FRED LOCKLEY
RARE WESTERN BOOKS
4227 S. E. Stark St.
PORTLAND. ORE.

YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

1936

PERILS

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS:

ftoiitas 0f Sjfiptomfc ma pmm'CaptMtg.

GLEANED FROM EARLY MISSIONARY ANNALS.

JOHN GILMART SHEA,
AUTHOE OF THE "DISCOVEKT AND EXPLORATION OF THE MISSISSIPPI,"
"HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC MISSIONS," "SCHOOL
HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES," ETC.

BOSTON:
PATEICK DONAHOE.
1857.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. PAGE.
The Shipwreck of Father Charles Lalemant, Father Philibert Noy-
rot, of the Sooiety of Jesus, and others, off Cape Breton. . . 9
CHAPTER II.
Captivity of Father Isaac Jogues, of the Society of Jesus, among
the Mohawks.  16
CHAPTER HI.
Captivity and death of Rene Goupil.  86
CHAPTER IV.
Death of Father Jogues  95
CHAPTER V.
Captivity of Father Francis Joseph BresBani, of the Society of Jesus. 104
CHAPTER Tl.
Voyages and Shipwrecks of Father Emmanuel Crespel, Reoolleot of
the order of St. Francis.  131

VI. PREFACE.
plain, pubhshed at Paris in 1632 ; the narrative
of Father Jogues' captivity, taken from a sworn
copy, preserved at Montreal, and from that
printed in the Societas Militans of Tanner ; the
captivity and death of Rene Goupil from the
autograph of the martyred Jogues ; Letters of
Father Jogues from the Relations de la Nouvelle
France, and sworn copies ; the captivity of Father
Bressani, from his work Breve Relatione, published
at Macerata, in 1653; and the thrilling account
given by Father Crespel of his shipwreck on
Anticosti, being the whole of the little volume
published by him at Frankfort, Maine, in 1742.
New York, Anniversary of the death ?
of Father Jogues, 1856. \
JOHN GILMARY SHEA.

Imfa af f|e dftett aitlr Hiltera,

PERILS

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS.

CHAPTER I.

THE SHIPWRECK OF FATHER CHARLES LALEMANT, PHTLIBERT NOTBOT,
AND OTHERS, OFF CAPE BRETON.
The 'writer of the following letter was one of the most eminent
of the early Jesuit missionaries in Canada, where several others
of his family were distinguished, and one, the illustrious Father
Gabriel Lalemant, died a martyr to his zeal for the conversion of the
Indians. Father Charles Lalemant, a son of the Sieur Lalemant, Lieutenant
Criminel of Paris, was born in that city in 1587. He entered the
Society of Jesus at the age of twenty, and was soon followed by his
two brothers, Jerome and Louis, the latter a celebrated ascetical
author. Father Charles was one of the .missionaries at the colony
of St. Savior's, on Mount Desert Island, in Maine, in 1613, and was
there taken prisoner. He was subsequently Hector of the College at
Paris, but was again sent to Canada, in 1625. Two years afterwards
he returned to France for supphes, but, on reaching the mouth of
the St. Lawrence, in the summer of 1629, the captain learned that
Quebec had been taken by the Enghsh. In endeavoring to sail back,
the vessel was lost. Father Lalemant thus describes the shipwreck,
in a letter to his Superior. We translate from the French, as pub
lished by the illustrious Champlain, in the edition of his voyages
which appeared at Paris in 1632.

10 PERILS OF THE

LETTER.

" ' The Lord chastising has chastised me ; but he hath
not delivered me over to death.' " — (Psalms cxvii. 18.)
A chastisement the more severe, as the. shipwreck has
been attended by the death of the Rev. Father Phihbert
Noyrot, and of our brother, Louis Malot, two men who
would, it seems to me, have been of great service to our
seminary. Yet, as God has so disposed, we must seek
consolation in his holy will, out of which there never
was a solid or contented mind, and I am sure that expe
rience has shown your reverence that the bitterness of
our sorrows, steeped in the sweetness of God's good
pleasure, when a soul binds itself indissolubly to that,
loses all or most of its gall, or, if some sighs yet remain
for past or present afflictions, it is only to aspire the
more for heaven, and meritoriously perfect that con
formity in which the soul has resolved to spend the rest
of its days.
" Of the four members of our Society in the ship,
God, dividing equally, has taken two and left the two
others. These two good religious, well disposed, and
resigned to death, will serve as victims to appease God's
wrath justly excited against us for our faults, and to
render his goodness favorable henceforth to the success
of our designs.
"What destroyed our vessel was a violent south-
wester, which arose when we were off the coast ; it was
so impetuous that, with all the care and diligence of our
captain and crew, with all the vows and prayers which
we could offer to avert the blow, we could not avoid

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 11
being driven on the rocks, on the 26th day after our
departure, feast of St. Bartholomew, about 9 o'clock in
the evening. Of twenty-four that were in the vessel,
only ten escaped ; the rest were engulphed in the waves.
Father Noyrot's two nephews shared their uncle's fate.
We interred the bodies of several, among others, of
Father Noyrot and Brother Louis. Of seven others,
we have had no tidings in spite of all our search.
" To tell you how Father yieuxport and I escaped,
would be difficult, and I beheve that God alone knows,
who, according to the designs of his divine providence,
has preserved us ; for, for my own part, not deeming it
possible, humanly speaking, to avoid the dangers, I had
resolved to stay in the cabin with Brother Louis, pre
paring ourselves to receive the death stroke, which could
not be delayed over three Misereres, when I heard some
one calling me on deck. Supposing that my assistance
was needed, I ran up and found that it was Father Noy
rot, who asked me to give him absolution. After giv
ing it, and. singing the Salve Regina with him, I had
to stay on deck ; for there was no way to get below ;
for the sea was so high and the wind so furious, that, in
less than a moment, the side on the rock went to pieces.
I was close by Father Noyrot when a wave broke so
impetuously against the side where we were standing,
that it dashed it to pieces, and separated me from Father
Noyrot, from whose lips I heard these last words :
' Into thy hands I commend my spirit.' For my own
part, this same wave left me struggling amid four frag
ments of the wreck, two of which struck me so violently
on the chest, and the other two on the back, that I ex
pected to be killed before sinking forever ; but, just

12 PERILS OF THE
then, another wave disengaged me from the fragments,
sweeping off my cap and slippers, and scattered the rest
of the ship over the sea. I fortunately fell on a plank
to which I clung ; it was connected with the rest of the
side of the ship. There we were then at the mercy of
the waves, which did not spare us, rising I cannot tell
how many feet above our heads, and then breaking over
us. After floating thus a long while in the dark, for
night had set in, I perceived, on looking around me,
that I was near the shore of what seemed to be an
island, which almost surrounded us, and was covered
with brambles. Looking a little more attentively, I
made out six persons not far from me, two of whom
perceiving me, urged me to do my best to join them ;
this was not easy, for I was greatly enfeebled by the
blows I had received from the fragments of the wreck. I
exerted myself, however, so much that, by the help of
my planks, I at last reached them, and by their aid got
on the mainmast, which was still fast to part of the ship.
I was not here long ; for, as we got nearer the island,
our sailors quickly got ashore, and, by their help, all
the rest of us were soon there. There we were, seven
in all ; I had no hat or shoes ; my cassock and clothes
all torn, and my body so bruised that I could scarcely
stand up, and, in fact, they had to support me to en
able me to reach the wood. I had two severe contu
sions on the legs, especially the right one, which is
still painful ; my hands cloven open and bruised ; my
hip torn, and my chest much injured. We now re
tired to the wood wet as we came from the sea. Our
first care was to thank God for preserving us, and to
pray for those who were lost. That done, we lay down

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 13
close by each other in order tc* try and get warm,
but the ground and the grass, still wet with the heavy
rain, was not much fitted to dry us. Thus we spent the
rest of the night, during which Father Vieuxport,
who, thank God, was unhurt, slept well. The next
morning, at daybreak, we began to examine the spot
where we were, and found it to be an island from
which we could pass to the main land. On the shore
we found many things that the sea had thrown up ;
among which I picked up two shoes, a cap, hat, cassock,
and other necessary articles. Above all, Providence
sent us, in our want, five kegs of wine, ten pieces of
pork, oil, bread, cheese, and a gun and powder, which
enabled us to strike a fire. After we had thus gathered
all we could, on St. Louis' day, all set to work to do
their best to build a boat out of fragments of the wreck,
in which to coast along till we found a fishing-smack.
We set to work with the wretched tools we found, and
it was pretty well advanced on the fourth day, when we
perceived a craft sailing towards the spot where we
were. They took on board one of our sailors, who
swam out near to where they were passing, and took
him to their captain. That worthy man, hearing of our
misfortunes, let down his boat, and came ashore to offer
us a passage. We were thus saved ; for, the next day,
we all slept on board. It was a Basque vessel, fishing
about a league and a half from the rock where we struck,
and, as their fishing season was far from being gone,
we stayed with them the rest of August and .all the
month of September. On the first of October, an In
dian came to tell the captain that, if he did not sail, he
ran a risk of being taken by the English. This, news

14 PERILSOFTHE
made him give up -his fishing, and prepare for the
voyage home. The same Indian told us that Captain
Daniel was building a house twenty-five leagues off,
and had some Frenchmen there with one of our fathers.
Father Vieuxport had already pressed me very hard to
let him stay with this Indian, who was really one of the
best that could be found. I now told him, "Here,
father, is a means of satisfying your reverence. Father
Vimont will not be sorry to have a companion. This
Indian offers to take you to Daniel's place • if you wish
to stay there, you may ; if you wish to spend a few
months with the Indians and learn the language, you
may do so, and both Father Vimont and yourself
will be satisfied." The good father was quite delighted
at the opportunity, and set off in the Indian's canoe. I
let him have all we had saved, except the large paint
ing which our Basque captain had taken, and which I
would have made him give up, if another disaster had
not befallen us. We left the coast on the sixth of
October, and after more violent storms than I had yet
ever seen, on the fortieth day of our voyage, as we were
entering a port near San Sebastian in Spain, we were a
second time wrecked. The vessel went into a thousand
pieces, and all the fish was lost. All that I could do
was to get into a boat in slippers and nightcap as I was,
and, in that guise, go to our Father's at San Sebastian.
I left there a week after, and, on the 20th of the pres
ent month, reached Bourdevac, near Bordeaux.
" Suf h was the issue of our voyage, by which you may
see how great reason we have to be thankful to God.
Charles Lalemant, S. J.
Bordeaux, November 22, 1629."

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 15
Although thus twice wrecked, and once a prisoner, Father Lale
mant was not to be repulsed from the Canada mission. He came
out again in 1634, and began his projected school at Quebec. After
attending Champlain on his death-bed, he returned to France,
and died at the advanced age of eighty-seven, having been success
ively rector of the colleges of Rouen, La Fleche, and Paris, and being,
at the time of his death, Superior of the Professed House in his
native city. Besides the foregoing narrative of his shipwreck, he
wrote a Relation of the first Jesuit mission to Canada, published in
the Mercure Frangais, and " Entretiens sur la vie cacMe de Jesus
Christ dans F Eucharistie,'' a new edition of which has just been
published in France, edited by Father A. Cadres.

16 PERILS OF THE

CHAPTER II.
CAPTIVITY OF FATHER ISAAC JOGTJES AMONG THE MOHAWKS.
Father Isaac Jogues, the writer of the following
narrative, was born at Orleans, in France, in 1607, and,
embracing the rule of St. Ignatius, became a member
of the Society of Jesus, in 1624. Although a poet and
scholar, he sought a foreign mission, and was sent to
Canada soon after his ordination in 1636. After a short
stay at Miscou, he proceeded to the country of the
Wendats or Hurons, in Upper Canada, and remained
there amid every privation till 1642, when he was sent
to Quebec by his Superior for necessaries of various
kinds. On his return voyage, he was taken prisoner,
and he thus relates his sufferings in a letter written
from Renssalaerwick, now Albany, to the Provincial in
France. The letter, which is in a pure and classic Latin,
was first published by Alegambe, in his Mortes lilustres,
and subsequently by Tanner, in his Societas Militans,
both rare works. A sworn copy of the original letter
is preserved at Montreal in manuscript.
narrative.
Reverend Father in Christ — the Peace op
Christ. — Wishing, as I do, to write to your reverence,
I hesitate first in which language to address you, for,
after such long disuse, almost equally forgetful of both,
I find equal difficulty in each. Two reasons, however,

ocean and wilderness. 17
induce me to employ the less common idiom. I shall
be better able to use the words of Holy Scripture, which
have been, at all times, my greatest consolation : " Amid
the tribulations which have found us exceedingly." —
Psalms xiv. 2. I also wished this letter to be less
open to all. The exceeding charity of your reverence,
which, in other days, overlooked my manifold trans
gressions, will excuse, in a man for eight years a com
panion and associate of savages, nay, a savage now him
self in form and dress, whatever may be wanting in
decorum or correctness. I fear more that, wanting in
language, I may be still more so in knowledge, " nor
know the time of my visitation," nor remember what
character I here bear imposed on me by God as a
preacher of his gospel, a Jesuit and a priest. This in
duced me to write to your reverence that, if this letter
should ever reach your hands, I may, though lying
here in this hard land, amid Iroquois and Maaquas,
be helped by your masses, and the prayers of your
whole province. This, I am in hopes, will be more
earnestly given, when, from the perusal of this letter,
you shall see, both how much I am indebted to the
Almighty, and in what need I am of the prayers of
the pious, in which, I am aware, I have a powerful
shield. We sailed from the Huron territory on the 13th of
June, 1642, in four small boats, here called canoes ; we
were twenty-three souls in all, five of us being French.
This line of travel is, in itself, most difficult for many
reasons, and especially because, in no less than forty
places, both canoes and baggage had to be carried by
land on the shoulders. It was now too full of danger

18 PERILS OF IHE
from fear of the enemy, who, every year, by lying in
wait on the roads to the French settlements, carry off
many as prisoners ; and, indeed, Father John Brebeuf
was all but taken the year before. Besides this, not
long before they carried off two Frenchmen, but after
wards brought them back to their countrymen un
harmed, demanding peace on most unjust terms, and
then conducted themselves in a very hostile manner, so
that they were driven off by the cannons of the fort.
On this, they declared that, if they took another French- "
man prisoner, they would torture him cruelly, like their
other captives, and burn him alive by a slow fire. The
Superior, conscious of the dangers I was exposed to on
this journey, which was, however, absolutely necessary
for God's glory, so assigned the task to me, that I might
decline it if I chose ; " I did not, however, resist; I did not
go back ; " (Isaias 1. 5 ;) but willingly and cheerfully
accepted this mission imposed upon me by obedience
and charity. Had I declined it, it would have fallen to
another, far more worthy than myself.
Having, therefore, loosed from St. Mary's of the
Hurons, amid ever-varying fears of the enemy, dan
gers of every kind, losses by land and water, we at last,
on the thirtieth day after our departure, reached in
safety the Conception of the Blessed Virgin. This is a
French settlement or colony, called Three Rivers, from
a most charming stream near it, which discharges itself
into the great river St. Lawrence, by three mouths.
We returned hearty thanks to God, and remained here
and at Quebec about two weeks.
The business which had brought us, having been
concluded, we celebrated the feast of our holy Father

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 19
Ignatius, and, on the second of August, were once
more on our way for Huronia. The second day after
our departure had just dawned, when, by the early
light, some of our party discovered fresh foot-prints
on the shore. While some were maintaining that they
were the trail of the enemy, others, that of a friendly
party, Eustace Ahatsistari, to whom, for his gallant
feats of arms, all yielded the first rank, exclaimed:
" Brothers ! be they the bravest of the foe, for such I
judge them by their trail, they are no more than three
canoes, and we number enough not to dread such a
handful of the enemy." We were, in fact, forty, for
some other had joined us.
We consequently urged on our way, but had scarcely
advanced a mile, when we fell into an ambush of the
enemy, who lay in two divisions on the opposite banks
of the river, to the number of seventy in twelve canoes.
As soon as we reached the spot where they lay in
ambush, they poured in a volley of musketry from the
reeds and tall grass, where they lurked. Our canoes
were riddled, but, though well supplied with fire-arms,
they killed none, one Huron only being shot through
the hand. At the first report of the fire-arms, the
Hurons, almost to a man, abandoned the canoes, which,
to avoid the more rapid current of the centre of the
river, were advancing close by the bank, and in head
long flight, plunged into the thickest of the woods.
We, four Frenchmen, left with a few, either already
Christians, or at least Catechumens, offering up a prayer
to Christ, faced the enemy. We were, however, out
numbered, being scarcely twelve or fourteen against
thirty ; yet we fought on, till our comrades, seeing fresh

20 PERILS OF THE
canoes shoot out from the opposite bank of the river,
lost heart and fled. Then a Frenchman named Bene
Goupil, who was fighting with the bravest, was taken
with some of the Hurons. When I saw this, I neither
could, nor cared to fly. Where, indeed, could I
escape, barefooted as I was ? Conceal myself amid
the reeds and tall grass, I could indeed, and thus
escape; but could I leave a countryman, and the
unchristened Hurons already taken or soon to be 1 As
the enemy, in hot pursuit of the fugitives, had passed
on, leaving me standing on the battle-field, I called out
to one of those who remained to guard the prisoners,
and bade him make me a fellow captive to his French
captive, that, as I had been his companion on the way,
so would I be in his dangers and death. Scarce giving
credit to what he heard, and fearful for himself, he
advanced and led me to the other prisoners.
Dearest brother, I then exclaimed, wonderfully hath
God dealt with us ! " but he is the Lord, let him do
what is good in his sight ; " — 1 Kings iii. 18. " As
it hath pleased him, so hath it come to pass, blessed be
his name ; " then, hearing his confession, I gave him
absolution. I now turned to the Huron prisoners, and,
instructing them one by one, baptized them ; as new
prisoners were constantly taken in their flight, my labor
was constantly renewed. At length Eustace Ahatsistari,
that famous Christian chief, was brought in ; when he
saw me, he exclaimed, " Solemnly did I swear, brother,
that I would live or die by thee." What I answered,
I know not, so had grief overcome me. Last of all,
William Couture was dragged in ; he too, had set out
from Huronia with me. When he saw all in confusion,

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 21
he had, with the rest, taken to the woods, and, being a
young man endowed with great gifts in body as well as
in mind, had, by his great agility, left the enemy far
behind. When he looked around and could see nothing
of me, " Shall I," he said to himself, "abandon my dear
Father, a prisoner in the hands of savages, and fly with
out him ? Not I." Then returning by the path which
he had taken in flight, he gave himself up to the enemy.
Would that he had fled, nor swelled our mournful
band ! for, in such a case, it is no comfort to have com
panions, especially those whom you love as yourself.
Yet such are the souls, who, though but laymen, (with
no views of earthly reward,) serve God and the Society
among the Hurons.
It is painful to think, even, of all his terrible suffer
ings. Their hate was enkindled against all the French,
but especially against him, as they knew that one of
their bravest had fallen by his hand in the fight. He
was accordingly first stripped naked, all his nails torn
out, his very fingers gnawed, and a broad-sword driven
through his right hand. Mindful of the wounds of
pur Lord Jesus Christ, he bore, as he afterwards told
me, this pain, though most acute, with great joy.
When I beheld him, thus bound and naked, I could
not contain myself, but, leaving my keepers, I rushed
through the midst of the savages who had brought him,
embraced him most tenderly, exhorted him to offer all
this to God for himself, and those at whose hands he
suffered. They at first looked on in wonder at my
proceedings ; then, as if recollecting themselves, and
gathering all their rage, they fell upon me, and, with
-their fists, thongs, and a club, beat me till I fell sense-

22 PERILS OF THE
less. Two of them then dragged me back to where I
had been before, and scarcely had I begun to breathe,
when some others, attacking me, tore out, by biting,
almost all my nails, and crunched my two fore-fingers
with their teeth, giving me intense pain. The same
was done to Ren6 Goupil, the Huron captives being
left untouched.
When all had come in from the pursuit, in which
two Hurons were killed, they carried us across the
river, and there shared the plunder of the twelve canoes,
(for eight had joined us.) This was very great, for,
independent of what each Frenchman had with him,
we had twenty packages containing church plate and
vestments, books and other articles of the kind ; a rich
cargo indeed, considering the poverty of our Huron
mission. While they were dividing the plunder, I
completed the instruction of such as were unchristened,
and baptized them. Among the rest was one sere,
octogenarian chief, who, when ordered to enter the
canoe to be borne off with the rest, exclaimed, " How
shall I, a hoary old man, go to a strange and foreign
land? Never! here will I die." As he absolutely
refused to go, they slew him on the very spot where he
had just been baptized.
Raising then a joyful shout which made the forest
ring, " as conquerors who rejoice after taking a prey,"
( Isaias ix. 3, ) they bore us off, twenty-two captives,
towards their own land ; three had been killed. By
the favor of God our sufferings on that march, which
lasted thirteen* days, were indeed great — hunger, and
* The Italian version of F. Bressani and the Latin, as given by Alegambe,
say 88. The context suffices to correct this typographical fault, which 4s not
in the Relation of 1646-7.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 23
heat, and menaces, the savage fury of the Indians, the
intense pain of our untended and now putrefying
wounds, swarming even with worms ; but no trial came
harder upon me than when, five or six days after, they
would come up to us, weary with the march, and in cold
blood, with minds in no wise aroused by passion, pluck
out our hair and beard, and drive their nails, which are
always very sharp, deep into parts most tender and sen
sitive to the slightest impression. But this was out
ward; my internal sufferings affected me still more
when I beheld that funeral procession of doomed Chris
tians pass before my eyes, among them five old converts,
the main pillars of the infant Huron- church.
Indeed, I ingenuously admit, that I was again and again
unable to withold my tears, mourning over their lot and
that of my other companions, and full of anxious solic
itude for the future. For I beheld the way to the
Christian faith closed by these Iroquois, on the Hurons,
and countless other nations, unless they were checked
by some seasonable dispensation of Divine Providence.
On the eighth day we fell in with a troop of two
hundred Indians * going out to fight. And as it is the
custom for the savages, when out on war parties, to
initiate themselves as it were by cruelty, under the
belief that their success will be greater as they shall
have been more cruel, they thus received us. First
rendering thanks to the sun, which they imagine presides
over war, they congratulated their countrymen by a joy
ful volley of musketry. Each then cut off some stout
clubs in the neighboring wood in order to receive us.
* This was on an island in Lake Champlain. Here the Latin text inserts
eome details not is the MS. of 1652.

24 PERILSOFTHE
When, therefore, we landed from the canoes, they fell
upon us from both sides with their clubs, with such
fury, that I, who was the last, and therefore most exposed
to their blows, sank, overcome by their number and
severity, before I had accomplished half the rocky way
that led to the hill on which a stage had been erected
for us. I thought I should soon die there ; and so,
partly because I could not, partly because I cared not,
I did not arise. How long they spent their fury on
me, he knows for whose love and sake I suffered all,
and for whom it is delightful and glorious to suffer. —
Moved at length by a cruel mercy, and wishing to carry
me into their country alive, they refrained from beating
me. And, thus half dead, and drenched in blood, they
bore me to the stage. I had scarce begun to breathe,
when they ordered me to come down, to load me with
scoffs and insults, and countless blows on my head and
shoulders, and indeed on my whole body. I should be
tedious were I to attempt to tell all that the French
prisoners suffered. They burnt one of my fingers, and
crunched another with their teeth ; others already thus
mangled, they so wrenched by the tattered nerve, that,
even now, though healed, they are frightfully deformed.
Nor indeed was the lot of my fellow-sufferers much
better. >
But one thing showed that God watched over us, and
was trying us rather than casting us off. One of these
savages, breathing nought but blood and cruelty, came
up to me, scarce able to stand on my feet, and, seizing
my nose with one hand, prepared to cut it off with a
large knife which he held in the other. What could
I do ? Believing that I was soon to be burnt at the

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 25
stake, unmoved, I awaited the stroke, groaning to my
God in heart ; when stayed, as if by a supernatural
power, he drew back his hand in the very act of cutting.
About a quarter of an hour after, he returned, and as if
condemning his cowardice and faint-heartedness, again
prepared to do it ; when again held back by some
unseen hand, he departed. Had he carried out his
design, my fate was sealed, for it is not their custom
to grant life to captives thus mutilated. At length, late
at night, and last of all, I was taken to my captors,
without receiving a morsel of food, which I had scarcely
touched for several days. The rest of the night I spent
in great pain.
My sufferings, great in themselves, were heightened
by the sight of what a hke cruelty had wreaked on the
Christian Hurons, fiercer than all in the case of Eustace ;
for they had cut off both his thumbs, and, through the
stump of his left, with savage cruelty, they drove a
sharp stake to his very elbow. This frightful pain he
bore most nobly and piously.
The following day we fell in with some other war-
canoes, who cut off some of our companions' fingers,
amid our great dread.
At last, on the tenth day, about noon, we left our
canoes, and performed on foot, the rest of the journey,
which lasted four days. Besides the usual hardships of
the march, now came that of carrying the baggage.
[Although my share of this was done quite remissly,
both because I was unable, and because I disdained to
do it, for my spirit was haughty, even in fetters and
death ; so that only a small package was given me to
bear.] We were now racked by hunger, from the ever-
2

26 PERILSOFTHE
increasing want of food. Thus, three days in succession,
(and when, on the fourth, we were met by a party from
the village,) we tasted nothing but some berries, once
gathered on the way. [For my part, I had, in the
beginning of the march, neglected to avail myself of
the food which our canoes had supplied abundantly,
that I might not offer to their fire and torture, a strong
and vigorous frame, for I ingenuously confess my weak
ness ; and when my body worn down by fasting called
for food, it found nothing but water ; for, on the second
day, when we halted, weary with our march, they set
a large kettle on the fire as if to prepare food ; but it
was merely to enable us to drink as much as each chose
of the water thus slightly warmed.]
At last, on the eve of the Assumption * of the Blessed
Virgin, we reached the first village of the Iroquois. I
thank our Lord Jesus Christ, that, on the day when the
whole Christian world exults in the glory of his Mother's
Assumption into heaven, he called us to some small
share and fellowship of his sufferings and cross. In
deed, we had during the journey always foreseen that
it would be a sad and bitter day for us. It would have
been easy for Ren& and myself to escape that day and
the flames, for, being unbound and often at a distance
from our guards, we might, in the darkness of night,
have struck off from the road, and even though we
should never reach our countrymen, we would at least
meet a less cruel death in the woods. He constantly
refused to do this, and I was resolved to suffer all that
could befall me, rather than forsake, in death, French-
* F. Breasani and Alegambe say 18th, the MS. of 1652 says simply, Vigi-
lia Asaumptionis, whioh oan only be the 14th or 18th.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 27
men and Christian Hurons, depriving them of the
consolation which a priest can afford.
On the Eve of the Assumption then about 3 o'clock
we reached a river which flows by their village. Both
banks were filled with Iroquois and Hurons formerly cap
tured, now coming forth to meet us, the latter to salute
us by a warning that we were to be burnt alive ; the for
mer received us with clubs, fists and stones.
And as baldness or thin hair, a shaved, or lightly cov
ered head is an object of their aversion, this tempest burst
in its fury on my bare head. Two of my nails had hith
erto escaped ; these they tore out with their teeth, and
with their keen nails stripped off the flesh beneath to the
very bones. When satisfied with the cruelties and
mockeries which we thus received by the river side, they
led us to their village on the top of the hill.
At its entrance we met the youth of all that district'
awaiting us with clubs, in a line on each side of the road.
Conscious that, if we withdrew ourselves from the
ranks of those chastised, we no less withdrew ourselves
from that of the children, we cheerfully offered ourselves
to our God, thus like a father chastising us, that in us he
might be well pleased. Our order was as follows : in
the front of the line they placed a Frenchman, alas,
entirely naked, not having even his drawers. Rene
Goupil was in the centre, and I last of all closed the line,
(we were more fortunate as they had left us our shirts
and drawers.) The Iroquois scattered themselves
through our lines between us and the Hurons, both to
check our speed, and to afford more time and ease to our
torturers, to strike us thus separately as we passed.
Long and cruelly indeed did the " wicked work upon my

28 PERILS OF THE
back," (Ps. cxxviii. 3,) not with clubs merely, but even
with iron rods, which they have in abundance from their
proximity to the Europeans ; * one of the first, armed
with a ball of iron of the size of a fist, slung to a thong,
dealt me so violent a blow that I should have fallen
senseless, had not fear of a second given me strength
and courage. Running then our long race amid this
fearful hail of blows, we with difficulty reached the
stage erected in the centre of the village.
If each here presented a face to excite compassion,
that of Rene was certainly the most pitiable. Being by
no means quick or active, he had received so many
blows all over his body, but especially on his face, that
nothing could be distinguished there but the white of
his eyes ; more beautiful truly as he more resembled
him, whom we have beheld " as a leper, and smitten by
God for us," "in whom there was no comeliness or
beauty." — Isaias Iiii. 2.
We had but just time to gain breath on this stage,
when one with a huge club gave us Frenchmen three
terrible blows on the bare back ; the savages now took
out their knives and began to mount the stage and cut
off the fingers of many of the prisoners ; and, as a cap
tive undergoes their cruelty in proportion to his dignity,
they began with me, seeing, by my conduct, as well as
by their words, that I was in authority among the
French and Hurons. Accordingly, an old man and a
woman approached the spot where I stood ; he com
manded his companion to cut off my thumb ; she at first
* The Dutch, who then had two forts, where they kept a continual trade;
New Amsterdam, now New York, and Renssalaerwick, or Fort Orange, now
Albany, about ten or twelve leagues from the first village of the Mohawks.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 29
drew back, but at last, when ordered to do so three or four
times by the old wretch, as if by compulsion she cut off
my left thumb where it joins the hand. [ She was an
Algonquin, that is, one of that nation which dwells near
the French, in New France ; she had been captured a
few months before, and was a Christian. Her name
was Jane. Surely it is pleasing to suffer at the hands
of those for whom you would die, and for whom you
chose to suffer the greatest torment rather than leave
them exposed to the cruelty of visible and invisible ene
mies. ]
Then, taking in my other hand the amputated thumb,
I offered it to thee, my true and living God, calling to
mind the sacrifice which I had for seven years con
stantly offered thee in thy Church. At last, warned by
one of my comrades to desist, since they might other
wise force it into my mouth and compel me to eat it as
it was, I flung it from me on the scaffold and left it I
know not where.
Rene had his right thumb cut off at the first joint.
I must thank the Almighty that it was his will that my
right should be untouched, thus enabling me to write
this letter to beg my dear fathers and brothers to offer
up their masses, prayers, supplications and entreaties in
the holy church of God, to which we know that we are
now entitled by a new claim, for she often prays for the
afflicted and the captive.
On the following day, the Assumption of the Blessed
Virgin, after spending the morning on the stage, we
were taken about mid-day to another village, some two
miles distant from the first. As I was on the point of
marching, the Indian who had brought me, loth to lose
8"

80 PERILSOFTHE
my shirt, sent me off naked, except an old and wretched
pair of drawers. When I beheld myself thus stripped,
" Surely, brother," said I, " thou wilt not send me off thus
naked, thou hast taken enough of our property to
enrich thee." This touched him, and he gave me
enough of the hempen bagging in which our packages
had been put up, to cover my shoulders and part of my
body. But my shoulders, mangled by their blows and
stripes, could not bear this rough and coarse cloth. On
the way, while scarcely and at last not at all covered by
it, the heat of the sun was so intense, that my skin was
dried as though in an oven, and peeled off from my
back and arms.
As we entered the second village, blows were not
spared, though this is contrary to their usual custom,
which is to be content with once bastinadoing the pris
oners. The Almighty surely wished us to be somewhat
likened in this point to his apostle, who glories that he
was thrice beaten with rods ; and although they received
us with fewer blows than the last, their blows were the
more cruel, since, being less embarrassed by the crowd,
they were better aimed ; some striking constantly on the
shins to our exquisite pain.
The rest of the day we spent on the stage, and the
night in a hut tied down half naked to the bare ground,
at the mercy of all ages and sexes. For we had been
handed over to the sport of the children and youth who
threw hot coals on our naked bodies, which, bound as we
were, it was no easy matter to throw off. In this manner
they make their apprenticeship in cruelty, and from less,
grow accustomed to greater. We spent there two days
and nights with scarcely any food or sleep, in great an-

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 31
guish of mind as far as I was concerned. For, from time
to time, they mounted the stage, cutting off the fingers
of my Huron companions, binding hard cords around
their fists with such violence, that they fainted, and, while
each of them suffered but his own pain, I suffered that
of all ; I was afflicted with as intense grief as you can
imagine a father's heart to feel at the sight of his children's
misery ; for, with the exception of a few old Christians,
I had begotten them all recently in Christ by baptism.
Yet amid all this the Lord gave me such strength that,
suffering myself, I was able to console the suffering
Hurons and French. So that, both on the road and on
the stage, when the tormenting crowd of "saluters,"
(for so they call those who wreak their cruelty on the
captives as they arrive,) had dropped away, I exhorted
them, at one time generally, at another individually, to
preserve their patience, nor lose confidence which would
have a great reward ; to remember " that, by many
tribulations it behooves us to enter the kingdom of
heaven ; " that the time was come indeed, foretold to us
by God, when he said : " Ye shall lament and weep, but
the world shall rejoice, but your sorrow shall be turned
into joy ; " that we were like to a " a woman in travail,
who, when she brings forth, hath sorrow, because her
hour is come ; but, when she has brought forth, no lon
ger remembers her anguish for joy that a man is born
into the world ; " (John xvi. 21 ;) so should they feel
assured that, in a few days, these momentary pains would
give place to never-ending joys. And surely I had rea
son to rejoice when I beheld them so well disposed,
especially the older Christians, Joseph,* Eustace,f and
* Tondechoren. t Ahatsistari.

