"Interested views inspired her sister with the design of marrying her. She supposed there was not a young man in the Mission du Sault who would not be ambitious of the honor of being united to so virtuous a female; and that thus having the whole village from which to make her choice, she would be able to select for her brother-in-law some able hunter who would bring abundance to the cabin. She expected indeed to meet with difficulties on the part of Catherine, for she was not ignorant of the persecutions this generous girl had already suffered, and the constancy with which she had sustained them, but she persuaded herself that the force of reason would finally vanquish her opposition. She selected, therefore, a particular day, and after having shown Catherine even more affection than ordinary, she addressed her with that eloquence which is so natural to these Indians when they are engaged in anything which concerns their interests.
'I must confess, my dear sister,' said she, with a manner full of sweetness and affability, 'you are under great obligations to the Lord for having brought you, as well as ourselves, from our unhappy country, and for having conducted you to the Mission du Sault, where everything is favorable to your piety. If you are rejoiced to be here, I have no less satisfaction at having you with me. You, every day, indeed, increase our pleasure by the wisdom of your conduct, which draws upon you general esteem and approbation. There only remains one thing for you to do to complete our happiness, which is to think seriously of establishing yourself by a good and judicious marriage. All the young girls among us take this course; you are of an age to act as they do, and you are bound to do so even more particularly than others, either to shun the occasions of sin, or to supply the necessities of life. It is true that it is a source of great pleasure to us, both to your brother-in-law and myself, to furnish these things for you, but you know that he is in the decline of life, and that we are charged with the care of a large family. If you were to be deprived of us, to whom could you have recourse? Think of these things, Catherine; provide for yourself a refuge from the evils which accompany poverty; and determine as soon as possible to prepare to avoid them, while you can do it so easily, and in a way so advantageous both to yourself and to our family.'
There was nothing which Catherine less expected than a proposition of this kind; but the kindness and respect she felt for her sister induced her to conceal her pain, and she contented herself with merely answering that she thanked her for this advice, but the step was of great consequence, and she would think of it seriously. It was thus that she warded off the first attack. She immediately came to seek me, to complain bitterly of these importunate solicitations of her sister. As I did not appear to accede entirely to her reasoning, and for the purpose of proving her, dwelt on those considerations which ought to incline her to marriage, 'Ah, my Father,' said she, 'I am not any longer my own. I have given myself entirely to Jesus Christ, and it is not possible for me to change masters. The poverty with which I am threatened gives me no uneasiness. So little is requisite to supply the necessities of this wretched life, that my labor can furnish this, and I can always find something to cover me.' I sent her away, saying that she should think well on the subject, for it was one which merited the most serious attention.
Scarcely had she returned to the cabin, when her sister, impatient to bring her over to her views, pressed her anew to end her wavering by forming an advantageous settlement. But finding from the reply of Catherine, that it was useless to attempt to change her mind, she determined to enlist Anastasia in her interests, since they both regarded her as their mother. In this she was successful. Anastasia was readily induced to believe that Catherine had too hastily formed her resolution, and therefore employed all that influence which age and virtue gave her over the mind of the young girl, to persuade her that marriage was the only part she ought to take.
This measure, however, had no greater success than the other; and Anastasia, who had always until that time found so much docility in Catherine, was extremely surprised at the little deference she paid to her counsels. She even bitterly reproached her, and threatened to bring her complaints to me. Catherine anticipated her in this, and after having related the pains they forced her to suffer to induce her to adopt a course so little to her taste,[64] she prayed me to aid her in consummating the sacrifice she wished to make of herself to Jesus Christ, and to provide her a refuge from the opposition she had to undergo from Anastasia and her sister. I praised her design, but at the same time advised her to take yet three days to deliberate on an affair of such importance, and during that time to offer up extraordinary prayers that she might be better taught the will of God; after which, if she still persisted in her resolution, I promised her to put an end to the importunities of her relatives. She at first acquiesced in what I proposed, but in less than a quarter of an hour, came back to seek me. 'It is settled,' said she, as she came near me; 'it is not a question for deliberation; my part has long since been taken. No, my father, I can have no other spouse but Jesus Christ.' I thought that it would be wrong for me any longer to oppose a resolution which seemed to me inspired by the Holy Spirit, and therefore exhorted her to perseverance, assuring her that I would undertake her defence against those who wished henceforth to disturb her on that subject. This answer restored her former tranquillity of mind, and re-established in her soul that inward peace which she preserved even to the end of her life.
Scarcely had she gone, when Anastasia came to complain, in her turn, that Catherine would not listen to any advice, but followed only her own whims. She was running on in this strain, when I interrupted her by saying that I was acquainted with the cause of her dissatisfaction, but was astonished that a Christian as old as she was could disapprove of an action which merited the highest praise, and that if she had faith, she ought to know the value of a state so sublime as that of celibacy, which rendered feeble men like to the angels themselves. At these words Anastasia seemed to be in a perfect dream; and as she possessed a deeply seated devotion of spirit, she almost immediately began to turn the blame upon herself; she admired the courage of this virtuous girl, and at length became the foremost to fortify her in the holy resolution she had taken.... [As for Catherine], feeble as she was, she redoubled her diligence in labor, her watchings, fastings, and other austerities. It was then the end of autumn, when the Indians are accustomed to form their parties to go out to hunt during the winter in the forests. The sojourn which Catherine had already made there, and the pain she had suffered at being deprived of the religious privileges she possessed in the village, had induced her to form the resolution, as I have already mentioned, that she would never during her life return there. I thought, however, that the change of air and the diet, which is so much better in the forest, would be able to restore her health, which was now very much impaired. It was for this reason that I advised her to follow the family and others, who went to the hunting-grounds.[65]
"She remained, therefore, during the winter in the village, where she lived only on Indian corn, and was subjected indeed to much suffering. But not content with allowing her body only this insipid food, which could scarcely sustain it, she subjected it also to austerities and excessive penances, without taking counsel of any one, persuading herself that while the object was self-mortification, she was right in giving herself up to everything which could increase her fervor. She was incited to these holy exercises by the noble examples of self-mortification which she always had before her eyes. The spirit of penance reigned among the Christians at the Sault. Fastings, discipline carried even unto blood, belts lined with points of iron,—these were their most common austerities. And some of them, by these voluntary macerations, prepared themselves when the time came, to suffer the most fearful torments.... One in particular among them, named Etienne, signalized his constancy and faith. When environed by the burning flames [at Onondaga], he did not cease to encourage his wife, who was suffering the same torture, to invoke with him the holy name of Jesus. Being on the point of expiring, he rallied all his strength, and in imitation of his Master, prayed the Lord with a loud voice for the conversion of those who had treated him with such inhumanity. Many of the savages, touched by a spectacle so new to them, abandoned their country and came to the Mission du Sault, to ask for baptism, and live there in accordance with the laws of the Gospel.
