The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents

—————

Travels and Explorations

of the Jesuit Missionaries

in New France

1610—1791

THE ORIGINAL FRENCH, LATIN, AND ITALI-

IAN TEXTS, WITH ENGLISH TRANSLA-

T10NS AND NOTES; ILLUSTRATED BY

PORTRAITS,   MAPS,   AND   FACSIMILES

EDITED BY

Reuben Gold Thwaites

Secretary of the State historical Society of Wisconsin

COMPUTERIZED TRANSCRIPT10N BY

Tomasz Mentrak

 

Vol. LXVIII.

Lower Canada, Crees, Louisiana

1720—1736

CLEVELAND:            The Burrows Brothers

Company, PUBLISHERS,    M  DCCCC

THE JESUIT RELAT10NS

AND

ALLIED DOCUMENTS

Vol. LXVIII

[Page iii]

The edition consists of sev-

en hundred and fifty sets

all numbered.

No.________

The Burrows Brothers Co.

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EDITORIAL STAFF

Editor	Reuben Gold Thwaites
	|  Finlow Alexander
	|  Percy Favor Bicknell
Translators.	|  William Frederic Giese
	|  Crawford Lindsay
	|  William Price
	|  Hiram Allen Sober
Assistant Editor	Emma Helen Blair
Bibliographical Adviser	Victor Hugo Paltsits
Electronic Transcription	Tomasz Mentrak

 

[Page v]

Copyright, 1899

by

The Burrows Company

—————

all rights reserved

The Imperial Press, Cleveland

[Page ]

 

CONTENTS OF VOL. LXVIII.
Preface To Volume LXVIII				9
Documents:—
CCII.	Relation du Saguenay, 1720 à 1730. Pierre Laure; Chekŏtimi, March 13, 1730				23
CCIII.	Lettre au Père d’Avaugour, Procureur des Missions de l’Amérique Septentrionale. Mathurin le Petit; Nouvelle Orleans, July 12, 1730				120
CCIV.	Lettre au R. p. Richard, provincial de la province de Guyenne, a Bourdeaux. Luc François Nau; Quebec, October 20, 1734				224
CCV.	Lettre au R. P. H. faye. J. Pierre Aulneau; Quebeck, April 25, 1735				236
CCVI.	Lettre au reverend pere Bonin. J. Pierre Aulneau; Quebeck, April 29, 1735				248
CCVII.	Lettre au reverend pere Bonin. J. Pierre Aulneau; Monreal, June 12, 1735				256
CCVIII.	Lettre au R. p. Benin. Luc François Nau; Sault St. Louis, October 2, 1735				260
CCIX.	Lettre au R, P, Bonin. J. Pierre Aulneau; Fort St. Charle, ches les Kriistinaux, April 30, 1736				286
CCX.	Epistola ad R, P. Franciscum Retz, Præsitum Generalem Societatis Iesu, Romæ. Mathurin le Petit; [Nouvelle Orleans, June 29, 1736]				308
CCXI.	Lettre à —————. Nicolas de Gonnor; Notre Dame de Laurette, [1736]				312
Bibliographical Data; Volume LXVIII					321
Notes					325

 

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ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. LIX.
	NONE

 

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PREFACE TO VOL. LXVIII

Following is a synopsis of the documents contained in this volume:

CCII. Pierre Laure writes to his superior a report (dated March 13, 1730) of the Saguenay mission, of which he has charge; it covers the nine years which he has spent there, He begins with a general description of the Saguenay region, which has but four permanent posts — Tadoussac, Chicoutimi, the Jérémie Islets, and the Moist River. Laure notes in detail the peculiar characteristics of the Saguenay River, and graphically describes some of his experiences in traveling on “this capricious river” in stormy weather. He also describes Lake St. John and some of its tributaries — especially one which rolls down in its waters many curiously-shaped stones. He gives an account of the Mistassin Indians and their religious beliefs; among them he finds a tradition of the deluge, and the assertion that on one of their mountains still lie some remains of “the great Canoe.” Laure praises their gentleness and simplicity, and especially admires their sobriety —  for, unlike other savages, they neither desire nor relish “fire-water. “One of the curiosities of their country is a cave of white marble, regarded with superstitious reverence by the savages. There are numerous medicine-men among this tribe, who [Page 9] practice “30 different kinds of jugglery” When questioned by the missionary, they candidly admit that their arts are fraudulent, and that they really have not seen any demons.

Laure, coming to the Saguenay in 1720 finds little trace of the religious training that was given to the Montagnais by Crépieul and other early missionaries; and they are much corrupted in morals. He finds drunkenness and licentiousness prevalent to an alarming extent. Unfortunately, these savages can hardly understand his Algonkin speech, and he cannot reach them with his instructions and rebukes. “Without a house, without assistance, without consolation, I pined away — solely through not being able to express the bitterness of my heart, otherwise than by the pallor of my countenance.” In this plight, Laure has recourse to his departed predecessor, Crépieul; “I went to the Church several times, and asked the venerable deceased to send me from Heaven his montagnais tongue, which was no longer of use to him. But the saints desire us to take the same trouble that they themselves have taken to become qualified to glorify God.” He finds, however, a mortal instructor, who “directed my studies in a masterly manner.” With this aid, he is able to preach to the savages, and to compose catechism and hymns in their language. Becoming ill in the winter, he goes in the spring to Quebec; but almost immediately has a presentiment that he is needed in his mission, and returns thither.

The Montagnais chief is converted, and dies most Piously, regretted by all, especially by his spiritual father. This is the beginning of an epidemic of [Page 10] illness which carries away over a score of savages, and gives the missionary little rest by day and night; for he is continually called upon to comfort the sick and bury the dead. He relates the particulars of some conversions occurring in this sad time. The various methods of sweating, the chief remedy of the savages, are carefully explained. After the epidemic is over, Laure is so prostrated by his arduous labors that his recently-acquired knowledge of the language temporarily forsakes him. The Indians accuse the French of selling them goods infected with contagion; and the missionary thinks that this charge is but too true, for the Frenchmen who open the bales are at once attacked by fever, and only those savages die who use these goods.

The Tadoussac mission, in its palmy days containing nearly 3,000 men, has been reduced by diseases to but twenty-five families. The ruins of the former Jesuit residence and church are still visible when Laure returns: he advocates the rebuilding of these edifices. He describes with much detail the appearance and habits of the seal, the manner in which it is hunted at Tadoussac, the usefulness of this animal, and the manufacture of the oil. Laure ascribes the ruin of the Tadoussac mission to the jealousy of some Frenchmen who thought that the missionary watched them too closely; they assigned the pretext that the Indians “were kept at prayers day and night, and were not allowed time to hunt.” But the savages themselves say that, “as they go to confession only once a year, and no longer see a priest on the rocks, they lose. heart and do not venture to go far from the shore, where alone the seals are to be [Page 11] found.” For this reason, the annual product of seal-oil has diminished to a small fraction of the amount obtained when the mission was carried on.

After leaving Tadoussac, Laure goes to the Jérémie Islets, among the Papinachois — whose origin he ascribes to some Basque fisherman, who, “ship- wrecked on their shores with some Eve, has been their unfortunate Adam.” Among these people Laure finds great interest in the gospel, and the utmost kindness toward himself. He undertakes to reëstablish the Chicoutimi mission, in which he is greatly aided by the coöperation and excellent judgment of the clerk in the trading post there. A plain but well-appointed church, and a house for the missionary, are built (1726-28). “A large number of resident savages would complete his happiness;” but there is nothing for them to live upon. He suggests that the trading company would do well to support the Indians here, during three months of the year, “in order to prevent their completely destroying the summer beaver, whose fur is worthless.” He also urges that a small fund be established for supporting and instructing Montagnais children during the winter, that they may become preachers of Christian doctrine among their relatives.

Laure proposes to his superior the extension of the Saguenay mission. He desires to go to Labrador, “where I know that great results can be obtained;” a new missionary could take his place at Chicoutimi, with the aid of Laure’s Montagnais writings.

CCIII. A letter from Mathurin le Petit to D’Avaugour (dated at New Orleans, July 12, 1730) gives a report of the Louisiana missions. The event of most importance therein is the terrible massacre by [Page 12] the Natches Indians (October 28, 1729) of the French People settled among them, over two hundred in number. The relation of this is preceded by an account of those savages, their character, customs, and religion.