32 PERILSOFTHE
the other two ; for, on the very day that we reached the
first village, Theodore had freed himself from his bonds ;
but, as during the battle he had had his shoulder blade
broken by the but-end of a musket, he died on his way
to the French.
Never till now had the Indian scaffold beheld French
or other Christians captives. So that, contrary to usual
custom, we were led around through all their villages to
gratify the general curiosity. The third, indeed, we
entered scathless, but on the scaffold a scene met my
eyes more heart-rending than any torment ; it was a group
of four Hurons, taken elsewhere by some other party,
and dragged here to swell our wretched company.
Among other cruelties every one of these had lost some
fingers, and the eldest of the band his two thumbs.
Joining these, I at once began to instruct them, separate
ly, on the articles of faith ; then, on the very stage itself,
I baptized two, with rain-drops gathered from the leaves
of a stalk of Indian corn, given us to chew ; the other
two, I christened as we were led by a stream on our way
to another village. At this place, cold setting in after
the rain, we suffered extremely from it, as we were en
tirely uncovered. Often shivering with cold on the
stage, I would without orders come down and enter
some hut, but I had scarcely begun to warm myself
when I was commanded to return to the scaffold.
William Couture had thus far lost none of his fin
gers ; this, exciting the displeasure of an Indian in this
village, he sawed off the fore finger of his right hand in
the middle ; the pain was most excruciating as for this
amputation he employed not a knife, but in its stead a
kind of shell, there very abundant. As it could not cut

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 33
the sinews which were hard and slippery, he wrenched
the finger so violently, that, when the sinews gave way,
the poor fellow's arm swelled fearfully up to the very
elbow. An Indian, touched by mercy, took him to his
hut and kept him there two days which we spent in that
village ; leaving me in ignorance and great anxiety as±o
his fate.
At nightfall, we were taken to a hut where the youth
awaited us. They ordered us to sing as other captives
are wont to do ; we at last complied, for alas, what else
could we do ? but we sang the " Canticles of the Lord
in a strange land. " Torture followed the chanting, and
its fury burst especially on Rene and myself, for the good
savage still kept Wilham in his hut. Accordingly, on
me, and especially on Rene, they threw hot ashes and
hve coals, burning him terribly in the breast.
They next hung me up between two poles in the hut,
tied by the arms above the elbow with coarse rope woven
of the bark of trees. Then I thought I was to be burnt,
for this is one of their usual preliminaries. And that I
might know that, if I had thus far borne anything with
fortitude or even with patience, these came not from
myself, but from Him who gives strength to the weary ;
now, as though left to myself in this torture, I groaned
aloud, for " I will glory in my infirmities that the pow
er of Christ may dwell in me," (2 Cor. xii. 9,) and from
my intense pain, I begged my torturers to ease me some
little from those hard, rough ropes. But God justly
ordained that the more I pleaded, the more tightly they
drew my chains. At last when I had been hanging
thus about a quarter of an hour, they unloosed me as I
was on the point of fainting. I render thee thanks, 0

34 PERILS OF THE
Lord Jesus, that I have been allowed to learn, by some
slight experience, how much thou didst deign to suffer
on the cross for me, when the whole weight of thy most
sacred body hung not by ropes, but by thy hands and
feet pierced by hardest nails ! Other chains followed
these, for we were tied to the ground to pass the rest of
the night. What did they not then do to my poor
Huron companions thus tied hand and foot 1 What did
they not attempt on me ? But once more I thank thee,
Lord, that thou didst save me, thy priest, ever unsullied
from the impure hands of the savages. When we had
thus spent two days in that village, we were led back to
the second which we had entered, that our fate might
be finally determined.
We had now been for seven days led from village to
village, from scaffold to scaffold, become a spectacle to
God and to his angels, as we may hope from his divine
goodness ; a scoff and jeer to the vilest savages, when
we were at last told that that day should end our lives
amid the flames. Though, in sooth, this last act was not
without its horrors, yet the good pleasure of God and
the hope of a better life subject to no sin rendered it
more one of joy. Then, addressing my French and
Huron companions as it were for the last time, I bid
them be of good heart, amid their mental and bodily
sufferings to think " diligently upon him that had
endured such opposition of sinners against himself not
to be weary, fainting in their 'minds," ( Heb. xii. 3, )
but to hope that the morrow would unite us to our God
to reign forever.
Fearing lest we might be torn from one another, I
especially advised Eustace to look towards me when we

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 35
could not be together, and by placing his hands on his
breast and raising his eyes to heaven to show his contri
tion for his sins, so that I could absolve him, as I had
already frequently done after hearing his confession on
the way, and after our arrival. As advised, he several
times made the signal.
The sachems, however, on further deliberation,
resolved, that no precipitate step was to be taken with
regard to the French, and, when they had summoned us
before the council, they declared that our hves were
spared. To almost all the Hurons likewise they granted
their lives : three were excepted, Paul, Eustace and Ste
phen, who were put to death in the three villages which
make up the tribe ; Stephen in the village where we
were, known as Andagoron, Paul in Ossernenon, and
Eustace in Teonontogen. The last was burned in
almost every part of his body and then beheaded ; he
bore all most piously, and while it is usual for dying
captives to cry out :
" Exoriatur nostris ex ossibus ultor,"
" May an avenger arise from our ashes,"
he, on the contrary, in the Christian spirit which he had
so deeply imbibed in baptism, implored his countrymen
standing around, not to let any feeling for his fate pre
vent the concluding of a peace with the Iroquois. Paul
Ononhoratoon, who, after going through the usual fiery
ordeal was tomahawked in the village of Ossernenon,
was a young man of about twenty-five, full of life and
courage ; for such they generally put to death, to sap as
it were the life-blood of the hostile tribe. With a
noble contempt of death arising, as he openly professed

36 PERILSOFTHE
on the way, from his hope of a better life, this generous
man had repeatedly, when the Iroquois came up to me
to tear out my nails, or inflict some other injury, offered
himself to them, begging them to leave me and turn
their rage on him. May the Lord return him a hun
dred fold with usury for that heroic charity, which led
him to give his life for his friends, and for those who
had begotten him in Christ in bondage !
Towards evening of that day they carried off Wil
ham Couture, whom they regarded as a young man of
unparalleled courage, to Teonontogen, the farthest vil
lage of their territory, and gave him to an Indian fam
ily. It is the custom of these savages, when they spare
a prisoner's life, to adopt him into some family to supply
the place of a deceased member, to whose rights he in
a manner succeeds ; he is subject thenceforward to no
man's orders except those of the head of that family,
who, to acquire this right, offers some presents. But
seeing that Rene and I were less vigorous, they led us
to the first village, the residence of the party that had
captured us, and left us there till some new resolution
should be taken.
After so many a long day spent fasting, after so many
sleepless nights, after so many wounds and stripes, and
especially after such heart-rending anguish of mind,
when at last time was, so to speak, given us to feel our
sufferings, we sank into a state of helplessness, scarce able
to walk, or even stand erect : neither night nor day brought
a moment of repose ; this resulted from many causes,
but chiefly from our still untended wounds ; this state
was rendered more trying by the myriads of lice, fleas
and bedbugs, of which the maimed and mutilated state

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 37
of our fingers did not permit us to clear our persons.
Besides this, we suffered from hunger; more truly
here than elsewhere is the saying,
" Cibus non utilis oegro."
"Food is hurtful to the sick."
So that, with nothing to add to their American corn,
(which in Europe we call Turkish,) carelessly bruised
between two stones, but unripe squashes, we were
brought to the brink of the grave ; and Rene, especially,
whose stomach refused this food, and who, from his
many wounds, had almost lost his sight.
The Indians then, seeing us fail day by day, hunted
up in the village some small fishes and some bits of
meat dried by the fire and sun, and, pounding these,
mixed them with our sagamity.
After three weeks, we were just recovering from our
illness when they sought to put us to death.
The two hundred Indians who had maltreated us so
on the way, advanced into New France, to the point
where the River Iroquois, so called from them, empties
into the great river St. Lawrence ; here, seeing a party
of the French engaged in laying the foundations of
Fort Richelieu,* they thought they could easily kill
some and carry off the rest as prisoners. Accordingly,
to the number of two hundred, in a single column and
almost all armed with muskets, they rushed almost
unexpected upon the whites engaged in the various
* This fort was begun on the 13th of August, 1642, at the place now
ealled Sorel, and must not be confounded with the one built by Champlain
under that name in 1634, on the Isle of St. Croix, 15 leagues above Quebec,
and which soon disappeared.

38 PERILS OP THE
works. At the first onset of the foe, the French, though
but a handful compared to the number of the savages,
flew to arms, and so bravely and successfully repulsed
their fierce assailants, that, after killing two, and wound
ing many more, they put the rest to flight. The war
party returned furious, and, as though they had been
greatly wronged who had gone forth to do wrong,
demanded the death of those of us who were yet alive.
They asserted it to be a shame that three Frenchmen
should live quietly among them when they had so lately
slain three Iroquois. By these complaints, Rene's
safety, especially, and my own, were in great jeopardy.
He alone, who, as he gave, protecteth life, warded off
the blow.
On the eve of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, one
of the principal Hollanders, who have a settlement not
more than twenty leagues* from these Indians, came
with two others,f to endeavor to effect our liberation.
He remained there several days, offered much, promised
more, obtained nothing. But, as they are a wily and
cunning race of savages, in order not to appear to refuse
all that a friend asked, but to concede something to his
desires, they lyingly asserted that they would, in a few
days, restore us to our countrymen. This was, perhaps,
the wish of some of them, but, in the latter part of Sep
tember; (for constant rain had put the matter off till
that time,) a final council was held on our fate, although
* We leave this, although we cannot reconcile it with distances elsewhere
given. t These were Arends Van Curler, Jacob Jansen, and John Labadie. Van
Curler, the Corlear of history, then commanding the post, generously offered
260 piastres as a ransom for the French.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 39
provisions had been prepared and men appointed to
take us back. Here the opinion of the few well inclined
was rejected. Confusion carried the day, and some
clamorous chiefs declared that they would never suffer
a Frenchman to be taken back alive. The council broke
up in alarm, and each, as if in flight, returned home,
even those who came from other villages. Left thus to
the cruelty of bloodthirsty men, attempts were constantly
made on our hves. Some, tomahawk in hand, prowled
around the cabins to find and despatch us. However,
towards the close of the council, God had inspired me
with some thought that induced me to draw my com
panions together without the village in a field belong
ing to the house where I was ; here, ignorant of what
had transpired, we lay hid as it were in safety, until the
storm, beneath which we should all have fallen, had we
remained in the village, was somewhat calmed.
Wilham was, after this, taken back by his master, to
his own village ; Rene and I, perceiving that there was
now no hope of our return, withdrew to a neighboring
hill, which commands the village, in order to pray.
Here, remote from every witness, and from all officious
intrusion, we resigned ourselves entirely to God and to
his holy will ; on our road back to the village, we were
reciting our beads, and had already completed four
decades of the rosary, when we met two young men
who commanded us to return to the village. " Dear
brother," said I, "we know not what may be, in
this period of general excitement, the design of these
men. Let us commend ourselves earnestly to God,
and to the most Blessed Virgin, our good Mother."
We had reached the village in prayer, when, at its

40 PERILSOFTHE
very entrance, one of the two whom we had met, pluck
ing forth his tomahawk which was concealed in his
dress, dealt Rene so deadly a blow on the head, that
he fell lifeless, invoking the most holy name of Jesus
as he fell. We had happily, mindful of the indul
gence thereby gained, often reminded each other to
close our life by uttering, with our dying voice, that
most holy name.
At the sight of the reeking hatchet, I knelt down
on the spot, and, uncovering my head, awaited a hke
blow. But, when I had been there a moment or two,
they bade me rise, as they had no right to kill me, for I
was the slave of another family. Rising then in haste,
I ran to my still breathing companion, and conferred
absolution, which I was in the habit of giving him
after his confession every other day ; then two other
blows, dealt before my very face, added him to the
number of the blessed. He was thirty-five years of
age, eminent for his simplicity of manners, his inno
cence of life, his patience in adversity, entirely sub
missive to God, whom he, in all things, regarded as
present before his eyes, and resigned to his most holy
will in love. Most worthy is he, Reverend Father,
to be counted among thy children, not only because
he had spent several months in one of the novitiates
of the Society, in a most edifying manner, and had
afterwards, by the command of Superiors, to whom he
gave the entire disposal of his life, proceeded to Huro-
nia, to aid the Christian population by his medical
knowledge, but especially does he merit it from the fact,
that, a few days before his death, impelled by a desire
of uniting himself more closely to God, he pronounced

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 41
the usual vows of the Society to subject himself to it
as far as in him lay. And certain it is that, in hfe as
in death, where his last word was the most holy name
of Jesus, he had proved himself no unworthy son of the
Society. Nay, I not only love him as a brother, but
revere him as a martyr — martyr to obedience, and still
more, a martyr to the faith and to the cross. As he was
very pious, and accustomed to be with the Christians,
or such as were most intimate with our Christians, he
daily spent a long time in prayer, to the wonder and
even suspicion of the savages, so novel did it seem to
them. These suspicions were confirmed in their minds
when one day, taking off the cap of a child in the hut
where he hved, he made him make a sign of the cross
on his breast and forehead; for a superstitious old
Indian, the grandfather of the boy, seeing this, ordered
him to be killed. This I afterwards learned from the
boy's mother, who told me that he had been killed
by the old man for that reason.
But to resume my narrative : after I had been seated
a little while in our hut, where my hfe had been pretty
quiet, I was taken to another, the hut of him who had
cut off my thumb, a most bitter enemy of the Algon-
quins, and consequently of the French. Here, not I
alone, but the other Iroquois, every moment expected
to see me tomahawked. Accordingly, some who had
given me articles of clothing, that I might, in part at
least, cover my person, now asked them back, for fear
of losing them by my death.
The next day, I was filled with the greatest anxiety
to know what had become of my dear companion, that
I resolved to look for his body at all hazards, and com-
4*

42 PERILSOFTHE
mit it, if possible, to the earth. After stripping it
entirely, they had contemptuously tied a rope around
the neck, and dragging it through the village, had flung
it into a ravine at a considerable distance. As I was
going out of the village, I met the old man in whose
hut I had formerly been ; he advised me to stay at
home. " Whither art thou hurrying ?" he exclaimed,
" thou art scarce alive ; they seek thee everywhere to
slay thee, and yet thou g'oest to find an already putrefy
ing corpse ; dost thou not see those fierce young braves,
who are about to kill thee ? " Some, in fact, went out
of the village armed, just before me ; but I fearlessly
pursued my way ; for, in my bitter anguish, it was a
pain to live, a gain to die in such a work of charity.
When the old man saw me so resolute, he asked an
other Indian to go with me. By his assistance, I found
the body, which the dogs had begun to gnaw about the
hips, and, sinking it in the deepest part of the torrent,
covered it with a heap of stones, intending to return
the next day with a spade, and bury it secretly and
alone, for I was afraid they would disinter it.
As I re-entered our hut, two young men were waiting
to take me to their village to put me to death. Aware
of their design, I told them that I was in the hands of
those with whom I lived, that if they gave the slightest
consent, I would accompany them, and would in fact
have done so. Seeing that they gained nothing in this
way, the next day one of them who, at the time of our
capture, had been wounded with his brother, seeing me
in the field whither I had gone to execute some order
of my owners, seized a hatchet and was rushing on me
to kill me, when he was stopped by an old man of our

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 43
family, and prevented from accomplishing his design.
Thus did the Almighty teach me " to cast all my solici
tude on him," knowing that he hath care of me, and that
I should not fear the face of a man when the Almighty
was the protector of my life, without whose permission
not a hair could fall from my head.
As I could not that day accomplish my design, early
the next morning I proceeded to the spot with a spade
or hoe to inter the body, but alas, they had carried off
my brother. I returned to the spot ; I descended the
mount at the foot of which the torrent ran ; I descended
again ; I searched the wood on the opposite side, — all,
all in vain. The torrent ran swollen by the night rains,
but, unrestrained by either its depth or the cold, for it
was the first of October, I tried the bottom with my
stick and feet, as I thought that the stream might have
borne it to another spot ; I asked all whom I met,
whether they knew anything of him ; but as they are a
most lying race, and always give an affirmative answer
without regard to truth, they falsely told me that he had
been dragged to a quite distant river.* What groans did
I not utter then ! What tears did I not shed, mingling
them with the waters of that mountain stream, chanting
to thee, my God, the psalms thy holy Church employs
in the service of the dead !
When, however, the snows had melted away, I heard
from the young men that they had seen the scattered
bones of the Frenchman. Hurrying to the spot, I gath
ered up the half-gnawed bones, the remnants left by the
* This river was evidently the Mohawk, and the town Andagoron lay near
a stream running into it. Andagoron or Gandagoron, was afterwards called
Gandawague, now written Caughnawaga.

44 PERILSOFTHE
dogs, the foxes and the crows, and especially the skull
fractured in many places ; these reverently kissing, I
committed to the earth, that I might, one day, if such
were God's will, bear with me as a great treasure to a
consecrated Christian land.
From many other dangers, which I knew and knew
not, did the Lord rescue me, in spite of all the ill will
and hate of the Iroquois, unwilling and furious as the
Iroquois were. But the following I should not omit.
There was in our cabin an idiot who asked me to let him
cut off two hands' breadth from a wretched bit of cloth
not seven palms long, yet all that I had to cover me.
Brother ! said I, you see me shivering every night under
this short thin covering ; yet do as thou wilt. My
modest excuse offended him, and when soon after I went
to the huts of the baptized Hurons, whom I daily
instucted and bore again till Christ should be formed in
them, (Gal. iv. 19,) he came in search of me, and fiercely
bade me return. When I had entered our cabin, Rene's
murderer was sent for, that the same hand might end
both our lives ; they looked for him in vain, he could
not be found. I was accordingly sent the next day into
a field of my master's with two women, under the pretext
of bringing back some article or other, but in fact to
expose me to death ; for, two days before, the only son
of one of their noble women had died in our cabin, and
I was to be sacrificed to his manes.
These women had with them the squashes, corn and
other articles of the kind which were to be the fee of my
executioner. " But I, like a deaf man, heard not " the
vain things they devised, " and hke a dumb man opened
not my mouth, and I became like a man that heareth not,

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 45
nor hath a reply in his mouth, " (Ps. xxxvii. 14,)
"because in thee, O Lord, have I hoped ; " but, mindful
of his meekness " who was led like a lamb to the slaugh
ter, " (Acts vin. 32,) I went to my death, begging the
Lord with David " to turn away evil from my enemies
and scatter them in his truth." — Ps. Iiii. 7. About
midway we met the looked-for murderer ; seeing him
coming at a distance, I commended myself for the last
time to God, begging him to receive my life spent with
care and anguish ; but my sins still rendered me unwor
thy. He passed quietly by us, and meeting his mother,
she addressed some words, of what import I know not,
to those who conducted me ; on this, trembling and flee
ing as it were, they left me in the road, for they saw
that I was aware of their design.
Amid this frequent fear and death, while every day I
die, or rather drag on a life more bitter than any death,
two months glided away. During this time I made no
effort to learn their language, for why should I, who
every moment expected to die ? The village was a prison
for me. I avoided being seen. I loved the wild wood,
where I begged the Lord not to disdain to speak to his
servant, to give me strength in such fearful trials, in
which, indeed, if I have become a prodigy to many, God
was my stout Helper, and often by his unfailing goodness
roused my drooping spirits. I had recourse to the Holy
Scriptures, my only refuge in the tribulations, which
had found me exceedingly : these did I venerate ; with
these I wished to die. Of all the books which we were
carrying to Huronia for the use of the Frenchmen living
there, none had fallen into my hands but the Epistle of
St. Paul to the Hebrews, with the paraphrase of the Rt.

46 PERILS OF THE
Rev. Anthony Godeau, Bishop of Gratz. This little
book, with a picture of St. Bruno, the illustrious founder
of the Carthusian Order, to which some indulgences were
attached, and a rude wooden cross which I had made, I
always carried about me, so that, whenever death, which
I had ever present before my eyes, should strike me
down, I could most cheerfully die with the Holy Scrip
tures which had ever been my greatest consolation, with
the graces and indulgences of my most holy Mother the
Church, whom I had always greatly, but now most ten
derly, loved, and with the cross of my Lord and Savior.
And now the middle of October was come when the
Indians leave their villages to go and hunt deer, which
they take by traps, or kill with their guns, in the use of
which they are very skilful. This season, to the Indians
one of relaxation and enjoyment, brought its new burden
of sorrows for me ; for I was given to a party, who were
first amazed at me, then ridiculed, and at last began to
hate me.
Mindful of the character imposed upon me by God,
I began with modesty to discourse with them of the
adoration of one only God, of the observance of his com
mandments, of heaven, hell, and the other mysteries of
our Faith, as fully as I was able. At first, indeed, they
listened, but when they saw me constantly recur to these
things, and especially when the chase did not meet with
the desired success, then they declared that I was an
Otkon,* who caused them to take so httle game. But
what turned their ill-will into perfect rage and fury, so
to speak, was this : It is a custom with all these nations
to have recourse, in their hunting, fishing, war, sickness,
* Demon.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 47
and the like, to a certain demon whom they call Aireskoi.
Whoever desires his fishing, hunting, or other expe
ditions to be successful, takes meat, and other of the
better articles of food, and begs' the oldest of the house
or village to bless them for him, if I may use the term ;
and there are some to whose blessings they attach more
value than to others. The old man, standing opposite
the one that holds the meat, in a loud and distinct voice,
speaks thus : " O, demon Aireskoi, behold, we offer this
meat to thee, and from it we prepare thee a banquet,
that thou mayest eat thereof, and show us where the
deer are lurking, mayest lead them into our traps ; " —
(if not during the chase) — " that by thee we may again
behold the spring, taste the new harvest, and again
engage in the chase in the fall ; " — (if in illness) —
" that by these we may recover health."
The very first time I heard a formula couched in such
words, I was filled with a deep detestation of this sav
age superstition, and firmly resolved to abstain forever
from meats thus offered. They interpreted this absti
nence on my part, and this contempt of their demon, as
the cause of their ^taking so little game ; " the wicked
have hated me without cause." — John xv. 25. As,
under the influence of this hate, they would neither
listen to my instructions, nor help me to acquire their
language, in which I refuted their fables, I resolved to
devote my time entirely to spiritual exercises. Accord
ingly, I went forth every morning from the midst of
this Babylon, that is, our hut where constant worship
was paid to the devil and to dreams, and " saved myself
in the mountain," (Genesis xix. 17,) a neighboring hill.
Here I had formed a large cross on a majestic tree by

48 PERILSOFTHE
stripping off the bark, and, at its foot, I spent the whole
day with my God, whom, almost alone in those vast
regions, I worshipped and loved ; sometimes in medi
tation or in prayer, at other times reading an " Imita
tion of Christ," which I had just before recovered. This
for some time was unperceived ; but, on one occasion,
finding me, as was my wont, in prayer before my cross,
they attacked me most violently, saying that they hated
the cross ; that it was a sign that they and their friends
the neighbors, (Europeans,) knew not, alluding to the
Dutch Protestants.
Upon this, I changed my conduct, and whereas I had
before carefully avoided praying or kneeling in their
hut, that I might not give them the slightest reason to
complain, (for we should, especially among savages,
but little accustomed to such things, act in all prudence,)
I now conceived that I should no longer refrain from
those pious exercises which make up a spiritual life, a
life I far preferred to my temporal one. This I be
lieved would be serviceable to them. when the moment
of their conversion should come, " which the Father
hath put in his own power." — Acts i. 7.
While thus an object of their enmity, I certainly suf
fered much from hunger and cold, the contempt of the
lowest of the men, the bitter hatred of their women.
The latter, who are the greatest gainers by the hunt
ing season, regarded me as the cause of their want and
poverty. 1 suffered most from hunger ; for, as almost
all the venison on which they chiefly hved had been
offered to the devil in these oblations, I spent many days
fasting ; and, almost every night, when I came in fast
ing, I would see our Egyptians sitting over their flesh-

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 49
pots, which my severe, though self-imposed law, pre
vented my touching. And, although reasons occurred
to me, at times dissuading me from this course, yet, by
God's grace,. I never suffered myself to break my reso
lution, but, in hunger said to my God: " We shall be
filled with the good things of thy house." — Psalms lxiv.
5. " I shall be satisfied when thy glory shall appear."
— lb. xvi. 15. " When thou wilt truly fill the desire
of thy hungry servants in thy holy city, Jerusalem,
which thou wilt fill forever with the fat of corn."
— lb. cxlvii. 14.
I suffered also greatly from cold, amid the deep
snows under my scanty, worn-out cloak, especially at
night, when ordered to sleep uncovered on the bare
ground on some rough* bark ; for, though they had
plenty of deerskins, perfectly useless to them, not one
was given to me ; nay, when sometimes on a very bit
ter night, I would, overcome by the cold, secretly take
one, they rose at once and pulled it from me ; so great
was their enmity against me. My skin was now in
such a state that I could with David say : " It had with
ered with the filth of dust." — Job vii. 5. It burst with
cold, and gave me great pain all over my body. But
when inward afflictions came crowding on these outward
cares, then indeed my grief became intolerable. I
remembered that I had been recently covered with the
life's blood of my dearest companion ; and those who
came from William's village told me he had already
been put to death with exquisite tortures, and that I
myself, on my return, was to meet the same fate. With
this came up the remembrance of my past life, stained
with so many sins, and so unfaithful to God, and I

50 PERILS OF THE
grieved that I was thus to be torn away unaided by any
of the sacraments in the very midst of my course, re
jected as it were by God, with no good works sent on
to plead my cause. In this state, loathing life, yet
shrinking from death, I uttered many a mournful cry,
and said unto my God : " When shall sorrows and mis
eries have an end ? How long wilt thou forget our
want and our tribulation ? When, after this tempest,
wilt thou give us calm, and, after weeping, joy and
exultation ? And, had not those days been shortened,
my flesh had not been saved." — Mark xiii. 20.
I had recourse to my wonted refuge of the Scriptures,
my usual retreat, and passages which my memory had
retained taught me how I should think of God in good
ness, even though not upheld by sensible devotion;
that I should know that the just man Hves by faith.
I searched them ; I followed their stream, and sought,
as it were, to quench my daily thirst. " I meditated
on the law of God night and day." — Psalms i. 2 ;
and, "had not the law of God been my meditation,
I had then, perhaps, perished in my abjection." —
Psalms cviii. 92. " And my soul had passed through
a water unsupportable." — Psalms cxxiii. 5. " But,
blessed be God, who did not give us a prey to the.
teeth of our enemies." — Psalms cxxii. 6. " Whose
hour had come and the power of darkness." — Luke
xxii. 53. In which we " were overmuch oppressed."
— 2 Cor. i. 8. So that I was weary of Hfe, and could
say with Job, though in a different meaning, " Al
though he should kill me, I will trust in him." —
Job. xiii. 15.
Thus passed two months away in this retreat, where,

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 51
like St. Bernard, the disciple of the trees of the for
est, I thought of naught but God, until become an
object too hateful to all to be any longer borne with,
I was sent back to the village before the usual time.
During the way, which took us eight days, " I was
become like a beast of burden before God," (Psalms
lxxii. 23,) under the heavy load of venison which I
carried ; and, being ignorant what fate might await
me at the village, endeavored to be ever united with him,
for a party that had gone before had spread many
reports about me. My sufferings in this journey, from
the intense cold, were extreme ; for I was nearly naked,
and we generally passed the night in the open air.
My unhealed fingers were another source of mis
ery ; for the wounds were hardly closed by the mid
dle of January. In the village, however, a thin skin
was added to my worn out cloak ; in this wretched
guise I traversed the streets of our village, begging
that the Lord would one day join me with his saints
who formerly served him in " sheepskins and goat
skins, distressed, afflicted, of whom the world was not
worthy." — Hebrews xi. 37. And I daily saw the In
dians well dressed in the cloth and garments which
our baggage had plentifully supphed, while I was
shivering night and day with cold; but this was lit
tle ; more was I moved to see these heathen men
unworthily profane things dedicated to the service of
God. One of them had made himself leggings of two
of the veils used at mass : " Non hos servatum munus

* An object not destined to such a use. — Aen. iv. 64.

