So far as Tekakwitha was concerned, the winter which followed these events passed quietly away in preparation for her baptism. She performed her usual duties in the cabin, and her aunts did not molest her on the subject of religion. According to one account, they had become Christians themselves, though this is contradicted elsewhere. The young girl was present at the instructions given to catechumens, and learned all the prayers with great facility and a marvellous avidity, in the hope that the Father would hasten her baptism.
"The missionaries before the baptism of adults took care to inform themselves, secretly, of their manners and conduct. Father de Lamberville questioned all who knew Tegahkouita, and was greatly surprised to find that none, even among those who ill-treated her, could say anything to her discredit. This was the more flattering to her, since the savages are much addicted to slander, and naturally inclined to give a malicious turn to the most innocent actions."
The missionary found no one who did not give a high encomium to the young catechumen. He hesitated no longer to grant what she so ardently asked. Easter Sunday, 1676, was appointed for the day of her baptism. The Christians of Caughnawaga Castle were pleased to learn that at last the blackgown had resolved to baptize Tekakwitha. Nearly a year had passed since she first asked to be made a Christian. All knew her worth. When the glad news of Father de Lamberville's decision was made known to Tekakwitha, her countenance became radiant with joy. Her aunts gave their consent to the step their niece was about to take. We are not told what her uncle said or did at the time. Perhaps he was intent on other important affairs just then, or he would probably have put some obstacle in her way. He certainly dreaded, above all things, the possibility of seeing his niece enticed away to Canada in the footsteps of her adopted sister. Perhaps he felt quite sure of keeping Tekakwitha with him, as she showed no desire to join a band of Kryn's followers who set out from the Mohawk Valley shortly before the appointed Easter day arrived. Like those who had gone with the "great Mohawk" on a former occasion, these pilgrims were bound for the Praying Castle on the St. Lawrence River. In the band were many friends and neighbors of Tekakwitha, so that in part at least her heart must have gone with them to Canada. The Praying Castle of St. François Xavier was no longer at La Prairie, as when Kryn first visited it, but had been moved this very year a few miles up the river close to the great Lachine Rapid or Sault St. Louis, and was henceforth called Caughnawaga. The older village of the same name in the Mohawk Valley was astir with expectation when Easter Sunday arrived, in the year 1676.[51] The young catechumen whom the blackgown De Lamberville esteemed so highly, the one of whom no word had been said in disparagement, every act of whose life was as clear and fair as the day, was eagerly awaiting the hour of her baptism.
The Indian girls on that Easter morning, ready, as always, for a pageant or ceremonial of any kind, crowded about the door of the rustic chapel, inside and out. Some of them carried their little brothers or sisters tied to their backs on cradle-boards. Some were gorgeous with bright-colored blankets and beads. Proudly they tossed their heads, these Mohawk girls, sure at least of their share of admiration from the young braves, notwithstanding that the old chief's niece was for the moment attracting more attention in the town than usual. What did her wonderful reputation for virtue amount to, after all? Much hard work, some of them thought, and a scant allowance of fun or excitement. But for once all eyes were centred on the quiet maiden, as she issued from her uncle's lodge, and with two companions, also ready for baptism, neared the door of the chapel. It was easy to see that most of the people of Caughnawaga respected and honored her on account of her virtue. There was a time when the Iroquois had vaunted the chastity of their women, and on that account held their heads higher than any other race of Indians. On this glorious Easter day the Mohawks seemed to realize, at least in a general way, that the maiden Tekakwitha, whom they knew to be as strong in will as their own flint rock and as pure at heart as their crystal spring, had caught up the beautiful crown that was fast falling from them. They felt that she at least, while she lived, could be trusted to hold it securely above the mire into which they were sinking faster and faster.
On the day of Tekakwitha's baptism, the light which the blackgown brought with him to the Mohawk country beamed with unquenchable brightness from her quiet but joyful face, and glimmered in scattered reflections on the faces of the crowd through which she passed. There men and women, warriors, hunters, jugglers, boys and girls of every age,—in a word, all who were in the village had gathered into groups to watch what was taking place at the chapel of St. Peter. The blackgown took care to render the baptism of an adult, and especially of such a noteworthy one as the niece of the chief, as impressive as possible; it was conducted with all due solemnity.