The Natches tribe “Is the only one on this continent which appears to have any regular worship.” They worship the sun, and their chief of highest rank styles himself “Brother of the Sun” — arrogating to himself therewith despotic authority. At his death, his servants are strangled, that they may follow him in that capacity to the other world. They believe in the immortality of the soul, with rewards or punishments in its future existence. Their crops are planted together in one large field, and all assemble to collect the harvest. The first fruits gathered are presented to the temple, and then distributed according to the orders of the great chief. Marriages are a matter of barter, the husband paying a stipulated price in peltries or goods. Polygamy is prevalent among the chiefs — the support of their wives and children costing them nothing, because they have “the right to oblige the people to cultivate their fields, without giving them any wages.”

Le petit gives a long account of the customs observed by this people in carrying on their wars. The captives whom they bring home are made slaves; but, if given to the relatives of dead warriors, the captives are burned to death. The medicine-man flourish here, as among other savage tribes; “all their art consists in different juggleries” — in dancing, singing, smoking tobacco, and invocations to their fetiches. Other jugglers undertake, by similar means, to procure favorable weather. Both [Page 13] these classes of conjurors are composed of old men, or those too indolent to work. When successful, their gain is considerable; but, if they fail, their heads are cut off. Ambassadors from other tribes are received by the Natches Indians with numerous and elaborate ceremonies, in which the calumet, or peace-pipe, is conspicuous.

Having furnished this preliminary information, Le Petit narrates the particulars of the terrible vengeance taken by these savages for the injustice shown them by a tyrannical French commandant. They form a conspiracy, even with other tribes, to exterminate the French settlers; “and in less than two hours they massacred more than two hundred of the French.” Among these are the commandant at the Natches village, one of the earliest grantees on the Mississippi estates, and the Jesuit priest Du Poisson. The savages spare two Frenchmen, a tailor and a carpenter; they kill such women as have nursing children, or are not in good health, and enslave all the others. A few French fugitives escape, one of whom is aided to reach New Orleans by some Yazoo Indians whom he encounters. They assure him that they will remain faithful to the French; but no sooner do they return to their own village than they form a plot to murder the Frenchmen there. On December 11, they murder their missionary, Father Souel, and, on the next day, the garrison at the French post near their village. Soon afterward, they attack the Jesuit Doutreleau, on his way to New Orleans, who narrowly escapes them with his life.

As soon as Perrier, the governor at New Orleans, hears of the savages’ treachery, he takes all possible measures to defend the colony. All other French [Page 14] Posts along the Mississippi are warned; guns and ammunition are distributed in the city and on the Plantations; two ships are despatched to the Yazoo River; fortifications are erected not only at New Orleans, but on the plantations; and companies of militia are organized. All the available soldiers are mustered to proceed against the Natches, Meanwhile, Le Sueur conducts 700 Choctaw warriors thither, to secure the release of the French prisoners; this is accomplished, on January 27, 1730, the Choctaws taking the Natches village by surprise, and capturing and killing a considerable number of their men. On February 8, the French troops, with some savage allies, arrive: but, finding many difficulties in their siege of the village, a mutual agreement is reached (February 25), by which the French receive their remaining captives, and withdraw —  building, however, a fort on a bluff near by, to secure control of the great river. The Choctaw allies go to New Orleans, to receive payment for their services; they disgust the French by their vanity, greed for gain, and insolence. The Natches had been joined in their revolt by some negro slaves; three of these, the ringleaders, are abandoned to the ’ Choctaws, who have “burned them alive, with a degree of cruelty which has inspired all the negroes with a new horror of the Savages, but which will have a beneficial effect in securing the safety of the colony.” Some Natches prisoners are also burned by the savages allied to the French; and the writer adds, “our own people, it is said, begin to be accustomed to this barbarous spectacle.” The French women enslaved by the Natches return to New Orleans, and “many of them were in great haste to [Page 15] marry again.” The little girls made orphans by the massacre are placed in charge of the Ursuline nuns, since “none of the habitants wish to adopt” these children. A warm eulogy is bestowed upon these devoted nuns, who, only seven in number, are overloaded with cares and labors.

The Chickasaw Indians are endeavoring to seduce the Illinois tribes from their loyalty to the French; but they refuse to listen to these overtures, and even send ambassadors to assure the French of their fidelity and devotion, and to offer their aid in fighting the Natches. The piety of these ambassadors edifies all the French people, and Le Petit admits that many of the latter “are not so well instructed in religion as are these neophytes.” One of these Illinois savages has visited France, and his tribesmen refuse to believe the wonderful stories that he tells them, on his return, about what he saw there.

The Natches have fled to the Red River, and dwell there in three forts. “This war has retarded the French colony; nevertheless, we flatter ourselves that this misfortune will be productive of benefit, by determining the Court to send the forces necessary to tranquilize the colony and render it flourishing.” Troops are now on the way from France.

CCIV. Luc Francois Nau, who has just arrived in Canada, writes (October 20, 1734) to his provincial, describing the long and arduous voyage which he and several other priests have made. He narrates the discomforts they endured from close and crowded quarters; the stench and vermin proceeding from a crowd of military recruits, and another of released Prisoners, who are being shipped to the American colonies; the ship-fever which rages throughout the [Page 16] vessel, and carries off many persons; and the annoyance caused to the officers and the priests by certain abbés of the bishop’s suite — ignorant, conceited, and quarrelsome men, “whom he had collected from the streets of paris.” Nau relates various items of news regarding the mission stations assigned to himself (Sault St. Louis) and to other priests; a proposed expedition to the Western Sea; and rumors about white men who dwell in the great unexplored region beyond the Mississippi.

CCV. Pierre Aulneau announces (April 25, 1735) to a friend his near departure for the West, where he is to undertake a mission among the Sioux. His first effort will be to learn the languages of these and other Western tribes, who are almost entire strangers to the French. He asks his friend to urge in France that more missionaries be sent to America, where they are greatly needed; seven or eight of the missions there have been abandoned, for lack of workers. Aulneau praises the zeal and devotion of those who are engaged in this holy enterprise, and especially thus mentions the late Father Guesnier. The death of this priest is mourned by all, and his garments, and even his hair, are eagerly seized as holy relics by the people of Quebec and vicinity.

CCVI. Aulneau sends to another Jesuit, named Bonin, a similar letter, but giving more details of his proposed Western journey, which is one of exploration as much as of missionary labors.

CCVII. A short letter (dated June 12, 1735) from Aulneau to the same friend, is written from Montreal, on his way to the West. News has arrived, after a silence of three years, from Guignas, who has [Page 17] repeatedly been in danger of death from the Sacs and Foxes. He is worn out with hardships and sufferings; but there is no one who can be sent to relieve him. Aulneau asks his correspondent to send him the computations for eclipses visible in France and America, that he may use them to determine longitudes in the wilderness.

CCVIII. Nau writes (October 2, 1735) to Bonin a long account of the mission at Sault St. Louis (Caughnawaga). With this, he incidentally gives considerable information about the climate of Canada, the physical and mental characteristics of the Iroquois in his mission, their costumes, etc. “The Iroquois and hurons are more inclined to the practice of virtue than other nations; they are the only savages capable of refined feelings; all the others are to be set down as Cowardly, ungrateful, and voluptuous. If there were no french in Canada, we would have as many saints in our mission as we now have Christians; but the bad example and the solicitations of the french are a Very great obstacle to the sanctification of our Iroquois,” Notwithstanding the punishments imposed on Frenchmen who sell liquor to the Indians, — flogging, the galleys, etc., —  “still our savages find all the brandy they want; and, as soon as they are drunk, they are capable of any crime.”

Nau is adopted by the tribe, and receives the name of Hatériata, “the brave man.” He recounts the pious exercises and duties of his mission, which include his ministry to the French people settled at the Sault. The savages are unusually proficient in church music, even more so than the whites; “neither Cordeliers nor nuns ever sang as do our Iroquois men [Page 18] and women,” in both richness of tone and correct rendering of the notes. They raise domestic animals, as the French do; the winters they spend in hunting. They aid the French in every quarrel with other tribes, but they still make war through stratagem and surprise. They send a party to the Fox war; but these warriors lose their way, and accomplish nothing. The slaves taken in war “furnish the majority of the adults whom we instruct for baptism in the village.”