52 PERILS OF THE
I can in truth say, before God, of all that period up
to mid-January, " Even unto this hour, we both hun
ger and thirst, and are naked and are buffeted, and have
no fixed abode. And we labor, working with our
hands ; we are reviled, and we bless ; we are persecuted,
and we suffer it ; we are ill-spoken of and we entreat ;
we are made as the refuse of this world, the off-scour
ing of all even until now." — 1 Cor. iv. 11.
When, in the middle of January, my owners returned
from the chase, they, in a manner, dressed me in skins,
until a Lorrainese who lived among our Dutch neigh
bors, hearing that I suffered greatly from cold, sent me
from his house, a dress, such as they usually sell to the
Indians. This brought some shght alleviation to my
pains, but I found still greater in the care of an old
woman, whose only son had died not long before.
She was of very noble rank in the nation, for barbarism,
too, has its nobles ; she took care of me, and the Lord
gave me grace in her eyes, yet all this was but a shght
solace in such woe.
When I saw that my Hfe was at last in some sort
spared, I applied myself to the study of the language,
and, as our cabin was the council hall, not only of the
village, but of almost all that country, I began to in
struct the oldest on the articles of our faith. They,
too, put me many questions, as to the sun, and moon,
the face, which seemed to appear on his disk, of the
circumference of the earth, of the size of the ocean, its
tides, whether, as they had heard, the heavens and the
earth anywhere met each other ; adapting my philoso
phy to their reach, I satisfied them on all these ; then,
indeed, they began to wonder, and say, " Indeed, we

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 53
should have lost a great treasure, had we put this
man to death, as we have been so often on the point of
doing." Then I endeavored to raise their minds from
creatures, to a knowledge of the Creator ; I confuted
their old wives' tales of the creation of the world,
which their fable makes out to have been created by a
tortoise ; the sun was, I showed them, not only without
an intellect, but even a lifeless mass, much less a God ;
" that if, delighted by its appearance, they beheved it to
be a God, they should know that the Lord was much
more more beautiful than it ; " that Aireskoi, whom
they falsely asserted to be the Author and Preserver of
Hfe, and the Giver of all the good things which they
enjoyed, was not a God but a demon. Were they as
easy in belief as they are easy to be convinced, the
matter would soon .be settled. But the prince of the
world expelled from almost every quarter of the globe,
by the power of the cross, seems to have retreated into
these regions, as his last stronghold ; so that the king
dom which this strong man armed has possessed here
for so many thousand years, can be overthrown only in
lapse of time, and by unconquerable constancy on the
part of the soldiers of Christ. From time to time, how
ever, Christ, their true Lord and Lord of all, chooses
some for himself, not only among the infants, many of
whom are now in heaven, but even among adults, some
of whom I baptized in sickness or in bondage.
Many other native adults I instructed, but some
refused to Hsten to me, others rejected me, others
assented with their lips, merely from a kind of polite-
nes which makes them consider it rude to contradict
you ; and without attention to which, many would be
5»

54 PERILSOFTHE
deceived. I sometimes even made excursions to the
neighboring villages, to console and instruct the Chris
tian Hurons, "who had not bent their knee before
Baal," and to absolve them after hearing their confes
sions ; to announce God everywhere as far as I was able, to
succor the dying, but especially to save infants in danger
of death. This was my only solace in my bitterest
mental pangs ; and once, with this view, I visited a
neighboring village, and there baptized five children ;
I learnt, soon after, in another excursion, that all had
been called to heaven.
In these and Hke exercises, therefore, and attempts
to study their language, (for what study can there be
without writing ?) two months ghded by. About the
middle of March, when the snow had melted away,
they took me with them to their fishing ground. We
accordingly started ; the party consisted of the old man
and woman, a little boy and myself; four days' travel
brought us to a lake where we caught nothing but a
few little fishes.
The intestines of these generally served as a season
ing for our sagamity, the fish being laid by to carry
back to the village.
Such food as this, with the intestines of deer full of
blood, and half putrefied excrement, and mushrooms
boiled, and rotten oysters, and frogs, which they eat
whole, head and feet, not even skinned or cleaned ;
such food, had hunger, custom, and want of better,
made, I will not say tolerable, but even pleasing. How
often, in those journeys, and in that quiet wilderness,
" did we sit by the rivers of Babylon, and weep, while
we remembered thee, Sion," not only exulting in heaven,

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 55
but even praising thy God on earth! "How often,
though in a strange land, did we sing the canticle of
the Lord ; " and mountain and wildwood resound with
the praises of their Maker, which from their creation
they had never heard! How often, on the stately
trees of the forest, did I carve the most sacred name
of Jesus, that, seeing it, the demons might fly, who
tremble when they hear it ! How often on them too,
did I not strip off the bark, to form the most holy Cross
of the Lord, that the foe might fly before it, and that
by it, thou, O Lord, my king, "mightst reign in the
midst of thy enemies," the enemies of thy cross, the
misbelievers and the pagans who dwell in that land,
and the demons who rule so powerfully there ! I rejoice,
too, that I had been led by the Lord into the wilder
ness, at the very time when the church recalls the story
of his Passion, so that I might more uninterruptedly
remember the course of its bitterness and gall, and my
soul might pine away at the remembrance. — Jer. iii. 20.
Accordingly, after performing the services which 1
owed as a slave to my masters, the slave of savages,
(my occupation being to cut and bring in wood for the
hut,) 1 spent almost aU my time before a large cross
which I had formed on a huge tree at a considerable
distance from the hut. But I was not long allowed to
enjoy this holy repose ; indeed, too many days had I
passed, unharmed by my wonted terrors. On Monday,
in Holy Week, an Indian came to us from our village ;
the reason of his coming was this. Ten Iroquois,
among whom was the son of the man who had cut off
my thumb, and in whose hut I now dwelt, had gone
out on a war-party about mid-summer. (Summer, fall,

56 PERILSOFTHE
and even the whole winter, passed without their being
heard of,) they were consequently given up, especially
as neighboring nations said that they had fallen victims
to the cruelty of the enemy. But when, early in the
spring, a captive was brought in during our absence,
who, being also questioned as to them, gave the same
answer, and said that they had been killed; then, indeed,
deeming beyond a doubt, what they already believed to
be true, they sacrificed that very captive to the manes of
the young brave, the son of my master.
But the soul of this captive seemed too vile to atone
for the life of the noble youth. I was accordingly sent
for, from the lake where we were, that, together with
him, I might compensate for the death of the chief. Such,
at least, was the conclusion to which one or two old
women and a decrepit old man had come. We con
sequently set out the next day, as if in flight, and, as a
pretext, they said that parties of the enemy were around
us. We reached the village towards evening, on Maun
dy Thursday. The morrow, which had closed the
Savior's life, was now to close mine also ! when it pleased
him, who, by dying on that day, had given life to my
spirit, to give it also to my body. Accordingly, on that
day when I was to have been put to death, a rumor was
first spread without any good authority, that those sup
posed to be dead were still alive ; then it came that
they had joined another war party, and were now bring
ing in twenty-two captives.
Thus did God scatter the malignant designs of the
savages, instructing and showing me that he took care
of me, that I should cast myself wholly on him, conscious
that he would not recoil and let me fall.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 57
Although I naturally rejoiced to be rescued from
these and other dangers, yet I sighed to see myself
again given over to new sorrows and heart-breaking
torments, compelled me to drag on a life more painful
than the most cruel death. For the success, as well as
the reverses of these men, fell heavily on me alone ; if
any one was slain in battle, I was at once demanded as
a victim to be offered to his shade. But'if, as was gen
erally the case, they brought in prisoners after having
killed more, my heart was always rent with grief, for
they were either Frenchmen or allies of the French.
Naturally, therefore, did I prefer retirement and sol
itude, where, far from the villages, I was no longer
dismayed at the wonted cruelty of these savages, and
where I could better and more freely hold converse
with God. Yet knowing, that, though Lia was blear-
eyed, she was more fruitful than Rachel, and bore more
children ; mindful, too, of the Institute of our Society,
wliich prefers our neighbor's salvation to our private
spiritual deHghts, I reluctantly remained at home ; for
the village enabled me to make greater progress in the
language, and to secure the salvation of infants and
adults by baptism ; for I was greatly grieved whenever,
during my absence, an adult died without instruction or
a child without baptism.
To return to our war party : they came in bringing
twenty-two prisoners, but belonging to a nation with
whom they had as yet never been at war ; still, in viola
tion of all right and justjce, they were beaten with
clubs and stripes, and mutilated by the usual cutting off
of fingers. Five of them were to be put to death, for
all the rest, being boys and girls, or women, were kept

58 PERILSOFTHE
as slaves. Their instruction was now an object of my
sohcitude, for I was ignorant of their language ; yet by
God's grace I was able, by a few words that I picked
up, but chiefly by the kindness of one who knew both
languages, to instruct and baptize them. This happened
at Easter. At Whitsuntide, they brought in new pris
oners, three women with their httle children, the men
having been killed near the French settlements. They
were led into the village entirely naked, not even with
any kind of petticoat on; and, after being severely
beaten on the way, had their thumbs cut off. One of
them, a thing not hitherto done, was burnt aU over her
body, and afterwards thrown into a huge pyre. And
worthy of note is a strange rite I then beheld, when
this woman was burnt ; at each wound which they in
flicted, by holding lighted torches to her body, an old
man in a loud voice exclaimed, " Demon Aireskoi, we
offer thee this victim, whom we burn for thee, that thou
mayst be filled with her flesh, and render us ever anew
victorious over our enemies." Her body was cut up,
sent to the various villages and devoured; for about
mid-winter, grieving as it were, that they had refrained
from eating the flesh of some prisoners, they had in a
solemn sacrifice of two bears, which they offered to
their demon, uttered the words, " Justly dost thou
punish us, oh, Demon Aireskoi ; lo ! this long time we
have taken no captives ; during the summer and fall,
we have taken none of the Algonquins. (These they
consider properly their enemies.) We have sinned
against thee, in that we ate not the last captives thrown
into our hands ; but, if we shall ever again capture any,
we promise thee to devour them as we now consume

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 59
these two bears ; " and they kept their word. This poor
woman I baptized in the midst of the flames, unable to
do so before, and then only while raising a drink to her
parched lips.
On the eve of St. John the Baptist, of whom it is
written " that many shall rejoice at his birth," a new
weight was added to my usual sorrows ; eleven Hurons
and a Frenchman were brought in ; three Frenchmen
and ten Hurons, among them some of the most celebrated
Christians, had been killed, treacherously circumvented
by a show of friendship. Of these, they bore the scalps
or hair, which they tear off with the skin, from their
fallen enemies. I certainly felt, in my own person, this
punishment deserved by my sins, and pronounced of
old by God to his people, when he said " that their new
moons, their festivals, and solemnities should be turned
into grief and sorrow," as Easter and Whitsuntide, and
the nativity of St. John the Baptist, each brought sor
rows on me, to be afterwards increased to agony by the
slaughter of a hundred Hurons, most of whom, racked
by fearful torments, were burnt to death in the neigh
boring cantons. " Wo is me, wherefore was I born to
see the ruin of my people." — 1 Mach. ii. 7.
Verily, in these, and like heart-rending cares, "my
life is wasted with grief, and my years with sighs ; "
(Ps. xxx. 2,) "for the Lord hath corrected me for mine
iniquity, and hath made my soul waste away as a spi
der." — xxxviii. 12. " He hath filled me with my
bitterness, he hath inebriated me with wormwood,
(Lament, iii. 15,) because the comforter, the relief of
my soul, is far from me," (i. 16.) " but, in all these
things, we overcome," and by the favor of God will

60 PERILSOFTHE
overcome, " because of him that hath loved us," (Rom.
vhi. 37,) until " he come that is to come and will not
delay (Heb. x. 37,) until my day like that of a hireling
come, (Job vii. 1,) or my change be made." — xiv. 14.
Although I could, in all probability, escape either
through the Europeans or the savage nations around us,
did I wish to fly, yet on this cross, to which our Lord
has nailed me beside himself, am I resolved by his grace
to live and die. For who in my absence would console
the French captives ? who absolve the penitent 1 who
remind the christened Huron of his duties ? who in
struct the prisoners to be brought in from time to time ?
who baptize the dying, encourage them in their tor
ments ? who cleanse the infants with the saving wa
ters ? who provide for the safety of the dying adults,
the instruction of those in health ? And indeed I can
not but think it a peculiar interposition of divine good
ness, that while on one side a nation fallen from the
true Catholic religion barred the entrance of the faith to
these regions, and on the other a fierce war between sav
age nations, and on their account with the French did
the same, I should have fallen into the hands of these
Indians, who, by the will of God, reluctantly, and, I may
say, against their will, have, thus far, spared my life, that
through me, though unworthy, those might be instruct
ed, believe and be baptized, who are predestined to
eternal life. Since the time when I was taken, I have
baptized seventy, children, young and old, of five differ
ent nations and languages, that of every tribe, and peo
ple, and tongue, they might stand in the sight of the
Lamb. — Apoc. vii. 9.
Therefore do I daily bow my knees to the Lord and

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 61
to the Father of my Lord, that, if it be for his glory, he
may confound all the designs of the Europeans and
savages, for ransoming me or sending me back to the
whites. For many of the Indians speak of my being
restored, and the Dutch, among whom I write this,
Have frequently offered, and now again offer, to rescue
me and my companions. I have twice visited them and
been most kindly welcomed ; they leave no stone un
turned to effect our deliverance ; and have made many
presents to the Indians with whom I am, to induce
them to treat me humanely.
But I am now weary of so long and so prolix a letter ; I
therefore earnestly beg your reverence, ever to recognize
me, though unworthy, as one of yours ; for, though a
savage in dress and manner, and almost without God in
so tossed a life, yet, as I have ever lived a son of the
most holy Church of Rome, and of the Society, so do I
wish to die. Obtain for me from God, Reverend Fa
ther, by your holy sacrifices, that although I have hith
erto but ill employed the means he gave me to attain
the highest sanctity, I may at least employ well this last
occasion which he offers me. Your bounty owes this
surely to your son who has recourse to you, for I lead
a truly wretched life, where every virtue is in danger.
Faith in the dense darkness of paganism ; hope in so
long and hard trials ; charity amid so much corruption,
deprived of all the Sacraments. Purity is not indeed
here endangered by dehghts, yet it is amid this promis
cuous and intimate intercourse of both sexes ; in the
perfect liberty of each to hear and do what he pleases,
and most of all in their constant nakedness. For here,
willing or not, you must often see what elsewhere is

62 PERILS OF THE
shut out, not only from wandering, but even from curi
ous eyes. Hence I daily groan to my God, begging
him not to leave me without help amid the dead ; beg
ging him, I say, that amid so much impurity and such
superstitious worship of the devil to which he has ex
posed me, naked as it were, and unarmed, " my heart
may be undefiled in his justifications," (Ps. cxviii. 80,)
so that, when that good Shepherd shall come, " who will
gather together the dispersed of Israel," (Ps. cxlvi. 2,)
he may gather us from among the nations to bless his
holy name. Amen ! Amen ! — Ps. cv. 47.
Your Reverence's
Most humble servant and son in Christ,
Isaac Jogues.
Permit me, through your Reverence, to salute all my
dear Fathers and Brothers, whom I tenderly love and
cherish in Christ, and to commend myself to their Holy
Sacrifices and Prayers.
Your most humble servant and son in Christ,
Isaac Jogues.
Renssalaerswyck in New Nertherland,
August 5, 1643.
This letter was written, as we shall see by the next,
after the holy missionary had left the Mohawk villages
for the last time, unconscious as he was while penning
it at Renssalaerswyck, our modern Albany, where the
kind-hearted Dutch, impelled by their minister, Domi
nie Megapolensis, showed him every courtesy and kind
sympathy.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 63
They had already enabled him to write to Monsieur
de Champflour, Governor of Three Rivers, in a jargon of
French, Latin and Huron, the following lines :
Sir : — This is my fourth letter since I feU into the
hands of the Iroquois. Time and paper prevent my
repeating here, what I have aHeady given you at length.
Couture and I, are yet ahve. Henry, a young man
taken at Montreal, was brought in on St. John's eve.
He did not run the gauntlet on entering the village, nor
has he lost any fingers as we did ; he is alive, as well as
all the Hurons brought in with him. Be on your guard
everywhere. New parties are constantly setting out,
and you must rely on it that the river will not be free
from the enemy before the fall. The Iroquois here are
about seven hundred ; they have three hundred arque-
busses and handle them well. They can reach Three
Rivers by different streams. Fort Richelieu gives them
a Httle more trouble, but does not hinder them. The
Iroquois say that if those who took and killed the
French at Montreal, had known how you acted in res
cuing the Sokokiois from the hands of the Algonquins,
they would not have done so. They had set out in mid
winter, before the news came. For all that, a new
party has just set out, and Mathurin's man, (F. Brebeuf
knows him weU,) is with them, and leads the band, as
he did at our capture last year. This troop desires and
intends to take French as well as Algonquins. Do not
let any consideration for me prevent your doing what
may he for God's glory.
The-design of the Iroquois, as far as I can see, is to
take all the Hurons, if they can, put to death the most
eminent, and a good part of the rest, and make, of the

64 PERILSOFTHE
two, one people and one land. I feel great compassion
for these poor people, many of whom are Christians,
others Catechumens, prepared for Baptism. When
shall these evils be stopped ? When they are all taken ?
I received many letters from the Hurons with the Rela
tion taken at Montreal. The Dutch have wished to
deliver us, but in vain. They are now making another
effort, but will be, I think, equally fruitless. I am
more and more resolved to stay here, as long as it shall
please our Lord, and not go away, even if an occasion
should offer. My presence consoles the French, Hu
rons and Algonquins. I have baptized more than sixty
persons, many of whom are now in heaven. This ia
my only consolation, with the will of God, to which I
most cheerfully unite mine.
I beg you to recommend them to offer prayers and
masses for us, and especially for him, who desires ever
to be Your most humble servant,
Isaac Jogues, S. J.
Iroquois Village, June 30th, 1643.
The following letter gives the account of his escape.
Reverend Father: — The Peace of Christ. —
On the very day of the feast of our holy Father Igna
tius, (July 31,) I left the village where I was a prisoner
to follow and accompany some Iroquois who were going
first to trade, then to fish. Having got through their
traffic, they proceeded to a place seven or eight leagues
below the Dutch post, which is on the river where we
were fishing. While arranging our weirs for the fish, a
report reached us that an Iroquois war party, returned

ocean and wilderness. 65
from the Huron hunt, 'had killed five or six on the spot,
and brought in four prisoners, two of whom had been
already burnt at our village with more than common
cruelty. At these tidings, my heart was rent with most keen
and bitter grief, that I had not seen, consoled or bap
tized these poor victims. Fearful that something of the
kind might happen again during my absence, I went to
a good old woman, who, from her age and her care of
me, as weU as from her compassion for my sufferings,
called me her nephew, as I caUed her, aunt. " Aunt,"
said I, " I would much rather go back to our . cabin, I
am very lonesome here." I did not indeed expect more
comfort or less pain at the village, where I suffered a
continual martyrdom, compelled to witness before my
eyes the horrible cruelties they perpetrate, but my heart
could not bear that one should die, without my afford
ing him baptism. "Go! nephew," said this good wo
man, " go, if you are tired of this place, and take some
thing to eat on the way." I accordingly embarked in
the first canoe going up to the .village, always conducted,
and always accompanied, by Iroquois. ,
On reaching the Dutch post, through which we had
to pass, I learned that our village was furious against
the French, and that they only awaited my return to
burn me. The reason of all was this. Among the war
parties against the French, Algonquins and Hurons was
one that resolved to go and prowl around Fort Richelieu
to spy the French and their Indian allies. A certain
Huron of this band taken by the Iroquois, and natural
ized among them, came to ask me for letters to carry to
the French, hoping perhaps to surprise some one by this
6*

66 PERILS OF THE
bait ; but, as I had no doubt the French would be on
their guard, and I saw the importance of giving them
some inkling of the designs, arms and treachery of our
enemy, I found means to get a bit of paper to write on.
The Dutch did me this charity.
I knew well the danger to which I exposed myself.
I was well aware that, if any mishap befell the party, I
would be made responsible, and the blame thrown on
my letters. I foresaw my death, but it seemed to me
sweet and agreeable, employed for the pubhc good, and
the consolation of our French, and the poor Indians
who listen to the word of Jesus Christ. My heart was
undisturbed by fear at the sight of aU that might hap
pen — God's glory was concerned.
So I gave my letter to the young brave who never
returned. The story given by his comrades is, that he
carried it to Fort Richeheu, and that, as soon as the
French saw it, they fired their cannon at them ; that,
alarmed at this, most of them took to flight, all naked,
leaving one of their canoes, in which were three arque
buses, powder, ball, and other baggage. When this
news was brought into the village, the cry was raised
that my letter had caused them to be treated so. The
rumor spread around ; it reached my ears ; I was taunted
with the mishap; they talked of nothing but burning
me ; and, had I been found in the village when these
braves returned, fire, rage, and cruelty, had deprived
me of Hfe.
To increase my misfortune, another party returning
from the neighborhood of Montreal, where they had
laid an ambush for the French, said that two of their
party had been killed, and two wounded. All made

ocean and wilderness. 67
me guilty of these mishaps. They were now beside
themselves with rage, and impatient for my return.
AU these reports I heard, offering myself unreservedly
to our Lord, and resigning myself all in all to his most
holy will.
The commander of the Dutch post where we were,
aware of the evil design of the savages, and aware, too,
that the Chevalier de Montmagny had prevented the
Canada Indians from coming to kill the Dutch, had
offered me means of escape. " Here," said he, " lies a
vessel at anchor, to sail in a few days. Get privately
on board. It is bound first to Virginia, whence it will
carry you to Bordeaux or Rochelle, where it must stop."
Thanking him with much respect and courtesy, I told
him that the Iroquois would suspect them of favoring
my escape, and perhaps do some injury to their people.
" No ! no ! " he replied, " do not fear, get on board, it
is a fine opportunity, and you will never find a surer
way of escaping."
At these words, my heart was perplexed. I doubted
whether it was not for the greater glory of our Lord
to expose myself to the danger of savage fury and
flames, in order to aid in the salvation of some soul. I
therefore replied ; " This affair, sir, seems to me so
important, that I cannot give you an answer on this
spot ; give me, if you please, to-night to think it over.
I wiU recommend it to our Lord ; I will examine the
reasons on both sides, and will tell you my final resolu
tion in the morning." Greatly astonished, he granted
my request. The night I spent in prayer, earnestly
imploring our Lord not to let me adopt a conclusion
myself, but to give me Hght to know his most holy will ;

68 PERILSOFTHE
that, in all, and through all, even to the stake itself,, I
would follow it. The reasons to retain me in the country
were the consideration of the French and Indians ; I
loved them, and felt so great a desire to be of aid to
them, that I had resolved to pass the rest of my days
in this captivity, for their salvation ; but now I beheld
the face of affairs entirely changed.
First, as for the three Frenchmen, brought prisoners
like myself into the country, one, Rene Goupil, had
been massacred at my feet. This young man was as
pure as an angel. Henry, taken at Montreal, had fled
to the woods ; because, while he was beholding the
cruelties perpetrated on two Hurons roasting alive, some
Iroquois told him that they would treat him so and me
too, as soon as I got back. This threat made him
resolve to run the risk of starving in the woods, or
being devoured by some wild beast, rather than endure
the torments inflicted by these half demons. He had
not been seen for seven days. As to William Couture,
I could scarcely see any means of being of service to
him for he had been put in a village at a distance from
mine, and the Indians kept him so busy here and there,
that I could no longer find him. He had, moreover,
himself told me, " Father, try to escape ; as soon as I see
no more of you, I will manage to get off. You know
well that I remain in this captivity only for your sake ;
do your best then to escape, for I cannot think of my
own liberty or life, till I see you in safety." Besides,
this good young friend had been given to an old man,
who assured him that he would let him go in peace, if
I could effect my deliverance, so that I no longer saw
any reason to remain on account of the French.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 69
As to the Indians, instructing them was now out of
the question, and almost hopeless ; for the whole coun
try was so excited against me, that I no longer found
means to speak to them or gain them ; and the Algon
quins and Hurons kept aloof from me, as a victim
destined to the flames, because they feared to come in
for a share of the rage and hatred which the Iroquois
bore me. I saw, too, that I had some knowledge of
their language, that I knew their country and their
strength, and that I could perhaps contribute better to
their salvation in other ways, than by remaining among
them. All this knowledge, it occurred to me, would
die with me, if I did not escape. The wretches too,
had so little intention of giving us up, that they com
mitted an act of perfidy against the right and custom of
all these nations. An Indian of the country of the
Sokokiois, allies of the Iroquois, having been taken by
the upper Algonquins, and brought to Three Rivers, or
Quebec as a prisoner, was delivered, and set at liberty
by the intervention of the Governor of New France, at
the solicitation of our Fathers. The good Indian, see
ing that the French had saved his life, sent beautiful
presents, in the month of April, to deliver at least one
of the French. The Iroquois retained the presents
without setting one of us at Hberty ; a treachery, perhaps,
unexampled among these tribes, for they invariably
observe the law, that whoso touches or accepts the
present made him, must execute what is asked by the
present. Accordingly, when they do not wish to grant
what is desired, they send back the presents or make
others in their stead.
But to return to my purpose ; having weighed before

70 PERILS OF THE
God with all possible abstraction from self, the reasons
for remaining among the Indians, and those for leaving,
I concluded that our Lord would be more pleased with
my taking the opportunity to escape.
As soon as it was day, I went to salute the Dutch
governor, and told him the resolution I had come to
before God ; he caUed for the officers of the ship, told
them his intentions, and exhorted them to receive and
conceal me, in a word, to carry me over to Europe.
They rephed, that if I could once set foot in their ves
sel, I was safe ; I should not leave it till I reached
Bordeaux or Rochelle. " Cheer up, then," said the
governor, " return with the Indians, and this evening,
or in the night, steal off quietly and make for the river,
there you will find a little boat, which I will have
ready to take you to the ship." After most humble
thanks to all those gentlemen, I left the Dutch the bet
ter to conceal my design ; in the evening, I retired, with
ten or twelve Iroquois, to a barn, where we spent the
night ; before lying down, I went out to see where I
could most easily escape. The dogs then let loose, ran
at me, and a large and powerful one, snapped at my
bare leg, and bit it severely ; I immediately entered the
barn, the Iroquois closed the door securely, and, to
guard me better, came and lay beside me, especially one
who was in a manner appointed to watch me. Seeing
myself beset with these mishaps, and the barn weU shut
and surrounded by dogs, that would betray me if I
attempted to go out, I almost thought that I could not
escape, and sweetly complained to my God, that, having
given the thought of escaping, " He hath shut up my
way with square stones, and in a spacious place my

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 71
feet." — Lament, iii. 9. This whole night also, I spent
without sleep ; towards day I heard the cocks crow ; —
soon after a servant of the Dutch farmer who had
received us into his barn entered by some door I did
not see. I went up to him softly, and, not understanding
his Flemish, made him a sign to stop the dogs barking ;
he immediately went out, and I after him as soon as I
had taken my little luggage, consisting of a Little Office
of the Blessed Virgin, a following of Christ, and a
wooden cross which I had made to keep me in mind of
my Savior's sufferings. Having got out of the barn
without making any noise, or waking my guards, I
chmbed over a fence which enclosed the house, and
ran straight to the river, where the ship was ; it was as
much as my wounded leg could do, for the distance
was a good quarter of a league. I found the boat as I
had been told, but, as the tide had gone down, it was
high and dry ; I pushed it to get it to the water, hut,
finding it too heavy, I caUed to the ship to send me
their boat to take me on board. There was no answer ;
I do not know whether they heard me ; be that as it
may, no one appeared, and day was now beginning to
reveal to the Iroquois the robbery which I had made of
myself, and I feared to be surprised in my innocent crime.
Weary of hallooing, I returned to my boat, and praying
to the Almighty to increase my strength, I succeeded
at last so well, by working it slowly on, and pushing
stoutly, that I got it into the water. As soon as it
floated, I jumped in, and reached the vessel alone, un
perceived by any Iroquois. I was immediately lodged
in the bottom of the hold, and, to hide me, they put a
large box on the hatch. I was two days and two nights

72 PERILSOFTHE
in the hold of this ship, in such a state that I expected
to be suffocated, and die of the stench, when I remem
bered poor Jonah, and prayed our Lord, " that I might
not flee from his face," (Jonas i. 3,) nor depart from
his will, but, on the contrary, " that he would infatuate
all counsels," (2 Kings xv. 31,) that were not for his
glory, and to keep me in the land of these heathen, if
he did not approve my retreat and flight.
The second night of my voluntary imprisonment, the
Minister of the Hollanders came to tell me, that the
Iroquois had made much trouble, and that the Dutch
settlers were afraid that they would set fire to their
houses and kill their cattle. They have reason to fear
them, for they are armed with good arquebuses. " If,"
I replied, " for my sake, this great tempest is upon you,
cast me into the sea." — Jonas i. 12. If this trouble has
been caused by mej I am ready to appease it at the loss
of my life. I had never wished to escape to the injury
of the least man in the colony.*
At last, then, I had to leave my den ; the sailors took
umbrage, saying " that they had pledged their word in
case I could set foot on the ship, and that they were
now taking me off at the very moment when they
should have brought me, had I not been there ; that I
had put my life in danger, by escaping on their promise,
and that, cost what it might, they must stick to it."
This honest bluntness touched me, but I begged them
to let me go, as the captain, who had opened to me the

* He could say no more ; for, spent with suffering of mind and body, and
with want of food, he fell senseless on the deck. — MS. of F. Botecx.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 73
doorway of escaping, now asked me back.* I was
taken to his house, where he kept me concealed. These
comings and goings were done by night, so that I was
not discovered. In all this proceeding, I might have
urged my own reasons, but it was not for me to speak
in my own cause, but rather to follow the commands of
others ; I cheerfully submitted. At last, the captain
told me that we must yield calmly to the storm, and
wait till the minds of the Indians were appeased ; in
this advice aU concurred. Here then I am a voluntary
prisoner in his house, whence I write this. If you ask
my thoughts in all this affair, I will tell you, First, that
the vessel which had wished to save me has gone off
without me. Second, that if our Lord does not, in
an almost miraculous way, protect me, the Indians, who
come and go here every moment, will discover me, and-
if they ever believe that I am still here, I must necessa
rily be restored to their hands.
Now when they had such fury against me before my
flight, how will they treat me when I fall again into
their power ? I will die by no ordinary death ; their
fire, rage and new devised cruelties will wring out my
life. Blessed be God's name forever ! We are ever in
the bosom of his divine and adorable Providence.
" Yea, the very hairs of your head are numbered. Fear
not, therefore ; you are of more value than many spar
rows," " not one of whom falls to the earth without
your Father." — Luke xii. 7.
I have been hidden ten or twelve days, and it is hardly
possible that an evil day will not come upon me.
* By captain, he means apparently another than Van Curler, whom ha
calls governor, for he was not in his house.

