain that the greater number of his catechumens will wear that spotless garment—will preserve their baptismal innocence, to the hour of their death. When I have afterwards asked them, if they have not offended God? if their conscience does not reproach them with some fault? how often have I received this touching and consoling answer: “Oh, Father! in baptism I renounced sin, I try to avoid sin, the very thought of offending God, frightens me!” The ceremonies of baptism were closed by a second instruction, and by the distribution of beads which the Indians are accustomed to say every evening in public.

About 3 o’clock in the afternoon, the solemn benediction of the blessed sacrament was given for the first time, immediately after which, upwards of fifty couples, many of whom were eighty years old, came forward to renew before the Church, their marriage promises. I could not {258} help shedding tears of joy at witnessing this truly primitive simplicity, and the love and affection with which they pledged again their faith to each other. The last instruction was then given, and thanks were returned to God for all the blessings he had vouchsafed to shower upon them, on this ever-memorable day. The recitation of prayers and the chanting of hymns were heard in all the lodges of the camp, till the night was far advanced.

Fathers Mengarini and Serbinati, (the last-mentioned Father has since died), had the consolation to see the whole tribe of the Flat-Heads, among whom they had been laboring, approach the Holy Table on this day. Twelve young Indians, taught by Father Mengarini, performed with accuracy, several pieces of music during the midnight Mass. Fathers Point and Joset had, also, the consolation of admitting for the first time, nearly the entire tribe of the Cœur d’Alenes, on this auspicious day, to the Holy Communion. Father Point has given the particulars of this first communion in a letter, which has been published, and which you have, no doubt, read with pleasure. The Christmas of 1844 was, therefore, a great and glorious day in the Rocky Mountains.

{259} I will close this already lengthy letter with a few words more concerning the Pends d’Oreilles of the Bay. Early in the spring of 1845, began to build upon the spot selected for the _Reduction_ of St. Ignatius, and to open fields. On Ascension day of the same year, Father Hoecken administered baptism to upwards of a hundred adults. At my last visit, which I paid them in July last, they had already put up fourteen log houses, besides a large barn, had the timber prepared for a church, and had upwards of three hundred acres in grain, enclosed by a substantial fence. The whole village, men, women, and children, had worked most cheerfully. I counted thirty head of horned cattle—the squaws had learned to milk the cows and to churn; they had a few hogs and some domestic fowls. The number of Christians had doubled since Christmas, 1844.

A flour and saw mill, a few more ploughs, with other agricultural implements, and carpenter’s tools, were much wanted in the village of St. Ignatius. All is to be commenced among these poor, good Indians, and to us they look for means and supplies, which we readily grant as far as we are able. Already was an appeal made to the generous and charitable {260} Christians, and it is consoling for me to say, that appeal found an echo in the hearts of the friends of the Indians, which enabled us to enlarge our missionary operations, and I may add, that the grateful prayer of the Indians is daily ascending to the throne of the Almighty, to implore the blessings of Heaven on their benefactors. In 1845 and ’46, several stations were formed, and the extensive mission of New Caledonia was commenced.

I remain, with profound respect and esteem, madam, your very humble and obedient servant,

_P. J. De Smet, S. J._

No. XXI

A. M. D. G.

Valley of St. Mary’s, Aug. 10, 1846.

VERY REV. AND DEAR FATHER PROVINCIAL,—On the 27th July, I bade farewell to Father Hoecken and his interesting little flock, consisting of about five hundred Indians. I was accompanied by two Kalispels, and some of the Cœur d’Alenes, who came to meet me. We had beautiful weather, and a path remarkably free from those obstructions so annoying to travellers in the mountains. Towards the middle of our day’s journey, we reached a beautiful lake surrounded by hills, and a thick forest of larch. I have named it the Lake de Nef, as a token of gratitude towards one of the greatest benefactors of the mission. It discharges itself through a narrow passage, forming a beautiful rapid, called the Tournhout-torrent,[296] at the termination {262} of which it joins its limpid waters to those of the river Spokane.