"The women were not behind their husbands in the ardor they showed for a life of penance. They even went to such extremes that when it came to our knowledge we were obliged to moderate their zeal. Besides the ordinary instruments of mortification which they employed, they had a thousand new inventions to inflict suffering upon themselves. Some placed themselves in the snow when the cold was most severe; others stripped themselves to the waist in retired places, and remained a long time exposed to the rigor of the season, on the banks of a frozen river, and where the wind was blowing with violence. There were even those who, after having broken the ice in the ponds, plunged themselves in up to the neck, and remained there as long as it was necessary for them to recite many times the ten beads of their rosary. One of them did this three nights in succession, and it was the cause of so violent a fever that it was thought she would have died of it. Another one surprised me extremely by her simplicity. I learned that, not content with having herself used this mortification, she had also plunged her daughter, but three years old, into the frozen river, from which she drew her out half dead. When I sharply reproached her indiscretion, she answered me with a surprising naiveté, that she did not think she was doing anything wrong, but that knowing her daughter would one day certainly offend the Lord, she had wished to impose on her in advance the pain which her sin merited.
"Although those who inflicted these mortifications on themselves were particular to conceal them from the knowledge of the public, yet Catherine, who had a mind quick and penetrating, did not fail from various appearances to conjecture that which they held so secret; and as she studied every means to testify more and more her love to Jesus Christ, she applied herself to examine everything that was done pleasing to the Lord, that she might herself immediately put it in practice."
Chauchetière, alluding to the events of this same fall and winter (1678 and 1679), gives some details of her life not mentioned by Cholenec. He says:—
"As soon as she learned from Father Fremin that God left every Christian free to marry or not to marry, she lost no time in choosing a state of life for herself, and furthermore, if the fear that she had of appearing virtuous had not restrained her, she would have cut off her hair; she contented herself with dressing like those who were the most modest in the village. Father Fremin gave her some rules of life more special than those he gave to the others; he directed her to keep herself in retirement, above all during the summer time, when the canoes of the Ottawas came down, to remain in her cabin, and not go to the water's edge to see them arrive, like the rest. She also regarded what he said about not going to Montreal. In a word, it was only necessary to tell her a thing once, and she put it in practice. It was a common saying in the village that Catherine was never elsewhere than in her cabin or in the church; that she knew but two paths,—one to her field, and the other to her cabin. But to come in particular to the rules that she prescribed for herself, here are a few of them.
"Being a young Indian, twenty-two or twenty-three years old, she must naturally have liked to be well and properly dressed like the others, which consists in having the hair well oiled, well tied, and well parted, in having a long braid [queue] behind, and in adorning the neck with wampum. They like to have beautiful blankets and beautiful chemises, to have the leggings or mittens well made, and above all to have just the right kind of a moccasin; in a word, vanity possesses them.
"Catherine thought she could do away with all that, without eccentricity. But one could see by her dress what her thought was. She was not looking for a husband; she gave up all bright red blankets and all the ornaments that the Indian girls wear. She had a blue blanket, new and simple, for the days when she went to communion; but more than that, she had an interior, very perfect, which was known only to God; but which she could not hide so well but that her companion knew of it at the times of their greatest fervor.... Marie Thérèse Tegaiaguenta once told Catherine of certain movements of indignation that she had against herself and her sins; and that when she was going one day into the woods feeling herself oppressed with grief at the thought of her sins, she had taken a handful of switches and had given herself heavy strokes with them on her hands; and that another time having climbed a tall tree to get birch-bark for a piece of work, when she was at the top she was seized with fear. Casting her eyes to the foot of the tree where there were many stones, she believed with reason, that if she fell she would break her head. But a good thought came to her then, which confirmed her more than ever in all the good resolutions she had already made to serve God; for reflecting on her fear, she blamed herself for fearing to die and not fearing even more than that to fall into hell. Tears came into her eyes as she descended; and when she reached the ground, she sat down at the foot of the tree, throwing her bark aside, and giving way to the good feeling that had taken possession of her."
Kateri did not forget what her companion told her about the switches, and resolved to make a daily practice for herself which she could keep up during the time of the chase.
While her sister with her family were off at the hunting-camp, Kateri had as much time as she could wish to satisfy her devotion at the village chapel. She remained there so many hours on her knees in the coldest winter weather, that more than once some one or other of the blackgowns, moved with compassion at sight of her half-frozen condition, obliged her to leave the chapel and go warm herself. Kateri had at last learned, by repeated inquiries, all she wanted to know about the nuns whom she had seen at Montreal. She was now aware that they were Christian virgins consecrated to God by a vow of perpetual continence.
Cholenec says:—