It is quite charming to follow good F. White, missionary, saint, scholar, “vir non minus sanctitate vitæ, quam doctrina conspicuus,” in his humble and earnest and successful labors among the savage aborigines of Maryland. His great soul was given up to his holy mission. We follow the little fleet, the Ark and the Dove (what beautiful and significant names—the ark of Noah, and the dove sent forth by the patriarch!), over the waste of waters, where they had not only the dangers of the sea, but Turks and pirates, to dread, even from the British Channel onward over the whole Virginian Ocean.
On the 25th of March, a.d. 1634, the pious missionaries celebrated, as they believed, the first Mass ever said in Maryland. But it seems that some of their own order had preceded them on this field; for as early as 1570 F. Segura and other Spanish Jesuits from Florida were endeavoring to bring the Indian tribes on the shores of the Chesapeake into the Christian fold, when they were ruthlessly murdered before the rustic altar on which they had daily offered the Holy Sacrifice for the traitors who slew them (Woodstock Letters).
The colonists in S. Mary's soon made friendly relations with the Indians, and the missionaries had the inexpressible happiness of bringing many over to the true faith. The fathers would often-times leave the dwellings of the whites to abide entirely with the Indians, though the governor disapproved of remote excursions, on account of the treachery of hostile tribes, who were always hovering around the borders. The fathers, moreover, had no light duties in attending to the spiritual wants of the colonists themselves, who were largely, but by no means exclusively, good Catholics.
In those primitive days, when all the freemen of the province met in general assembly for the purposes of legislation, F. White and his colleagues were summoned to take part in the sessions; but they declined the honor, and, as “they earnestly requested to be excused [pg 539] from taking part in the secular concerns of the colony, their request was granted.” They could do their work more effectively, ad majorem Dei gloriam, in the rude Indian wigwam where they had established an altar, than in the hall of the legislative assembly.
Lord Baltimore obtained lands from the Indians by purchase, and not by conquest, and colonists and Indians and missionaries were usually upon the most friendly terms together. The Indians treated the strangers to their dishes, to pone and omini, and roasting ears, and game, and fish, and oysters; and, in return, during a season of famine, the Indians were supplied from the not over-abundant stores of the colonists. The natives then were not inclined to strong potations: “They are especially careful to refrain from wine and warm drinks, and are not easily persuaded to taste them, except some whom the English have corrupted with their own vices.” Alas! from that day to this how many untold thousands of the children of the forest have been sent, body and soul, to perdition by the infusion and diffusion among them of English vices!
The missionaries give accounts of their labors with a naïveté that is charming. We can see them starting on the broad river in a little boat—a father, an interpreter, and a servant-man of all work, with their supplies of bread and cheese, and dried corn and beans, with a bottle of wine for religious purposes, a casket with the sacred utensils, and a table as an altar for performing sacrifice, and another casket with trifles for the Indians—bells, combs, fishing-hooks, needles and thread, and other such commodities. They take a tent to cover them when beyond the reach of English residents, and, after a weary day's work, they lie down by the open fire to take their rest. “If fear of rain threatens, we erect our hut, and cover it with a larger mat spread over; nor, praise be to God, do we enjoy this humble fare and hard couch with a less joyful mind than more luxurious provisions in Europe.” In fact, they are so happy in their work that they think God gives them already a foretaste of the blessed life of the future.
Upon one of these excursions a friendly Indian was pursued by enemies and transfixed with a spear; they “pierced him through from the right side to the left, at a hand's breath below the arm-pit, near the heart itself, with a wound two fingers broad at each side.” Some of the man's friends were converts, and they called in F. White to prepare him for death. The missionary gave him suitable instructions, taught him short prayers, and received him into the church, and, touching his wounds with relics of the most holy cross, took his leave, directing the bystanders, when he should breath his last, to take him to the chapel for the purpose of burial. The next day this same Indian, with a companion, followed the father in a boat, showed him the red spots where the wounds were of the previous day, exclaiming “that he is entirely well, nor from the hour at which the father had left yesterday had he ceased to invoke the most holy name of Jesus, to whom he attributed his recovered health.”
The people of the lower counties of Maryland have always had a reputation for culture, refinement, and good manners. They appear to have these traits by inheritance. “The Catholics who live in the [pg 540] colony,” writes a missionary (a.d. 1640), “are not inferior in piety to those who live in other countries; but in urbanity of manners, according to the judgment of those who have visited the other colonies, are considered far superior to them.”
We find we are extending what was intended for a brief notice into a regular article, for which the reader may or not thank us; an abiding and essential interest in the cause must be our apology. We will say but little more, though the theme admits of vast expansion.
In Lord Baltimore's Declaratio, or account of the colony—which, by the way, is very much couleur de rose (“It is sad to contrast the glowing accounts of Maryland in the Declaratio and the painful experience of the missionaries,” says the editor with great justice)—we find him inviting his countrymen to go to his colony, not only to better their material interests, but also to spread the seeds of religion and piety—a work, he says, dignum angelis, dignum Anglis. This recalls to mind the happy witticism of the great pontiff who sent Augustine to perform the same work with the English themselves.