Next day the sun rose majestically, and everything gave promise of an agreeable day, but these fine appearances were gradually lost behind a thick bank of ominous clouds, which, shortly after overspreading the sky, poured down such torrents of rain, that everything on us was drenched as completely as if we had waded through a river. At the foot of the great rapids, we crossed the river Spokane,[297] and continued our route over an extensive plain, agreeably interspersed with thick groves of pine, when towards sunset we encamped close by a refreshing fountain.

A few words descriptive of our encampments during wet weather, may not be out of place. The tent erected in haste—saddles, bridles, baggage, etc., thrown into some sheltered spot—large heaps of larch branches or brushwood are cut down, and spread over the spot of ground destined for our repose—provision of as much dry wood as can be collected is now brought forth for the whole night; on this occasion we made a fire large enough to roast an ox. These preparations completed, our meal (dinner and supper the same time) consisting of flour, camash {263} roots, and some buffalo tallow, is thrown into a large kettle nearly filled with water. The great heat obliging the cook to stand at a respectable distance from the fire, a long pole serves as a ladle to stir about the contents until the mixture has acquired the proper density, when a vigorous attack is made upon it after a singular fashion indeed. On the present occasion we were six in number, trusting to a single spoon, but necessity soon supplied the deficiency. Two of the company used pieces of bark; two others, strips of leather; and the fifth, a small turtle-shell. Grace being said, a circle is formed round the kettle, and the instruments plunge and replunge into it with as much regularity and address, as a number of smiths’ hammers plying at the anvils—a few moments, and the contents of the large kettle are gone, leaving not a vestige behind. We found this repast delicious, thanks to our keen appetites. Making due allowance for the tastes of others, “_de gustibus enim nil disputandum_,” I confess I have never enjoyed a feast more heartily, than such as I have now described, prepared in the open air, after the Indian fashion. All the refined inventions of the art culinary, as sauces, pickles, preserves, pies, etc., designed to quicken {264} or restore weak appetites, are here utterly useless. Loss of appetite, which among the wealthy forms the reigning complaint, furnishing abundant employment to apothecaries and doctors, is here unheard of. If these patients would have the courage to abandon for a time their high living, and traverse the wilds of this region on horseback, breakfasting at day-break, and dining at sunset, after a ride of forty miles, I venture to predict that they will not need any refined incitements to relish as I did a simple dish prepared by the Indians. Having dried our blankets and said night prayers, our repose was not less sound for having fared so simply, or lain upon a rough couch of brushwood. We started early the next morning, and about mid-day arrived at the mission of the Sacred Heart, where I was received with the greatest cordiality by Fathers Joset and Point, with B. B. Magri and Lyons.[298] All the Cœur d’Alenes of the neighborhood came to welcome me. The fervor and piety of these poor Indians filled me with great joy and consolation, especially when I considered how great the change wrought in them since their conversion to Christianity. The details of this conversion have, I believe, been published by Father Point, and {265} by the way, I may remark here, that some incidents connected with my previous mission to this country, are inserted in this letter. To these details I may add, that these Indians previous to their conversion, were shunned by the other tribes, on account, it is said, of their great power in juggling and other idolatrous practices. Indeed, they were addicted to superstitions the most absurd, blindly offering adoration to the vilest beasts, and the most common objects. Now, they are the first to scoff at these ridiculous practices, adding at the same time, with much feeling and veneration, “God has had pity on us—He has opened our eyes—He is infinitely good to us.” A single instance will serve to give you some idea of the objects of their worship, and the facility with which they adopt their manitous or divinities. They related to me, that the first white man they saw in their country, wore a calico shirt spotted all over with black and white, which to them appeared like the smallpox, he also wore a white coverlet. The Cœur d’Alenes imagined that the spotted shirt was the great manitou himself—the great master of that alarming disease, the smallpox—and that the white coverlet was the great manitou of the snow; that if they {266} could obtain possession of these, and pay them divine honors, their nation would never afterwards be visited by that dreadful scourge; and their winter hunts be rendered successful by an abundant fall of snow. They accordingly offered him in exchange for these, several of their best horses. The bargain was eagerly closed by the white man. The spotted shirt and the white coverlet became thenceforward, objects of great veneration for many years. On grand solemnities, the two manitous were carried in procession to a lofty eminence, usually consecrated to the performance of their superstitious rites. They were then respectfully spread on the grass: the great medicine-pipe offered to them, with as much veneration, as it is customary with the Indians, in presenting it to the sun, the fire, the earth, and the water. The whole band of jugglers, or medicine-men, then entoned canticles of adoration to them. The service was generally terminated with a grand dance, in which the performers exhibited the most hideous contortions and extravagant gestures, accompanied with a most unearthly howling.

