CHAPTER VIII.
TEKAKWITHA'S CHRISTIAN GUESTS.—RAWENNIIO.
THE year 1667 found Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas, and Senecas at peace with the Canadian settlers. This blessed peace crowned with success the persevering efforts of Garacontié, and brought the long-deferred answer to the prayer of Tekakwitha's mother. Onnontio was appeased; Frenchmen and Iroquois could now clasp hands, and the lovers of peace on either side—an ever increasing party—came boldly forward, asserting their claim to be heard, and holding all turbulent spirits in check. There was nothing to be lost, and much to be gained on both sides by peace. The French could now increase their trade, and the Iroquois were glad once more to turn their arms against aggressive Indian neighbors. The Mohegans, or Loups, on the Hudson, uniting with those of New England, were growing haughty and insolent to the Mohawk people, making raids on their hunting-grounds, and taking advantage of their temporary distress to settle old scores; this trouble, however, was still a side issue. It caused just uneasiness enough to make the Mohawks anxious for the speedy return of their deputies from Quebec, with full assurance of a permanent peace with the French. All through the spring of 1667, Tekakwitha's people were clearing new corn-fields on the north side of the Mohawk, and choosing new sites for their castles. Tionnontogen, the capital, claiming their first share of attention, was hastily rebuilt higher up the river and still on the south side, being now a quarter of a league from its old site. The populations of Gandawague and Andagoron were divided; some remained at the old half-ruined castles, and others moved across the river as rapidly as they could build cabins for themselves. This they began to do "after the bark would peel;"[36] that is, as soon as the season was far enough advanced for them to make use of that all-important material, in the use of which they were so expert. The task of building a palisaded Indian castle was slow and tedious,—the work of many long months, with their primitive methods. While they were in this transition state, the Mohawk deputies, having agreed on the terms of peace, returned from Quebec. They left that city in July, 1667, accompanied by three Jesuit Fathers.
The story of the Jesuit Father and his work crowds the pages of our early history. Wherever the red man plays an important part, there close at hand is the blackgown with his crucifix and his works on the Indian language,—becoming a linguist that he may make known to the Indian, whatever his tribe, the "good tidings of great joy;" using the artist's brush that he may in some way represent to his neophytes the Christ; even taxing his ingenuity in the invention of games by means of which to hold the attention of the savages and teach them the simplest laws of morality; striving always to lead them step by step to a better understanding of the duties of a Christian life. Such were the men now on their way to the Mohawk from Quebec.
Earnest, zealous, with a firm determination to overcome all the obstacles before them in their spiritual combat with the demons of paganism, came the three Fathers, Fremin, Bruyas, and Pierron, with the Mohawk deputies. They had been chosen by the French authorities from the ever ready ranks of Jesuit volunteers, who never lost an opportunity to gain the ear of the red man. Already they had acquired some knowledge of the language; Father Fremin, of the three, understood it best. Then, too, it was well known by all that the presence of French blackgowns in the Iroquois country, sent by the Governor of Canada, would be in itself a guarantee of peace. They were made the bearers of presents to insure them a welcome in the Mohawk lodges. On their journey to the castles they were delayed for a time by reports that the forest was alive with Mohegan war-parties; but when, in course of time, they did fall in with a band of warriors, it turned out to be a scouting-party of Mohawks, who, alarmed by the long absence of their deputies, began to suspect another French invasion. They were therefore well pleased to see the missionaries, and willingly led them from the vicinity of Lake George to the northern bank of the Mohawk. There they crossed the river in canoes, probably from the place now occupied by the De Graff house. Above them, on the crest of a hill, stood all that was left of Gandawague, the Turtle Castle, where Tekakwitha and her uncle the chief still dwelt. They had not yet moved to the new site "at the Rapids," near Fonda. The three French guests of the nation were conducted up the steep ascent to the town with great formality and many ceremonies of welcome, not with the strokes of iron rods and the bitter taunts with which some of these same old men and women when in their prime had received Father Jogues at their former castle of Ossernenon, a little more than twenty years before. But why were not Fathers Fremin, Bruyas, and Pierron at once conducted up the valley to be welcomed by the Bears, and thence on to the westward to be lodged in state by the Wolves at Tionnontogen, the capital, as had invariably been the custom of the Caniengas in receiving distinguished guests, or even important captives? The answer that history gives is simple enough. The Fathers "happened to arrive at a time when these people are accustomed to plunge into all kinds of debauchery, and found no one, therefore, in a fit state to receive them." A drunken riot of several days' duration was going on within the newly built palisades of Tionnontogen. The Mohawks had chosen to celebrate in that way their returning prosperity.