74 PERILS OF THE
In the third place, you will see our great need of
your prayers, and of the holy sacrifices of aU our Fathers.
Give us this alms " that the Lord may render me fit to
love him, patient to endure, constant to persevere in his
holy love and service." This, and a little New Testa
ment from Europe, are my sole desires. Pray for these '
poor nations that burn and eat each other, that they may
come to a knowledge of their Creator, and render him
the tribute of their love. " I am mindful of you in my
bonds ;" captivity cannot enchain my remembrance.
I am, in heart and affection, etc.
Rensselaerswyck, 30 August, 1643.
The Mohawks were not easily appeased, and Father
Jogues remained a close prisoner for six weeks ; so
much neglected by his honest, but it would seem avari
cious, host, that he actually suffered hunger and thirst,
for though his excellent friend, Megapolensis, constantly
sent him victuals from his own table, it was not always
that his present reached the missionary. In a letter,
written by Father Jogues after his return to France, we
can pursue his history. Addressing Father Charles
Lalemant, the first Superior of the Jesuit missions in
Canada, already known to our readers, he says : —
" Rennes, January 6, 1644.
" ' Now I know in very deed that the Lord hath sent
his angels and hath dehvered me out of the hand of
Herod, and from aU the expectation of the Jews.' — Acts
xn. 11. The Iroquois came to the Dutch post about
the middle of September, and made a great deal of dis
turbance, but at last received the presents made by the

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 75
captain who had me concealed. They amounted to
about three hundred livres, which I will endeavor to
repay. All things being quieted, I was sent to Manhat
tan, where the Governor of the country resides. He
received me very kindly, gave me clothes, and passage
in a vessel, which crossed the ocean in mid-winter.
" Having put in in England, I got on a cottier's ves
sel which brought me to Lower Brittany, with a night
cap on my head, in utter want of every thing, as you
landed at St. Sebastian, but not after two shipwrecks." *
His companion from Albany was Dominie Bogardus, -who showed
the greatest affection for him, and welcomed him to his house in
Manhattan. The Governor, William Kieft, also treated him with
marked kindness, and the Missionary, now cured of his recent wound,
had leisure to examine the state of the capital of the Dutch colony.
His observations he afterwards committed to writing, and, as the
manuscript has been lately made public, we insert it at large.
NEW HOLLAND,
Which the Dutch call, in Latin, Novum Belgium, in
their own language, Nieuw Netherland, that is to say,
New Low Countries, is situated between Virginia and
New England. The mouth of the river, which some
people call Nassau, or the Great North River, to distin
guish it from another, which they call the South River,
and from some maps that I have recently seen, I think
Maurice River, is at 40 deg. 30 min. The channel is
deep, fit for the largest ships, which ascend to Manhat-
te's Island, which is seven leagues in circuit, and on
which there is a fort, to serve as the commencement of
a town to be built here, and to be called New Amsterdam.
* See Relations, 1642-3, p. 284.

76 PERILS OP THE
The fort, which is at the point of the island, about five
or six leagues from the mouth, is called Fort Amster
dam ; it has four regular bastions mounted, with several
pieces of artillery. All these bastions, and the curtains
were, in 1643, but mounds, most of which had crumbled
away, so that they entered the fort on all sides. There
were no ditches. For the garrison of the said fort, and
another wliich they had built still further up, against
the incursions of the savages, their enemies, there were
sixty soldiers. They were beginning to face the gates
and bastions with stone. Within the fort there was a
pretty large stone church, the house of the Governor,
whom they call Director General, quite neatly built of
brick, the storehouses, and barracks.
On the Island of Manhatte, and in its environs, there
may well be four or five hundred men of different sects
and nations ; the Director General told me that there
were men of eighteen different languages ; they are scat
tered here and there on the river, above and below, as the
beauty and convenience of the spot invited each to set
tle ; some, mechanics, however, who ply their trade, are
ranged under the fort ; all the others were exposed to
the incursions of the natives, who, in the year 1643,
while I was there, actually killed some two score Hol
landers, and burnt many houses and barns fuU of wheat.
The river, which is very straight, and runs due north
and south, is at least a league broad before the fort.
Ships lie at anchor in a bay which forms the other side
of the island, and can be defended from the fort.
Shortly before I arrived there, three large ships of
three hundred tons each had come to load wheat ; two
found cargoes, the third could not be loaded, because

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 77
the savages had burnt a part of their grain. These
ships came from the West Indies, where the West
India Company usually keeps up seventeen ships of
war. No religion is publicly exercised, but the Calvinist ;
and orders are to admit none but Calvinists ; but this is
not observed ; for there are in the Colony besides them
Cathohcs, Enghsh Puritans, Lutherans, Anabaptists,
here called Mnistes, Mennonists, etc. When any
one comes to settle in the country, they lend him horses,
cows, etc.; they give him provisions, all of which he
returns as soon as he is at ease ; and, as to the land, after
ten years, he pays to the West India Company, the
tenth of the produce which he reaps.
This country is bounded on the New England side
by a river which they call the Fresche (Conne'cticut)
River, which serves as a boundary between them and
the English. The English, however, come very near to
them, choosing to hold lands under the HoUanders, who
ask nothing, rather than depend on Enghsh Lords, who
exact rents, and would fain be absolute. On the other
side, southward, toward Virginia, its limits are the river
which they call the South (Delaware) River, on which
there is also a Dutch settlement, but the Swedes have one
at its mouth, extremely weU supplied with cannons and
men. It is believed that these Swedes are maintained
by some Amsterdam merchants, who are not satisfied
that the West India Company should alone enjoy all the
commerce of these parts. It is near this river that a
gold mine is reported to have been found.
See, in the work of the Sieur de Laet of Antwerp, the
table and chapter on New Belgium, as he sometimes
7*

78 PERILS OF THE
calls it, or the map " Nova AngHa, Novu Belgium et
Virginia." It is about forty years since the Hollanders came to
these parts. The fort was begun in the year 1615 ;
they began to settle about twenty years ago, and there is
already some Httle commerce with Virginia and New
England. The first comers found lands fit for use, previously
cleared by the savages, who formerly had fields here.
Those who came later have cleared the woods, which are
mostly of oak. The soil is good. Deer hunting is
abundant in the faU. There are some houses built of
stone ; Hme they make of oyster shells, great heaps of
which are found here, made formerly by the savages,
who subsisted in part by that fishery.
The climate is very mild. Lying at forty and two-
thirds degrees, there are many European fruits, as ap
ples, pears and cherries. I reached there in October,
and found, even then, a considerable quantity of peaches.
Ascending the river to the forty-third degree, you
meet the second Dutch settlement, which the tide
reaches, but does not pass. Ships of a hundred and
twenty tons can come up to it.
There are two things in this settlement, (which is
called Rensselaerswyck, as if to say settlement of Rens-
selaers, who is a rich Amsterdam merchant) — first, a
miserable Httle fort called Fort Orange, built of logs,
with four or five pieces of Breteuil cannon, and as many
swivels. This has been reserved, and is maintained by
the West India Company. This fort was formerly on
an island in the river ; it is now on the main land,
towards the Hiroquois, a little above the said island.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 79
Second, a colony sent here by this Rensselaers, who is
the Patroon. This colony is composed of about a hun
dred persons, who reside in some twenty-five or thirty
houses, built along the river, as each found most conve
nient. In the principal house lives the Patroon's agent ;
the Minister has his apart, in which service is performed.
There is also a kind of Bailiff here, whom they call the
Seneschal, who administers justice. Their houses are
merely of boards, and thatched, with no mason work
except the chimneys. The forest furnishing many large
pines, they make boards by means of their mills, which
they have here for the purpose.
They found some pieces of ground already, which
the savages had formerly cleared, and in which they
sow wheat and oats for beer, and for their horses, of
which they have great numbers.* There is Httle land fit
for tillage, being hemmed in by hills, which are barren.
This obhges them to separate, and they akeady occupy
two or three leagues of country.
Trade is free to all ; this gives the Indians all things
cheap, each of the HoHanders outbidding his neighbor,
and being satisfied, provided he can gain some Httle
profit. This settlement is not more than twenty leagues from
the Agniehronons, (Mohawks) who can be reached by
land or water, as the river on which the Iroquois he,
faUs into that which passes by the Dutch, but there are
many low rapids, and a fall of a short half league, where
the canoe must be carried.
* The introduction of horseB and of European fruits was much neglected
by the French in Canada, and, even later than this date, an apple was a
rarity.

80 PERILSOFTHE
There are many nations between the two Dutch set
tlements, which are about thirty German leagues apart ;
that is, about fifty or sixty French leagues. The Loups*
whom the Iroquois call Agotsagenens, are the nearest to
Rensselaerswyck and Fort Orange. War breaking out
some years ago between the Iroquois and the Loups,
the Dutch joined the latter against the former, but four
men having been taken and burnt, they made peace.
Since then, some nations near the sea having killed some
Hollanders of the most distant settlement, the Holland
ers killed one hundred and fifty Indians, men, women
and chidren. They having then, at intervals, killed
forty Hollanders, burnt many houses, and committed
ravages, estimated, at the time that I was there, at
200,000 liv. (two hundred thousand Hvres,) they raised
troops in New England. Accordingly, in the beginning
of winter, the grass being trampled down, and some
snow on the ground, they gave them chase with six
hundred men, keeping two hundred always on the move,
and constantly reheving one another ; so that the In
dians, shut up in a large island, and unable to flee easily
on account of their women and children, were cut to
pieces, to the number of sixteen hundred, including
women and children. This obliged the rest of the In
dians to make peace, which still continues. This occur
red in 1643 and 1644.
Three Rivers in New France, Aug. 3, 1646.
* These are the Mohegans, whom Champlain, the first to know them,
calls them "Mayganathiooise," which means "Wolf tribe," p. 173. The
Indian name Mohegan has been preserved in English, but the French, trans
lating their name, generally called them Loups, though Mohingan is not
nnfrequent. Champl&in puts them two days' march from the Yrocois and
three or four from the Dutch.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 81
The sequel of the missionary's career can be shortly told. He left
New York as we have seen in a small bark on the 5th of November,
and, after much hardship, put into Falmouth, in England, having
almost fallen into the hands of a Parliament cruiser. Here their bark
was entered by robbers, and F. Jogues stripped of his hat and coat.
Having seen a French collier, he went up to him, and though at first
taken for a beggar, made known his real character, and obtained
passage to the French coast, which he reached between Brest and
St. Pol de Leon on Christmas day, early enough to satisfy his devo
tion by receiving communion, of which he had so long been deprived.
A good merchant took him to Rennes, unknown ; he presented
himself at the college of his order as one who brought news from
Canada. The Rector, who was preparing to say mass, hurried to see
the stranger, as soon as he heard the word Canada. Almost his first
question was, as to Father Jogues, " Do you know him ? " "I
know him well," said the other. " "We have heard of his capture by
the Iroquois, and his horrible sufferings. What has become of him ?
Is he still alive ? " " He is alive," said F. Jogues, " he is free, he is
now speaking to you," and he cast himself at the feet of his astonish
ed Superior to ask his blessing.
Once known, honors met him on every side ; objects belonging to
him were eagerly sought as relics j the Queen Regent even requested
that he should come to Paris, that she might see so illustrious a suf
ferer. All this was painful to him, and it was not till three times
summoned, that he proceeded to the Capital. He longed- to return
to Canada ; but one thing prevented his departure. The mangled
hands which had been reverently kissed by the Queen and Court of
France, were an obstacle to his celebrating the Holy Sacrifice of the
Altar. A dispensation was needed. Urban VIII. then sat in the
• See of Peter, a Pope noted especially for the stringent rules which he
introduced against any symptom of public veneration to the departed
servants of God, until their life and virtues had been sifted and exam
ined in the long and minute legal proceedings for canonization. Yet,
when the application of Father Jogues was presented, and he had
learned the story of his sufferings, he forgot his own laws, and ex
claimed, as he granted it, " Indignum esse Christi martyrem Christi
non bibere sanguinem."
Nothing now detained the missionary in France, and early in the
spring of 1644, he was again in Canada. The colony was on the

82 PERILS OF THE
brink of ruin, but the Governor fortunately brought the Mohawks to
offer peace. It was concluded at Three Rivers on the 12th of July,
1645. Father Jogues, though stationed at Montreal, was present,
and an anxious observer of the state of feeling. The treaty was at
last confirmed on the Mohawk, and again renewed on the St. Law
rence, with a request for a missionary. Conscious that all would
turn to him, he wrote to a friend the followmg oft-cited letter : —
"Alas, my dear Father, when shall I begin to love
and serve him whose love for us had no beginning ?
When shall I begin to give myself entirely to him, who
has given himself unreservedly to me ? Although I
am very miserable, and have so misused the graces our
Lord has done me in this country, I do not despair, as
he takes care to render me better by giving me new
occasions to die to self, and unite myself inseparably to
him. "The Iroquois have come to make some presents to
our Governor to ransom some prisoners he held, and to
treat of peace with him in the name of the whole
country. It has been concluded to the great joy of the
French. It will last as long as pleases the Almighty.
" To maintain it, and see what can be done for the
instruction of these tribes, it is here deemed expedient
to send some Father. I have reason to think I shall be
sent, having some knowledge of the language and
country. You see what need I have of the powerful
aid of prayers, being amidst these savages. I will have
to remain among them, almost without hberty to pray,
without mass, without sacraments, and be responsible
for every accident among the Iroquois, French, Algon
quins, and others. But what do I say 1 My hope is in
God, who needs not us to accomphsh his designs. We

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 83
must endeavor to be faithful to him, and not spoil his
work by our short-comings. I trust you will obtain me
this favor of our Lord, that, having led so wretched a
Hfe till now, I may at last begin to serve him better.
" My heart tells me that if I have the happiness of being
employed in this mission, Ibo et non redibo : but I shall
be happy, if our Lord will complete the sacrifice where
he has begun it, and make the Httle blood I have shed
in that land, the earnest of what I would give from
every vein of my body and my heart.
"In a word, this people is 'a bloody spouse to
me,' 'in my blood have I espoused it to me.' — Exod.
iv. 25. May our good Master, who has purchased them
in his blood, open to them the door of his gospel, as
weU as to the four alhed nations near them.
" Adieu, dear Father, pray him to unite me insepara
bly to him. "Isaac Jogues, S. J."
The mission was at last resolved upon : in a council of the mis
sionaries at Quebec, it was determined in April that Father Jogues
should begin the new mission of the Martyrs.
He received the announcement at Montreal, and wrote as follows :
" Reverend Father:
" The letter which it has pleased your Reverence to
write, found me in my Retreat, and in the Exercises*
which I had begun, there being no canoe to carry our
* To make a retreat or perform the spiritual exercises, is to give a certain
time, usually eight days, to silence, prayer, meditation, pious reading, and
Belf-examination. This is required annually by the rules of some religious
orders, and is a common practice with the devout in Catholic countries,
where suitable houses are to be found adapted for this temporary retire
ment.

84 PERILS OP THE
letters. I chose this time, because the Indians, being at
the chase, allow us to enjoy a greater silence.
" Would you believe, that on opening your letter my
heart was at first seized with a kind of fear, that what
I desire, and what my soul should earnestly desire,
might arrive ? Poor nature, mindful of the past, trem
bled; but our Lord, by his goodness, has given, and
will again restore it calm.
" Yes, Father, I will all that our Lord wills, and I
will it at the peril of a thousand lives. Oh ! how I
should regret to lose so glorious an occasion, when it
may depend only on me that some souls be saved ! I
hope that his goodness, which has not abandoned me in
the hour of trial, will aid me still. He and I are able
to trample down every difficulty that can oppose the
project. " It is much to be ' in medio nationis prava?,' with
out mass, without altar, without confession, without sac
raments, but his holy will and divine Providence so
wiU it.
" He who, by his holy grace, preserved us without
these helps, for eighteen or twenty months, will not
refuse us the same favor, for we do not thrust ourselves
into this work, but undertaking this voyage solely to
please him, without consulting all the repugnances of
nature. " As to all these comings and goings of the Iroquois,
what I can say is, that I see very few from the first two
towns ; yet it is with them chiefly that we are concerned,
as the last killed were of these villages. Scarcely any
have come except from the last village, where Couture
was, and they profess, at least, in words, not to come

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 85
as warriors in these parts. It is not, however, with
these last that we must dwell, but with those whom we
do not see.
"I thank you affectionately for sending me your
Huron rudiments. Send the rest, when you please.
What I need is chiefly prayers, formularies for confes
sion, et ejusdem generis. I wiU thereby become your
debtor, as I am already on so many grounds. I owe
your Reverence the account of the ' Capture and Death
of good Rene Goupil,' which I should have sent akeady.
If the bearer of this give me time, I will send it along.
" If God wills that I go to the Iroquois, my compan
ion must be virtuous, docile, courageous, and willing to
suffer something for God. It would be well for him to
know how to make canoes, so that we can go and return
without caUing on the Indians."
The account of Rene Goupil here referred to still exists in manu
script, and as probably his last work, we insert it in this collection.

86 PERILS OP THE

CHAPTER III.
ACCOUNT Or THE CAPTIVITY AND DEATH OP RENE GOtTHD.
BT FATHER ISAAC J0QOTS.
Rene Goupil was a native of Angers, who in the
bloom of life earnestly asked admission into our noviti
ate at Paris, where he remained some months with great
edification. His bodily ailments having deprived him
of the happiness of consecrating himself in the holy state
of religion as he had wished, he crossed over to New
France, as soon as he grew better, to serve the society
there, as he had not had the happiness of giving himself
to it in the old. And to do nothing of his own head,
though perfect master of his actions, he submitted him
self entirely to the direction of the Superior of the mis
sion, who employed him for two whole years in the
meanest employments of the house, which he discharged
with great humility and charity. They also gave him
the care of tending the sick and wounded, in the hospi
tal, a post he filled with great ability, for he was well
skilled in surgery, and with equal love and charity,
always beholding our Lord in the person of his patients.
So sweet an odor of his goodness and other virtues did
he leave in that place, that his memory is stiU in bene
diction there.
As we descended from the Hurons in July, 1642, we

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 87
asked the reverend Father Vimont to let us take him,
as the Hurons greatly needed a surgeon, and he con
sented. It were impossible to express the joy of this
good young man when the Superior told him to prepare
for the voyage. He knew withal the great dangers on
the river; he knew how furious the Iroquois were
against the French, yet all this could not deter him
from embarking for Three Rivers, at the slightest sign
of his will, to whom he had voluntarily resigned all that
concerned him.
We left there, (Three Rivers,) on the first of August,
the morrow of the feast of our holy Father. On the
second, we met the enemy, who divided into two bands,
awaited us, with all the advantage, which a large num
ber of picked men, fighting on land, can have over a
smaller one of all kinds on the water in bark canoes.
Almost all the Hurons had fled into the wood, and,
having left us, we were taken. Here his virtue was
strikingly displayed, for, as soon as he was taken, he
said : " Father ! Blessed be God, he has permitted it,
he has wished it, his holy will be done, I love it, I wish
it, I cherish it, I embrace it with all my heart." While
the enemy pursued the fugitives, I confessed him and
gave him absolution, not knowing what was to befal us
after our capture. The enemy having returned from
the chase, fell on us with their teeth like furious dogs,
tore out our nails and crunched our fingers, aU which
he endured with great patience and courage.
His presence of mind, in so distressing an accident,
was shown, especially in his aiding me, in spite of his
wounds, in instructing, as far as he could, the Huron
prisoners, who were not yet Christians. As I was in-

88 PERILS OF THE
structing them separately, and as they came to me, he
reminded me that a poor old man named OndSterraon,
might well be one of those to be killed on the spot, it
being their custom always to sacrifice some one to the
heat of their rage. I instructed this old man carefuUy
while the enemy were busied with the division of the
booty of twelve canoes, a part of which were laden with
necessaries for our Huron Fathers. The spoil being
divided, they killed the poor old man almost at the very
moment when I had given him a new birth. During
our march to the enemy's country, we had the additional
consolation of being together, and here, I witnessed
many virtues.
On the way, he was always absorbed in God. His
words and conversation were all in perfect submissive-
ness to the orders of Divine Providence, and a volun
tary acceptance of the death which God sent him.
He offered himself to him as a holocaust, to be reduced
to ashes in the fires of the Iroquois, which that good
Father should enkindle. In all and by all, he sought
means to please him. One day, it was soon after our
capture, he told me, while still on the way : " Father !
God has always given me a great desire to consecrate
myself to his holy service by the vows of religion in his
holy society ; till now my sins have rendered me un
worthy of this grace ; yet I hope that our Lord will
accept the offering I wish to make him now, allow me to
take, in the best manner I can, the vows of the society in
the presence of my God, and before you." Having per
mitted him, he pronounced them with great devotion.
Wounded as he was, he dressed the wounds of others,
not only of the prisoners, but even of such of the enemy

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 89
as had received any wound in the combat. He also
bled a sick Iroquois, and did it all with as much charity
as if he were doing it to his dearest friends.
His humility, and the obedience he paid to his cap
tors, confounded me. The Iroquois, who had us both
in their canoe, told me to take a paddle, and use it.
Proud even in death, I would not. Some time after,
they told him to do it, and he immediately began to
paddle ; but when he perceived that the Indians wished
to compel me to do so after his example, he begged my
pardon. At times, on the way, I suggested to him
thoughts of flight, as the liberty given us afforded him
abundant opportunity. For my own part, I could not
forsake a Frenchman and twenty-four or five Huron
prisoners. He would never do it, resigning himself
entirely to the will of our Lord, who inspired him with
no such thought.
On the Lake, (Champlain,) we met two hundred Iro
quois, who came to Richelieu, when they began to build
the fort ; they covered us with stripes, drenched us in
blood, and made us experience the rage of men possessed
by the devil. AU these outrages and cruelties he en
dured with great patience and charity for those who
iU-treated him.
On entering the first town where we were so cruelly
treated, he showed extraordinary patience and mildness.
Having fallen under the haU of blows, of clubs, and iron
rods poured on us, and unable to rise, he was carried,
as it were, half dead on the scaffold, where we were
already in the middle of the town, but in so pitiable
state that he would have moved cruelty itself to com
passion ; he was aU Hvid with bruises, and in his face
8*

90 PERILS OP THE
we could distinguish nothing but the white of his eyes ;
yet, he was the more beautiful in the eyes of angels as
he was more disfigured and Hke him, of whom it is
said : " We have seen him as a leper," etc. " There
was in him neither comehness nor beauty."
Scarcely had he, or even we, recovered breath, when
they came and gave him three blows on the shoulders
with a heavy club, as they had done to us. After cut
ting off a thumb from me, as the most important, they
turned to him, and cut off his right thumb at the first
joint. During this cruel operation, he constantly re
peated, " Jesus, Mary, Joseph." During the six days
that we were exposed to all those who chose to maltreaj
us, he displayed extraordinary mUdness ; his breast was
all burnt by the live coals and ashes, wliich the boys
threw on his body, when he was tied down on the ground
at night. Nature gave me more dexterity than him in
escaping some of these pains.
" After our life was granted us, just after we had been
warned to prepare to be burned, he fell sick in great want
of everything, especially of food, for he was not accus
tomed to theirs. Here truly it may be said, " Non cibus
utilis segro." I could not relieve him, being also sick,
and not having one finger sound, or whole.
Bnt I must hasten to his death, which wants nothing
to be that of a martyr.
After we had been six weeks in the country, as con
fusion arose in the councils of the Iroquois, some of
whom were for sending us back, we lost all hope, which
in me had never been sanguine, of seeing Three Rivers
that year. We consdled one another then at this dis
posal of Providence, and prepared for all he should

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 91
ordain in our regard. He did not see the danger we
were in so clearly ; I saw it better. This made me often
tell him to hold himself in readiness. Accordingly, one
day, when in our mental pain, we had gone out of the
town to pray more becomingly and undisturbed by noise,
two young men came after us and told us to return home.
I had some presentiment of what was to happen ; and
told him : " My dear brother, let us recommend ourselves
to our Lord and to our good mother, the Blessed Virgin ;
these men have some evil design, as I think." We had
a little before offered ourselves to our Lord with much
devotion, beseeching him to accept our lives and blood,
and unite them to his Hfe and blood for the salvation of
these poor tribes. We were returning then towards the
town, reciting our beads, of which we had already said
four decades, and having stopped near the gate of the
town to see what they would say, one of these two Iro
quois drew an axe which he had hidden under his blanket,
and dealt Rene a blow on the head as he stood before
him ; he fell stiff on his face on the ground, uttering the
holy name of Jesus, for we had often reminded each
other to close our voice and life with that holy name.
I turned at the blow, and seeing the reeking hatchet, fell
on my knees to receive the blow that was to unite me to
my loved companion, but as they delayed I rose, ran to
him, as he lay expiring near me. They gave him two
more blows on the head, and extinguished life, but not
before I had given him absolution, which, since our cap
tivity, I had given him regularly after his confession
every other day.
It was the  day of September, the feast of St.
Michael, that this angel in innocence, and martyr of

92 PERILS OF THE
Christ, gave his life for him, who had given him hi8.
They commanded me to return to my cabin, where I
awaited during the rest of the day and the next the same
treatment. It was the behef of all that I would not wait
long as he had begun it, and in fact for several days they
came to kill me, but our Lord prevented it by ways,
which would be too long to explain. Early the next
morning, I did not fail to start out to inquire where they
had thrown that blessed body, for I wished to inter it,
cost what it might. Some Iroquois, who had a wish to
save me, said, " Thou hast no sense ; thou seest that they
seek thee everywhere to kill thee, and thou goest out
still ; thou wilt go to seek a body aheady half corrupted,
which has been dragged far from here. Seest thou not,
those young men going out, who will kill thee, when thou
art past the paHsade ? " This did not stop me, and our
Lord gave me courage enough to be willing to die in
that office of charity. I go, I seek, and by the help of
an Algonquin taken, and now a real Iroquois, I find it.
After he had been killed, the children had stripped him
and, tying a cord around his neck, dragged him to a tor
rent which runs at the foot of their town. The dogs
had already gnawed a part of his thighs. At this spec
tacle, I could not withhold my tears. I took the body,
and, aided by the Algonquin, I sunk it in the water and
covered it with large stones, to hide it, intending to re
turn the next day with a spade, when there was no one
near, and dig a grave and inter it. I thought the body
well hidden, but perhaps some one saw us, especially of
the youth, and took it up.
The next day, as they sought to kill me, my aunt sent
me to her field to escape as I think ; this compelled me

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. yd
to defer it tiU the following day. It rained all night, so
that the torrent was extremely swelled ; I borrowed a
hoe in another cabin, the better to conceal my design,
but, on approaching the place, could not find the blessed
deposit ; I entered the water already quite cold, I go and
come ; I sound with my feet to see whether the water
had not raised and carried off the body, . but I saw
nothing. How many tears I shed, wliich fell in the tor
rent, while I sang as I could the psalms which the church
chants for the dead ! After all, I found nothing, and a
woman known to me who passed by, seeing me in
trouble, told me, when I asked her whether she did not
know what had been done with it, that it had been
dragged to the river which is a quarter of a league from
there, and with which I was not acquainted. This was
false, the young men had taken it up and dragged it to
a neighboring wood, where, during the fall and winter,
it was the food of the dog, the crow, and the fox.
When I was told in the spring that he had been dragged
there, I went several times without finding anything ;
at last, the fourth time I found his head, and some half
gnawed bones, which I interred, intending to carry them
off, if taken back to Three Rivers as was then talked of.
Repeatedly did I kiss them as the bones of a martyr of
Jesus Christ.
I give him this title, not only because he was Mlled
by the enemies of God, and his church, in the exercise
of an ardent love for his neighbor, putting himself in evi
dent peril for the love of God, but particularly because
he was killed for prayer, and expressly for the Holy
Cross. He was in a cabin where he prayed daUy, which
scarcely pleased a superstitious old man there. One

94 „ PERILS OF THE
day, seeing a little chUd three or four years old in the
cabin, from an excess of devotion and a love of the cross,
and in a simphcity which we, who are more prudent
according to the flesh would not have had, he took off
his cap, and putting it on the child's head, made the sign
of the cross on his body. The old man seeing it ordered
a young man in his cabin, who was starting on a war
party, to kUl him, and he obeyed the order as we have
seen. The mother of the child herself, in a march which I
had made with her, told me that he had been killed for
that sign of the cross, and the old man who had given
the order to kill him, invited me one day to his cabin,
to dinner ; but, when I made the sign of the cross be
fore beginning, he said, " There is what we hate ; that
is what we killed thy comrade for, and will kill thee
too. Our neighbors, the Europeans, do not make it."
Sometimes, too, as I prayed on my knees in hunting
time, they told me that they hated that way of doing,
and had killed the other Frenchman for it, and would
kill me too, when I got back to the village.
I beg pardon of your Reverence, for the precipitation
with wliich I write this, and my want of respect in so
doing. Excuse me, if you please ; I feared to miss this
opportunity of discharging a debt I should long since
have discharged.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 95

CHAPTER IV.
DEATH OF FATHER JOGUES.
Though a mission was resolved upon, it was thought better that
he should go first us ambassador, and was accordingly sent with
Mr. Bourdon, an officer in the employ of the colony.* Of this
embassy, the missionary drew up a full account, which was in exist
ence till 1800, when it was, with other papers belonging to the Canada
Jesuits, seized by the British government. It has now disappeared.
The Relation, which doubtless followed it, says that they left Three
Rivers on the 16th of May, 1646, with four Mohawks and two Algon
quins. Ascending the Sorel, they traversed Lake Champlain, and, on
the 29th of May, reached the beautiful lake below it. Its Iroquois
name was Andiataracte ; for Europeans, it was without a name, but,
as it was the eve of Corpus Christi, the festival instituted by the
Church, to honor Christ's presence in the Holy Eucharist, the mis
sionary gave it the name, which it bore for more than a century, Lac
Saint Sacrement, or Lake of the Blessed Sacrament, t
Continuing their march, they came to Ossarague, a fishing station,
on the Maurice, or Upper Hudson, which they descended to Fort
Orange. When the missionary had here repaid his debt of gratitude,
* As the missionary was about to set out, an Algonquin chief advised him
to lay aside his religions habit. His reason was striking; it exemplifies
perfectly what has been called " the hideous face of Christianity." " There
is nothing," said the Algonquin ohiefs, " nothing more repulsive at first,
than this doctrine, that seems to exterminate all that men hold dearest.
Tour long gown preaches it as strongly as your lips; leave it, and go in a
short coat. Bourdon, thus associated with the life of Father Jogues, inter
married in the family to which Henry de Courcy, Esq., the talented and ami-
able author of the " Catholic Church in the United States," owes his origin.
t It would need but a slight change to make Lake George, Lake Jogues,
and surely its great discoverer deserves it, better than a Hanoverian king.

