{254} The great festival of Christmas, the day on which the little band was to be added to the number of the true children of God, will never be effaced from the memory of our good Indians. The manner in which we celebrated midnight mass, may give you an idea of our festival. The signal for rising, which was to be given a few minutes before midnight, was the firing of a pistol, announcing to the Indians that the house of prayer would soon be open. This was followed by a general discharge of guns, in honor of the birth of the Infant Saviour, and three hundred voices rose spontaneously from the midst of the forest, and entoned in the language of the Pends d’Oreilles, the beautiful canticle: “Du Dieu puissant tout annonce la gloire.”—“The Almighty’s glory all things proclaim.” In a moment a multitude of adorers were seen wending their way to the humble temple of the Lord—resembling indeed, the manger in which the Messiah was born. On that night, which all at once became bright as day, they experienced, I know not what, that which made them exclaim aloud, “Oh God! I give Thee my heart.” Oh! I trust that the happy impression which this unwonted spectacle made upon their hearts, will never be effaced. Of {255} what was our little church of the wilderness constructed? I have already told you—of posts fresh cut in the woods, covered over with mats and bark; these were its only materials. On the eve, the church was embellished with garlands and wreaths of green boughs; forming, as it were, a frame for the images which represent the affecting mysteries of Christmas night. The interior was ornamented with pine branches. The altar was neatly decorated, bespangled with stars of various brightness, and covered with a profusion of ribbons—things exceedingly attractive to the eye of an Indian. At midnight I celebrated a solemn Mass, the Indians sang several canticles suitable to the occasion. That peace announced in the first verse of the Angelic hymn—“The Gloria,—Peace on earth to men of good will,” was, I venture to say, literally fulfilled to the Indians of the forest. A grand banquet, according to Indian custom, followed the first Mass. Some choice pieces of the animals slain in the chase had been set apart for the occasion. I ordered half a sack of flour, and a large boiler of sweetened coffee to be added. The union, the contentment, the joy, and charity, which pervaded {256} the whole assembly, might well be compared to the agape of the primitive Christians.
After the second High Mass, all the adults, with the chiefs at their head, presented themselves in the church to receive baptism, the fulfilment of their longing desires. The old man and woman whom I baptized two years before, were sponsors for all. The men were placed on the one side, according to the custom of Paraguay, and the women on the other. I was assisted during the ceremony, by Father Hoecken, their worthy and zealous missionary. Everything was done in order and with propriety. Permit me to repeat here that I should be delighted could I but communicate to the zealous and fervent, those pleasurable feelings—that overflowing of the heart, which one experiences on such occasions. Here, indeed, the Indian missionary enjoys his greatest consolations: here he obtains his strength, his courage, his zeal to labor to bring men to the knowledge of the true God, in spite of the poverty, the privations of every description, and the dangers with which he has to contend. Yes, surely, even in this life is the promise of the Saviour fulfilled with regard to him, “Ye shall receive {257} a hundred fold.” The trifling things of the world he abandons, are nothing to be compared with the blessings he finds in the wilderness. The priest does not address in vain to the Indians, those beautiful words of the Roman ritual; “Receive this white garment, etc.,” “Receive this burning taper, etc.” He may be certain that the greater number of his catechumens will wear that spotless garment—will preserve their baptismal innocence, to the hour of their death. When I have afterwards asked them, if they have not offended God? if their conscience does not reproach them with some fault? how often have I received this touching and consoling answer: “Oh, Father! in baptism I renounced sin, I try to avoid sin, the very thought of offending God, frightens me!” The ceremonies of baptism were closed by a second instruction, and by the distribution of beads which the Indians are accustomed to say every evening in public.
About 3 o’clock in the afternoon, the solemn benediction of the blessed sacrament was given for the first time, immediately after which, upwards of fifty couples, many of whom were eighty years old, came forward to renew before the Church, their marriage promises. I could not {258} help shedding tears of joy at witnessing this truly primitive simplicity, and the love and affection with which they pledged again their faith to each other. The last instruction was then given, and thanks were returned to God for all the blessings he had vouchsafed to shower upon them, on this ever-memorable day. The recitation of prayers and the chanting of hymns were heard in all the lodges of the camp, till the night was far advanced.
Fathers Mengarini and Serbinati, (the last-mentioned Father has since died), had the consolation to see the whole tribe of the Flat-Heads, among whom they had been laboring, approach the Holy Table on this day. Twelve young Indians, taught by Father Mengarini, performed with accuracy, several pieces of music during the midnight Mass. Fathers Point and Joset had, also, the consolation of admitting for the first time, nearly the entire tribe of the Cœur d’Alenes, on this auspicious day, to the Holy Communion. Father Point has given the particulars of this first communion in a letter, which has been published, and which you have, no doubt, read with pleasure. The Christmas of 1844 was, therefore, a great and glorious day in the Rocky Mountains.
{259} I will close this already lengthy letter with a few words more concerning the Pends d’Oreilles of the Bay. Early in the spring of 1845, began to build upon the spot selected for the Reduction of St. Ignatius, and to open fields. On Ascension day of the same year, Father Hoecken administered baptism to upwards of a hundred adults. At my last visit, which I paid them in July last, they had already put up fourteen log houses, besides a large barn, had the timber prepared for a church, and had upwards of three hundred acres in grain, enclosed by a substantial fence. The whole village, men, women, and children, had worked most cheerfully. I counted thirty head of horned cattle—the squaws had learned to milk the cows and to churn; they had a few hogs and some domestic fowls. The number of Christians had doubled since Christmas, 1844.
A flour and saw mill, a few more ploughs, with other agricultural implements, and carpenter’s tools, were much wanted in the village of St. Ignatius. All is to be commenced among these poor, good Indians, and to us they look for means and supplies, which we readily grant as far as we are able. Already was an appeal made to the generous and charitable {260} Christians, and it is consoling for me to say, that appeal found an echo in the hearts of the friends of the Indians, which enabled us to enlarge our missionary operations, and I may add, that the grateful prayer of the Indians is daily ascending to the throne of the Almighty, to implore the blessings of Heaven on their benefactors. In 1845 and ’46, several stations were formed, and the extensive mission of New Caledonia was commenced.
I remain, with profound respect and esteem, madam, your very humble and obedient servant,
P. J. De Smet, S. J.