The Iroquois tribes in their own country “are visibly on the decrease, on account of their incessant quarrels and the use of intoxicants supplied by the English.” Those at the Sault use Huron rather than their own language, in the church services, Nau is endeavoring to master both tongues, and must also attempt to instruct the slaves who are brought to the village, who seldom can learn the Iroquois language. He relates what information he can give about the various missionaries in New France. La Richardie has gathered at Detroit the scattered Hurons, and converted them all, six hundred in number. At that post are now seventy French families, besides the fort and garrison: the Récollet Fathers are in charge there. Aulneau has gone to the Northwest. Nau has seen La Vérendrye, commandant of that region, who says, “The western sea would have been discovered long ago, if people had wished it. Monsieur the Count de Maurepas is right when he says that the officials in Canada are looking not for the western sea, but for the sea of beaver.” As for the Ottawas and Sioux, the missionaries there “have managed to convert but a few old men and women who are beyond the age of [Page 19] sinning,” and they baptize some children at the point of death; but “those who recover seldom fail later to fall away from the faith.”

CCIX. Another letter to Bonin, from Aulneau, is written (April 30, 1736) from Fort St. Charles among the Crees, “on the southwest side of lake of the woods.” He reaches that place by way of Lake Superior, after a journey of four months from Montreal. He has spent the winter at Fort St. Charles, —  a rough stockade, and a group of wretched cabins —  southwest of Lake of the Woods; and he intends to go for the summer to Lake Winnipeg, to evangelize the Assiniboines and Crees. In the following December, he is planning to go with some of the former tribe to another savage nation, apparently dwelling on the Columbia River; and he hopes thus to reach the ocean.

As for the savages northwest of Lake Superior, “and especially the Kristinaux [Crees], I do not believe that, unless it be by miracle, they can ever be persuaded to embrace the faith; . . . they are superstitious and morally degraded, to a degree beyond conception . . . Both English and French, by their accursed avarice, have given them a taste for brandy, and have thus been instrumental in adding to their other vices that of drunkenness; so that brandy is their only topic of conversation, the sole object of their petitions; nor can they ever be counted upon unless they receive enough to get drunk on.” Those tribes have notions of heaven and hell; but these are absurd and material to the last degree. Aulneau is “the first missionary who has as yet undertaken to systematize the language of the Kristinaux;” but he has poor facilities for [Page 20] learning it, as all the men have spent most of the winter in an expedition against their enemies the Sioux. Their only idol is the demon; and their fear of him prevents them from paying homage to the one God. Aulneau hopes that a fellow-worker may be sent him, another year. He has a presentment that death is near — which, as we shall see, was fulfilled soon after he wrote this letter.

CCX. Le Petit announces (June 29, 136), to the general of his order, the loss of two workers in the Western missions: Gabriel Guymoneau, for twenty years a minister to the Illinois tribes; and Antoine Senat, a colleague of the former, who was, on Palm Sunday, burned at the stake by the hostile Chickasaws.

CCXI. Nicolas de Gonnor writes to a priest in France, announcing the death of Aulneau, who has been murdered by a band of Sioux Indians, and desiring his friend to tell this sad news to Aulneau’s family. Little more is known about his death than the fact that he and his party of twenty Frenchmen were slain — probably surprised at night; and that other Frenchmen, passing that way, found the dead bodies.

R. G. T.

MADISON, WIS., May, 1900

[Page 21]

CCII

Relation du Saguenay, 1720-30

Par le R. P. Pierre Laure

Chekŏtimi le 13^e de mars 1730

—————

Source: We follow the original MS, in the archives of St. Mary’s College, Montreal. [Page 23]

Relation of the Saguenay, 1720 to 1730, by

Reverend Father Pierre Laure.

Chekoutimi, march 13, 1730.

M

y Reverend Father,

                                                Pax Christi.

Your Reverence is aware of the fact that we write from here to Quebec only once every winter, However late the occasion, I beg you to accept the respectful homage which I already presented to you in my heart at the beginning of this year, which I repeat to-day, and which I shall continue to render you until death. If anything can be desired for you, I offer a thousand wishes for you. Yours are and must be orders, for me.

Instead of commanding me, you, as it were, begged of me — while yourself accompanying me, out of exceeding kindness, to the beach where I was to embark on leaving the town last autumn for my mission — to write to you what I had found most edifying among our Montagnais. I understood that you wished to have a simple narration of what had occurred in this triple Church during the nine years that have elapsed since Providence confided the care thereof to me. I obey you; and could I, for a moment, hesitate to satisfy your pious curiosity, and to give you at least some slight proof of my esteem for you, of my submission, and of my gratitude for all the kindness that you have so long manifested toward me? Without roaming the forests, you, My Reverend [Page 25] Father, are equal to many missionaries through the care that you, like a true father, take of your children — who are scattered, but whom you bear, all united together, in your heart. Consequently, what would we not say, had we to repeat your Praises? I shall therefore render you a summary account of my years’ labors, happy if I had a multitude of true converts to present to Your Reverence as a new year’s gift.

The King’s Domain — which here comprises the whole depth of the north shore, and extends from the lower end of Ile aux Coudres to the Seven Islands — contains but 4 posts solidly established: Tadoussak, Chekoutimi, the Jérémie Islets or Papinachois, and the Moisy River. At these various points The farming Company, or Company of the West, maintains warehouses, clerks, and other french employees, for the purpose of hunting and trading with the Savages belonging to each district.[1] For 20 years, to tell the truth, no missionary had been seen there; at last, one was asked for. As I was the only unemployed one at the college, the lot fell upon me, Reverend Father de la Chasse, then Superior of our missions, — animated by that zeal which, after leading him to conceal so many admirable talents that he has received from heaven, and to endure so many and so protracted labors among the Savages, still makes him regret to-day that his duties are confined solely to the french of the colony — made me leave on the 1st of june, 1720, for Chekoutimy.

This post — which lies to the north, and at least 60 leagues from Quebec — is not remarkable in any way, except for a certain number of savages who, from time to time, for the purpose of purchasing what they need, come here with their rich furs from [Page 27] various places, by the little rivers that flow into this famous Saguené — whereof no attempt has yet been made, to my knowledge, to draw an accurate and complete chart.[2] Much that is curious might be said of it, did not the sole information which only Your Reverence expects from me, limit me to my subject. I cannot however refrain from giving you some idea of it.

This river, then, which takes its rise in Lake Piékwagami, — which Father de Crespieuil, whose apostolic sweat for 30 years watered the surrounding forests, called Lake St. John — this river, I say, is, properly speaking, only 25 leagues in length as far as Tadoussac, from a deep basin formed by a chain of mountains, intersected by streams and rivers. Among these streams, to the north-northeast, is that of Chekoutimy, which falls in two cascades — which, issuing from the same river and separating, form the Island whereon we dwell, — and then flows to add, at 9 leagues from these falls, its fresh water to the Salt Saguené.

At The mouth of that river is the alleged capital of the Province of Saguené — I mean Tadoussac, which consists of merely a wooden dwelling and a storehouse. It must be admitted, however, that its situation is very fine, and very well suited for a town. The harbor is spacious, healthful, safe, and sheltered from every wind; medium-sized vessels anchor, at high water, at the foot of the hill. This was the place where the english formerly came to trade with the Savages. A hole in a rock, in which they had placed a mooring-post for their ships, is still to be seen there; and only two years ago there was found, in the sand disturbed by a high wave, their iron chain about 30 brasses in length, and thick [Page 29]  in proportion. Here also the Saguené falls impetuously into the river St. Lawrence; and with the rising tides the St. Lawrence fills it so rapidly that, after many observations, it has been remarked that during flood-tide it is high water at Tadoussac and Chekoutimi within about a quarter of an hour of the same time, although the distance is nearly 30 leagues. It is not surprising that this should happen, in spite of the distance.

The Saguené being nearly a league wide at certain parts of its mouth, and so deep that it cannot be sounded, the flood-tide, entering with excessive rapidity, — as if into a chasm with a wider entrance, —  pushes back the descending waters with great force. Accordingly, as these are forced back in succession, it is high tide at Chekoutimi — where the bottom is shallower, and the bed of the river narrower —  almost at the same time as at Tadoussac, where the water rises more slowly, and where a greater volume is needed to fill the deep bays there, and the full breadth of the river, which is more than 8 or 10 leagues wide at that place.