96 PERILS OF THE
to his generous benefactors, the embassy proceeded to the Mohawk.
The first castle was reached on the 7th of June ; its name had been
changed from Ossernenon, to One8ge8re.* Here Jogues was wel
comed as a friend ; a council of Sachems was soon convened ; he
delivered the presents of the Governor, and, in a discourse, still pre
served, urged them to thoughts of peace. He was heard with atten
tion, and responded to in a similar strain. According to Indian
custom, he presented a belt of wampum to the tribe, into* which he
had been incorporated. The Wolf replied that Ondessonk should
ever find among them his mat to rest upon, and a fire to warm him.
Another present was yet to be made. Jogues had remarked among
the spectators, some Onondaga braves, and to these, also, he made a
present, to smooth the way for the French to their land of lakes.
This was cheerfully accepted, and Jogues, no longer a temporal envoy,
turned to his spiritual avocations. The captive Christians were soon
visited and consoled, the sacraments of baptism or penance conferred
on many ; but he could not delay as long as his zeal desired. The
Iroquois pressed his departure, and, on the 16th, he left their castles
for the St. Lawrence. As he expected to return speedily, he left a
box containing his little missionary furniture ; the Mohawks showed
a disinclination to receive it, but, as he opened it in their presence, he
thought their suspicions dispelled, and went his way.
On his arrival in Canada, joy, such as had not been known for years,
quickened every heart, for all had been so suspicious of the Mohawks,
that public prayers had been constantly offered for the missionary
and his companion.
His immediate return to the Mohawk was now expected j but sud
denly there came mysterious rumors, and the Superiors paused.
Jogues must not go.f But, as the summer wore on, all became quiet,
and, yielding to his entreaty, the Superior permitted him to depart.
In September, 1646, he left Three Rivers for the last time, with
John Lalande, and some Hurons. As they went on, they heard
tidings which seemed positive as to the end of the peace ; some Hurons
left them, but Jogues went fearlessly on. After the return of these,
* The sign here used, and frequently employed by French missionaries,
is the Greek diphthong ou, and was used to express a short Indian sound,
which, at the beginning of a syllable, answers to our w, and, at the end, to
the sound of ou in Plymouth.
t Deoision in the Superior's journal.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 97
the French were left in the greatest anxiety and uncertainty as to
his fate. Months rolled by, and no tidings reached them ; at last,
almost at the same time, they heard from some Hurons who had
escaped from the Mohawk, an account of his death, and received
letters from Governor Kieft, which confirmed it.
The Indian account, as preserved in the manuscript of Father Bu-
teux and Father De Quen, is, that when the missionary was within
two days' march of the castles, that is, halfway between Lake George
and the Mohawk, he was met by a war party out against the French.
The missionary and his companion, were immediately seized, and, in
spite of his remonstrances, stripped and beaten ; they then turned
homeward, and Father Jogues was again led naked into Gandawague,*
the place of his former captivity. Blows were mingled with threats
of death on the morrow. " You shall not be burned," they cried,
" you shall die beneath our hatchets, and your heads shall be fixed
on our palisades, to show your brethren whom we take." In vain
did he endeavor to show them the injustice of treating him as an
enemy, when he came the messenger of peace. Deaf to the voice
of reason, and blinded by superstition, they began their butchery.
Slicing off the flesh from his arms and back, they cried, " Let us see
whether this white flesh is the flesh of an Otkon." " I am but a man
like yourselves," replied the dauntless missionary, " though I fear not
death nor your tortures. You do wrong to kill me. I have come
to your country to preserve peace, and strengthen the land, and to
show you the way to heaven, and you treat me like a dog ! Fear the
chastisement of Him, who rules both the Indian and the French."
In spite of their threats, his fate was undecided. Of. the three
great families in each tribe, the Bear was clamorous for blood, while

* Thus do all the French Relations from this time, name the place of his
death; it is the same as Cangnawaga; and means "at the rapids." P. Pon-
eet, in the narrative of his captivity on the Mohawk, makes the place of
Goupil's death, that of Jogues' also, to be the second village, the Andago
ron, or Gandagoron, of F. Jogues. The present Caughnawaga may, there
fore, be considered the place of the missionary's death, as we have nothing
to show that the village in question lay south of the Mohawk, although the
first village did. Caughnawaga became, too, in the sequel, the centre of
the most successful Catholic missions among the Iroquois, and is hallowed,
not only by the death of Jogues and Goupil, but by the birth of the sainted
Catharine Tebgakwita. It is our holy ground.

98 PERILSOFTHE
the Tortoise, and his own clan, the Wolf, declared that he should live.
A council was called in the largest town ; it was there decided that
he should be spared, but it was too late.
Towards evening, on the day after his arrival, some Indians of the
Bear family, came to invite him to supper ; he arose' to follow, but
scarce had he stooped to enter the lodge, when an Indian concealed
within sprang forward, and dealt him a terrible blow with his hatchet.
Kiotsaeton, the deputy, who had concluded the peace, threw up his
arm to avert the blow, but it cut through his arm, and sank deep in
the head of the missionary. His head was then cut off, and set on
the palisade. His companion shared his fate.
The letters from the Dutch authorities at New Amsterdam, wliich
reached Quebec on the 4th of June, 1647, are as follows :
" To M. De Montmagnx, Governor of New France.
"Monsieur, Monsieur,
I wrote a reply to that which you were pleased to
honor me with by Father de Jogues, dated May 15,
and I sent it to Fort Orange, to deliver it to said Father
de Jogues ; but he, not having returned as expected, it
was not immediately sent. This will serve then to
thank your excellency for your remembrance of me,
which I shall endeavor to return, if it please God to
give me an opportunity. I send this through the North
ern Section, by the Enghsh, or Monsieur d'Aunay, in
order to advise you of the massacre of F. Isaac de Jogues
and his companions, perpetrated by the barbarous and in
human Maquaas or Iroquois ; as also of their design to
surprise you, under color of a visit, as you wUl see by
the enclosed, which, though badly written and spelt, wiU,
to our great regret, give you aU the particulars. I am
sorry that the subject of this is not more agreeable ; but
the importance of the" affair has not permitted me to be

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 99
silent. Our Minister above carefully inquired of the
chiefs of this canaille, their reasons for the wretched act,
but he could get no ansAver from them but this, that the
said Father had left, among some articles that he had
left in their keeping, a devil who had caused all their
corn or maize to be eaten up by worms.* This is all I
can at present write to you. Praying God to vouchsafe to
guard you and yours from this treacherous nation, and
assuring you that I am
Your most humble and obedient servant.
William Kieft.
Fort Amsterdam, in New Netherland, >
November 14, 1646. J
Enclosure.
Praised be God at Fort Orange !
Monsieur, Monsieur La Montagne.
I have not wished to lose this occasion of letting you
know my state of health. I am in good health, thank
God, and pray God that it may be so with you and your
children. I have not much more, but how the French arrived
the seventeenth of this month, at the Maquaas Fort.
This is to let you know how those ungrateful barbarians
did not wait till they were fairly arrived at their cabins,
* The allusion here is to Dominie John Megapolensis, to whom the Indians
brought some of the books and clothes of the murdered missionary. The
friendship existing between his early representative of the Dutch church in
New York, and the Catholic missionaries, is one of the most pleasing inci
dents in this period. To his kind solicitude and subsequent hospitality,
two acknowledged that, next to God, they owed their lives. A correspon
dence was subsequently carried on between them, and the missionaries lost
no opportunity of expressing their gratitude, to so eminent a benefactor,
and his name is deservedly honored by the Catholics of New York.

100 PERILS OF THE
where they were stripped all naked, without shirt, only
they gave each a pair of drawers to cover decency.
The very day of their coming they began to threaten
them, and immediately, with fists and clubs, saying you
shall die to-morrow, do not be astonished, we shall not
burn you, take courage, we shall strike you with an axe,
and put your heads on the palisade, that your brothers
may see you yet, when we take them. You must know
that it was only the Bear nation that killed them.
Knowing that the Wolf and Tortoise tribes have done
all that they could to save their hves, and said against
the Bear, kill us first, but alas, they are no longer ahve.
Know then that the eighteenth, in the evening, they
came to call Isaac to supper. He got up and went away
with the savage to the Bear's lodge, as entering the lodge
there was a traitor with his hatchet behind the door.
On entering, he split open his head, and at the same time
cut off his head and put it on the palisade. The next
morning early he did the same with the other and threw
their bodies into the river. Monsieur, I have not been
able to know or hear from any savage why they killed them.
Besides this their envy and enterprise, they are going
with three or four hundred men to try and surprise the
French to do the same as they did to the others, but God
grant they don't accomplish their design.
It would be desirable that Monsieur should be warned,
but there is no way to do it from here. Monsieur, I
have no more to write, but 1 remain your very humble
and affectionate servant and friend,
Jan Labatie.*
* Labatie was the French interpreter at Albany, and had, with Van Curler,
visited the Mohawk castles, to rescue the missionary, in 1642.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 101
Monsieur, I beg you (give) my haisemains (respects)
to the Governor.
Written at Fort Orange, Oct. 30, 1646.
Such was the glorious close of the Missionary's zeal
ous career.
The day after the reception of the letters, a solemn
Mass of the Dead was offered up at Quebec ; but " we
could not," says Pagueneau, " bring ourselves to offer
for him the prayers of the dead. We offered the ador
able sacrifice, but in thanksgiving for the favors which
he had received from God. Laity and religious share our
sentiments on this happy death, and more were found
inchned to invoke his aid than to pray for his repose."
The Catholic clergy of our State may well be proud of
so illustrious a founder, for he was the first priest who
entered or labored in the city and State of New York.
His sufferings and toils now find a place in every his
tory of our country ; but we must not consider him as a
mere explorer of the wilderness, borne up perhaps by
religious enthusiasm. He was a man of deep and tender
piety, of extraordinary candor and openness of soul,
timid by nature, yet of tried courage and heroic firmness ;
a man who saw aU in God, and in all resigned himself
to the directing hand of Providence. To make God
known at the expense of personal suffering was his only
thought. In a word, he was one of those superior men
who rise from time to time in the Church so distin
guished from aU around by an impress of sanctity, by a
prestige of all Christian virtue, as to make us look without
astonishment on even miraculous powers in their hands.
These are not wanting in the case of Father Jogues.
9*

102 PERILS OF THE
Two miracles wrought soon after his death, seem suf
ficiently attested to warrant our belief, and we accord
ingly insert a brief account of them.
When the holy missionary fell, Kiotsaeton turned
away from the Mohawk as one disgraced. In the name of
the tribe he had pledged all to peace, and now that peace
was broken. He rambled to the wilderness, and after
many months appeared in the French settlements. He
told of all that had occurred, and announced his wish
to dwell with the French. Suspecting some treachery,
the Commandant of the French post sent him in a
vessel to Quebec, and for fear of his escape put him in
irons. The noble chief, beholding himself thus ill-
treated by those he sought as friends, turned in prayer
to the holy missionary, whose virtues he honored, and
whose death he had witnessed. Father Jogues was not
invoked in vain ; he burst the bonds of the chieftain,
and the French guards were amazed, in the morning, to
find him unshackled. When they learned how super-
naturally this had been accomplished, they banished
their suspicions, and thanked the Almighty, for the
power which he had bestowed upon his servant. At
Quebec, the Mohawk chief was honorably received, and,
proceeding to France, he was fully instructed and
baptized. In France, Father Jogues was regarded as a martyr ;
and, even in his life-time, things which he had used
were preserved as relics. At the Ursuline Convent at
Angers, Father Jogues had one day left a pair of gloves,
and when, some time after his glorious and happy death,
Sister Marie Prevosterie was seized with a dangerous
fever, accompanied by a swelling in the lower extremi-

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 103
ties, Mother Margaret Poussin, the Superior, urged her
to have recourse to the holy martyr. The nun did so ;
applying the relic to the swoUen limb ; during the
night the pain increased, but suddenly, at three o'clock
in the morning, the pain and swelling vanished, and
Sister Mary, rising from bed, hke one in health, pro
ceeded to the choir, to return thanks to God. No
symptom of disease appeared, till the same day, on the
following year ; but, on her entering the chapel, to
return thanks to God, the pain disappeared entirely.
Of this cure, an account drawn up on the spot, by
Mother Poussin, Sister Mary herself, and eight other
nuns, is still preserved; and Father du Creux, who
had visited the convent with Father Jogues, inserts an
account in his Latin history of Canada.
The missionaries of New France ever regarded as a
favor obtained by their martyred associate, the success
wliich the gospel met with at Caughnawaga, the vil
lage where he received his crown. Here a Mohawk
church was first formed, renowned for the piety and fer
vor of those who composed it, and here the Christians
first acquired any weight by numbers. This village
was, too, the birth-place of Catharine Tehgahkwita, whose
hohness was attested by so many miracles, and whose
veneration is stiU so great in Canada.

104 PERILS OF THE

CHAPTEE V.
CAPTIVITY OF FATHER EBANCIS JOSEPH BBESSANI.
Father Francis Joesph Bressani, whose narrative we are next to
give, was born at Rome, and, at the early age of fifteen, entered the
Society of Jesus. After the usual period of probation and study,
he was engaged in teaching, and successively filled the chairs of Lit
erature, Philosophy, and Mathematics ; but, having conversed with
some members of the French province, then at Rome, he became
inflamed with zeal for the foreign missions, and was, at last, gratified
by being selected for that of Canada. He immediately set out for
France, in order to take shipping for his destination ; and, though
warned on his way, by a pious nun, of the sufferings that awaited
him, he resolutely advanced, and embarking, reached Quebec in the
summer of 1642. He was employed at first in the city, and the
following year, as missionary to the Algonquins at Three Rivers ; but,
in the spring of 1644, was appointed to proceed to the Huron
country, then so destitute of missionaries, and with missionaries so
destitute of every necessary of life. We have seen how Father
Jogues courageously exposed himself to procure his companion's
relief, and how fearfully he suffered in the hands of the terrible
Mohawks. Two years more had elapsed, and the Superior at Que
bec resolved to make another effort to relieve the Huron Fathers, —
to give them clothes to replace their rags, and flour and wine to
enable them to say Mass. Father Bressani was not unaware of the
dangers, but set out with a brave heart, on the 27th of April, 1644.
He was not, however, fully aware of the position of affairs ; the
whole colony was surrounded by war parties of the enemy, who be
set every road, and watched from every highland, like eagles to
pounce on their prey. Meanwhile, the missionary advanced in his
canoe from Quebec, with one French companion, and six Huron
neophytes, of whom we know the names of three : Henry Stontrats,

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 105
Michael Atioquendoron, and Bernard Gotrioskon. On the third
day, when near the little Riviere aux Glaises, not far from Fort
Richelieu, the modern Sorel, they were attacked and made
prisoners. Father Bressani thus describes his capture and subse
quent sufferings : —
Most reverend Father in Jesus Christ.
Pax Christi — I know not whether your Paternity
wiU recognize the hand-writing of a poor cripple once
quite weU in body, and weU known to you. His letter
is badly written and soUed enough, because among other
miseries the writer has but one whole finger on his right
hand, and can scarcely prevent the paper's being stained
by the blood which flows from his yet uncicatrized
wounds. His ink is diluted gunpowder, and his table
the bare ground. He writes to you from the land of the
Iroquois, where he is now a prisoner, and would briefly
relate the conduct of Divine Providence in his regard
these later days.
I set out from Three Rivers by order of my superiors,
the 27th of April last, (1644,) in company with six Chris
tian Indians, and a young Frenchman, who in three
canoes were going up to the Huron country.
On the evening of the first day, the Hulon who steered
our canoe upset us in Lake St. Pierre, by firing at an
eagle. I did not know how to swim, but two Hurons
caught me and drew me to the shore where we spent the
night with our clothes all wet. The Hurons took this
accident for an Ul-omen, and advised me to return to
Three Rivers, which was only eight or ten mUes off; " cer
tainly, they cried, this voyage wUl not prove fortunate."
As I feared that there might be some superstitious

106 PERILS OF THE
thought in this resolution, I preferred to push on to
another French fort,* thirty miles higher up, where
we might recruit a little. They obeyed me, and we
started quite early the next morning, but the snow and
the bad weather greatly retarded our speed, and compelled
us to stop at mid-day.
On the third day, when twenty-two or twenty -four
miles from Three Rivers, and seven or eight from Fort
Richelieu, we fell into an ambuscade of twenty-seven
Iroquois, who killed one of our Indians, and took the
rest and myself prisoners.
We might have fled or even killed some Iroquois, but,
when I saw my companions taken, I thought it better
not to forsake them ; I looked upon the disposition of
our Indians as a mark of the will of God ; choosing, as
they did, to surrender .rather than seek safety by flight.
After binding us, they uttered horrid cries, " sicut
exultant victores capta praeda," " as conquerors rejoice
after taking a prey," (Isaias ix. 3,) and made a thanks
giving to the Sun for having delivered into their hands,
a Blackgown, as they call the Jesuits. They entered
our canoes and seized all their contents, consisting of
provisions for the missionaries residing among the
Hurons, who were in extreme want, inasmuch as they
had for several years received no aid from Europe.
They next commanded us to sing, then led us to a little
river hard by, where they divided the booty, and scalped
the Huron whom they had killed. The scalp was to be
carried in triumph on the top of a pole. They cut off
the feet, hands, and most fleshy parts of the body to eat,
as well as the heart. * Fort Richelieu.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 107
The fifth day they made us cross the lake to pass the
night in a retired but very damp spot. We there began
to take our sleep tied on the ground in the open air, as
we continued to do during the rest of our voyage.
My consolation was to think that we were doing the
wUl of God, since I had undertaken this voyage only
through obedience. I was fuU of confidence in the
intercession of the Blessed Virgin, and the help of so
many souls who prayed for me.
The foUowing day we embarked on a river,* and after
some mUes they ordered me to throw 'overboard my
papers which they had left me till then. They super-
stitiously imagined that they had made our canoe burst
open. They were surprised to see me grieved at this
loss, who had never shown any regret for all else. We
were two days in ascending this river to the faUsf which
compelled us to land and march six days in the woods.
The next day wliich was a Friday, (May 6,) we met
some Iroquois going out to fight. They added some
blows to the terrible threats they made ; but the account
which they gave to our keepers, of the death of one of
their party lolled by a Frenchman, was a ground for
their commencing to treat us with much greater cruelty.
At the moment of our capture the Iroquois were dying
of hunger ; so that in two or three days they consumed
aU our provisions, and we had no food, during the rest of
the way, but from hunting, fishing, or some wUd roots
which they found. Their want was so great that they
picked up on the shore a dead beaver already putrefying.
They gave it to me in the evening to wash in the river,
but, its stench leading me to beheve that they did not
* Richelieu or Sorel. t Rapids of Chambly.

108 PERILS OF THE
want it, I threw it into the water. This blunder of mine
I expiated by a vigorous penance.
I wiU not here relate aU I had to suffer in that voyage.
It is enough to say that we had to carry our loads in the
woods by unbeaten roads, where there is nothing but
stones, thorns, holes, water and snow, which had not yet
entirely disappeared. We were bare-footed, and were
left fasting sometimes till three or four o'clock in the
afternoon, and often during the whole day, exposed to
the rain, and drenched with the waters of the torrents
and rivers which we had at times to cross.
When evening was come, I was ordered to go for
wood, to bring water, and cook when they had any pro
visions. When I did not succeed, or misunderstood
the orders which I received, blows were not spared ;
stUl less when we met other savages going to fish or
hunt. It was not easy for me to rest at night, because they
tied me to a tree, leaving me exposed to the keen night
air, still cold enough at that period.
We at last arrived at the Lake of the Iroquois, (Lake
Champlain.) We had to make other canoes, in which
I too was to do my part. After five or six days' sail
ing, we landed, and marched for three more.
The fourth day, which was the fifteenth of May, we
arrived about 20 o'clock, (3 1-4 P. M.,) and before
having as yet taken any food, at a river on the banks of
which some four hundred savages were gathered, fish
ing. Hearing of our approach, they came out to meet
us, and, when about two hundred paces from their cab
ins, they stripped off all my clothes, and made me
march ahead. The young men formed a line to the

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 109
right and left, each armed with a club, except the first
one, who held a knife in his hand.
When I began my march, this one stopped my pas
sage, and, seizing my left hand, cleft it open with his
knife between the little finger and the next, with
such force and violence that I thought he would lay
open my whole hand. The others then began to load
me with blows tUl I reached the stage which they had
erected for our torture. We had to mount on these
rough pieces of bark, raised about nine palms high, so
as to give the crowd an opportunity to see and insult us.
I was all drenched in blood, that streamed from every
part of my body, and the wind to which we were ex
posed was cold enough to congeal it immediately on my
skin. What consoled me much was, to see that God granted
me the grace of suffering some little pain in this world,
instead of the incomparably far greater torments, which
I should have had to suffer for my sins in the next
world. The warriors came next, and and were received by
the savages with great ceremony^ and regaled with the
best of all that their fishing supphed.
They bade us sing. Judge whether we could, fast
ing, worn down by marching, broken by their blows,
and shivering from head to foot with cold.
Shortly after, a Huron slave brought me a little In
dian corn, and a captain who saw me all trembling with
cold, at last, at my entreaty, gave me back the half of
an old summer cassock aU in tatters, which served only
to cover, but not to warm me.
We had to sing till the departure of the braves, and
10

110 PERILS OF THE
were then left at the mercy of the youth, who made us
come down from the scaffold where we had been about
two hours, to make us dance in their fashion, and
because I did not succeed, nor was indeed able, these
young people beat me, pricked me, plucked out my
hair, my beard, etc.
They kept us five or six days in this place for their
pastime, leaving us entirely at the discretion or indis
cretion of every one. We were obhged to obey even
the children, and that in things unreasonable, and often
contradictory. " Sing," cries one ; " Hold your tongue,"
says another ; if I obeyed the first, the latter tormented
me. " Stretch out your hand ; I want to burn it."
Another burnt it because I did not extend it to him.
They commanded me to take fire between the fingers
to put in their pipes, full of tobacco, and then let it fall
on the ground purposely four or five times, one after
another, to make me burn myself, picking it' up each
time. These scenes usually took place at night ; for,
towards evening, the captains cried in a fearful voice
around the cabins, " Gather ye young men, come and
caress our prisoners."
On this, they flocked together, and assembled in some
large cabin. There the remnant of dress which had
been given me was torn off, leaving me naked ; then
some goaded me with pointed sticks ; some burnt me
with firebrands, or red-hot stones, while others used
burning ashes, or hot coals. They made me walk
around the fire on hot ashes, under which they had
stuck sharp sticks in the ground. Some plucked out
my hair, others my beard.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. Ill
Every night, after making me sing, and tormenting
me as above, they spent about a quarter of an hour in
burning one of my nails or a finger. Of the ten that I
had, I have now but one left whole, and even of that,
they have torn out the nail with their teeth. One even
ing, they took off a nail ; the next day the first joint ;
the day after, the second. By the sixth time, they
burned almost six. To the hands merely they applied
fire and iron more than eighteen times, and, during this
torment, I was obhged to sing. They ceased torturing
me only at one or two o'clock at night. They then
usually left me tied to the ground in some spot exposed
to the rain, with no bed or blanket, but a smaU skin
which did not cover half my body, and often even with
out any covering ; for they had already torn up the
piece of a cassock which had been given me. Yet out
of compassion they left me enough to cover what
decency, even among them, requires to be concealed.
They kept the rest.
For a whole month, we had to undergo these cruel
ties, and greater still, but we remained only eight days
in the first place. I never would have believed that
man had so hard a life.
One night, that they were as usual torturing me,
a Huron, taken prisoner with me, seeing one of his com
panions escape torments by siding against me, suddenly
cried out, in the middle of the assembled throng, that I
was a person of rank, and a captain among the French.
This they heard with great attention ; then, raising a
loud shout in sign of joy, they treated me still worse.
The next morning, I was condemned to be burnt alive,
and to be eaten. They then began to guard me more

112 PERILS OP THE
narrowly. The men and children never left me alone,
even for natural necessity, but came tormenting me to
force me to return to the cabin with all speed, fearing
that I might take flight.
We left there the 26th of May ; and, four days after,
reached the first towns of this nation. In this march
on foot, what with rain and other hardships, I suffered
more than I had yet done. The savage then my keeper
was more cruel than the first.
I was beaten, weak, ill-fed, half-naked, and slept in
the open air, tied to a tree or post, shivering all night
from cold, and the pain caused by my bonds.
In difficult places, my weakness called for help, but
it was refused, and, even when I fell, renewing my
pain, they showered blows on me again to force me to
march ; for they believed that I did it purposely to lag
behind, and so escape.
One day, among others, I fell into a stream and was
like to have drowned. I got out, I know not how, and
in this plight had to march nearly six miles more till
evening, with a very heavy burthen on my shoulders.
They laughed at myself and my awkwardness in faUing
into the water, yet this did not hinder their burning
another of my nails that night.
We at last reached the first village of this nation, and
here our reception resembled the first, but was still more
cruel. Besides blows from their fists and clubs, which
I received in the most sensitive parts of my body — they
a second time slit open my left hand, between the
middle and fore fingers, and the bastinade was such,
that I feU half dead on the ground. I thought I had
lost my right eye forever. As I did not rise, because I

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 113
was unable to do so, they continued to beat me, espec
iaUy on the breast and head. I should surely have
expired beneath their blows, had not a captain hterally
dragged me out by main strength, up to a stage, made
like the former one, of bark. There, they soon after,
cut off the middle and mangled the fore finger of my
left hand. But at the same moment the rain, attended
with thunder and Ughtning, fell in such torrents, that
the savages retired, leaving us exposed naked to the
storm, tiU an Indian, I know not whom, took pity on us,
and in the evening took us into his cabin.
We were at this point, tormented with more cruelty
and audacity than ever, and without leaving us a mo
ment's rest. They forced me to eat all kinds of filth,
and burnt one of my fingers and the still remaining naUs.
They dislocated my toes, and ran a fire-brand through
one of my feet. I know" not what they did not attempt
another time, but I pretended to faint, so as to seem not
to see an indecent action.
After glutting their cruelty here, they sent us into
another village, nine or ten mUes further. Here they
added to the torments of which I have spoken, that of
hanging me up by the feet, either in cords or with
chains, given them by the Dutch. By night I lay
stretched on the ground, naked and bound, according
to their custom, to several stakes, by the feet, hands, and
neck. The torments which I had to suffer in this state,
for six or seven nights, were in such places, and of such
a description, that it is not lawful to describe them, nor
could they be read without blushing. I never closed
my eyes those nights, which, though the shortest in the
year, seemed to me most long. My God ! what wiU
10*

114 PERILS OF THE
Purgatory then be ? This consideration greatly aUeviated
my pains.
After such a treatment, I became so infectious and
horrible, that all drew off from me as from carrion,
approaching me only to torment. Scarce could I find
one charitable enough to put some food in my mouth,
for I could use neither of my hands, which were enor
mously swollen, and a mass of corruption. Thus I
had to suffer famine too. I was reduced to eat raw
Indian corn, not without danger of my health. Neces
sity made me even find some relish in chewing chalk,
although it was impossible to swallow it.
I was covered with vermin, unable to deliver or shield
myself from them. Worms were breeding in my
wounds, and one day, more than four fell from one of
my fingers.
" I have said to rottenness, Thou art my father ; to
worms, you are my mother and my sister." — Job xvii.
14. " I became a burthen to myself," so that, had I
consulted but my own feelings, I should have " esteemed
that to die was gain."
An abscess had formed in my right leg, in consequence
of the blows I had received there, and my frequent
falls. It gave me no rest, especially after I was- no
longer anything but skin and bone, with no bed but
the bare ground. The savages had, though unsuccess
fully, several times endeavored to open it with sharp
stones, causing me most intense pain. The apostate
Huron, who had been taken with me, had now to act
as my surgeon. The day, which, according to my
ideas, was the eve of my death, he opened it with four
gashes of a knife. The blood and matter gushed out

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 115
so abundantly, and emitted such a stench, that it drove
all the savages from the cabin.
I desired and expected death, though not without
experiencing some horror for the torture by fire. Yet
I prepared to the best of my power, commending my
self to the heart of the Mother of mercy, who is truly,
the " Lovely, admirable, powerful, clement Mother, the
comfortress of the afflicted." She was, after God, the
only refuge of a poor sinner, abandoned by all creatures,
in a foreign land, in this place of horror and vast soli
tude, without speech to give utterance to his thoughts,
without a friend to console him, without sacraments to
fortify him, without any human remedy to alleviate his
woes. The Huron and Algonquin prisoners, (these latter are
called our Indians,) instead of consoling me, were the
first to make me suffer in order to please the Iroquois.
I did not see our good Wilham Couture until after my
dehverance. The child captured with me had been car
ried off from the moment that they perceived me making
him say his prayers, which displeased them. They tor
mented him also, and, though he was but twelve or
thirteen years old, they tore off five of his nails with
their teeth. On reaching their country, they had tied
his wrists with small cords, drawn as tight as they could
so as to give him exquisite pain. They did all this
before my eyes to augment my suffering. 0! how
differently we then value many things which are usually
so esteemed ! God grant that I may remember and profit
by it.
My days then were thus filled up with sufferings, and
my nights were spent without repose ; this caused me

116 PERILS lOP THE
even to count, in the month, five days more than there
were, but, looking at the moon one night, I corrected
my error.
I was ignorant why the savages so long deferred my
death. They told me that it was to fatten me before
they ate me ; though they took no means to do so.
My fate was at last decided. On the nineteenth of
June, which I deemed the last of my life, I begged a
captain to put me to death, if possible, otherwise than
by fire ; but another chief exhorted him to stand firm in
the resolution already taken. The first then told me
that I was to die neither by fire nor by any other torture.
I could not beheve it, nor do I know whether he spoke
in earnest, yet true it was. Such was the will of God,
and of the Virgin Mother, to whom I acknowledge my
self indebted for my life, and, what I esteem more highly,
for a great fortitude amid my woes. May it please the
Divine Majesty that this redound to his greater glory
and my good.
The savages themselves were extremely surprised at
this result, so contrary was it to their intentions, as they
avowed to me, and as the Dutch have written. I was
therefore given, with all the usual ceremonies, to an old
woman to replace her grandfather, formerly kUled by
the Hurons, but instead of having me burnt as all desired,
and had aheady resolved, she redeemed me from their
hands at the expense of some beads, which the French
call porcelaine.*
I live here in the midst of the shadows of death.
They can be heard speaking of nothing but murder and
* Called in English, Wampum.,

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 117
assassination. They have recently murdered one of their
own countrymen in his own cabin, as useless and unwor
thy to hve.
I have always something to suffer ; my wounds are
still open ; and many of the savages look upon me
with no kindly eye. True then it is that we cannot
live without crosses ; yet this is like sugar in com
parison with the past.
The Dutch gave me hopes of my ransom, and that of
the boy taken prisoner with me. God's will be done
in time and eternity ! My hope wUl be stiU more con
firmed, if you grant me a share in your holy sacrifices
and prayers, and those of our Fathers and Brothers,
especiaUy of those who knew me in other days.
Territory of the Iroquois, July 15, 1644.