So the Fathers were detained three days in the lodge of Tekakwitha's uncle at the Turtle Castle. Chauchetière and Cholenec, and all who have written of Tekakwitha find in this seemingly simple incident only one of many mystic links that make up the chain of her Christian life,—a sure effect of a potent cause,—the all-conquering love of the Spirit of God reaching toward its spirit-child, though clothed in the humble form of an Indian girl. Unknown, and therefore as yet unloved by her, the Great Father and Source of our spirit natures saw "His own image and likeness" expanding pure and fair in the untaught soul of Tekakwitha. All-knowing, all-powerful, planning the course of events without effort, He chose the surest way and the aptest time to make Himself known, thus securing at once the answer of love that was destined to lift and shield from all blemish this wondrous opening "Lily." He sent His messengers into the Mohawk Valley when Tekakwitha alone of her nation was ready and fit to receive them. Hers, then, was the privilege of lodging and entertaining them.
At that time the Iroquois were thorough pagans, and practised a species of devil-worship. They believed in Tharonyawagon, the "Holder of the Heavens," a good genius of the Kanonsionni, who bestowed on them their hunting-grounds and fisheries,—a harmless deity, to whom they were grateful in a vague way for past favors; but they do not seem to have worshipped him with any formality. They reserved their sacrifices and solemn rites for Aireskoi, a demon of war, whom they greatly feared. Hiawatha, the "Wampum-Seeker,"[37] though sometimes confused with Tharonyawagon, was undoubtedly a real personage. He was one of the founders of the Iroquois League of Nations, which is called to this day the "Great Peace." He is said to have lived about fifty years, as nearly as can be reckoned, before the earliest white settlers came to America. His aspirations and his teachings prepared the Iroquois to some extent for the reception of Christian ideas, but the original teachings of Hiawatha seem to have been very soon distorted and strangely mingled with myths. The League of Nations which he labored to establish, with the grand idea of eventually uniting all men in a common bond of brotherhood and peace, became on the contrary, in the hands of the Iroquois chiefs who followed him, a great engine of war, crushing all tribes that refused to come under its laws. Just enough of its original spirit remained to cause the Iroquois thoroughly to incorporate and make one with themselves the captives of all those peoples whose separate existence they destroyed. Tharonyawagon, Aireskoi, and Hiawatha were all familiar words in the ears of the Mohawk girl. But Rawenniio, the true God[38] was still unknown to her.
Charlevoix, the learned author of the "History of New France," who wrote an account of Kateri Tekakwitha about the year 1732, after mentioning the fact that "as soon as she was able to work she undertook the entire charge of the household," continues thus:—
"The first knowledge she received of Christianity was given her by the Jesuit missionaries who were sent to the Iroquois nations by M. de Tracy. They passed on their way through the town where she lived, and lodged in her cabin. She was charged with their entertainment, of which she acquitted herself in a manner which surprised them. She had herself been struck at the sight of them, and felt in her heart strange sentiments.... The fervor and recollectedness of these Jesuit Fathers at their prayers inspired her with the desire to pray with them; this desire she expressed to them; indeed they quickly divined it from her actions, and instructed her in the great truths of Christianity as well as their short stay in the town permitted, and quitted her with a regret fully reciprocated on her part."
There are those, as we have said, who believe that the prayer of Tekakwitha's dying mother had guided the steps of these missionaries straight to the lodge of her child, and left them there three days to be waited on and cared for by the shy but capable little Mohawk housekeeper, the niece of the chief at Gandawague. His people, as we already know, were away on a debauch at Tionnontogen,—a revel too disgraceful for the admission of guests whom they wished to honor. The Mohawks must have been hard pushed indeed when they handed over the envoys of the Canadian Governor whom they were anxious just then to conciliate, to the care of a mere child, even though she were high in rank; but Tekakwitha's uncle knew she could be trusted to do her part well. How well she did it Cholenec tells us in the following words:—
"She was charged with the task of lodging the missionaries and attending to their wants. The modesty and sweetness with which she acquitted herself of this duty touched her new guests; while she on her part was struck with their affable manners, their regularity in prayer, and the other exercises into which they divided the day."
Had they remained longer in the village, she would probably have asked for baptism.
As it was, she stole silently out of the lodge in the dusk of evening to bring water for the simple Indian repast she was preparing for her guests, and all the while her thought was alive with God,—the God she had never known, the God of the pale-face and of the Mohawk as well (for this much they had told her in their broken utterance of her own language); he was the God, too, of their Mohegan enemies. Here, indeed, was a new idea to the Mohawk girl. She had heard her people mention the God of the French, no doubt, and had wondered if he were kind like Tharonyawagon or cruel like Aireskoi; but this God whom the blackgowns told her of, was not their Lord and "Master of Life" any more than hers. He was the God of all men, whether they worshipped him or not,—of pale-face and redskin, of Mohawk and Mohegan. He loved them all with a father's love,—alas! Tekakwitha knew what that meant, if only from observation and from the very lack of it in her own life. This Rawenniio, this true God, was everywhere; he could hear the whispered prayer of the blackgown there in the lodge, and he could speak to her inmost heart even if she were quite alone in the forest. How she was stirred at the thought! "Will he speak to me now?" she said. "Does he know I am thinking of him?" She stopped at the foot of a great tree, poising her jug on her shoulder, and listened with innocent simplicity. "God of the blackgown! God of my mother! Rawenniio!" was the cry of her heart,—"speak to me, here in the forest,—speak to me, if it is true what the blackgown says!" Lifting her hand and her eyes, she looked up through the branches of the giant tree, far beyond what her dim eyes saw, far as her simple thought could reach; and though Tekakwitha heard no audible voice in the forest answering to her new-found cry, there was a dim but rapturous hope in her heart, cheering with happy omen her budding faith and her growing love for something more than the world of Tharonyawagon could give her,—something more than fruitful corn-fields, sunshine on the running water of the Mohawks, a strong, true brave to love her, and the Happy Hunting-Grounds beyond. They could not be much fairer, after all, than were the hunting-grounds of her nation at Saratoga, where Father Jogues had cut a cross deep into the bark of a tree, and had almost perished with hunger because he would not eat the meat that was offered to Aireskoi. Tekakwitha was not long in choosing between Aireskoi and Rawenniio.