The mountains between which the Saguené runs are so high and so steep that the largest trees on their summits do not appear from below to be thicker than one’s leg; and about 7 o’clock in the evening in summer, if one be at all near the shore on the south side, or unless one be far out, it is difficult to read in a canoe. In some of the clefts of the rocks, where the sun never shines, are many veins of very fine and very white saltpeter. Hardly a spring passes without some landslides happening through natural causes; and the noise they make is louder than the report of a cannon, while they diffuse in the [Page 31]  neighborhood an odor exactly like that of gunpowder. The heat between these two chains of mountains, most of which are bare and inaccessible, is so great that the gum on the canoes often melts at the surface of the water. Nature seems to have contrived favorable and convenient stopping-places for travelers. With the exception of a single stretch of 4 or 5 leagues, to which it would be dangerous to confide oneself too headlessly, and whence in the event of a sudden storm it would be well-nigh impossible to escape in a bark canoe, nature provides here and there small sandy ports, where one can conveniently put in. These landings are more accessible on the north side, Anchorage for vessels can be found almost everywhere; the largest ships, in case of need, would be fortunate to find refuge there — as, during the war, when the English unsuccessfully besieged Quebec, did the french ships that arrived too late to be of use. The remains of their barracks and their batteries can still be seen, z leagues this side of Tadoussac. At low tide, it is more difficult to disembark; it is sometimes necessary to carry one’s baggage a very long distance, over slippery stones covered with those slimy plants that we call “sea-wrack.” But on the other hand, as a compensation, providence has at nearly all these spots placed fire-wood; and little brooks, — which, flowing from the swamps where the beaver dwell, fall from the tops of the cliffs, to refresh and rejoice tired travelers.

The northwest and northeast winds are the only ones that blow on the Saguené; the others are either but slightly felt or at least are never violent. During the many journeys that I have made, I have seen only the 2 former exceedingly treacherous, stormy, [Page 33]  and lasting. As soon as either of these winds begins to blow, caution is necessary, however favorable it may be especially if the sky be overcast, and there be any appearance of a storm. For then, as at sea, the waters roar, rise and foam; and, by the conflicts of a thousand waves, pursuing and following one another, or breaking successively one after another, they warn the canoemen to paddle vigorously, and reach land quickly. May I venture, my Reverend Father, to give you one or two instances of it?

During the first year of my mission, between the trips that I made to Tadoussac for the consolation of my neophytes, I was called one day to go to a sick man in urgent need. As I had, as yet, no experience of the danger to be encountered on this capricious river, I wished to hasten my journey; and although I had only an old canoe for 4 paddlers. I had to travel at night. The weather was fine, and the moon at its full showed no sign of a squall. Meanwhile my 2 Savage canoemen were falling asleep. Tired of awakening them at every moment, I at last allowed them to give way to slumber. I took a paddle, and paddled and steered, allowing the current of the tide, which helped me, to drift me along. Some time afterward, one of my men awoke, and took his paddle; and, as it is the custom of the Savages, who are exceedingly independent among themselves, never to say anything to one another about work, for fear of giving offense, he begged me to rouse the other. I did so, and being in my turn overcome by drowsiness, and seeing only an easy navigation, I rested my head and arms on one of the thwarts of the canoe. I had barely fallen asleep when — as I understood as yet but a few [Page 35] words of the montagnais language respecting the management of canoes — I thought that my people were quarreling. I arose, and spoke; but I saw no longer either sky, or water, or rocks, — nothing but profound darkness, caused by a storm which arose suddenly from the northwest, “We are lost, my father,” they called out to me. “Let us land quickly, my children,” I replied. We could see no landing-place, owing to the darkness of the night; and moreover we were at the deepest part of the Saguené. The storm-cloud grew denser, and seemed about to touch us while it rumbled behind us. We fortunately were near the rocks; but, when I tried to land on the first one we touched, my foot slipped and I fell into the water. The canoeman, who had but one arm, hastily shoved the stump, which was as good as a hand, under my armpit, drew me out, and threw me on a point of rocks whereon we placed our canoe. I was astonished to see my 2 Savages sleeping peacefully during the remainder of the night, while I felt the blood flow from a leg which had been injured by striking too hard against a rock; and I could not dress the wound, because there was no fire. My sole fear was that the storm would carry away our canoe; for, in that case, what would have become of us? But divine goodness took pity on the father and on the children, who were not yet ripe for heaven. The storm passed, at a distance; and when day came I was surprised to see ourselves in a kind of niche, and could not help laughing at our fortunate misfortune. Although the falling tide had left us from 10 to twelve feet above the water, we carried down our canoe, the Chapel, and the remainder of the baggage, by means of a small gully down [Page 37] which we slid gently, and reëmbarked. From there we proceeded to Tadoussac; and the missionary administered the last sacraments to the sick Savage, who died a few days afterward. I then returned to Chekoutimi, in the middle of the same river. The northeast wind, accompanied by rain, assailed us so violently that two thwarts of the canoe were broken before We could land. As we were almost submerged, I was about to give absolution to my two men — who, knowing the danger better than I did, were also more frightened, and exhorted me to make them pray well to God. I confess that to their faith and confidence in the blessed virgin and the Blessed Régis we were indebted for our preservation. I quickly tightened the canoe with my girdle and my garters; I handled the sail, and we drove through the waves that, at times, broke over us. Finally, we reached a savage cabin, where our canoe was emptied and repaired, while we dried ourselves near a great fire — which those dear neophytes made for us, with manifestations of sincere compassion. Being thus well informed of what was to be dreaded on that river, I reached my Church, wrongly resolved to be wiser in future. I say “wrongly,” because in certain cases it is prudent not to be too prudent. Timidity might cause the failure of some good work; and an hour’s delay has compelled travelers who had almost reached their destination to be kept back and to suffer from hunger. Not that it is unnecessary to take wise precautions. Temerity has caused the destruction of many here, both french and savages.

I had the honor of telling you in the first Place, My Reverend Father, that the Saguené took its rise in Lake St. John. Now, to finish giving you an [Page 39] accurate idea of these localities, Lake St. John —  which is distant about 30 leagues from Chekoutimi in a westerly direction, and situated in the depths of the high mountains that you see to the north of Quebec — is no more than 30 leagues in circumference. It is not deep, and in summer its waters, which are very low, lay bare a beautiful beach of fine sand. It is well stocked with fish; its environs are beautiful; the scenery agreeable; the soil good. But most kinds of grain, especially Indian corn, cannot ripen, owing to the prevalence of the northwest wind — which blows very strongly early in the season, and sometimes brings snow at the end of august. A portion of the old establishment of the missionaries is still in existence; one can see that there had been a large garden, and a chapel, in which our brother Malherbe was buried. I had a cross erected over his grave.[3]

At the upper end of the Lake is a river, which is very curious on account of the variously-shaped small stones that it rolls down its bed. Nature would seem to have applied itself there to giving models for all the arts: birds, animals, vases, tools for all trades are easily recognizable; all these are visible in the water. The difficulty lies in collecting them. A journey would have to be made expressly for the purpose, and one would have to take time to select the pieces oneself, as the savages are not capable of doing so. Now, for that purpose, the curiosity- seeker would have only to pay and feed two canoemen to take him there. I have one of these rarities here. If you place it upright, this grayish and hard stone resembles a sort of monkey, or an earless cat, sitting on its tail and haunches, holding a little ball in [Page 41]  its mouth. If you lay it down at its length, it seems to me like a bird carrying something in its beak; on one side of the head is an oblong stain which looks a good deal like an eye. This figure is only an inch wide by one and a half in length. Moreover, this industrious river pays no tribute of its treasures to Lake St. John, into which it falls, — as do many others that flow from the watershed and are fed by Lake Kawitchiwit. This, from lake to lake, reaches as far as father Albanel’s lake, — so called because it was first discovered by that missionary, — about 80 leagues East-northeast from Hudson’s Bay, and quite near the great Lake of the Mistassins; the latter, on receiving the waters of Lake Albanel, discharges into the Northern sea.[4]

In that quarter dwell the Michtassini — or, in French, Mistassins. They derive this name — which comes from michta, “great,” and assini, “stone” —  from a great rock in their river. It is the same as that which yields the curiosities I have just mentioned. They have a veneration for that rock; it would be a sin for them to pass near it without leaving some token of their superstitious reverence for Tchigigoutchéou, the god of fine and of bad weather, —  who, according to their myths, has by preference chosen his residence there. As a rule, their incense consists of a little black tobacco, a piece of sea-biscuit, or some beaver or fish bones, which they place upon the rock. But other savages, less devout, and hungry for smoking, often while passing take the tobacco from the good or evil Spirit, who has not taken care to benefit by the devotion of his worshipers.