The missionary, at that period, found no opportunity of sending
the letter, so that it reached Europe, together with others which we
insert here, in the order in which they were written.

I have found no one, says the second letter, to
take charge of the inclosed, so that you will receive
it at the same time as the present one, which will
give you the news of my deliverance from the hands
of the savages, whose captive I was. I am indebted
for it to the Dutch, and they obtained it with no great
difficulty, for a very moderate ransom, on account of
the httle value which the Indians attached to me, from
my unhandiness at every thing, as well as from their
conviction that my sores would never heal.
I have been twice sold, first to the old woman who

118 PERILS OF THE
was to have me burnt, and next to the Dutch dear
enough, that is, for about fifteen or twenty doppies.*
I chanted my going out from Egypt the nineteenth
of August, that is, the third day of the Octave of the
Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, whom I regarded as
my hberator. I was a prisoner among the Iroquois for
four months ; but small is that compared to what my
sins deserve. I was unable, during my captivity, to
render to any of those wretched beings, in return for
the evil they did me, the good which was the object of
my desires ; that is, impart to them a knowledge of the
true God. To supply my ignorance of their language,
I endeavored, by means of a prisoner as my interpreter,
to instruct a dying old man ; but pride made him deaf
to my words. He replied, that a man of his age and
rank should teach others, not receive their lessons. I
asked him whither he would go after his death. " To
the west," he answered ; and then began to recount the
fables and follies which unfortunately, blinded by the
devil, they take for the most solid truths.
I baptized none but a Huron. They had brought
him where I was to burn him, and those who guarded
me told me to go and see him. I did so with some
reluctance ; for they had told me that he was not one
of our Indians, and that I could not understand him.
I advanced towards the crowd which opened, and let
me approach this man, even then all disfigured by
torments. He was stretched on the bare ground, with
nothing to rest his head upon. Seeing a stone near me,
I pushed it with my foot towards his head, to serve him
* A doppie is a piece of gold worth about three dollars and a half.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 119
as a piUow. He then looked up at ine attentively, and
some hairs still left in my beard, or some other mark,
made him suppose I was a foreigner. " Is not this
man," said he to his keeper, " the white man whom
you hold captive ? " Being answered affirmatively, he
again cast towards me a most piteous look. " Sit down,
brother, by me," said he, " I would speak with thee."
I sat down, though not without horror, such was the
odor that exhaled from his already half-roasted body.
Happy to be able to understand him a little, because he
spoke Huron, I asked him what he desired, hoping to
be able to profit by the occasion to instruct and bap
tize him. To my great consolation, I was anticipated
by the answer. " What dost thou want ? " said I.
" I ask but one thing, baptism, as quickly as possible,
for the time is short." I wished to question him as
to the faith, so as not to administer a sacrament with
precipitation ; but I found him perfectly instructed,
having been already received among the Catechumens
in the Huron country. I therefore most willingly bap
tized him, to his and my own great satisfaction. Though
I had administered this sacrament by a kind of strat
agem, using the water which they had given me for
him to drink, the Iroquois perceived it. The captains
were at once informed, and, with angry threats, drove
me from the hut, and then began to torture him as
before. They finally burnt him alive the next morning, and,
as I had baptized him, they brought all his members,
one by one, into the cabin where I was. Before my
eyes, they skinned and ate the feet and hands. The
husband of the mistress of the lodge threw at my feet

120 PERILS OF THE
the victim's head, and left it there a long while, reproach
ing me with what I had done, and exclaiming : " Well,
now, of what use were all thy enchantments ? " — allud
ing to the baptism and prayers which I had offered with
him. " Have they rescued him from death ? "
At that moment, I felt a deep regret that I was una
ble, from ignorance of their language, -to speak to them
of the virtue and effects of baptism on so fair an oppor
tunity, but the hour was not yet come. Their sins,
and, above all, their pride, present a great obstacle
to the grace of God, " who hath regard to the hum
ble, and looketh at the proud from afar." They aU
esteem themselves as heroes and warriors, and look
with contempt on the Europeans, whom they consider
as a vile and cowardly race. They believe themselves
destined to subjugate the world. " They are become
vain in their thoughts, and, as God has abandoned
them to the desires of then- hearts," (Romans i. 21,)
your prayers, your sacrifices, and the prayers of the
whole society, which is ever praying for the conver
sion of infidels, will be able to induce the Almighty
to cast a look of pity on them, and, at the same time,
on me, especially amid the perils of the sea, to which
I am about to be exposed. Be assured that, sound
or cripple, I shall ever be, Father, your unworthy and
humble servant,
Francis Joseph Bressani.
New Amsterdam, August 31st, 1644.
The third letter is written from the isle of Rhe, under date of tha
sixteenth of November, of the same year. The missionary solicits
prayers to thank God for his dehverance, not only from the hands of
the Iroquois, but also from the fury of the sea where they had met

ocean and wilderness. 121
with terrible storms, and, among others one, says the letter of the
twenty-seventh of September, which was frightful. It lasted more
than twenty-four hours, and compelled them to cut away the vessel's
masts. Then he adds :

" A Turkish corsair pursued us for several days
together. My companions on board were Huguenots,
who did not fail to be displeased with the very name of
a Papist and a Jesuit. The cabin where I lay had but
four partitions, and its size did not permit one to stretch
out at full length. We ran out of provisions, and even
of water, on the passage ; but, if you except the sea
sickness, which did not spare me, I was always well,
and, after fifty-five days of difficult navigation, I reached
the isle of Rhe in the garb of a sailor, in better health
than I have enjoyed during the eighteen years and
more that I have been in the Society. I was obliged to
beg alms on landing, which was a greater interior con
solation to me than can be imagined, thank God."
I omit a thousand other particulars, which do not belong to the
dangers from the Iroquois, as the circumstances of his ransom, the
welcome given him by the Dutch, etc. ; but I cannot omit here his
last letter which he wrote after his return to France, at the instance
of several persons, persuaded that this digression will afford a just
subject of edification. It is as follows :
" You have put me some questions as to my captivity
in the country of the Iroquois, and so earnestly, and
adducing such motives, that, from the consideration I
owe you, I cannot dechne answering them. I will do
it then with my usual frankness.
First Question. Why did the Iroquois maltreat me
n

122 PERILS OP THE
so ? Because they looked upon me as their enemy, not
for being a European, for they are friends of the Dutch
Europeans like ourselves ; but because we are the
friends and protectors of the Indians, whom we labor
to convert, and with whom they refuse peace, whUe we
maintain it, to gain them to God. So that the first
cause of this hatred, is the faith which obliges us to
remain united to our neophytes, even at the peril of
our life, and to become indirectly the enemies of the
Iroquois. " If you love our souls as much as you say,"
said the Huron, " love our bodies too, and let us form
but one nation. Our enemies shaU be yours ; we shall
share the same dangers."
Add to this the hatred which the Iroquois have for
our holy faith, which they call, and beheve to be, witch
craft. This is the reason why, quite recently, they pro
longed for eight days, instead of one only, to which
they commonly limit it, the torture of a Christian
Indian, who publicly gloried in his faith. His name
was Joseph Onahre ; he expired amidst the most cruel
torments. They especially hold in horror the sign of the cross,
because the Dutch have made them beheve it to be a
real superstition. It was the cause of the death of
Rene Goupil, the companion of Father Jogues, and the
motive that induced them to separate from me, the boy
whom I was teaching to make it with other prayers.
Yet even though the faith, which we seek to intro
duce into these parts be the cause of the hatred and
tortures of the Iroquois, I could not have hesitated to
brave these dangers for the good of souls. In fact, if
we deem it a meritorious act to brave the pestilence,

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 123
even with the sole object of relieving the body, should
I not deem myself but too happy, did God grant me
the grace to lose my life in succoring and converting
souls. All those who come to Canada, and especially
those sent among the Hurons, face these dangers ; and
if, from fear of Iroquois torments, or other motive, no
one possessed courage enough for this, that ill-starred
nation would end with being entirely forsaken, and
deprived of aU spiritual succor. Worthy, then, of
envy are those who there find their death. To speak
the truth, what consoled me, was less this consideration
than the thought that God and obedience had placed
me there. I implored him to accept my sacrifice, as
he accepted that of the good thief, finding myself more
guilty than that happy crucified one, and punished like
him, but for sins greater than his. I called to mind
the doctrine of the Council of Trent, (Session 14,
chapter 9,) which says that the accepting of sufferings,
even though inevitable and necessary, doth satisfy the
justice of God, and the chastisement which sins deserve.
I should have been reluctant to answer the second
question, which concerns my interior, did I not know
that it is glorious "to reveal and confess the works of
God." " Opera Dei revelare el confiteri, honorificum
est," and did I not hope thereby to cooperate with your
devotion. I shaU tell you then, in all sincerity, what
are the three graces and signal favors which God vouch
safed me at this time. The first is, that though I was
every moment within an inch of death, which was con
stantly before my eyes, my mind always enjoyed the
same liberty, and I was able to do each action with due
reflection ; if, then, I have erred in anything, it cannot

124 PERILS OF THE
be attributed to inadvertence, which might have resulted
from the weakness of my head, or the trouble which
fear inspires, but to an inexcusable malice. My body
was in an utter helplessness. I could scarcely open
my lips to say Our Father, while interiorly I acted
with as much liberty and facility as I do now.
The second grace which I obtained, was to prepare
my soul, so that it accommodated itself, that in propor
tion to the dangers and sorrows which increased around
me, my interior dispositions changed, and I felt less
horror for death and the fire.
The third, was the excluding from my heart even
the slightest feeling of indignation against my torturers,
and the inspiring me even with sentiments of compas
sion for them. The grace was measured by my weak
ness and little virtue. I said to myself, on seeing them,
" This man (would to God it were given to me to res
cue him by my blood !) will be far differently tormented
in hell, while I hope to succeed in effacing some of my
sins by the slight sufferings I undergo." He is then
to be pitied, not I.
I have thus answered your second question.
Third. I take up the third question, which is, What
were my occupations, and what consolation I found, or
what was sent me from heaven in my miseries ? I had
formerly relished St. Bernard's paraphrase on these
words of the Apostle, " Non sunt condigna passionis,"
etc., and in that hour it afforded me much consolation.
" The sufferings of this hfe bear no proportion to my
past faults, which God pardons me, to the consolations
which he bestows on me here below, or to the glory
which he promises me hereafter." Surely my suffer-

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 125
ing were a mere nothing compared to so immense a
gain. Momentaneum et leve tribulationis nostra.
Yet do not imagine that I was insensible to' pain. I
felt it acutely, but I had inwardly such strength to bear
it, that I was astonished at myself, or rather at the
adundance of grace, a favor, I believe, like that which
David experienced, when he said, In tribulatione dila-
tasti mihi — " In tribulation thou hast dilated my heart."
I esteem this grace more highly than that of my deliv
erance, et de omni tribulatione eripuisti me, "and from
every tribulation hast thou rescued me."
The goodness 6f God, whom we have offended, must
be very great, since he is satisfied with such a trifle for
a debt so immense, and accepts the pains of this life,
instead of the torments of purgatory. " How good is
the God of Israel to the pure of heart ! " and, what is
greater still, to the wicked in heart. Quam bonus
Israel Deus- his qui recti sunt et his qui iniquo sunt
corde. Yet some interior pains I did feel, though not at the
time of my torture, which I dreaded much more before
I suffered them than whUe I actually underwent them.
Often, indeed, I found them more horrid, when gazing
upon others endure them, than when enduring them
myself. My interior pains were doubts as to faith, a tempta
tion which I now beheve common at the hour of death,
not only by my own experience, but especially because
the reason becomes clearer as each one dies. Man,
then, seeing himself actuaUy, at that moment, forsaken,
as it were, by creatures, can find consolation only in
the thought of God and a paradise, that await him.
n*

126 PERILS OF THE
Then the fiend, to trouble our joy, weaken our hope,
and, to use the scriptural expression, mingle our wine
with water, (vinum tuum mixtum est aqua,) raises
doubts on all these truths. But the goodness of God,
who " bringeth down to heU, and bringeth back again,"
(1 Kings ii. 6,) — deducit ad inferos et reducit — did not
forsake me. It suggested for myself the advice I would
myself have given another on such an occasion, and I
found my soul filled with great peace and tranquilhty.
I made a journey of several miles one day, reciting
no other prayer than the Creed, and experienced so
much consolation, that this march, otherwise painful,
both in itself, and on account of a very heavy load that
I carried, seemed to me quite short.
As to my occupations, you speak either of interior, of
which I have not spoken, or of exterior, and these were
given me by my tormentors. I passed a great part of
the day in their cabins, or on their stages, where I was
a but for the insults and railleries, not of men merely,
but of children, who left me not one or two hours even
of rest, day or night. The usual conversation was —
" We will burn thee ; we will eat thee ; I 'U eat a
foot — I a hand," etc.
You wish to know, in the fourth place, whether I
did not find some Indians more compassionate towards
me, or at least less cruel, than the others. I have no
doubt that such there were ; but none dared give ex
pression to this feehng for fear of contempt ; for, among
them, it is a proof of bravery to torment a prisoner cru
elly, and a mark of cowardice to show compassion for
his sufferings.
One evening, when, for the last time, they were

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 127
burning the third finger of my right hand, instead of
singing, as they bade me, I intoned the Miserere, but
in so horrible a voice that I alarmed them. They all
listened with attention, and the one that was burning
me then remitted some of the cruelty with which he
had begun ; yet he continued for fear of being laughed
at. I thought my last hour had come, so great was the
excess of my pain. I began to exhort our Huron pris
oners to suffer with courage, and, above all, by a senti
ment of faith, telhng them that the hope of Paradise
dehvered me from the fear of death. They promised
to do so, and two of them, who were soon after roasted
at a slow fire and eaten, kept their word. I had heard
their confessions before their execution.
It is a great torment to be bound tight with cords,
and I had not yet weU understood it, when meditat
ing on the passion of our Lord. In this position, it
was absolutely impossible for me to close my eyes, and
yet they left me thus the whole night. At daybreak,
I prayed some one to unbind me ; if he perceived
that the eyes of others were upon him, he ridiculed,
instead of relieving me, so as not to draw upon him
self the reproach of cowardice, but, when he could do
it unseen, I was actually reheved.
Certain it is that, had they all been cruel to the same
degree, I should have died of hunger ; for, not having
the use of my hands, food had to be given to me.
Many, instead of putting into my mouth the kind of
polenta, which was my food, let it faU on my breast,
or threw hot coals on my skin ; but others, moved with
compassion, came and threw them off on the ground, and
gave me, though sparingly, wherewith to maintain life.

128 PERILS OF THE
The last question was this : " Why did I not labor to
render them more humane ? " To seek to render them
more humane is to provoke them. I told them, one
day, that my bonds were too tight, and that I should
die by that torture, and not by fire as they threatened.
The consequence was, that they drew the cords tighter.
" Well," said they, then laughing at me, " are you
better off now ? " making, as is their wont, a frequent
use of bitter irony.
I have forgotten to say that they did not leave me
in the evening till I expected to die that very night,
so feeble did I feel ; yet, by a special providence of
God, no sooner had they unbound me in the morn
ing than I closed my eyes, and dreamt that I was per
fectly healed. Although I endeavored to banish this
thought, as a temptation capable of diverting me from
the salutary thought of death, and, in sleep, several
times made the reflection that it was but a dream, I
was unable to convince myself of it, and, on waking,
examined whether it was really so or not.
This thought, dream though it was, so roused my
courage that, after one or two hours' rest, I felt full of
life and vigor to suffer as I did the first day.
Here ends the letter.
The missionary who wrote this letter can give still
another proof of the dangers which beset these voyages
from this race of brigands. In four voyages, which
obedience and the wants of the mission required him to
make at different times into those parts, he fell in with
them three times, and was wounded by them anew.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 129
Thus does Father Bressani modestly, and under the cover of
an anonyme, relate his captivity and perils ; but we will be pardoned
for adding a few words as to his subsequent labors.
Father Bressani had not, however, abandoned his Canadian mission j
sufferings had not alarmed him ; they only bound him more closely to
that field of his choice. He returned immediately to Quebec, and,
having been present at a treaty of peace, concluded with the Mohawks
on the 17th of July, 1645, set out in the fall for the Huron mission.
" There," says Father Raguenau, then Superior of the Missionaries in
that country, " his mutilated head, his mangled hands, his body cov
ered with wounds, rendered him, from his very coming, a better
preacher than us all." He remained here, laboring with all zeal, till
1648, when, foremost in the hour of danger, he set out for Quebec
with a party, who attempted to reach Quebec, and open a communi
cation with that post, for the Iroquois were again ravaging the coun
try. Almost in sight of Three Rivers they were attacked by the
Mohawks, but the Hurons were prepared, and the assailants paid
bitterly for their rashness, the whole Mohawk party was taken, cut to
pieces, and the Hurons and their missionaries entered Three Rivers in
triumph. Proceeding to Quebec, Father Bressani was joined by
Father Gabriel Lalemant, the future martyr, Father James Bonin,
Father Adrian Grelon, who died in China, and Father Adrian Daran,
and with these proceeded, in August, to the Huron country. Arriv
ing, they found that the Iroquois, both Mohawks and Senecas, had
burst upon the Huron villages, destroyed Teananstayae, and massacred
the missionary, Father Anthony Daniel. The missionaries rallied the
survivors around them, but when, in the following spring, the Iroquois
destroyed the towns of St. Ignatius and St. Louis, butchering Father
Lalemant and Father Brebeuf, the Huron nation dispersed. Father
Bressani proceeded with a part to an island on Lake Huron, now called
Charity Island, but, as sickness and want soon thinned their ranks, he
descended to Quebec again, in the fall of 1649, with a part of them.
He reached his destination, but could never return ; in the following
year, however, he set out with a strong party to escort to Quebec all
the Hurons who would emigrate to the Lower St. Lawrence. On
the Ottawa they were attacked by the Mohawks. Father Bressani,
who gave the alarm, received three arrows in the head, and narrowly
escaped death. The Mohawks were entirely routed, and soon after

130 PERILS OP THE
Father Bressani and his party met the Hurons descending, with all
their missionaries.
The Huron mission being thus in a measure destroyed, two Fathers
sufficed for the few who survived, and settled near Quebec. Many
were thus unemployed, and such as were worn down by toil and suf
fering were sent back to Europe. Father Bressani was one of these.
He set out for France on the first of November, 1650, and, recovering
his health and strength, labored many years as a zealous missionary
in the cities and towns of Italy, with a success due less to his eloquence
than to his quality of a Confessor of Jesus Christ, bearing the glorious
marks of his apostolate.
In 1653, he published an account of the Huron mission, of which a
translation has recently appeared at Montreal : * and at last, full of
years and merits, he retired to Florence, and died in the novitiate in
that city on the 9th of September, 1672.
* Breve Relatione d'Alcuni Missioni. Macerata, 1653. Relation Abregee
de Quelques Missions par le Rev. Pere F. J. Bressani, traduit par le Rev.
Pere Felix Martin, S. J. Montreal, 1852.

Y 0 YAGES OP
REV. FATHER EMMANUEL CRESPEL,
IK
CANADA,
AND HIS
SHIPWRECK,
WHILE RETURNING TO FRANCE.
PUBLISHED BY
SIEUR LOUIS CRESPEL,
HIS E E 0 THEE.

FRANKFOKT-ON-THE-MEYN. 1742.

DEDICATION. 133

DEDICATION.
To His Excellency, Don Christopher de Portocarrero,
Guzman Luna, Pacheco, Enriquez de Almanza, Funez
de Villalpando, Aragon and Monrey ; Count of Mon-
tijo, Lord of the town of Moquer ; Marquis of Al-
gava, Villanueva del Fresno and of Barcarota ; Count
of Fuentidueria ; Marquis of Valderabano, Ossera, and
Castafieda ; Lord of the towns of Adrada, Guetor-
daxar, Vierlas, Crespa and Palacios ; Grand Marshal
of Castile ; Grand Bailli of Seville ; Hereditary Gov
ernor of the Castle and Fortress of Guadix ; Princi
pal Captain of the Perpetual Company of a Hundred
Gentlemen attached to the House of Castile ; Gentle
man of the Chamber to His Catholic Majesty ; Presi
dent of the Supreme Council of the Indies ; Grand
Esquire of the Queen ; Knight of the Illustrious Order
of the Golden Fleece ; Grandee of Spain ; Ambassador
Extraordinary of His Catholic Majesty to His Imperial
Majesty :
Mv Lord, — In presenting the work to your Excel
lency, I venture to assure you that the subject is truly
worthy of you. The obedience and submission of Abra
ham to the orders of Providence, the zeal and courage
of Moses, in leading the Israelites into the desert, the
patience and resignation of Job, in suffering the evils by
which God wished to try him, and — what is more admi-
12

134 DEDICATION.
rable — the vigilance, and especially the charity, with
out which St. Paul deemed himself nothing, are displayed
in the course of this relation which I present to Your
Excellency. Can so many virtues displease Your Lordship, who
admires them in others, and who, ever disposed to prac
tise them, merit having them admired in yourself ?
This work belongs, then, to Your ExceUency, and
should belong to no other. I do my duty in dedicating
it to you, and what pleasure have I not in doing my duty ?
This would be the place, My Lord, to do justice to
all the qualities which so advantageously distinguish
Your ExceHency's mind and heart ; but I fear to wound
that modesty which renders these qualities stiU more
admirable. I shall content myself, then, My Lord, with saying,
that aU who have the honor to belong to you, bless
every instant of the day which crowned their felicity in .
bringing them to Your Excellency.
Their attachment is your eulogy, the only one worthy
of men who, like you, My Lord, make it an occupation
to complete the happiness of those who belong to you.
This is not all, My Lord. No one can know you
without gladly paying a tribute of his heart and admi
ration ; the tribute we cannot but pay to virtue.
May Your ExceUency, then, be ever like yourself ;
may you, for the glory of your august Master, and the
good of your country, be ever in the ministry, which you
discharge with so much distinction. Men like you,
My Lord, should never die, and death could do nothing
against Your Excellency, if pubhc desires were accom
plished.

DEDICATION. 135
For myself, My Lord, what thanks do I not owe
Father Crespel, my brother, for having enabled me to
teU the world that aU my wishes centre in desiring
Your Excellency's preservation ; and beg you to accept
the most profound respect with which
I have the honor to be, My Lord,
Your ExceUency's most humble and
Most obedient servant, Louis Crespel.

136 editor's preface.

EDITOR'S PREFACE.
This work would surely need ho preface, had the
author intended it for publication ; but, as his only aim
in writing was to satisfy my curiosity, I cannot forbear
giving the reader my reasons for publishing it. I had
shown the manuscript to several persons whom taste
and talent distinguish more than their rank and birth ;
all advised me to present it, assuring me that the public
would thank me for doing so. My affection for my
brother, and my desire of pleasing the public, convinced
me that I ought to follow this counsel ; I hope my ready
acquiescence will not be treated as folly or blindness. At
all events, my motives were laudable, and I am sure of
finding favor with those who do not seek to cast ridicule
on men's intentions.
I also believe that I should tell how and for what
reason these letters were written ; this will be an ex
cuse for Father Crespel, my brother, if his style seems
to deserve censure, and if he does not seem to enter into
sufficient detail.
I had long pressed him to teU me what had happened
to him in his voyages ; for several months he resisted ;
but, wearied doubtless with my frequent importunity,
he sent me, by one of my brothers now in Russia, a
Relation which I found too succinct. I complained of

editor's preface. 137
his indolence in drawing me up only a journal ; I asked
him for something more circumstantial, and, to induce
him not to refuse me, I told him — what was true — that
many persons to whom I had read his letter, regretted
that he had made it so short, and that they had begged
me to entreat him to send me a more detailed Relation
of his travels in the New World, and his shipwreck
wlhle returning to France ; he yielded to my wish, and
during his stay at Paderborn, wrote the letters which I
pubhsh. It would be wronging my brother to suspect him of
exaggeration in his narrative. Those by whom he has
the honor of being known, are aware what a lover of
truth he is, and that he would die sooner than betray or
disguise it ; moreover, the character with which he is
invested does not suppose an impostor, and I can say
that my brother has never rendered himself unworthy
of it. Lastly, there are stUl many companions of his
travels and his shipwreck ; would an honest man expose
himself to be contradicted by one who underwent the
same fatigues, and ran the same dangers ? It is all that
one interested in imposing could do, and even he
would expose himself only tremblingly, and in a coun
try remote from all who could expose his knavery.
When I had the pleasure of seeing my brother in
this city, at the passage- of the French army, com
manded by Marshal de MaiUeboy, I had no httle trouble
in obtaining his permission to pubhsh the letters; they
were written for me alone ; and it is known that,
among brothers, no ceremony exists. My proposition
at first shocked him All men have their share of self-
love ; they do not like to speak before all the world
12»

138 editor's preface.
as they speak to their friends ; the fear of finding crit
ics makes them labor with much more care on works
intended for the public, and it is rendering one's self
criminal in their eyes to expose to broad day what was
made only to be seen privately. My brother, how
ever, at last gave way. I showed him that a man in
his state should lay aside all self-love ,• and I promised
him, at the same time, to make known his repugnance
to offering a work which he deemed unworthy of him.
He allowed me then to publish his Relation, on my
giving my word that I would neither add nor retrench
any circumstance. I was far from thinking otherwise ;
so that all may rest assured that all they are about to
read is conformable to the most exact truth, and that no
one may alter it by imagined additions, or impose on
the public, I shall take care to sign all copies which
agree with the original.