While her mind was dwelling on such thoughts as these, she must have sought out the ravine near the Turtle Village where Isaac Jogues had buried his friend Réné Goupil. This young martyr was killed, as we have said, for making the sign of the cross on an Indian child. She may have knelt to pray on the very spot where Jogues himself was tomahawked at the door of the Bear Chief's deserted lodge. There she could ask Rawenniio most fervently for strength of will to follow the gleam of light that beckoned to her. The Mohawks of Gandawague had not forgotten these places so near at hand, nor how it had all happened. The Fathers Fremin, Bruyas, and Pierron, during their stay in the lodge with Tekakwitha, thought often of Jogues, and must have mentioned his name in her presence, as they afterwards did in their journal;[39] then, to be sure, Tegonhatsihongo would know of the murdered blackgown, so Tekakwitha could not fail to learn his story. She probably knew it already, but she thought of it now as she never had done before. Surely that first of the blackgowns who came to their village had something important to tell them. Why else had he laid down his life by coming among them a second and even a third time after his cruel captivity? Why else had he exerted himself to learn their language? The voice of Ondessonk's blood cried out to her from the ground, and besought her to hear what these others said who came to her now with his name on their lips, and the name of a greater than he,—of the One who was nailed to a cross, whose image they carried. A host of questions rose to her lips when she saw them again, but she had neither time nor courage to utter them. Only three days, and the blackgowns were gone. Tekakwitha was left alone once more with her aunts and her uncle, who had received these guests not from love, but policy.
During their short visit an alarming incident had occurred. A band of Mohegans, dashing down upon the village, had scalped a wretched squaw at the very gates. "Fremin was one of the first to hasten to her, eager to save a soul where life was in so great peril; but she spurned his offers. Four times she turned away in scorn;" but the patient zeal of the missionary won her at last, and she died a Christian.
There was another squaw in the town who had asked for baptism, an Iroquois woman of rank. We are not told whether this was Tegonhatsihongo, or some other, though we know that she did in time become a Christian. To test this woman's sincerity, Father Fremin gave her the thankless, unpopular task of calling to prayer, with a little bell, the Huron and Algonquin captives at Gandawague, who were already Christians. She did not shrink from this ordeal, but still her baptism was deferred till the missionaries should finish their embassy and return again to the town. In the mean time she wearied of their prolonged delay, and followed them to Tionnontogen, gaining from them there the necessary instruction for receiving the sacrament. The young Tekakwitha, on the contrary, either through natural timidity or by the express command of her uncle (we know not which, most likely both), waited with sealed lips for eight long years. During all that time she gave no sign or token, that has ever been recorded, of a wish to become a Christian; and yet the missionaries thenceforth were at work continuously in one or another of the Mohawk villages. Let us, then, follow the hurrying course of events in which the life of Tekakwitha was involved during these eight years of dim but dawning light, not forgetting that the seed which the Fathers had scattered in passing lay hidden yet treasured deep in the innermost heart of the Mohawk maiden.
FOOTNOTES:
[36] See [Appendix, Note A], Letter of June 29, 1885.
[37] Or "Peace-Maker," as wampum was the emblem and token of peace. For an interesting account of Hiawatha, or Hayenwatha, as founder of the League, and for other rare and valuable information concerning the people of the Five Nations, see Hale's Iroquois Book of Rites.
[38] See M. Cuoq's Lexique de la Langue Iroquoise. This word "Rawenniio," also written "Hawennyiu," came into use when Christianity was first preached among the Iroquois. It is still used by them to designate the "Great Spirit," or "Father of all Men." The last part of the word, "niio" or "nyiu" (God), is said to be derived from the French word "Dieu."
[39] See "Early Chapters of Mohawk History," no. xv., by Dr. Hawley, of the Cayuga County Historical Society, printed in the "Auburn Advertiser," and also to be issued in book form. These "Early Chapters" consist chiefly of translations from the Jesuit "Relations," with valuable notes and comments.