The term _medicine_ is commonly employed by the whites, to express whatever regards the {267} juggling, idolatrous practices of the savages; probably, because the Indian feeling his ignorance of the proper remedies in sickness, and almost wholly dependent upon chance for his subsistence, merely demands of his manitous some relief in these distressing situations. This _something_ that the Indians call Power, is at times limited, say they, to the procuring of only one object, as the cure of some disease. Some other Power, again, is not so limited, it extends to many objects, as success in hunting, fishing, waging war, and avenging injuries. All this, however, varies according to the degree of confidence reposed in it by the individual, the number of his passions or the intensity of his malice. Some of the Powers are looked upon even by the savages themselves, as wicked in the extreme, the sole object of such Powers is to do evil. Moreover it is not at all times granted, even when those professing to be most powerful medicine-men, earnestly desire it. It comes only during sleep, in a fainting fit, during a loud clap of thunder, or in the delirious excitement of some passion; but never without some definite purpose, as to foment dissensions, or exasperate to deeds of violence, or to obtain some corporal advantage; favors which are always {268} purchased at the expense of the soul. Much exaggeration is, of course, clearly characteristic of those misnamed effects of preternatural power. Most of those that came under my notice, and which the Indians attributed to preternatural agency, were the effects of causes purely natural. Notwithstanding these deplorable disorders of the soul, it is my greatest consolation to reflect, that these superstitious practices, in consequence of the many palpable contradictions they admit, become a spiritual malady, the least difficult to cure.

On the 5th of August, I left the Mission of the “Sacred Heart of Jesus,” accompanied by the Rev. Father Point. Three Indian families, desirous of visiting St. Mary’s, served us for guides. Our journey for some days, lay along the serpentine course of the river St. Ignatius, in the valley of the North. The soil of this valley is for the most part rich, and well adapted to cultivation, but subject to frequent inundations. Grain and potatos are here cultivated by the Indians with great success. Father Joset, assisted by the savages, has already enclosed and prepared for cultivation, a large field, capable of affording sustenance to several Indian families. Our hopes, then, of seeing {269} these poor Indians furnished with a plentiful supply of provisions, and their wandering habits thereby checked, will with the blessing of God, be realized at no very distant day. To attain the desirable object of uniting them in villages, and thus forming them to habits of industry, we need, however, more means than we possess at present—we are very much in want of seeds of various kinds, and of agricultural implements.

Before arriving at the snow-capped chain of mountains, which separates the Cœur d’Alenes from the Flat-Heads, we wound our way for two days, through forests almost impenetrable and over immense beds of rock, always following the course of the river, except where its tortuous windings would lead us too circuitous a route.[299] So tortuous indeed is its course here, that in less than eight hours, we crossed it no less than forty-four times. The majestic cedars that shade the gorge at this point are truly prodigious, most of them measure from twenty to thirty feet in circumference, with a proportionate height, and so numerous, that as the rays of the sun cannot penetrate the dense mass, perpetual night may be said, without exaggeration, to reign here. I doubt whether the {270} owl could have selected a more fitting abode, certainly none so majestic or mysterious. The death-like silence of this glen, broken only by the passing breeze, the occasional visit of some wild animal, or the constant murmuring of the rills from the rocky banks, impress the beholder with feelings of a most unearthly yet pleasing nature.