PERILS OF THE OCEAN, ETC. 139

CHAPTER VI.
VOYAGES AND SHIPWRECKS OF FATHER EMMANUEL CRESPEL,
RECOLLECT MISSIONARY IN NEW YORK, CANADA, AND THE WEST.
LETTER I.
My Dear Brother :— -You have so long evinced a.
desire to know the details of the voyage I formerly
made to Canada, that fearing to give you grounds for
suspecting my friendship, if I continued to decline
acceding to your desire, I directed one of my brothers to
send you a relation of all that befel me. You tell me
that you have received it, and, at the same time, com
plain that it is too succinct, and that you would be glad
to have it more detailed. I love you too well not to
make it a pleasure to please you, but I will divide my
relation into several letters. A single one would be too
long, and would doubtless tire you. The mind does not
always keep pace with the heart. I would perhaps
become tedious if I spoke too long of other subjects
than our friendship. .
Do not expect to find this relation sustained by eleva
tion of style, force of expression, and varied imagery ;
these graces of genius are not natural to me, and besides
scarcely suit anything but fiction. Truth has no need
of ornament, to be relished by those who really love it ;

140 PERILS OF THE
it is even difficult to recognize it, when presented with
the dress usually thrown around the false to give it
some resemblance to her.
You must remember, that towards the close of the
year 1723, I was still at Avesnes, in Haynaut ; I then
received, from my Superiors, permission to go to the
New World, as I had long asked to do, and indeed, it
would have been a great mortification had I been
refused. I set out, then, on the 25th of January, 1724 ; pass
ing by Cambray, I had the pleasure of embracing you,
and, on arriving at Paris, took an obedience from the
,Rev. Father Julian Guesdron, Provincial of St. Denis,
on whom the missions of New France depend.
It would be useless to speak to you of Paris ; you
know it better than I, and you know by experience that
it deserves, in every way, to be the first city in the
world. On the first of May, I started for Rochelle, which I
reached on the 18th of that month. I did not make a
long stay there, for, after providing all that was necessary
for the voyage, I embarked on the King's vessel, the
Chameau, commanded by the naval lieutenants, de Tylly
and Meschain.
The 24th of July, the day that we set sail, was
marked by the death of Mr. Robert, just going out as
Intendant of Canada. He was a gallant fellow, appar
ently endowed with every quality needed to fill worthUy
the post confided to him.
After a rather pleasant voyage of two months and a
half, we arrived before Quebec; I remained there tiU
1726, and remarked nothing in particular, beyond what

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 141
travellers say, and what you may read in their accounts.
On the 17th of March, in the year of my departure
from Quebec, Mr. de la Croix de St. Valier, Bishop of
that city, conferred the priesthood on me, and soon
after gave me a mission or parish called Sorel, south of
the St. Lawrence, between Three Rivers and Montreal.
I was taken from my parish, where I had spent two
years, to become chaplain of a party of four hundred
French, whom the Marquis de Beauharnois had united
with eight or nine hundred Indians of every kind of
nation. There were especially, Iroquois, Hurons, Nep-
issings and Ottawas, to whom the Rev. Mr. Pellet,
secular priest, and Father de la Bretonniere, Jesuit,
acted as chaplains. These troops commanded by Mr.
de Ligneries, were commissioned to go and destroy a
nation called the Foxes, whose chief village lay about
four hundred and fifty leagues from Montreal.
We set out on the 5th of June, 1728, and for nearly
¦ one hundred and fifty leagues, ascended the great river
which bears the name of the Ottawas, and which is full
of rapids and portages. We left it at Matawan, to
take another leading to Lake Nipissing, or Mipissing j
this river was thirty leagues long, and, like the Ottawa,
it is interrupted by rapids and portages. From this
river we entered the lake, wliich is about eight leagues
wide, and from this lake, French River quickly bore
us into Lake Huron, into which it empties, after a rapid
course of over thirty leagues.
As it is impossible for many to go together on these
little rivers, it was agreed that those who went first
should wait for the others at the entrance of Lake Hu
ron, at a place called Laprairie, and wliich is, in fact, a

142 PERILS OF THE
very beautiful prairie. Here, for the first time, I saw
the deadly rattle-snake ; when I have the pleasure of
seeing you, I shall speak more particularly of these
animals ; enough be it for the present, to say that none
of our party were troubled by them.
As we had all come up by the 26th of July, I cele
brated Mass, which I 'had deferred till then, and the
next day we started for Michillima, or Missillima Kinac,
which is a post situated between Lakes Huron and
Michigan. Although we had a hundred leagues to
make, the wind was so favorable that we reached it in
less than six days. Here we remained ^some time to
repair what had been damaged on the rapids and por
tages. I here blessed the standards, and buried some
soldiers whom sickness or fatigue had carried off.
On the 10th of August, we set out from Michillimak-
inac, and entered Lake Michigan. The wind which
detained us there two days, enabled our Indians to go
to hunt ; they brought back some moose and reindeer,
and were polite enough to offer us some. We at first
excused ourselves, but they forced us to accept their
present, and told us, that, as we had shared with them
the dangers of the route, it was fair that they should
share with us the good things they had found ; and that
they would not deem .themselves men, if they acted
otherwise towards other men. This speech, which one
of our men translated for me, quite moved me. What
humanity in savages ! how many men in Europe would
hetter deserve the name of barbarian than these
Americans !
This generosity of our Indians merited, on our part,
indeed, a hvely gratitude , for, as we had met no good

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 143
hunting-ground for some time past, we had been com
pelled to eat only pork ; the moose and reindeer they
gave us relieved us from the disgust we were beginning
to feel for our ordinary food.
On the 14th of the same month, we continued our
route to the Chicago bend, and, while crossing thence
to Deathcape, which is five leagues off, a squall sur
prised us, and drove on shore several of the canoes which
failed to double a point and reach shelter. They were
dashed to pieces, and we were obliged to distribute in
the other canoes the men who, by the greatest happiness
in the world,, had all escaped the danger.
The next day, we crossed to the Menomonees to
invite the tribe to oppose our landing ; they fell into
the trap, and were entirely defeated.
We encamped, on the following day, at the mouth of
a river called la Gasparde. Here our Indians entered
the woods, and soon brought in several deer ; this game
is very common at this place, and we accordingly laid
in a stock for some days.
On the 17th, at noon, we halted till evening, so as
to reach the Post at Green Bay only at night. We
wished to surprise the enemy, whom we knew to be
among the Sacs, their allies, whose vUlage is near Fort
St. Francis. We began our march in darkness, and at
midnight reached the mouth of Fox river, where our
fort is built. As soon as we got there, Mr. De Lignerie
sent some Frenchmen to the Commandant to know
whether there were really any of the enemy in the Sac
village, and, learning that there must be, he sent all his
Indians, and a detachment of the French, over the river
to surround the viUage, and ordered the rest of the

144 PERILS OF THE
troops to enter it. With all our precautions to conceal
our approach, the enemy were aware of it, and all
escaped but four. These were made a present to our
Indians, who, after amusing themselves with them,
shot them to death with arrows.
I witnessed with pain this horrible sight, and could
not reconcile with the sentiments of the Indians as ex
pressed a few days before the pleasure they took in tor
menting these wretches by making them undergo a hun
dred deaths before depriving them of hfe. I would
have liked to ask them whether they did not perceive
as well as I this contrariety, and show them what I saw
blamable in their course, but all who could act as inter
preters for me were on the other side of the river, and
I -was obliged to defer satisfying my curiosity to some
other time.
After this little coup de main, we ascended Fox
River, which is full of rapids, and has a course of thirty-
five or forty leagues. On the 24th of August, we
reached the Winnebago village, well disposed to destroy
all whom we should find there, but their flight had pre
ceded our arrival, and all we could do was to burn their
cabins, and ravage their fields of Indian corn which
affords them their principal nourishment.
We then crossed Little Fox Lake, at the end of
which we encamped, and, the next day, the feast of St.
Louis, we entered, after mass, into a little river which
led us to a kind of marsh, on the bank of which hes
the chief village of those whom we sought. Their
allies, the Sacs, had doubtless warned them of our
approach ; they did not think proper to await us, and
we found in their village only some women, of whom

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 145
our Indians made slaves, and an old man whom they
Imrnt at the stake, without any apparent repugnance at
the commission of such a barbarous action.
This cruelty seemed more marked to me than that
which they had exercised against the four Indians
whom they had taken in the Sac town. I availed my
self of this occasion and circumstance to satisfy the curi
osity which I mentioned a moment ago.
One of our Frenchmen understood the Iroquois
language. I begged him to tell the Indians that I
was surprised to see them take so much pleasure in
tormenting a wretched old man, that the right of war
did not extend so far, and that such barbarity seemed
to me to belie the principles which they had seemed
to entertain for all men. An Iroquois answered,
and, to justify his comrades, said that, when they fell
into the hands of the Sacs and Foxes, they received
still more cruel treatment, and that it was their cus
tom to treat their enemies as they themselves would
be treated if conquered.
I would have wished to know this Indian's language
to show him myself what was defective and blamable in
his reasoning ; but I had to content myself with repre
senting to him that nature, and particularly religion,
required us to be humane to each other ; that modera
tion should direct us in every thing ; that the pardon
and oblivion of injuries done us is a virtue whose prac
tice is expressly enjoined by Heaven ; that I conceived
that they ought not to spare the Sacs and Foxes, but
that they should deprive them of life only as rebels and
enemies of the State, and not as their private enemies ;
that their vengeance was criminal ; that to descend to
13

146 PERILS OF THE
such excesses as those into which they had fallen with
regard to the five men whose lives they had inhumanly
prolonged in order to put them to death in more cruel
torments was, in some sort, to justify the barbarity with
which they reproached their enemies ; that the right of
war simply permitted us to take an enemy's life, and
not, so to say, to become drunk in his blood, and to
plunge him into despair, by putting him to death in
any way but that of arms, or in any place but that of
the combat ; lastly, that it was their duty to give the
Sacs and Foxes an example of that moderation which is
the part of a good heart, and which draws admiration
and love on the Christian religion, and consequently on
those who profess it.
I do not know whether my interpreter translated all
that I have just said, but the Indian would never admit
that he acted on a false principle ; I was going to give
him some further reasons when the order was given to
advance against the enemy's last fort. This post is sit
uated on the banks of a little river, which joins an
other called Wisconsin, and falls into the Mississippi,
thirty leagues off.
We found no one there, and, as we had no orders to
go further, we spent some days in laying the country
waste, so as to cut off from the enemy aU means of sub
sistence. This country is fine enough : the soil is fer
tile, game common, and of good flavor ; the nights are
very cold, and the day extremely hot. I will speak
to you, in my second letter, of my return to Mont
real, and of what happened down to my departure for
France. I wish first to hear from you, and learn
whether you find this sufficiently detailed. The sequel

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 147
of my relation will depend on your answer, and I shall
"omit nothing to prove the tender friendship with which
I am, dear brother, your affectionate brother,
Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect.
Paderborn, January 10th, 1742.

LETTER II.

My dear Brother, — Nothing can be more flattering
to my self-love than your answer. My first letter, you
say, has satisfied many intelligent persons to whom you
showed it, and excited their curiosity to such a degree
that they are extremely impatient to see the rest of my
travels. This desire, of which I feel all the advantage,
might injure me if I delayed to gratify it. Things too
long expected lose their. value, and no one should fear
this more than myself.
After the expedition of which I have spoken, if, in
deed, we can give that name to an absolutely useless
step, we resumed the route for Montreal, from which
city we were about four hundred and fifty leagues dis
tant. On our way, we burnt the fort at the bay, because,
being too near the enemy, it would not have been a
safe retreat to the French left on guard there. The
Foxes, roused by the ravage of their country, and con
vinced that we would not venture a second time into
their territory in the uncertainty of finding them, would
have obliged our troops to shut themselves up in the
fort, would have attacked, and perhaps beaten them
there. When we were at Micheillemakinak, the

148 PERILS OF THE
commandant gave a carte-blanche to all. We had stiU
three hundred leagues to go, and we should undoubt
edly have run out of provisions, if we had not used
every effort to expedite 'our movements. The wind
favored us in passing Lake Huron, but we had almost con
stant rain while ascending French river, traversing Lake
Nipissing, and on the httle river Matawan ; it stopped
when we entered the Ottawa. I cannot express the
rapidity with which we descended that great river ;
imagination alone can form a just idea. As I was with
men whom experience had rendered skUful in shooting
the rapids, I was not among the last at Montreal,
which I reached on _ the 28th of September, and left
only in the spring, in obedience to an order given me
to descend to Quebec.
I had no sooner arrived in that city than our commis
sary appointed me to the post of Niagara, a new estab
lishment, with a fortress situated at the entrance of a
beautiful river that bears the same name, and wliich
is formed by the famous falls of Niagara, south of
Lake Ontario, and six leagues from our fort. I accord
ingly again bent my way to Montreal, and thence passed
to Frontenac or Catarakouy, which is a fort built
at the entrance of Lake Ontario. Although it is only
eighty leagues from Montreal, we were fifteen days in
reaching it on account of the rapids we had to pass.
There we waited some time for favorable winds ; for,
at this place, we leave the canoes to take a vessel which
the king has had built expressly to run to Niagara;
This vessel, which gauges about eighty tons, is very
light, and sometimes makes her trip, which is seventy
leagues, in less than thirty-six hours. The lake is very

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 149
safe, free from shoals, and very deep ; about the middle
I sounded with nearly a hundred fathoms of line, but
could not touch bottom ; its width is about thirty
leagues, and its length ninety.
We set sail the 22d of July, and reached our post on
the morning of the 27th. I found the spot very agree
able, the chase and fishery are productive, the forest of
extreme beauty and full, especially of walnut, chestnut,
oak, elm and maple, such as we never see in France.
The fever soon damped the pleasure we enjoyed at
Niagara, and troubled us till fall set in, which dissipated
the unhealthy air. We spent the winter calmly enough,
I may say agreeably, had not the vessel, which should
have brought us supplies, been compelled, after stand
ing a terrible tempest on the lake, to put back to Fron
tenac, and left us under the necessity of drinking
nothing but water.
As the season was far advanced, it did not venture
to set sail again, and we got our supphes only on the
first of May.
From Martinmas the failure of wine prevented my
saying Mass, but, as soon as the vessel got in, the garri
son went to their Easter duties, and I started for Detroit
on the invitation of a rehgious of my order, who was
missionary there. It is a hundred leagues from Niagara
to this post, which is situated six leagues from the en
trance of a very beautiful river, about fifteen leagues
from the extremity of Lake Erie.
This lake, which may be a hundred leagues long, and
some thirty wide, is very flat, and consequently bad
when the wind is high ; towards the north, above the
Great Point d' Ecorres, it is hounded by very high sand
13*

150 PERILS OF THE
hiUs ; so that, if surprised by the winds in portions
where there is no landing-place, and these are only
every three leagues, experience has shown that the
vessel must infallibly be lost.
I arrived at Detroit on the 17th day after my depart
ure ; the rehgious whom I went to visit, (Father Bona-
venture,) received me in a manner which wonderfully
characterized the pleasure we usually feel on finding a
countryman in a far country ; add to this, we were of
the same order, and the same motive had led us from
our native land. I was, therefore, dear to him, for
more reasons than one, and he neglected nothing to
show me how pleased he was with my visit. He was a
man a little older than myself, and highly esteemed for
the success of his apostohc labors. His house was
agreeable and commodious ,• it was, so to speak, his own
work, and the abode of virtues.
The time not employed in the duties of his office, he
divided between study and the labors of the field ; he
had some books and the selection he had made gave
some idea of his purity of life and extensive knowledge.
The language of the country was quite familiar to him,
and the ease with wliich he spoke it, endeared him to
many Indians who communicated to him their reflections
on all sorts of matters, and especially on rehgion.
AffabUity wins confidence, and no one deserved it more
than this religious.
He had carried his complaisance towards some of the
people of Detroit, so far as to teach them French.
Among these, I found several whose good sense, solid
and profound judgment, would have made them admi
rable men, even in France, had their minds been culti-

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 151
vated by study. During the whole time I spent with
this rehgious, I found daily new reasons to envy him a
lot like his. In one word, he was as happy as men
should be not to blush at their happiness.
After doing, at Detroit, what had led me thither, I
returned to Niagara, and remained there two years more ;
during this time I learned the Iroquois and Ottawa lan
guages, in order to converse with the people. This
study at first afforded me the pleasure of conversing
with the Indians, when I went to walk in the neighbor
hood of the post ; in the sequel you will see that it was
of great use to me, and actually saved my life.
When my three years' residence at Niagara had ex
pired, I was relieved according to custom, and went to
spend the winter in our convent at Quebec.
It was a great comfort for me to pass that rigorous
season there ; if we had not what is superfluous, at
least we never wanted what is necessary, and, what is
not the least consolation, we receive news from home,
and have persons to converse with.
Early in the spring, the chaplain of Fort Frontenac
fell sick, and our Commissary appointed me to go and
take his place. I have already spoken of the situation
of this post ; we hve agreeably there, and game is found
in abundance in the marshes, by which Fort Frontenac
is surrounded.I remained her^only two years, when I was recalled
to Montreal, and soon after sent to Crown Point in Lake
Champlain. It wiU not be amiss, I think, to tell you
why this point bears the name of Crown or Scalp.
When the Indians kiU any one on their expeditions, it
is their custom to take off his scalp, which they bring

152 PERILS OF THE
in on top of a pole, to prove that they have defeated
the enemy. This ceremony, or, if you hke, this custom,
began on this point, after a kind of combat, in which
many Indians lost their scalps, which gave name to the
place where the battle was fought.
Lake Champlain is some fifty-five leagues long ; it is
studded with very beautiful islands, and its water, which
is very pure, makes it abound in fish. The fort which
we have in this place, bears the name of St. Frederic ;
its situation is advantageous, for it is built on an elevated
point about fifteen leagues distant, northerly from the
extremity of the lake ; it is the key of the colony on
that side, that is to say, on the side of the English, who
are only twenty or thirty leagues off.
I arrived there, on the 17th of November, 1735.
The season, which began to be severe, multiplied the
difficulties of our way ,• it is one of the most painful I
ever made in Canada, if I except my shipwreck, as you
may judge.
The day of my departure from Chambly, a post
about forty leagues from St. Frederic, we were obliged
to sleep out, and during the night about a foot of snow
fell. The winter continued as it set in, and, although
we were lodged, we did not suffer less than if we were
in the open fields. The building where they put us
was not yet finished ; we were only partially sheltered
from the rain, and the walls, which were twelve feet
thick, having been finished only a few days, added still
more to our troubles which the snow and rain gave us.
Many of our soldiers were seized with scurvy, and
our eyes became so sore, that we were afraid of losing.
our sight without resource. We were not better fed

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 153
than lodged. Scarcely can you find a few patridges
near the fort, and, to eat venison, you must go to Lake
George to find it, and that is seven or eight leagues off.
We finished our buildings as soon as the season would
permit, but we preferred to camp out in summer, rather
than remain any longer.
Yet we were not more at ease, for the fever surprised
us all, and not one of us could enjoy the pleasures of
the country.
This state, I avow, began to be tedious, when, towards
the month of August, I received from my provincial,
an obedience to return to France. The religious whom
our Commissaiy sent to relieve me, was of our province,
and Peter VerquaUle by name ; he arrived on the 21st
of September, 1736, at St. Frederic, and I set out the
same day at four or five o'clock in the afternoon.
The next day, we had a favorable wind, which drove
us on to La Pointe, about eight leagues from Chambly.
On the 23d, we were well-nigh lost in shooting the
St. Teresa rapids ; this was the last danger I ran before
reaching Quebec, where I expected to embark at once
for France.
Such, my dear brother, is a brief account of my
travels in a part of New France. Those who have
travelled in that country can see that I know the
ground, and, in this, I have endeavored to be accurate.
The relations of many travellers tell us a thousand
things which I could only repeat after them ; in writing
my travels, my design was only to detail the shipwreck I
suffered on my way back to France. The circumstances
attending it are most interesting ; prepare your heart
for emotion and sadness ; what remains for me to write

154 PERILS OF THE
wUl excite your curiosity only by heightening your
compassion ; do not blush at indulging in it, dear
brother ; a noble heart is ever sensible to the misfortunes
of others ; he who would be unmoved by the miseries
of his brethren, bears, so to speak, a stamp of reproba
tion which justly cuts him off from human society.
I shall write you some weeks hence ; do not answer
this, as I must go some leagues from this town, your
letter might not reach me, and I do not wish to risk its
loss. Do not be impatient for my third, I shall write some
pages every day ; rely on my word, and believe that I
shall be, for hfe,
My dear brother, your affectionate brother,
Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect.
Paderborn, January 30, 1742.

LETTER III.
My Dear Brother : — It is not a fortnight since I
sent you my second letter ; you must see, by my dili
gence in writing the third, that I do not wish to keep
you waiting for the sequel of my narrative. If I were
master of all my time, my letters would be longer and
more frequent ; but duty must be preferred to all else,
and I can only afford you the hours not taken up by
the indispensable duties of my state
I remained some time at Quebec, awaiting an oppor
tunity to return to France ; two offered at once ; the
first in the king's vessel, Le Heros, of which I did not

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 155
avaU myself; the other was offered, me by the Sieur de
Freneuse, a Canadian sprung from the noble famUy of
the d' Amours ; the friendship that existed between us
induced me to accept his offer with pleasure, and I
could not refuse his request that I should act as chap
lain. He was a very fine man, whom an experience of
forty-six years had rendered most skilful in navigation ;
and Messrs. Pacaud, Treasurers of France, and shippers
at Rochelle, had thought it impossible to confide their
ship La Renommee, to better hands. It was a new ves
sel, a good sailer, convenient, with a cargo of three
hundred tons, and armed with fourteen pieces of cannon.
Several gentlemen, for security and pleasure, asked to
go with us, so that we were fifty-four on the vessel.
We weighed anchor and set sail on the third of
November, with several other vessels, and we all
anchored together at Trou St. Patrice, three leagues
from Quebec.
The next day we made the traverse, that is to say,
we crossed the St. Lawrence from south to north, and
the same day we reached the end of Isle Orleans, nine
miles from Quebec, and anchored off Cape Maillard.
On the 5th, we hoisted saU to pass the Gouffre, but
we were unable to do so on that day, and were com
pelled to put back to the spot from which we had started,
to avoid being carried away by the current, which runs
towards that point from a considerable distance.
We were more fortunate next day, for we passed this
Gouffre without accident, as did the Sieur Veillon, who
commanded a brigantine for Martinique, and who, like
ourselves, had been unable to pass the day before. ,
Ihe ships with which we had set sail, had passed at

156 PERILS OF THE
the first attempt, so that we were without company, and
cast anchor at La Prairie, near Isle aux Coudres.
On the 7th, we continued our route to Isle aux
Lievres, and thence to Mathan, where a shght northerly
wind arose, on which our captain, who knew its fury at
that season, avowed that we had everything to fear.
He, accordingly, deemed it best to find a roadstead, that
is to say, a suitable place to shelter us against the com
ing storm. The winds, soon after, obhged us to tack,
and the next day, the 11th of the month, towards eight in
the evening, they veered to N. N. E., N. E., E. N. E., E.,
and at last, to S. S. E., and then continued in that quarter
for two days. During all this time we tacked about along
Isle Anticosti, with reefed topsails ; but as soon as the
winds veered to S. S. W., we steered S. E. by E. and S. E.,
till the morning of the 14th. On that day, we endeav
ored to make the shore, but went aground a quarter of
a league from land, on the point of a shoal of flat rocks,
about eight leagues from the southern point of Isle
Anticosti. Our ship now struck so frequently, that we expected
every moment to see it open under us. The time must
have been bad, and the sailors in despair of our safety,
since all refused to give a hand in reefing the sails
and freeing the masts, although the strain they gave the
ship was evidently hurrying on our ruin. The water
rushed in in torrents ; fear had deprived half of all
presence of mind, and the general disorder seemed to
announce our death.
But for our cannoneer, our situation would have
been much more frightful ; he ran to the bread chest,
and, though the water had already reached it, he threw

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 157
out a part between decks ; he thought, too, that some
guns, a barrel of powder, and a case of cartridges,
would become necessary, in case we escaped the danger
we were actually in ; all this he had carried up. His
precaution was not useless, and, but for it, I would not
have the consolation of writing to you, my dear broth
ers. The sea was as violent as the wind, neither dimin
ishing in the least ; the waves had carried away our
rudder, and we were obhged to cut away our mizen-mast
to throw it overboard. We then let down our boat,
taking every precaution to keep it ahead, so as to pre
vent its being driven against the ship and dashed to
pieces ; the sight of death, and hope of deferring it,
gave courage to aU ; and, although we were sure of
being miserable in that desert island for some months at
least, each thought he would gain much by exposing
himself to everything to save his life.
After getting our boat afloat, we suspended it on the
davits, in order to embark all we had more easily, and
get a wide berth as soon a possible to save ourselves from
the heavy sea, which would, perhaps, have driven us on
the vessel, if we had not got off with speed. But it is
in vain for men to rely on their prudence ; when God
lays his heavy hand upon them, all their precautions are
useless. We entered the long boat to the number of twenty,
and, at that instant, the pulley of the fore davit gave
way ; judge of our situation ! the boat remained hang
ing by the stern, and, of those in it, several fell into the
sea ; others clung to the sides, and some, by means of
ropes, hanging over the ship's sides, got on board again.
The captain, seeing the disaster, cut or slipped the
14

158 PERILS OF THE
stern pulley, and the long boat righting, I jumped in to
save Mr. Leveque and Dufresnois, who were almost
drowned. Meanwhile, the sea used our long boat so
roughly, that it was leaking at every seam. Without
rudder, without strength, a frightful wind, rain in tor
rents, a sea in fury, and an ebb tide, what could we
expect but a speedy end ? Yet we made every effort
to get off; some bailed, one steered with an oar, — every
thing was wanting, or against us, and, to fill up our
miseries, we shipped two seas that left us knee-deep in
water; a third would have surely swamped us; our
strength began to give out as it became more necessary;
we made little headway, and, with good reason, began
to fear our longboat would fill before we could reach
land. The rain prevented our making out a proper
place to run in ; all before us seemed very rocky, or
rather we saw nothing but death.
I believed that it was time to exhort all to prepare,
by an act of contrition, to appear before God. This I
had deferred till now, so as not to augment the panic
or unman their courage ; but there was no recoiling,
and 1 did not wish to have my conscience reproach me
with a neglect of duty. Every one prayed, and after
the Confiteor, I gave a general absolution. It was a
touching sight ! All those men bailing and rowing,
while they implored our Lord to have mercy on them,
and forgive them the sins which made them unworthy
of partaking of his glory ; at last they were prepared
for death, and awaited it without repining. As for my
self, I commended my soul to God. I recited the
Miserere aloud, all repeating it after me. I saw no
hope left. The longboat was going down, and I had

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS'. 159
already muffled my head in my cloak, so as not to see
the moment of our going down, when a gust of wind
suddenly drove us ashore.
You may imagine, how eagerly we sprang from the
longboat ; but we were not yet out of danger ; several
waves broke over us, some of which knocked us down,
and very nearly carried us out of our depth ; yet we
made head against them, and got off with no harm, but
swaUowing an abundance of sand and water.
In this confusion, some one had presence of mind
enough, to keep hold of the line or chain attached to
the longboat, and hold it fast ; but for this precaution,
it was aU over, as you will see by my next letter, or
perhaps by the close of this.
Our first care was to thank God for delivering us
from so great a danger, and, in fact, without a special
aid of Providence, it would have been impossible to
escape death. We were on a little sand-bank, separated
from the island by a small creek, running from a bay a
Uttle above the place where we were. It was with
great difficulty that we crossed this creek, for it was so
deep, that for the third time we were on the point of
perishing. The sea, wliich began to fall at last, enabled
us to go and get what we had in the longboat, and
bring it to the island. This was a new fatigue, but it
could not be put off. We were wet to our very bones,
and so was everything we had. How could we make a
fire in this state ? Yet after some time we succeeded.
It was more necessary than anything else, and although
it was long since we had tasted food, .and hunger was
pressing on us, we thought of satisfying it only after
getting a little warm.

160 PERILS OF THE
About three o'clock in the afternoon, our small boat
came to land with only six men ; the sea was so violent
that it had been impossible for more to expose them
selves in it. We went to meet them, and took aU
necessary precautions to bring it in without injuring it.
Without this boat we could never have got to the ship to
bring off the provisions wliich the cannoneer had saved,
nor the seventeen men still on board.
However, none durst undertake to go there that day.
We passed the night sadly enough. The fire we had
made had not yet dried us, and we had nothing to shel
ter us in that rigorous season. The wind seemed to us
to be rising, and although the vessel was strong, new
and well knit, there was every ground for fearing that
it could not hold together till next morning, and that
all on board would perish miserably. About midnight
the wind fell, the sea subsided, and, at day-break, seeing
the ship in the same state that we left it, several sailors
went out in the boat. They found all on board weU,
having passed the night more at ease than we did, since
they were sheltered and had something to eat and drink.
They put some provisions in the boat, and brought all
off; they came seasonably for us, as we were now suffer
ing cruelly from hunger.
, We took what was necessary for a meal, that is to
say, about three ounces of meat a piece, a little soup,
and some vegetables that we put in. We had to econ
omize, and not expose ourselves to run out of provisions
so soon. We sent to the ship a second time to save
the carpenter's tools, tar, which we needed to repair
our longboat, an axe to cut wood, and some sails to
make a cabin. All this was a great help, especially

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 161
the saUs, for two feet of snow feU that night. On
the next day, November 16th, whue some went on
board for stores, the others laid hold of the long
boat, and at last got it high and dry by means of a
double puUey. The state we found it in, showed us
how near death we had been, and we could not conceive
how it had ever brought us ashore ; we now did aU we
could to repair it. The mizen yard, which was thrown
up on the shore, enabled us to make a keel ; we made
the bottom of a piece of wood cut in the forest; we
made two linings for the bottom, with boards which we
got on board, and at last it was refitted as well as our
position enabled us.
I defer to my next the sequel of my shipwreck ;
before continuing it, I should be glad to hear of you ;
such tidings interest no one more than myself, who am,
with the warmest friendship, my dear brother, your
very affectionate brother, Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect.
Paderborn, February 13, 1742.

LETTER IV.

My Dear Brother: — I have just received your
answer, which gives me infinite pleasure. I was espec
ially touched by what happened to you, in your Itahan
and Hungarian campaigns. Why did you not send
me the details sooner ? Here I must reproach you ;
but this cannot displease you, as it serves to show how
sensible I am to aU concerning you.

