And thus it was with the proud Hurons
In that far-off and happy time;
Those strange children of the lone forest,
Reared where nature reigns sublime.
And thus it was the Jesuit fathers
Found this strange people by the shores
Of Lake Simcoe and wide Lake Huron
In palisaded towns by scores.
There with infinite care and kindness
They labored on through blood and tears,
Suffering torture and privation
For many long and weary years.
But the grand light at last is dawning,
Their work at last is signalized;
O’ercome at last, the Huron nation
Receives, is won, and Christianized.
And the dense wilderness resounded
With song and praise to God above;
Those savage hearts grew meek and tender
When purified by Christian love.
And they followed the Great Spirit,
And with never-failing zeal
Taught the lost from tribes far distant
Of the Saviour’s love to heal.
And for war no more they thirsted,
But prayed that peace might e’er prevail,
And tore the warpost from its socket—
No more they would their foes assail.
Now they worked among the maize fields,
Hunted, fished, and stored away,
Wisely, industriously preparing
For winter’s tempestuous day.
Suddenly the sky grew threatening,
Shadowy forms seemed in the air;
A ghostly moan swept down the forest,
A weird, hush’d wailing of despair.
Was ’t to warn of danger pending
Those phantom shapes and mournful cries
Came from across the faint, far distance
Along the dismal, startled skies.
And those frightened forest children
Gazed in awe upon the scene,
And they appealed to the Great Spirit
That he would save, and intervene
To avert impending danger,
And clear the sinister skies again,
To assuage the fear that fell upon them,
Relieve their hearts from anxious pain.
Suddenly the war-whoop sounded
From the ferocious Iroquois,
And from the dense concealing forest
They burst with fierce and hideous noise.
And they fell upon the Hurons,
Stunned by fright and unprepared;
There was no preconcerted action,
Cunningly they were caught and snared.
In vain the Huron warriors struggled,
In vain they nobly fought and died—
They could not stem that whirlwind onset,
And hundreds fell on every side.
The old and young alike were butchered,
Not e’en the little child was spared;
In vain the cry for life and mercy,
All, all that hideous slaughter shared.
Hundreds, too, of pleading prisoners
To the torture post were tied,
Burned and mangled and insulted,
When on God for help they cried.
Aye, like wolves compelled by hunger,
They thirsted for the Hurons’ blood;
And remorselessly they slaughtered,
Revelling in the crimson flood.
And when sated, like the wild wolf,
They glide like serpents swift away,
And gain the dense concealing forest,
Disappearing ’neath the shadows gray.
Then was mourning in the wigwams,
O’er their kin in hundreds slain;
Burned and rifled habitations
Make sore the heart by loss and pain.