With much difficulty and fatigue we forced a passage through this dense mass of forest, stooping half the time upon the neck of the horse, to avoid the low thorny branches, so thickly crossed together, that one is inclined at first sight, to abandon all hope of wedging his way through them. Its termination brought us to the foot of the great chain of mountains. It occupied us nearly another day to ascend this by a narrow winding path, which is shaded by one of the finest forests in Oregon. Towards sunset we reached the top, where we pitched our camp, within a few paces of one of those immense snow masses, that perpetually shroud this lofty chain. Here we enjoyed a most magnificent view—the horizon for some hundred miles around presented a spectacle of surpassing grandeur: as far as the eye could reach, a long succession of mountains, towering cliffs, {271} and lofty pinnacles, exhibited their dazzling snow-capped summits to our astonished vision. The very silence of this vast wilderness strikes the beholder with feelings of deep sublimity; not even a breeze stirred to break the charm of this enchanting view. I shall never forget the splendor of the scene we witnessed, as the last rays of the setting sun were throwing their full lustre upon the myriads of pinnacles that ranged far away towards the distant horizon.

The descent on the eastern side of this mountain is less abrupt, presenting slopes of rich verdure, adorned with a great variety of plants and flowers. This descent also occupied us an entire day. We next arrived at a forest, a twin-sister, if I may be allowed the expression, of the one I have just described. Here the river St. Francis Regis meanders through innumerable hoary cedars, pine trees, and an impenetrable thicket of bushes of every species. With the happiest recollections, we finally encamped on the banks of the St. Mary’s river, in the Flat-Head valley—the nursery of our first missionary operations in the Far West.[300]

In my next, I propose giving you some details of the present condition of our first children in God, the good and deserving Flat-Heads. {272} I recommend myself to God in your prayers.

I remain, with profound respect and esteem, reverend and dear Father, your very humble servant, and brother in Christ,

_P. J. De Smet, S. J._

No. XXII

LETTER OF THE REV. FATHER POINT, S. J., MISSIONARY IN OREGON

Village of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, ⸺, 1845.

I learn by letters from Europe, that you take a lively interest in our dear missions. From this, I conclude that you will be very glad to learn some of those things which are passing amongst us. I take the more pleasure, because I can detail what my own eyes have witnessed, and because I can give a new proof of a truth, which you love to extend, viz., that it is to their devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, that the pastors of souls are indebted for the consolations they enjoy: this will explain the wonders of mercy of which they are witnesses.

You know already the history of the _Flat-Heads_; truly their conversion is the result of a wonderful outflowing of the riches of grace; but I do not hesitate to say, that the conversion {274} of the _Pointed-Hearts_ is a still more striking indication of God’s love to man. What were these savages less than a quarter of a century ago? They had hearts so hard, that if their first visitors have undertaken to give a true description of them, they could not find an expression more just, than is the singular name which they bear to this day. Their knowledge was so limited, that, giving themselves up to the worship of animals they had no idea of the true God nor of their soul, much less of a future life; finally they were a race of men, so degenerate that they had barely two or three notions of the whole natural law, and almost all were strangers to it in practice.

What a different aspect they now present! I will not say that they are perfect: that would be an exaggeration even in the eyes of persons little versed in the knowledge of the human heart. Everybody knows, that people who are converted, always retain something of their primitive character, and that the defects of education are not corrected except by a long course of years; but I say to the glory of Him, who can change the hardest rocks into children of Abraham, that, at this day, our _Pointed-Hearts_ are true believers.

{275} It is only two years since the cross was planted on their soil, and all, with a very few exceptions, have made their first communion.

About fifteen years ago, several missionaries begged to be employed among the savages. A new doctrine was soon spread among the Pointed-Hearts, telling them that there is but one God, who has, beyond the earth we see, two things which we do not see:—a place for the good, and a place for the bad; that the Son of God, in all respects like his Father, seeing all men running in the bad road, came down from Heaven to put them in the right way; but that in order to effect this, it was necessary for him to die upon a cross. One evening, all the families, who were dispersed in different directions, for fishing, for hunting, and gathering roots, assembled upon the ground of an old chief called Ignatius,[301] to see the author of this news. Regardless of fatigue, they prolonged their sitting to the silence of the night, and listened to all the details of the glorious message.