They also claim that near this spot, after the deluge (for, according to their account, they have [Page 43] about the same idea of it as we have), the great Canoe grounded on a high mountain which they point out. Some even assert, as an article of their faith, that they have often seen there an old man of enormous height, armed with bow and arrows, who stalks about in the neighborhood and seems to guard the venerable relics of that canoe, — some timbers of which, they claim, still remain undecayed. These idle fancies, among a thousand others which are unworthy of your attention, My Reverend Father, and upon which the profound erudition of Father Lafiteau — whose departure we would regret still more here, had not his too well-known merits caused him to be recalled to France — would cast a marvelous light, are so common among these peoples that there is not a child who does not know the story of the great Canoe and of the tall savage, the venerable ancestor Mechou. Moreover this tribe, reduced to a small number of people, — a portion of whom come here in the spring, while the others go to the English for what they require, — are of a gentleness and simplicity beyond any idea of goodness that can be conceived. It would not be difficult to make good Christians of them, if they could only see living in closer and longer intimacy with them a missionary who was less hampered, — in a word, one who would be given greater facility and freedom to teach them and their countrymen. Very different from the others, these savages do not, as a rule, like brandy; and if the frenchman — more eager for their goods than for their salvation, — in spite of the repeated prohibitions of our kings, overcomes their natural repugnance for that intoxicating liquor, they drink it only with ridiculous grimaces, and never return [Page 45] to the charge of their own accord. Their reason is, — to use their own language, — that the mind is shamefully lost when once it has been killed by fire- water. To this blessed sobriety they add admirable docility, whatever trouble it may cost them. Some years ago, the missionary sent to their chief, an exceedingly old man who was not yet baptized, a little devotional present, to invite him to come to be instructed. Notwithstanding his great age, the length of the journey, and the fatigue caused by the canoe and by the portages, he consented; he came and presented himself at the Church. “Here, my father,” he said, “is the old man thou didst wish to see.” He caused himself to be instructed every day, in order to prepare himself for baptism; he wished also to confess, — in order, as he said, to cast off all his sins more openly. And, at the end of his life, he received with edification the grace that he had come to seek from a distance of over 250 leagues — or, to speak more truly, which had itself gone so far to seek him.

The mistassins live on fish, with which their lakes are well stocked. There are but few beaver among them, but herds of caribou compensate for that. Nearly all their superstitions are reduced to not allowing their dogs to eat certain bones which they respect, — for fear of profanation, and lest they might be unable to kill any other animal afterward. They are careful to throw these bones into the fire or into the river, This religious act is assuredly due to no other reason than the fear that they formerly had, like our french hunters, that their dogs might break their teeth. Sensible people among them admit it. Among themselves, they seldom drink or eat until they have offered to their dead a small quantity of [Page 47]  their food or beverage, which they throw into the fire. This is the benedicite that they teach their children.

The most remarkable of all the curiosities to be seen in these woods, in the direction of Nemiskou, is a cave of white marble, which looks as if a workman had carved and polished it. The aperture is easy of access, and lights up the interior. The vault corresponds, by its brilliancy, to its supports. In one corner is a slab of the same substance, but somewhat rough, which projects, forming a kind of table as if to serve as an altar. Consequently the savages think that it is a house of prayer and council, wherein the Spirits assemble. Therefore all do not take the liberty of entering it; but the jugglers who are, as it were, their Priests, go there in passing to consult their oracles.

Not that I would venture to say that there are clever sorcerers among the Mistassins, or among the other Montagnais; for, at best, they are but clumsy charlatans. At least, as far as I have been able to study them, it is by their imaginary spells that they greatly desire to make themselves respected and dreaded. Even with the aid of their 30 different kinds of jugglery, all these sorcerers seldom succeed in making good their pretensions. Unfortunately, it is sufficient that they should tell the truth once, by accident, to be always believed in future — often, without believing themselves. For I have seen some who passed among them for masters, who candidly admitted to me that their art was but a falsehood; and that it was not true that they had ever seen either the devil or Atchéze, — that is to say, any of those headless and handless phantoms, etc.[5] They said that it was solely with the object of [Page 49] deluding the most credulous that their ancestors had formerly related these fables, in order to give themselves importance and to be looked upon as privileged men, inspired by heaven and superior to the vulgar. Others have assured me that they had seen extraordinary fires and supernatural monsters; but that, since they had embraced Christianity, they no longer saw anything, although they frequently traveled at night. When one who was more obstinate affirmed that he had seen the evil spirit; he was at once asked how that spirit was made, whether he was black or white. He became quite confused, began to laugh, and was unable to answer. Through the admirable providence of God, whose will it is that the others be undeceived, these wretched sorcerers, true or. pretended, whose gross and impure practices are ever deserving of condemnation, nearly always after persisting in their scandalous obstinacy, die a miserable death, in the midst of their criminal actions, or as a punishment for their foolish medicines. Thus I have seen four terrible examples, of which I have had occasion to write to Your Reverence, in connection with that famous juggler of the Lake who, while still quite young, had died a pitiable death with his wife, who was still more superstitious than he. From this example among others will God derive his glory.

But after having given you, My Reverend Father, a summary and perhaps even tedious description of this country interspersed with Mountains, Rocks, lakes, rivers, drunkards, and jugglers, I return to the condition in which, on my first arrival, I found this long-abandoned mission; for although Father André, in his old age, had, after Father de Crespieuil’s death, made some short expeditions to it, [Page 51] nevertheless hardly a savage had retained any other idea of our Holy Religion than a great desire to learn the principles thereof. The young people had never heard of it. The older ones merely mumbled some undistinguishable fragments of the pater and of the Ave of their forefathers, Licentiousness, which prevailed to the utmost degree among them, polygamy, and, still more, drunkenness, — in a word, all the evils born of the grossest profligacy, — were the sole idols worshiped by these poor blind people. They alleged, as a justification for their misconduct, the melancholy scandals formerly set before them by the French, who sojourned temporarily or who remained among them as employees. Thus I arrived here after leaving our dear and peaceful college. The savages manifested their joy by several discharges from their guns. At first, these, rejoicings seemed to me an augury of good. But, after I had taken possession of an old dilapidated chapel, the first spectacle my eyes witnessed was that of some savages who were excessively intoxicated, and of others who were tipsy, and who with a maudlin air came to embrace me, and to ask me to confess them. Who could have restrained himself at such approaches?

The montagnais who is mild, affable, and peaceful is easily led to do what is desired, provided he be looked after. Being credulous and not addicted to retorting, he wishes all that we wish; being timid, he obeys; being poor, through ignorance of the value of his furs elsewhere, he hopes to be assisted; and this I began to make them fairly understand, in Algonkin, to win them, or rather to attract them, to Jesus Christ. When not under the influence of liquor, they seemed to enter into my thoughts. It [Page 53] is surprising that among so many different tribes- people from Chekoutimi, Piékwagami, Nekoubau, and Chomouchwan; Mistassins, the people of Tadoussac, and the Papinacheois — there was but a single drunkard who ill-treated me. My sole regret during these first troubles was that I could not easily make myself understood in this strange land. The pure Algonkin tongue was of hardly any use to me here. Without a house, without assistance, without consolation, I pined away — solely through not being able to express the bitterness of my heart, otherwise than by the pallor of my countenance. Absorbed merely in looking at so fine a field, without being able to sow in it, I had recourse to Father DeCrespieuil; I went to the Church several times, and asked the venerable deceased to send me from Heaven his montagnais tongue, which was no longer of use to him. But the saints desire us to take the same trouble that they themselves have taken to become qualified to glorify God. The means that I selected, therefore, was to secure a good savage woman, who had formerly been a Christian, to instruct me. This Marie, of whom I have already had occasion to speak to Your Reverence elsewhere, after having successfully finished helping me to complete my montagnais books as she desired, ended her days last year by a precious death. She directed my studies in a masterly manner; and, at the very first word that she heard me pronounce, she said to the others: “That will do; our father has spoken our language; I will no longer speak french to him.” Notwithstanding my entreaties, she kept her word; and by dint of making her pupil divine her words, she enabled him to preach on the mystery of Christmas without having the paper before him. [Page 55]

Nearly all the savages had, with consoling edification, come here to assist at the divine mysteries, and to confess themselves at midnight mass. In the autumn, they generally scatter for their hunting to a great distance, — some one hundred or 200 leagues, the others more or less; and they reappear destitute of everything, exceedingly thin, and always with the invariable greeting: ni-paska-bagwanan, “We are dying of hunger.” To supply them with more spiritual food, the celebrant gave them a short sermon, about 3 quarters of an hour long, at the Gospel. The dispositions which seemed to animate them as they left the chapel led the french who were present to conceive that God, when he wills, derives his glory from the mutest tongues. On the following feast- days, we undertook to teach them the principles of faith and morality, on condition that an old man who was better instructed should check the new Catechist at every barbarism in the montagnais language.