Never before had the Christians of Caughnawaga been more generous with their gifts. They had offered their richest furs[52] to adorn the chapel in honor both of Easter day and of Tekakwitha's baptism. The walls were hung with beaver and elk skins. There were bear-skin rugs and buffalo hides, embroidered in many colors, both under foot and on every side. Belts of wampum festooned the rafters. Blossoming branches of shrubs and clusters of frail little wild-flowers that grew in the ravines near by, decorated the altar. The entrance door was embowered in green. The approach to the chapel was through an avenue of budding trees, which had been planted there by the missionaries, to give an air of seclusion and dignity to the sacred portal. In them the birds were building their nests, and kept up a continual fluttering, chirping, and trilling. The blackgown's well-trained choir of Indian boys and girls, already within the chapel, were watching for Tekakwitha to enter. When the three catechumens appeared at the door, Father de Lamberville, in surplice and violet stole, advanced to meet them. Sturdy Mohawk boys who had learned to serve at the altar, attended him. The ceremony began at the chapel door. Katherine was the Christian name to be given to Tekakwitha. Clear and distinct were the words of the priest, as he asked the following questions: "Katherine, what dost thou ask of the Church of God?" Then came the short sweet answer, "Faith." "What doth faith lead thee to?" "Life everlasting," was the response. The blackgown, still using the words of the time-honored ceremonial, continued: "If then thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and thy neighbor as thyself." This exhortation sank deep into the soul of Tekakwitha. Fervent and recollected in spirit, she strove to catch the meaning of each word and sign. Father de Lamberville went on with the sacred rite. Breathing on her thrice, as she stood with head bowed down, he exorcised the Evil One, saying: "Go out of her, thou unclean spirit! give place to the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete!" She raised her head at these words, and he signed her forehead and breast with the cross. Then he blessed the salt, the symbol of wisdom, and laid it on her tongue. Again he bade Satan begone. They now entered the little church. They stood close by the font. He touched her ear with spittle, saying the mystic word of Christ: Ephpheta, that is, "Be opened!" Then she renounced the devil with all his works and pomps, and was anointed with the oil of the catechumens. She made her profession of faith in the words of the Apostles' Creed. After that the priest changed his violet stole for a white one, and poured the water of baptism on her head, saying at the same time the brief, essential words of the sacrament: "Katherine, I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."
The people watched each of these ceremonies with rapt interest. When it was all over, Katherine Tekakwitha turned from the font with a white cloth on her head, which the priest placed there in token of innocence, bidding her carry it unsullied before the judgment-seat of God; and she bore in her hand a lighted taper, the symbol of faith. She seemed quite unconscious of earth, and bright with angelic joy. The Mohawks could almost believe they were looking at a blessed spirit rather than at one of themselves. The choir of Indian children, silently waiting their turn, now filled the chapel with joyous melody, and made it resound with the sweet words of an Iroquois hymn, prepared for them by their missionaries. The birds outside, stirred to blither singing by the sound of voices within, warbled their richest notes. The great forest that sheltered the bark-covered shrine was alive with music, strange and rapturous, like the strains heard by Saint Cecilia in her vision. De Lamberville, entranced, stood at the altar and listened, like one in a dream. Each breath he drew was a fervent prayer for his Indian flock. He was quite alone among them,—the only pale-face at Caughnawaga Castle,—but he felt no isolation. He had given his life to these people, and his heart vibrated in perfect accord with the Iroquois music. If he thought of his home in France and the glorious Easter anthems he had heard at St. Eustache and Notre Dame, it was not with vain regret, but only with the calm assurance that if his friends across the sea could hear these Indians singing in their forest chapel and could see the face of this Mohawk girl lit up with the joy of her baptism, they would not feel that he was throwing away his life and talents among barbarian tribes. The path of his duty lay clearly before him.
"Go teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." These words were ever ringing in the missionary's ears. It was in fulfilling this command that he had found the Lily of the Mohawks ripe for Christianity. He felt that he had gathered rich fruit with but little effort, and his next thought was how to keep it safe and bring it to its highest perfection for the Master of the Vineyard, whom he served.
From the time of her baptism Katherine Tekakwitha's life resembled in many respects the lives of the early Christians. Chauchetière thus speaks of her baptismal name:—