God is great—Jesus Christ is good:—two truths the admission of which seemed to be the result of the first sitting: was this, indeed, the case? Not so much, perhaps, as would have been desirable: for before the families separated, {276} Heaven sent a scourge, which struck with death a great number of them. At the moment it raged with the greatest violence, one of the dying—since named Stephen—heard a voice from above, which said: “Cast down thy idols; adore Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be cured.” The dying man believed the word, and was cured. He went about the camp and related what had taken place: all the sick who heard him imitated his example, and recovered their health. I have this fact from the mouth of the savage who heard the voice from heaven, and the same has been confirmed by eye-witnesses, who could say, “I, myself, have been the object of that wonder, and my eyes have seen the mountain at the foot of which the idols were cast down.”

The savage takes little notice of an event which does not strike him in a sensible manner; but what I have related was marked by two such peculiar characters, that it left traces in the memory of all. However, neither constancy nor reflection is to be found in the savage. After some years of fidelity to the impressions received, the greater part returned to their former idolatry. This retrograde movement was accelerated by the medicine-men—a kind {277} of charlatans, who set themselves up for physicians and prophets, and pretend to perform wonderful things, especially, to cure the sick by their skill and supernatural power. At the word of one of the chiefs, who, probably, had not ceased to be an idolater, the men convoked an assembly of those who were called believers, in which it was resolved to return to their ancient practices; and, from that moment, the animals of the country, now become again divine, re-entered into possession of their ancient honors. The mass of the tribe, had, indeed, no confidence in them; but, either through fear of the medicine-men, or by natural curiosity, they took part, at least by their presence, in the sacrilegious worship paid to them. Happily, choice souls were always among them to intercede with Heaven for their deluded brethren; I know many, who, from the time in which God was pleased to manifest himself among them, have not the least faults upon their consciences, with which to reproach themselves.

Such was pretty nearly the condition of the people when Providence sent among them the Rev. Father De Smet. His visit, the circumstances of which have been related elsewhere, {278} disposed them so much in favor of the _Black-gowns_, that it was determined I should be sent to their aid. Three months after, that is, at the close of the hunting expeditions of the autumn of 1842, I left St. Mary’s to place the new converts under the protection of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

The same day I entered their territory, the first Friday of November, I made with three chiefs who came to seek me, the promised consecration, and on the first Friday of December, in the midst of chants and prayers, the cross was raised on the borders of a lake, where the poor savages had united for fishing. Thanks be to God, we can say, that the miraculous draught of St. Peter was spiritually renewed. For they spoke no more of their assemblies of impostors, their diabolical visions, nor superstitious ceremonies, which had before been so common; and most important of all, gambling, which had always occupied a great portion of their time, was two weeks afterwards, abandoned; the conjugal bond, which for centuries, perhaps, had known among them neither unity nor indissolubility, was brought back to its primitive character. A beautiful sight was presented by the _medicine-men_ themselves, {279} who with their own hands, did justice to the wretched instruments hell had used to deceive them. During the long nights of that period, it will not be necessary to tell how many sacrifices were made of feathers, wolves’ tails, stags’ feet, deer’s hoofs, wooden images, &c.

Scarcely was the bad tree cut down and thrown into the fire, than a blessing on their temporal affairs was united to that of their spiritual. In one day three hundred deer became the prey of the hunters.

The first days of spring, the reunion of the people at the place agreed on for the construction of a village was more numerous than the first. It was formed upon the ancient plans in Paraguay, and each one, according to his strength and industry, contributed towards its construction. Trees were felled, roads opened, a church erected, and the public fields were sown; and, thanks to the piety of our savages, Holy Week, Easter, Ascension, and Pentecost were celebrated with becoming solemnity. In truth, things went so well, that the enemy of men, perceiving his prey escape him, redoubled his efforts. We experienced some loss in consequence of a storm; but after a partial destruction, {280} the storm only resulted in purifying the atmosphere.