Afterward, when the chiefs with their bands had dispersed in the woods, the missionary devoted the rest of the winter to composing an elementary catechism and some hymns in his new language. Being taken sick, he had himself conveyed early in the spring to Quebec, where he intended to spend some time. But hardly had he arrived there and breathed its air than, through I know not what secret inspiration, he felt impelled to return to his mission, contrary to the advice of all in the college — who urged him kindly, but in vain, to wait for the vessel which was shortly to convey supplies to the posts. During my absence the principal chief had come to Chekoutimi. On learning that — disgusted, and despairing of converting them, as I had made a good savage believe — I had turned my regards elsewhere, and [Page 57]  had abandoned them, he replied that he would himself go to get me; and that meanwhile word was to be sent me that he would know well how to suppress debauchery, and to use his authority to check, in future, those who should dare to deviate from duty. Some days after he had gone to join his young men, I reappeared. I was consoled on learning that a few words that I had said at my departure had happily been repeated to the alarmed savages, and had produced a salutary fear that could but have a good effect.

This nation is very volatile and does not like to be treated with too much consideration. From time to time it needs to be reminded of its dependence. Naturally timid, it nevertheless by forced discretion often forestalls the reproaches that it feels might be addressed to it. Moreover, as it would be a shame for them to be the only Savages without a missionary, they are restrained, at least to a slight extent, by our threatening to withdraw if they refuse to profit any more by the instructions that are given them.

A few days after his return from Quebec, the father observed with lively pleasure these poor people arriving — some laden with their packages of beaver, martin, and lynx-skins; the others with their canoes. The women carried their children, the bark for their cabins, the kitchen utensils, fire- wood, fir branches for their beds, etc. All the men, on laying down their burdens at the camping-place, formed in line, according to their custom, and fired 3 or 4 volleys from their guns as a salute to the chapel; the french, on their side, replied to it. I received them, before the Church, vested with a surplice; I recited for them a short prayer, after the montagnais veni creator, and then gave a brief [Page 59] exhortation. After that, they went to the french house for refreshments, and thence to make their cabins, or rather — to prepare Your Reverence for what is to follow — their death-beds.

All, with the exception of a young child attacked by scrofula, were in wonderful health. This led me to expect that I should see them assiduously attend the various exercises of the mission, which I was preparing for them; but I soon saw that the desire that I had had to hasten my return was nothing less than the result of humor for, hardly had the chief —  who, according to the custom of the nation, was the first to cut and set up the poles of his cabin — finished his work with the others, than he found himself ill. At first he merely laughed at it, and accused himself of being lazy. Seeing that he was sick, I urged him to allow a little blood to be taken from him, for I feared pleurisy. Their manner of bleeding is cruel. They select the largest blood vessel that lies on the hand; they pierce the flesh with an awl beneath the vein, which they afterward raise. They make the puncture — or, rather, the incision — with a knife that is often blunt; it seldom happens that much blood flows and mutilations are always caused, which have crippled many. The chief allowed me to bleed him, but in the french fashion, on the following day only, and not until he had assisted at mass. Being already advanced in years, he had formerly seen the Montagnais missionaries; and had, I can assert, retained, with a horror for superstitions of all kinds, a certain ground-work of religion which had always led him to continue the practice of praying night and morning with his family, as well as he knew how. The sickness increased, but did not prostrate him. He even then had the courage to hotly pursue and [Page 61]  silence two importunate savages who wished to force the Clerk to give them liquor; but his just anger heightened his fever. He asked me to confess him. In order not to act imprudently at the beginning, in consequence of my slight knowledge of the language, I had already tested each savage by a double general confession, waiting for the 3rd which was to finish unmasking them to me. This one, who was more sincere and less dull than the others, made his confession, and delighted me; and, being sufficiently instructed, he wished to be carried to the chapel, to make his first communion there. It is not the custom of the savages to kneel; they squat upon their heels. This one while at the altar-rails, exhausted as he was, remained in an admirable Christian posture, until I turned around and made him a sign to sit down, for I feared that he would be overcome by weakness.

During his illness, which lasted only 8 days it is impossible to describe how he edified us by his patience. He had the missionary called almost every moment. This was in the hottest season when those stinging flies that are called mosquitoes, Midges, and gnats are at their worst. When he was told that he should have remained in his cabin, instead of exposing himself outside to those unbearable insects, he gently replied that he had neither strength nor courage to perform any other penance. Tane tché tchichikamaswïanc egou, “How then can I pay for myself?” I can never forget these words. The time was drawing near, and on returning from the cemetery where I had just buried the little scrofulous child whom I have already mentioned, I was summoned on behalf of the sick man, who ceased not to confess, I saw that he could not last long, and I administered the holy oils. “Ah, my father, [Page 63] he said to the missionary, “how happy I am to die thus! Say some masses for me after I am dead, and that is all I need, for I owe nothing to any one.” Then during the recommendation of the soul, looking confidently at the crucifix, and pronouncing aloud the holy names of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he died, as I consider, the death of the predestined. Fully realizing that the nascent faith would lose by the death of Maratchikatik, which means Méchant front [“evil countenance”]; thus was the chief miscalled, — I did nothing but water the ritual with my tears during the obsequies. Indeed, in the bitterness of our hearts we absolutely could sing neither in latin nor in the savage tongue; for all the french themselves wept at the very sight of the mausoleum that had been erected for him. The altar was draped in black; many tapers were lighted; on a handsome pall the sword and gun of the deceased were laid crosswise, — the coat that he had worn as chief, crowning the whole. These rites produced an impression on the minds of those who believed that the man was utterly dead.

I imagined that God would be content with this victim, but 24 others were also needed. To spare you, My Reverend Father, the tediousness of protracted details, — which, however edifying they might be without figures, would be wearying to myself also, — I shall have the honor of telling you in a few words that for 3 weeks the missionary had barely a single day or night to look about him; he was nearly always vested with his surplice, having the crucifix and the holy oils in his hands, his breviary under his arm, — and, moreover, finding no difficulty in getting the usual acts recited in the montagnais language. The french, being without [Page 65]  relief, thought only of their own fright. Spending a portion of the day in the confessional, hardly ever omitting the catechism at noon, or the evening prayer for the consolation of the survivors, the father’s life was in truth animated by the timorous fervor of his neophytes. Every day had its funeral and saw many dying persons almost despaired of; so that, while tolling the knell of one in the morning, — for I had to act as beadle, as well as man of all trades, — I would be summoned to attend either some one about to expire, or another who desired to be helped to pray. The most frightful trouble was to see, among the sick, adults who had not yet been baptized. Among these, a certain man from Nekoubau — one of those hardened people, and of the race of the fugitive Cain — caused me most perplexity, An attack of pleurisy, complicated with indigestion, reduced him to the last extremity. I hastened to instruct him in the principal mysteries, when, concealing his indigestion from me, he urged me to bleed him. I did so, and thought that he would expire during the operation. A cold sweat pouring from his forehead seemed to me one of the last symptoms. Not knowing what to do, I went for a dose of theriac to revive him that I might afterward baptize him. The whole of his family went out of the cabin, and I saw that they were going to treat him by jugglery. When forbidden to do so, they obeyed; they reentered, and were themselves witnesses of the prompt effect of the medicine, which enabled the sick man to get up the very next day. Early the following morning, I entered his cabin while they were still asleep. The chief of the band rose, in a state of almost complete nudity, and called [Page 67]  out: “Here enters he who has done what we admire.” All squatted like monkeys on the fir- branches, without much shame; they took their pipes, filled one for the sick man who was cured, and thanked me. At the very first compliment, I seized the opportunity to make them understand that the master of life and death was the sole and great God, the creator, who is adored by all nations except by them; that the cure was to be attributed neither to the physician nor to his remedies, but to him who has made all, and who, by thus manifesting his power, showed them that prayer did not kill men, as they pretended. These arguments did not strike them with sufficient force; all, even to the sick man, made only barren promises, the effect whereof has yet to be seen.

Here, on the other hand, is something much more consoling. There was an entire family of truly pre-destined mistassins, whose lovable candor attracted the missionary’s attention still more, It was necessary to go to seek them a league from the village; 5 or 6 little savages, singing hymns, guided me to the spot. There I saw a young child about eleven years old, who was dying. I taught him our mysteries without any trouble, promising myself to instruct him thoroughly if he recovered. He replied concisely to my questions, adding that he did not understand, but that he believed what I myself believed. I was delighted, and did not hesitate to baptize him privately. A matron whom I had baptized at Christmas, with her two children, and who made such use of the grace she had received that she sacrificed herself, and generously died in the service of the sick in question, hastened after us, and undertook to bring me the child on the following day, alive or [Page 69] dead; for it was then dark, rain was falling, and the roads were very difficult. In fact, on the following day I saw from afar the child, carried on the shoulders of that charitable Christian woman. I ran to meet them; she laid down her burden, And, as if God had prolonged his last moments merely that he might thank me, the young child looked at me, smiled, lifted his eyes to heaven (I speak without metaphor), and expired. Thus he would never have had time to be baptized, even without the rites, had I not, in spite of the reasons alleged to hinder me, gone to him on the day before — which was the very day of the feast of my patron, St. Peter [crossed out in MS.]. What an agreeable gift for my name-day, My Reverend Father, to add nothing more!