Towards the end of October, 1844, one hundred families of the Pointed-Hearts reunited in one village. The sight of their little lodges around the house of God, brought to mind the touching idea of the pelican in the desert. Young and old united to make their first communion, or renew it. Many had already acquired a certain degree of instruction, but the greater portion, especially of the old, were far from being sufficiently instructed; and the time the Black-gown had to prepare them before the great winter chase, was November and December, for the chase could not be put off, it is essential to the life of a savage. It was necessary, then, to hasten, and choose the shortest method of instructing them.

Everybody knows the savage has the eye of a lynx, and never forgets what he has once seen; therefore when he attaches any idea to a sensible sign, he can always recall it as soon as he sees the sign under his eyes; thus they have a wonderful facility in speaking by signs, and a great inclination to render their thoughts by images: upon this faculty I based my system of instruction. I made images, representing {281} what they ought to believe. Some of these represented the faults and vices they ought to shun, others the virtues they should practice. After this, with a little stick in my hand, I explained my representations, and tried to adapt myself to the understanding of all.

(See Letter 21)]

The success of this method surpassed my expectation: for, having made the most intelligent repeat what I had said, I had the pleasure to see that they lost nothing of what was essential, and immediately I formed classes for repetition. The first repetition was made immediately after the instruction; the second in their lodges, the third by the chiefs in their harangues, and the fourth at the beginning of the next instruction.

The plan was insisted upon, and rapid progress made, not only in their instruction, but also in their morals. Those who exhorted joined to their exhortations the force of private example, so that the mass of the people seemed to be led on, by attraction.

From the 9th of September to the time in which I write—a period of six months—not one single fault, which can be called serious, so far as my knowledge extends, has been committed in the village of the Sacred Heart of Jesus; and a great many, who reproached themselves {282} with light failings, cease not to make public confession in terms of grief, which it would be desirable to see the greater culprits exhibit at the tribunal of penance. I have seen husbands come after their wives, and mothers after their daughters, not to excuse the accusations which they had made, but to acknowledge that their want of patience and humility were the cause of the failings of the others.

It is worthy of remark that [of] all the adults, who had not yet received baptism, and all who united to prepare for their first communion, not one was judged unworthy to receive the sacraments. Their simplicity, piety, charity, and especially their faith, were admirable. And truly all these virtues were necessary for these good old men, who, for the sake of learning their prayers, had to become the scholars of their children, and for the children to enable them to do violence to their natural vivacity, while they slowly communicated to their old parents and grandparents, a part of what they had learned; and the chiefs would rise at the dawn of day, and sometimes in the middle of the night, to exhort their _people to weep over their sins_.

I have spoken of their faith. How pure and {283} above all, how confiding it was! The first idea, necessary to impress on their minds was, that the goodness of God is not less great than his power, and they were so convinced of it, that they begged God to perform miracles, as they would beg their daily bread. They were told, that the sacrament of extreme unction had the power not only to purify the soul, but to restore health to the body; it did not occur to them to doubt of the one more than of the other.

They have great faith in the sign of the cross. They are accustomed to make it at the beginning of their prayers, and of all their principal actions. Not satisfied with making it themselves, their children can scarcely pronounce a word, before they teach them to articulate the words of the sign of the cross. I saw a father and mother bending over the cradle of an only son, who was about to die. They made their best efforts to suggest to him to make the sign of the cross, and the child having raised his little hand to his forehead, made the consoling sign and immediately expired.

A woman, sitting near the grave of her only daughter, was conversing with her little boy, whom she had that day presented at the baptismal font. “See,” said she, “my child, how {284} happy it is to die after being baptized! If you should die to-day, you would see again our little Clementia.” And the pious mother exhibited such a calmness in her tone of voice and countenance, that she seemed to have a foretaste of the happy abode of which she spoke.

Our infant church presented the picture of the purest virtues, when the happy period for which she sighed was approaching. The week preceding the celebration of the Immaculate Conception of the blessed Virgin Mary, was devoted to prepare the people for the reception of holy communion. The time, of course, did not admit of frequent instructions, long prayers and general confessions. The good Father Joset gave instructions. Their prayers were fervent, and experience had already taught them the necessity of true sorrow for past sins, which they exhibited in a lively manner at the confessional. I used all the exertions I could to prepare those whose understandings appeared more limited than the others; and their piety, calmness and perseverance, have put to flight all the fears which rested on my mind. The church was small; it measured in length fifty feet, and in breadth twenty-four. It was indeed, {285} poor, but from every part of the wall and ceiling, were suspended rich festoons of leaves. While the stars were still shining in the firmament, the chant, _Lauda Sion_, was heard. But who sung that divine canticle? The savages, who lately addressed their prayers only to the animals of their mountains. Go to the foot of the altar and see the new adorers, bowing their heads before the Eternal One. The representation of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and of the Cross on which he expired, raised their thoughts to the abode of glory, and caused them to center there all their affections. They approached the altar to receive holy communion with the greatest order and devotion. It was Father Joset who had happiness to distribute to them the bread of life, a happiness, so much the more felt, as he had just arrived among them. Before they approached the holy table, he addressed them a few words; but the tender piety apparent in all at the moment of communicating, made him fear to spoil the work of God by adding more words of his own, and he left them to their own devotion.

We recited the usual prayers for the intentions of the Church, and closed the morning services {286} by chanting again the _Lauda Sion_. The high mass was celebrated at ten o’clock.

In the evening took place the renovation of the promises of baptism. The church was illuminated, at least as well as our poverty would permit. The sacrament of baptism was conferred on twelve adults. After a preparatory instruction, instead of the ordinary formulas, which were a little difficult to be translated into the Indian language, all of them, to show their constant fidelity, recited three acts of love to God. In hearing them, we remarked, that like the prince of the Apostles, they replied to the three-fold enquiry of their Saviour. The holy sacrament was exposed. To the expression of unanimous and forcible love, their looks of piety directed towards the altar, seemed to add: O beauty! always ancient, always new! too late have we loved thee; but we will love thee forever! The benediction of the blessed sacrament followed, and closed that great and beautiful day, which had been so rich in every kind of spiritual gifts. It was with difficulty that these good souls left the place, which had, that day, been the witness of their prayers and promises. The Pointed-Hearts exhibited by their prayers, their canticles, and {287} their holy conversations, a foretaste of heavenly joys. They often came to visit the Black-gowns. Some days, I was surrounded by these visitors. They all waited in profound silence, till I had finished my office. One of them then chanted the first verse of _Lauda Sion_, in which all the voices joined. Thus, it is a consoling truth, that, at the extremities of the heathen world, as well as in the centre of civilization, the church puts forth a united effort for the conversion and salvation of mankind.

I am, devotedly yours, in Christ,

_N. Point._

No. XXIII

A. M. D. G.

Flat-Head Camp, Yellowstone River, September 6th, 1846.

REV. AND DEAR FATHER PROVINCIAL,—After an absence of about eighteen months, employed in visiting the various distant tribes, and extending among them the kingdom of Christ, I returned to the nursery, so to speak, of our Apostolic labors in the Rocky Mountains. Judge of the delight I experienced, when I found the little log church, we built five years ago, about to be replaced by another which will bear comparison with those in civilized countries, materials, everything ready to commence erecting it, the moment they can procure some ropes to place the heavy timbers on the foundation. Another agreeable surprise, however, yet awaited me; a mill had been constructed, destined to contribute largely to the increasing wants of the surrounding country. It is contrived to discharge {289} the two-fold charitable object of feeding the hungry and sheltering the houseless. The flour mill grinds ten or twelve bushels in a day; and the saw mill furnishes an abundant supply of plank, posts, etc., for the public and private building of the nation settled here.[302] Indeed, the location stood much in need of so useful a concern. The soil yields abundant crops of wheat, oats and potatos—the rich prairie here is capable of supporting thousands of cattle. Two large rivulets, now almost useless, can, with a little labor, be made to irrigate the fields, gardens, and orchards of the village. The stock at present on this farm, consists of about forty head of cattle, a fast-increasing herd of hogs and a prolific progeny of domestic fowl. In addition to the mill, twelve log houses, of regular construction, have been put up. Hence, you can form some idea of the temporal advantages enjoyed by the Flat-heads of St. Mary’s village.