The eldest son of the family, 19 or 20 years of age, also filled us with the purest delight. I had previously seen him, and had instructed him all the more willingly because he appeared to be more anxious for it. Until then, however, his baptism had been deferred. He also falls ill, and I prepare him in earnest. Seeing that he cannot recover, I baptize him, and name him Pierre Régis. I bring him the Holy viaticum immediately afterward; and, while I am making him say his act of thanksgiving, he gives up his purified soul to God. He had seen his uncle, his aunt, his sister, and his brother die Christians; and there remained only his mother, an old widow, who was not yet baptized. The evidences of zeal that he displayed for her edified us exceedingly, because, forgetting himself, he had nothing else to recommend to me except to have Pity on his mother, and to baptize her soon, for fear of accident. He repeated his entreaties at least 20 times, [Page 71]  and he was right; for, 3 days after her baptism, she departed this life, probably to join her children, who were here called “the Holy family.” The affliction ended there, and the other sick people recovered.

Some caused themselves to be sweated (without their usual superstitions), They heat stones red-hot in the fire, and place them in a small, well-closed bark hut. Then the person who is to be sweated, shuts himself up in it entirely naked, and sits down, on fir-branches; and from time to time, in order to increase the heat, he throws cold water on the stones, and also drinks some. This causes him to break out into a profuse perspiration; but; as he breathes no fresh air, I would think that he drinks his own sweat over and over again, and does himself more harm than good. Indeed, there is no doubt that this method of sweating themselves with stones has a very withering effect upon them, and parches their lungs. They have been taught another way of using that remedy, which, by ejecting the noxious humors, allows them to escape outside and [crossed out in M.S.] can but do much good. It consists in boiling in a large kettle spruce-twigs with aromatic herbs, among which are placed some of those oily shrubs that are here called the “pepper-plant,” because their fruit, from which green wax is obtained, has in fact, if not the consistency and hardness, at least the appearance of pepper. A tub is prepared, across which a board is laid to serve as a seat; then, on the outside, to the hoops of the tub are nailed 4 or 5 small sticks, and their pliant tops are tied to a medium-sized hoop. This hoop is placed as high as the neck of him who is to sit in the tub, so that his head is outside, and the remainder [Page 73] of the body is well covered by means of the sticks that hold up the blankets and prevent their resting on the shoulders. When everything is thus prepared, the boiling kettle is put in the tub under the seat. A piece of board is put upon the kettle, to support the captive’s [patient’s] feet and prevent their being burned. The patient, wrapped up only in a sheet, slips gently into the sweating-bath, with a small stick which he uses to stir up the medicine as the heat abates. He remains thus until he feels the perspiration diminish; then quickly putting on a warm shirt, he goes to sweat once more in good robes of beaver-skin, or in a good and well-warmed bed, when he has one. This method of producing perspiration is a sovereign remedy for languor, rheumatism, inflammation, pains in the side, and minor aches; in a word, it is worth many baths. I should consider these the legal purifications of our savages. At all events, several of them who were dying made use of it to advantage; and the french of the posts hardly ever have recourse to any other remedy.

Now, it is to be observed that the barque on which it was intended that I should return to Quebec arrived at Chekoutimi only after the funerals. Shall I tell you of it, My Reverend Father? Either I no longer understood myself, through despondency or grief, or God had permitted his minister to make himself understood in the montagnais language only for that time; but the truth is that, immediately after the mortality, and in the interval of rest, I was as if unable to speak four consecutive words of that language correctly; and I seemed even to have forgotten the little that I previously knew. Yet this remark escapes me solely as a reminder that a [Page 75]  Gospel laborer must, if I may venture so to express myself, tempt God for God’s sake, — daring much, undertaking everything, being not too distrustful of his own strength, and dreading nothing so much as pusillanimity in the Lord’s work.

To conclude this funereal narration, the savages attributed this species of contagion to the goods; and, although we tried to undeceive them, there is nevertheless some probability that they were slightly contaminated by the plague of Marseilles[6] For, merely on opening the bales, the clerk and some of his servants were quickly attacked by fever; and there were hardly any savages ill, except those who came to buy the clothes. Moreover, some were so furious that they had to be tied. A woman in her delirium struck me a blow that made me “see a hundred candles,” as the saying is. Then, according to the custom of the savages, they were tied on their beds, with their feet and hands bound to 4 stakes driven into the ground. As I had only a few emetics, and could not attend to all, I gave a portion of them to some persons who are still living. The fear of death, alone, evidently killed one, in especial. He was a robust and strong man, about 50 years of age. The fever attacked him only an hour before his death. Only one man and one woman fled from their true happiness, by withdrawing, in spite of my entreaties, into the woods, where they died without any assistance. The other Idolaters, through a ridiculous superstition, fired their guns backward while retiring, as if to intimidate or arrest death, and prevent it from pursuing them. Such is certainly their idea.

Being no longer busy with these people, it was [Page 77]  necessary to go to visit, in their turn, the people of Tadoussac, who had long awaited their father, and who were rejoiced to see him again. This mission — which formerly consisted of nearly three thousand men, and was directed by 3 Jesuits, but which has been reduced by various fatal diseases to 25 families at most — has nothing savage about it, situated as it is on the seashore, and with an agreeable prospect. It stands on a fine plateau (slope] clothed with turf, and covered with flowers and small wild fruits; it is in full sight of those who pass by, and of the ships. The inhabitants, dressed in the french fashion, but rather grotesquely, and without taste, — are slightly less uncouth and more refined than the other Savages from the interior. Old ruined stone buildings, whereof the foundations, cellar, bake-house, and a gable still exist, show that a very neat Church and a very comfortable house once existed there. This chapel was dedicated under the name of Ste. Croix, on account of the reverence that all the Savages of the seacoast had for that venerable symbol of our salvation[7] — as was related to me, but a few months ago, by an aged woman nearly a hundred years old, Instructed by fathers Briet [Bruyas? A. E. J.] and Albanel. The grant of land conceded to the Jesuits by the Queen mother in the year [blank in MS.][8] is still to be seen on parchment in the archives of the Quebec College.

It would be desirable [crossed out in MS.] I do not even despair that my successor will induce the company of the Domain to raise again this building, —  which was about 60 feet long, — as the stone and an old lime-kiln are still on the spot. It would be to the glory of the King, and in the interest of [Page 79]  Messieurs the farmers to do this. Can his Majesty’s principal post dispense with a chapel and a house, which together would not cost 1,500 livres? And would they not attract thither an infinite number of montagnais savages from the North and from the South? — who, while filling the granaries of the father of the family, would doubtless swell the profits of the farming, which is on the verge of ruin; and call down, more and more, heaven’s blessings upon our august and pacific monarch.

After the fathers’ house, which was also used by the clerks, was destroyed by fire during their absence, the french traders built a house for themselves: it is on another site, on the same plateau, but to the Northeast of a deep and very cool brook which divides the jesuits’ land from that of the farm. Here — sometimes on the green turf, in fine weather; sometimes in the cabins — the missionary, surprised at the memory and docility of his young plants, catechized them, gradually taught them the general prayers, made them sing, and by little presents encouraged them to surpass one another. The older ones also ranged themselves on their own side. Those who seemed inattentive might expect to be first questioned and to be charitably lifted up in the event of a fall.

The misfortune then, as now, was that in this pretended capital of the Saguené there was no other chapel than a bark cabin, open on all sides; in such a place it would be impossible, for lack of ornaments, to inspire these nascent Christians — who see nothing except through the eyes of the body — with either an idea of our mysteries, or veneration for the hidden sanctity which they represent. “What [Page 81]  superfluous fittings !” some would exclaim, from time to time. “What useless furniture, what silks, what stuffs condemned to darkness, and a prey to the moths, in antique chests that, if opened to the adorable body of Jesus Christ, — who, after all, must be the eternal reward of our generosity toward his members, — would soften, by sanctified altar linen, the straw in the manger and the cruel cross of the Savior who awaits us!” Ah! why am I not in a position to erect again that cross at Tadoussac on its former ruins, to give it fresh brilliancy, and make it shine in a new sanctuary? By these externals it would soon deeply impress itself in hearts which, although we call them savage, are nevertheless not far from God’s Kingdom.

In truth I found those good people so well disposed to Christianity that I could not help passing the winter with them. We wintered 8 leagues below Tadoussac, near the Eskoumin; The place was named Notre Dame de bon desir. There, until spring, religious exercises were performed during 5 months. This small and edifying church consisted of 120 adults who had been gathered together. Mass was said before daylight in an old ruined french house; and the savages attended it regularly. From there they went to the hunting grounds — that is, to hunt Seals on the river St. Lawrence, which continues from that point widening as it descends to the gulf, and is there over 15 leagues in width.

You are aware, My Reverend Father, that this trade supplies the oil used for light in this country, and for dressing hides in Europe. Allow me, while giving still further explanation, to enter into some minor details which can but afford you diversion [Page 83]  amid your too numerous and tedious occupations. Hitherto, as far as I am aware, this fish has been spoken of only incidentally. Some seem to confound it with the dogfish or Shark, which is very different. It is true that the head of the dogfish somewhat resembles that of the seal: a flat and black nose; large, round, and projecting eyes; thick and grayish lips; an oblong muzzle, a mouth open to the ears, which are almost imperceptible; and whiskers like those of a cat. But, in addition to the fact that the dogfish is fiercer and greatly to be dreaded, it has a rough skin which, when dried, can be used only for polishing carvings, articles turned in a lathe, and joiner-work.[9] The flesh of this animal consists solely of a sort of tendon, or cartilage, similar to the flesh of the breast, which has obtained for it the montagnais name Toutouchoumégou,” the fish that is nothing but breast.” While writing this, it occurs to me that glue might be made from it, as from sturgeon. I have never seen the Savages eat it. On the other hand, the seal-less stunted, and with a longer neck; timid, always on the watch, and diving at the least alarm — does not attack sailors, avoids them as much as possible, and is content with smelt and other small fish — and even with certain worms that are found in the seaweed clinging to the rocks, as we have often had occasion to observe. Its skin, which when dressed is like morocco, but has not so fine a grain, and which is used for making Savage shoes and clothes, or for covering boxes, is coated with hair, very thick and spotted. That with which they are born, and which they retain while suckling, is of a silvery white, without any spots. As the little seal grows, it assumes the mother’s color; it changes, [Page 85] becoming browner, grayer, and blacker; and with a thousand different variegations of velvety shades, it presents a grayish background covered with an admirable variety of figures. There are seals of various kinds, all with the same features. I think you have already had an ample description of them with the [a little] picture that I once sent to Monsieur Bégon, — that generous and constant friend of Our Society, as you know, — who, during the twelve years while he was Intendant in Canada, a worthy heir to his late father’s virtues, and in concert with his charitable Spouse, did as much honor to the king by his rare disinterestedness, by his munificence, by his alms, as he did good to the missionaries; and they will ever glory in giving him a good share in the reward of their apostolic labors, in remembrance of his kindness, his zeal, and his piety.

The female seals carry their young 10 months, The names of the moons of September and june, among the people of the coast, prove this; for all our savage astrologers, who count entirely by moons, have derived the various names of the months solely from the various actions of the land or aquatic animals to which they are accustomed. These mothers, like ewes, possess admirable instinct for finding and distinguishing their young, when these are carried far out on ice-floes by the winds or by the tide. They seldom have more than one at a birth, but it is certain that they never have more than two. The Seal’s meat [flesh] is exceedingly black, coarse, and heavy. It is probably the animal best supplied with blood; but the latter is black, thick, and so warm that it smokes even in extremely cold weather; and it can be smelled 15 or 16 hours after the death [Page 87] of the animal when it is cut open. The savage women and children rush down to the beach, as soon as a laden canoe touches it, and peacefully divide the loins, ribs, feet, flippers, and head. The heart is the least objectionable part. The whole is boiled in a kettle, or is broiled on small wooden spits planted in front of the fire; and is afterward eaten without salt or other condiment. In the first place, the skin of the victim is removed, and all the blubber is taken off in one piece. The fat, from which the oil is procured, is from 3 to 4 inches thick — sometimes more, sometimes less. This blubber, being all collected in certain places, is thrown into a tub, that is, into a kind of press, — where it gradually liquefies and furnishes the most fatty oils, which seem the best for tanning. It is natural that, when liquefied and decomposed in the sun, they should smell bad. Such is not the case with those rendered in large kettles placed on the fire. These are not so thick, are clearer, and used in lamps and for frying, do not smell so bad, and are not so good for tanning; and the Tanners in france are said to prefer the coarser oils, obtained from the marsouin [white porpoise, or white whale]. The former oils, when placed in phials, greatly resemble in color a fine whitish liquor. They are the ones least boiled, and are least suitable for lamps; but are the best for burns, whose stinging pains they soothe. Others are darker and ruddier; these have been longer on the fire, and the persons who rendered them cooked therein cakes or crullers[10] — which, it seems to me, collect all the scum. In a word, and without any mystery, these oils are rendered like hog’s lard, — except that, as the oil ferments in the cask, it needs good barreling; for [Page 89] otherwise it exudes, evaporates, leaks, and forces its way out, more than any other liquid.

What figure of speech shall I make use of, My Reverend Father, to prove that this oil is excellent for frying ? I know not. One would have to become a poet to make it believed. What I do know is that I have seen frenchmen who were rather squeamish, —  to say nothing of the Savages, who always have a good appetite, — fry their fish in pure seal oil. They take the precaution, however, first to boil the oil in the frying-pan and to throw into it, from time to time, — from afar, and outside of the house, for fear of fire, — about a pint of cold water. This certainly purifies the oil, and so completely removes its natural odor that the fried fish no more smells of it than if cooked in ordinary oil.

Pardon my making this unctuous remark, — which, in any case, can only facilitate the sale of the oils of the Domain; and, since we are indebted to all, enrich some poor traders.

To season their sagamité (a word, by the way, which is not understood, and never had the signification given to it through a misconception of its sense: for it means nothing but “the water” — or “the broth — is hot,” tchi sagamiteou), the savages carefully keep this oil, when it has settled, in wikwés — this is the name of the Seal’s bladder. These bladders are rather pleasing in shape. When blown out they have a very long neck, the middle of which is considerably enlarged, oval, and terminating in a curved end, bent back somewhat like a thermometer or an alembic. Some hold from 5 to 6 pots, others from 10 to 12, without exaggeration; for I have never seen those monstrous seals that never leave the gulf of [Page 91] St. Lawrence. The blubber of one of these yields a barrelful of oil; but here, as a rule, 3 or 4, and sometimes 6 or 7, are required to fill one.

You no doubt imagine the horrible appearance of those who render these oils [fats] amid the grease and the dense clouds of suffocating smoke. In nearly every instance the women prepare, with as much skill as patience, and cut into small pieces, the blubber, which their husbands afterward try out in the kettles placed on furnaces; for the montagnais alone — very different from the other nations, who look upon their women as slaves — imitate in their households the french and more rational custom of mutually helping one another. To such an extent is this done that the man always reserves the more arduous task for himself, and leaves the less fatiguing to his wife and children, and even, in times of scarcity, deprives himself of what he needs — with this distinction, however, that he is always helped, and eats first. In truth, although the Montagnais women, as compared with the women of other Savage nations, may be looked upon as queens and sovereigns, they have true deference for their husbands; and consequently the latter seldom gainsay them. The choice of plans, of undertakings, of journeys, of winterings, lies in nearly every instance in the hands of the housewife.

I know not whether we should most admire the fatigues endured by these worthy people, the danger they run on the river, or their invincible courage. Cold, storms, snow, ice — nothing prevented them from exposing themselves so far out that, in most instances, they lost sight of land; they were fortunate if they escaped when any of those snow-storms arose [Page 93] that here we call poudrerie [“blizzards”]. During the 4 years while I wintered among them, many who had ventured too far were caught in the ice; being blinded by snow, and unable to extricate themselves, they were compelled to haul up their canoes on an ice-floe, and let themselves drift with the current. I saw a young Christian woman — as intrepid as she was fervent, and whose early death seemed to have been precious in the sight of God — return on foot from afar out on the river, making her way to the shore from ice-floe to ice-floe with her husband, dragging their canoe with them. But, among others, I cannot forget a young savage who embarked, early in the morning, to go hunting with his mother, an aged woman; and who, at nightfall