162 PERILS OF THE
I am glad that the beginning of my shipwreck excites
in your soul, the sentiments which I said it should ; it
is a proof that I have not exaggerated the evils which
I suffered, and saw others suffer. Yet, after all, my
dear brother, that is only a slight sketch, and what I
have yet to tell far surpasses all I have hitherto said,
and deserves all your attention.
While we were refitting the longboat, we ate only
once in twenty -four hours, and then our aUowance was
smaller then that I have already mentioned. It was
prudent to act so ; we had only two months' stores in
the ship, this being the usual provision made on sailing
from Quebec to France ; all our biscuit was lost, and
more than half our meat had been consumed or spoilt,
during the eleven days we had been at sea; so that,
with all possible economy, we had only five weeks' food.
This calculation, or, if you hke, this reflection, an
nounced death at the end of forty days ! for, after all,
there was no prospect of finding, before then, any means
of leaving the desert-island.
The ships which pass by it, saU altogether too far
off, to perceive any signal we could make, and then how
could we rely on them ? Our provisions could last no
more than six weeks, at most, and no ship could pass
for six or seven months.
I saw despair coming on, courage began to sink, and
cold, snow, ice, and sickness, seemed banded to increase
our sufferings. We sank beneath the weight of so
much misery. The ship became inaccessible from the
ice, which gathered around it ; the cold caused an intol
erable sleeplessness ; our sails were far from shielding
us from the heavy snows that fell, that year, six feet

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 163
deep, and fever had already surprised several of our
comrades. Such circumstances were too trying for us, not to
seek to dispose otherwise. We accordingly resolved on
a decisive step.
We knew that some of our countrymen were winter
ing at Mingan, on the main land to the north, in order
to hunt seals for oil ; there we were almost sure to get
rehef, but the difficulty was to reach it at that season ;
the rivers were all frozen, the snow was three feet deep,
and increased day by day, and the distance was great,
considering the season, and our condition, for we were
forty leagues from the highest or northwest part of the
island, which we had to make, turn, and descend some
what, then cross twelve leagues of open sea.
We were resolved to surmount all those obstacles ;
our actual state gave us no fears of a more frightful
one, but one reflection stopped us for some time. We
could not all start for Mingan, and half of us would
have to stay at this place which we were so eager to
leave, even to expose ourselves to more real dangers.
Yet there was no other way — we must all resolve to
die on that place at the end of six weeks, or part for a
time. I showed them that the least delay would defeat
our plan, as, during our irresolution, the bad weather
increased, and our scanty stores were faUing. I added,
that I could well conceive the repugnance each one
should have to remain where we were, but, at the same
time, I showed them the absolute necessity of parting
company, and I hoped our Lord would dispose the
hearts of some, to let the others go in search of aid ; I
wound up, that we must dry the chapel furniture — that

164 PERILS OF THE
to draw down on us the light of the Holy Ghost, I
would celebrate his Mass on the 26th, and that I was
sure our prayers would have the desired effect. All
applauded my proposition ; I said the Mass of the Holy
Ghost, and the same day twenty-four men offered to
remain, provided provisions were left them, and a prom
ise made, on the gospel, that relief would be sent as
soon as the party got to Mingan.
I told my comrades, that I had made up my mind to
stay with the twenty-four men who had offered to re
main at the place of our shipwreck, and that I would
endeavor to help them to await patiently the promised
relief. All, however, opposed my design, and to dis
suade me, said, that, as I knew the language of the
country, I must go with the party, so that if Mr. de
Freneuse and de Senneville should die, I might act as
interpreter, in case we met any Indians on the island.
Those who remained especially desired I should go ;
they knew me incapable of breaking my word, and did
not doubt, but that, on my arrival at Mingan, my first
care would be to relieve them ; not but that those who
were going were fully disposed to send a boat to their
relief as soon as possible, yet they relied apparently
more on the word of a priest, than that of one of them
selves. When all was arranged, I exhorted those who
remained to patience. I told them that the means of
drawing upon them the blessings of Heaven, was not
to give away to despair, and to abandon themselves
entirely to the care of Providence — that they should
keep themselves in continual exercise to keep off sick
ness, and not fall into discouragement, — that prudence
required an economical use of the food we had left,

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 165
although I hoped to send them rehef before it was spent ;
but that it was better to have some over, than to run the
risk of falling short. After giving this advice, those
who were to go, began to make their preparations, and,
on the 27th, we prepared to go ; we embraced our com
rades, who wished us a successful voyage, and, on our
side, we showed how anxiously we desired to relieve
their distress ; we were far from thinking that it was
our last embrace. Our farewell was most affecting, and
the tears which attended it were a kind of presentiment
of what was to befaU us.
Thirteen got in the small boat, and seventeen in the
longboat ; we set out in the afternoon, and rowed that
day about three leagues, but could not make land, and
were obhged to pass the night on the water, where we
endured inexpressible cold.
The next day we did not make as much progress,
but we slept ashore, and during the night a prodigious
quantity of snow fell over us.
On the 29th, the wind was against us, and we were
compelled by the snow, which still continued to fall in
abundance, to go ashore very early.
On the 30th, the weather forced us to lie to ; at nine
o'clock in the morning, we landed and made a good
fire to cook some .peas, which disagreed with several of
our party.
On the first of December, the winds prevented our
re-embarking, and, as our saUors complained of weak
ness, and said that they could not row, we cooked a
little meat, which we ate after drinking the broth ; it
was the first time after our departure, that we had feasted
ourselves so weU ; the other days we ate only a httle

166 PERILS OF THE
dried codfish raw, or a paste made of flour and water.
On the morning of the second, the wind having changed
to S. E., we set sail and made considerable progress ;
about noon we joined the smaU boat to eat together ;
our joy was extreme to see the fair weather continue,
and the winds become more and more favorable to our
route ; but this joy scarce lasted at all, and gave place
to the most frightful consternation. After our meal,
we continued on our way ; the small boat went faster
by oars, but by sail we had the advantage ; we thought
better to keep off shore, so as to double a point which
we perceived, and made signal to the boat to follow us,
but they let themselves be driven in towards the land,
and we lost sight of it.
At this point we found a frightful sea, and, although
the wind was not very violent, we doubled it only by
great effort, and taking in a great deal of water. This
made us tremble for the smaU boat which was in shore,
where the sea always breaks more violently than off.
It was handled so roughly that it went down, and we
heard no more of it till spring, as you will see by the
sequel of my narrative. When we had passed the
point, we endeavored to land, but the night was too far
advanced, and we could not. succeed ; the sea was bor
dered by very high and rugged rocks for nearly two
leagues, and, seeing at the end a sandy bay, we made
for it 'at full sail, and landed there without getting much
wet. We at once lighted a fire to show the small boat
where we were, but this precaution was useless, because
it had been dashed to pieces.
After eating a little paste, each one wrapped himself
up in his blanket, and spent the night by the fire. At

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 167
ten o'clock, the sky clouded over, and snow fell abun
dantly tUl next day. As the -fire melted it, the snow
gave us much trouble, so that we preferred standing the
cold to sleeping in water.
Towards midnight, the winds became so violent that
our longboat, wliich was only a short distance off shore,
having dragged its anchor, was driven ashore and almost
dashed to pieces. The two men who were on board
waking up, began to call out as loud as they could ; we
ran up at once. The captain and myself threw ashore
what we could save of the httle cargo ; the others packed
up what we threw out ; and carried it as they supposed
out of reach of the tide, but the sea became so furious
that, as it rose, it would have carried off all we had just
saved, had not our comrades taken the precaution to
transport three different times what they thought secure
at first. This was not enough ; we had to get our boat
ashore to prevent its being carried out to sea. The dif
ficulty we had in getting it high and dry is inconceivable,
and we did not accomphsh it until ten o'clock in the
morning ; we then found it much strained and in need
of considerable repairs. We deferred repairing it untU
the next day, and made a fire to dry ourselves; after
which we ate a little to restore us after our night's toU.
In the morning, the carpenter and all who were able to
help him labored to put matters in shape, and a part of
us went in search of the other boat, but in vain ; and it
was to no purpose that we remained there several days
to get tidings of it. On the eve of our departure we
kUled two foxes, which enabled us to spare our provis
ions ; in a situation like ours all must be turned to
account, and the fear of starving to death prevented our

168 PERILS OF THE
neglecting any opportunity of prolonging life. On
the seventh of the month, we started at daybreak,
with a slight favorable wind, by which we made consid
erable headway; about ten o'clock, we ate our two
foxes ; five hours after, the sky clouded over and the
wind rising with the sea, we had to seek a harbor, but
there was none. We were therefore obliged to stand
off and sail before the wind to save ourselves. The
night approached ; rain, mixed with hail, soon closed the
day ; the wind drove us on with so much vehemence
that we could scarcely govern it, and our boat had
undergone too much rough usage to be able to stand
such a storm. Yet we had to yield to the circum
stances. At the height of the danger we were driven into a
bay, where the wind still vexed us, and where it was
impossible to find a landing ; our anchor could not hold
anywhere ; the storm increased every moment, and our
boat being driven on some shoals, we thought that we
had not an hour to live.
We nevertheless endeavored, by throwing overboard
part of our boat's load, to put off the fatal moment.
Scarcely had we done this when we were surrounded
by ice ; this more than redoubled our fear, as the cakes
of ice were furiously tossed about and broke against us ;
I cannot tell you where they drove us, but I shall not
exaggerate by telling you that the various tossings we
met with that night are beyond all expression. The
darkness increased the horror of our condition ; every
blast seemed to announce our death. I exhorted all
not to distrust Providence, and, at the same time, to put
themselves in a state to go and render God an account

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 169
of a life which he had granted us only to serve him,
and I reminded them that he was the Master to take it
from us when he pleased.
Day came at last, and we endeavored amid the rocks
to make the bottom of the hay, where we were a httle
more tranquil ; every one regarded himself as having
escaped the gates of the grave, and rendered thanks to
the almighty hand which had preserved us amid such
imminent danger.
With all our efforts we could not make land, the
water being too shaUow. We had to cast anchor, and,
to get ashore, we had to go waist-deep in some parts,
knee-deep in all. We had with us the kettle and flour
to make paste. After taking some nourishment, our
next thought was to dry our clothes, so as to start next
day. In a few days I will give you the sequel of our
disaster, and shall not await your answer.
I am, with all possible friendship, dear Brother, your
very affectionate brother. Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect.
Paderborn, February 28, 1742.

LETTER V.
My Dear Brother : — It is not a week since I wrote
you my fourth letter, and I do not forget that at the
close I promised to send you the fifth without delay.
I now keep my word, and continue my narrative.
The cold increased so much during the night that
the whole bay was frozen over, and our boat hemmed.
15

170

PERILS OF THE

in on all sides. In vain did we hope that the wind
would detach it; day by day the cold became more
intense ; the ice got stronger, and we had no alternative
but to land what little had not been thrown overboard,
and to bring in all our provisions. We made cabins
which we covered with fir branches ; the captain and
myself were versed in the way of building them, so that
ours was one of the most comfortable. The sailors
raised theirs along-side of ours, and, to hold the provis
ions, we erected a little place which no one could enter
without being seen by all. This was a necessary pre
caution, and to prevent suspicion which might arise
against those who had the charge of it, and to prevent
any one from consuming in a few days what was to sup
port us for many long days.
The following was the furniture of the apartments we
had made for ourselves ; the iron pot in which we had
heated the tar, served us as a kettle ; we had only one
axe, but no stone to sharpen it, and our only preserva
tive against the cold, was our clothes and some half-
burned blankets. Had any of these failed us, we should
undoubtedly have perished. Without the pot, it would
be impossible to cook anything to sustain life ; without
the axe, we could get no wood to keep up our fire, and
without our blankets, bad as they were, there was no
means of resisting the excessive cold which almost
annihilated us at night.
This state, you will tell me, was frightful, and noth
ing could add to it ; pardon me, dear brother, ere long
it. wiU be incredible. Its horror augments at every
line, and I have much to write you before I come to
the extremity of misery to which I was reduced.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 171
Our sole resource was to be able to prolong our
existence till the close of April, and to wait for the ice
to melt, in order to continue our voyage in the boat ;
chance alone could bring us relief in that spot ; it was
mere delusion to hope for any. In this crisis, it was
necessary to examine soberly what provisions we had,
and to regulate the distribution in such a way that they
should last till that time. We accordingly regulated
our food in the following manner : in the morning, we
boiled in snow-water two pounds of flour, to have paste
or gruel ; in the evening, we cooked in the same way,
about the same weight of meat ; we were seventeen in
number, and consequently each had about four ounces
of food a day. There was no talk of bread or anything
else. Once a week only we ate peas instead of meat,
and although we had only a spoonful apiece, it Avas, in
reality, our best meal. It was not enough to fix the
quantity of food which we were to take ; we had also to
settle on our occupations. Leger, Basile and myself,
undertook to cut the necessary wood, be the weather
what it might ; some others agreed to carry it in ;
others, to clear the snow, or rather to diminish its depth,
on the road we had to take to the woods.
You will perhaps be surprised at my undertaking to
cut wood, an exercise for which I was not apparently
adapted, and even you may think, beyond my strength ;
in one sense, you are right ; but when you reflect, that
violent exercise opens the pores, and gives vent to many
humors, that it would be dangerous to leave festering
in the blood, you will easily understand that I owe my
preserv ation to this exercise. I always had foresight
to tire myself extremely whenever I felt heavy or

172 PERILS OF THE
feverish, and especially when I thought myself affected
by the bad air. I accordingly went every day into the
woods, and there in spite of all the efforts to clear away
the snow, we often went waist-deep. This was not our
only trouble in this employment ; the trees in our
•neighborhood were full of branches, all so loaded with
snow, that, at the first stroke of the axe, it knocked
down the one that struck ; we were all three in succes
sion thrown down, and we often fell each two or three
times, then we continued the work ; and when, by
repeated shaking, the tree was disencumbered of the
snow, we felled it, cut it in pieces, and returned to the
cabin, each with his load ; then our comrades went for
the rest, or rather for what was needed for that day.
We found this hard work, but we had to do it ; and
although the fatigue was extreme, everything was to be
feared if we neglected to keep it up manfully ; the
difficulty increased day by day, for, as we cut down the
wood, we had to go further, and so lengthen our jour
ney. Our weakness increased, as our toil became greater.
Fir branches thrown down without order, were our bed ;
we were devoured, by vermin, for we had no change of
clothing ; the smoke and snow gave us terrible soreness
in the eyes, and, to complete our miseries, we became
at once extremely costive, and afflicted by an inconti
nence of urine, which gave us not a moment's rest. I
leave it to physicians to settle whence this arose ; had
we known the cause, it would not have availed us ; it is
useless to learn the source of an evil which we cannot
remedy. On the 24th of December, we dried our chapel fur
niture ; we had a httle wine left ; I thawed it, and on

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 173
Christmas day, said Mass ; when it was over, I made a
short discourse to exhort our folks to patience. It was
a kind of parallel between what the Savior of the world
had suffered, and what we endured, and I closed by
exhorting them to offer their pains to our Lord, and by
assuring them that this offering was a title to obtain the
end and recompense. We can express much better the
evils we feel, than those we see others experience. My
words had the effect I expected ; each one resumed
courage, and resigned himself to suffer, till it should
please God to caU him to himself, or to rescue us from
danger. On the first of January, considerable rain fell all day,
and, as we could not shelter ourselves from it, we had
to go to sleep aU wet, and during the night, a violent
norther, so to speak, froze us in our cabin, broke up all
the ice in the bay, and carried the fragments off with
our longboat ; a man named Foucault informed us of
this by a loud cry; we sought, in vain, the spot to
which it had been carried. Judge of our consternation ;
this accident crowned our misfortunes, and took away
all hopes of seeing them end ; I felt all the conse
quences of it ; I saw despair seize on all ; some wished
to eat at once what food we had, and go die at the foot
of some tree ; others no longer wished to work, and, to
justify their refusal, said, that it was useless to prolong
their pain, as there was no apparent hope of escaping
starvation. What a situation, my dear brother ! It would
touch the hardest heart. I shed tears as I write it, and
I know you are too sensitive to the miseries of others,
to think that you can read my letter unmoved.
I had need to recaU aU my strength to oppose my
16»

174 PERILS OF THE
companions ; the best reasons which I alleged, seemed
to excite impatience, and make them feel more poignantly
their wretched state. As the mildness by which I had
hoped to dissuade them from their course had failed, I
assumed a tone which my character authorized ; I told
them, with a boldness at wliich they were surprised,
that " God was doubtless irritated against us ; that he
measured the evils which he sent us, by the crimes we had
previously committed ; that these crimes were doubtless
enormous, as the punishment had been so rigorous, and
that the greatest of aU was our despair, which, unless
speedily foUowed by repentance, would become irremis-
sible. How do you know, my brethren, but that you
are at the close of your penance ? The time of the
greatest sufferings, is that of the greatest mercy ; do
not become unworthy of it by your murmurs ; the first
duty of a Christian is to submit blindly to the orders of
his Creator ; and you, rebel hearts, would you resist
him ? Would you lose in an instant, the fruit of the
evils which God sends you, only to render you worthy
of the good things which he reserves for his children ?
Would you become homicides, and, to escape transient
pain, not fear to rush into torments which have no
bounds, but eternity ? Follow your guilty resolve,
accomplish your horrible design, I have done my duty ;
it is your business to think that you are then lost for
ever. Yet I hope, I added, that among you, there will
be some at least so attached to the law of their God, as
to regard my remonstrance, and that they will join me
in offering him their pains, and asking strength to
bear them."
When I had finished, I wished to retire, but aU

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 175
stopped me, and begged me to pardon the excess of
despair into which they had fallen ; they promised me
with tears, that they would no longer provoke Heaven
by their murmurs and impatience, and that they would
redouble their efforts to preserve a life of which God,
alone, and not they, was Master to dispose of it. Each
one immediately resumed his ordinary occupation ; I
went to the woods with my two comrades, and, when
we got back, the other two went for the wood we had
cut. When all were again together, I told them that,
having still wine enough for two or three Masses, it
would be well for me to celebrate one, to ask, of the
Holy Ghost, the strength and light which we needed.
The weather cleared on the 5th of January; I chose
that day to say the Mass ; scarcely had I finished it,
when Mr. VaUlant and Foucault, the chief steward, a
strong and vigorous man, informed us of their resolu
tion to go and look for the longboat. I greatly praised
their zeal in exposing themselves thus for their com
panions. However we may be situated, we like praise ;
self-love never leaves us but with life. They had not
been gone two hours, when we saw them coming back
with a contented air, which made us believe that they
had some good news to tell us ; this conjecture was not
false, for Mr. Vaillant said, that, after walking an hour
with Foucault, they had perceived a little cabin and
two bark canoes ; that, on entering, they had found
seals, fat, and an axe, which they brought off, and that
impatience to announce this to their companions, had
prevented their going further. I was in the wood
when they came back ; the Sieur de Senneville ran to
teU me of the discovery which Mr. VaiUant and Fou-

176 PERILS OF THE
cault had just made ; I hurried back to the cabin, and I
begged our two men to detail all that they had seen ;
they repeated what they had told the others. Every
word spread hope and joy over my heart ; I seized that
occasion to extol the care of Providence over those who
resign themselves entirely to it, and exhorted all to re
turn thanks to God for the favor which he had just
done us. The nearer a man is to the brink of the
precipice, the more grateful he is to his deliverer. You
may judge whether our gratitude was lively. A few
days before, we believed ourselves hopelessly lost, and,
when we despaired of receiving any assistance, we
learned that there were Indians on the island, and that,
towards the end of March, they could aid us, when they
would return to the cabin to raise their canoes.
This discovery renewed the courage of those who had
made it. They started next day full of the confidence
which the first success gave ; they hoped to find our
longboat ; their hope was not deceived, for, after going
a little further than before, they perceived it off shore,
and on returning found and brought with them a trunk
full of clothes which we had thrown overboard, during
that night of which I have spoken.
On the tenth, although the weather was very cold,
we all went to try and put our boat in a place of safety ;
but being full of ice, and that which lay around making
it like a little mountain, it was impossible for us to draw
it ashore ; a hundred men would not have succeeded
without great difficulty ; and even then many would
run the risk of perishing in the attempt. This obstacle
did not cause us much grief; to all appearance the own
ers of the two canoes had a larger craft with wliich they

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 177
had crossed, and we hoped to profit by it. We accor
dingly returned to our cabin ; scarcely had we taken
fifty steps when the cold seized Foucault so as to prevent
him from walking ; we were obliged to carry him, and
when we got him to the cabin, he gave up his soul to
God. On the twenty-third, our master carpenter sank under
the hardships ; he had time to confess and died a sin
cere Christian. Although many of us had our legs
swollen, we lost no one from the twenty-third of Janu
ary, tiU the sixteenth of February ; the expectation of
the close of March supported us, and we already thought
we saw those from whom we hoped for rescue, arriving ;
but God did ordain that aU should profit by the rehef
which he sent us, the designs of his Providence are
inscrutable, and, contrary as their effects may be to us,
we cannot without blasphemy, accuse them of injustice ;
what we call evil is often, in the designs of our Creator,
a benefit ; and, whether he rewards or punishes us,
whether he tries us by misfortune or prosperity, we
always owe him thanksgiving.
FareweU, my dear brother, I expect to hear from you ;
my letter is long enough ; I wish to let you sympathize
with me for a time ; this is a right which I believe I
may require from your affection.
I am, and ever shall be, my dear brother, your affec
tionate brother, Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect.
Paderborn, February 28, 1742.

178 PERILS OF THE

LETTER VI.

My Dear Brother : — I expected to hear from you
on the fifteenth, or, at latest, the eighteenth of this
month. It is now the twenty-fifth, and I hear nothing
of you. Your sentiments in my regard do not allow me
to suppose that this delay is caused by any coolness or
indifference ; I prefer to think that business beyond
your control has prevented you, and to show you that
I do not make your silence a crime, I for the third time
take the advance of you.
I closed my last letter by saying that we had reached
the beginning of February, sustained by the hope of
soon seeing the term of our misery, but that God had
otherwise disposed, and, my dear brother, this I wish to
explain to you to-day.
On the sixteenth, the' Sieur de Freneuse, our captain,
died after receiving Extreme Unction ; some hours after,
Jerome, the boatswain, confessed and departed this life
with admirable resignation. Towards evening, a young
man named Girard paid the same tribute to nature ; he
had for some days prepared to appear before God. A
disease of the legs which had come on from warming
himself too near, had induced him to put his conscience
in order ; in this I aided him. He made a general
confession, and the contrition which he seemed to
have for his sins, make me think he deserved pardon.
Our master gunner fell the next night into a debility
from which he never recovered ; and finally Robert,
another boatswain, was attacked by the sickness which
had carried off the others ; I prepared him to make an

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 179
abjuration ; he was a Calvinist ; and I avow that it was
not easy to make him a Catholic ; fortunately, the good
ness of the cause which I maintained supplied the stead
of the necessary talents ; the Protestants are well
instructed, we must admit ; I was twenty times amazed
at Robert's arguments. What a pity, then, the basis of
Calvinism rests on a false principle ! 1 exclaim — What
a pity the Calvinists are not of our communion ! With
what success would they not defend the right cause,
when they so vigorously sustain a bad one !
At last this, Robert understood, and chose to avoid
the danger of dying in any other creed than ours. On
the twenty-fourth of February, he made an abjuration,
repeated his profession of faith, and went to receive in a
better life the reward of the evils he had suffered in
this. As these died, we put their bodies in the snow
beside the cabin. There was doubtless a want of pru
dence in putting our dead so near us, but we had not
courage and strength to carry them further ; besides,
our situation did not permit us to think of every thing,
and we did not see any ground to fear the neighborhood
of what might so corrupt the air as to hasten our end,
or rather we thought that the excessive cold, which
prevailed, would prevent the corruption from producing
on us any of the effects which it would have been
rational to dread in other circumstances.
So many deaths in so short a time, spread terror
among all. Wretched as man may be, he never looks
without horror on the moment which is to end his mis
eries, by depriving him of life. Some bewailed theh'
wives and children, and bemoaned the state of misery
into wliich their death would plunge their families;

180 PERILS OF THE
others kept complaining of being carried off at an age
when they only began to enjoy life ; some, sensible to
the charms of friendship, attached to home, and destined
to agreeable, and advantageous positions in life, uttered
cries which it was impossible to hear without shedding
tears : every word they uttered cut me to the heart ;
scarcely had I strength left to console. At first, I
mingled my tears with theirs : I could not, without
injustice, refuse them this consolation, nor condemn
their grief. This conduct was dangerous, and I saw no
course more proper than to allow the effect of their first
reflections to subside. The object of their regret did
not make them guilty ; what could I condemn in their
grief? It were an attempt to stifle nature, to silence it
on an occasion when it would be worthy of contempt, if
it were insensible.
The circumstances in which we were could not be
more distressing. To see one's self die, to see friends
die, unable to help them ; to be uncertain of the fate of
thirteen persons, whose boat had been wrecked ; to have
no doubt that the twenty-four near the vessel were not
at least as wretched as ourselves ; to be ill fed, ill
clothed, worn out, with sore legs, eaten up by vermin,
blinded continually, either by the snow or by the
smoke, such was our condition ; each one of us a pic
ture of death ; we shuddered to look at each other ;
and what passed in myself justified my comrade's lam
entations. Violent grief is never lasting, and extreme evils more
frequently fail to find expression than moderate ones.
As soon as I saw them plunged in that silence which
usuaUy follows tears excited by a great misfortune, and

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 181
marking an excessive grief, I endeavored to console
them, and this is about what I said.
" I cannot condemn your lamentations, my dear chU
dren, and God will doubtless hear them favorably. We
have more than once experienced in our misery the
effects of his goodness. Oui- longboat open at every
seam, yet sustained and buoyed up the night of our
shipwreck ; the resolution of the twenty-four men who
sacrificed themselves for us ; and, above all, the discov
ery of the two Indian canoes, are events which clearly
prove the protection which God affords us. He distrib
utes his favors only by degrees. He wishes us, before
he completes them, to render ourselves worthy by our
resignation in suffering the evUs which it shall please
him to send us. Let us not despair of his Providence;
it never abandons those who submit entirely to his will.
If God does not deliver us in an instant, it is because he
deems it proper to use for that purpose apparently nat
ural means ; he has already begun by leading the Sieur
VaiUant and Master Foucault to the spot where the
canoes are ; let us rest assured that he wiU accomplish
this work. For my own part, I have no doubt he
intends those canoes for our dehverance. This relief,
my dear chUdren, must soon be offered us : we have
almost reached the month of March, the time when the
Indians will come and take their canoes ; the term is
not long ; let us have patience, and redouble our atten
tion to discover the coming of those from whom we
expect rehef. They "doubtless have a sloop ; let us
implore God to dispose them to take us in ; he holds
in his hands the hearts of all men ; he wUl soften for
us the hearts bf these Indians ; he wiU excite their
. 18

182 PERILS OF THE *
compassion in our favor and our confidence in his good
ness, joined to the sacrifice which we will make him of
our pains will merit what we ask."
I then fell on my knees, and recited some prayers
adapted to our situation and wants ; all imitated me,
and none thought more of his evils but to offer them to
God. We were tranquil enough till the fifth of March ;
we beheld with joy the moment of our delivery
approaching, we almost touched it, but God again chose
to afflict us, and put our patience to new trials.
' On the sixth of March, Ash- Wednesday, about two
o'clock in the morning, a heavy snow, driven by a vio
lent north wind, filled up our cup of misery : it fell so
deep that it soon filled our cabin, and drove us into the
sailors'. It entered here as much as into ours, but, as it
was larger, we had more room ; our fire was out ; we
had no means of making another, and to warm us we
had no recourse but to huddle close to each other. We
went to the sailors' cabin about eight o'clock in the
morning of Wednesday, carrying our blanket and a little
raw ham, which we ate as soon as we got in ; we then
threw the snow into a corner of the cabin, spread the
large blanket on the ground, lay down on it, and the
fragments of the small ones served to shield us from the
snow more than from the cold. In this state we
remained without fire, and without eating or drinking
anything but snow, till Saturday morning.
I then resolved to go out, cold as it was, to bring some
wood and flour to make paste. It was risking life not
to expose it to seek relief against cold and hunger.
During the three days and nights we had spent in the
sailors' cabin, I had seen four or five men die with their

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 183
legs and "hands completely frozen ; we were fortunate
not to be surprised in the same way, for the cold was so
intense on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, that the
hardest man would have infallibly died had he gone out
of the cabin for ten minutes. You may judge by what
I am going to tell you : the weather having become a
little milder on Saturday, I determined to go out ;
Leger, BasUe and Foucault, resolved to follow me ; we
were not over a quarter of an hour getting the flour,
and yet BasUe and Foucault had theh hands and feet
frozen on that journey, and died a few days after.
We were unable to go to the woods, which the snow
rendered inaccessible, and we would have run the risk
of perishing had we attempted to overcome this obstacle.
We were, therefore, obhged to make our paste cold,
each one had about three ounces, and we well-nigh paid
with our lives this httle rehef, for all night long we
were tormented by such a cruel thirst, and devoured by
such a violent fever, that we thought every moment
that we should be consumed.
On Sunday, the 10th, Furst, Leger, and myself,
avaUed ourselves of the weather, which was pretty
good, to go and get a httle wood ; we were the only
ones able to walk, but the cold we had to endure, and
the hardship we had to undergo, in clearing away the
snow, well-nigh reduced us to the same state as the
rest ; fortunately, we held out against both ; we brought
in some wood, made a fire, and, with snow water and
a little flour, we had a very thin paste, which, in some
shght degree, alleviated our thirst.
All the wood which we brought in, was burnt up by
eight o'clock, and the night was so cold, that the elder

184 PERILS OF THE
Sieur Vaillant was found dead in the morning. This
accident led Furst, Leger, and myself, to think it bet
ter to return to our own cabin ; it was smaller, and
consequently warmer than that of the sailors ; the snow
had stopped, and there was no sign of another snow
storm. Great as was our weakness, we undertook to
throw out of our first cabin, the snow and ice which
filled it ; we brought in new fir branches for beds, we
went for wood, and lighted a great fire inside and out
side of the cabin to warm it thoroughly. After this
work, which had greatly fatigued us, we went for our
companions. I brought the Sieurs de Senneville, and
Vaillant the younger, whose legs and arms were frozen.
Mr. le Vasseur, Basile, and Foucault, less afflicted than
the others, endeavored to crawl along without help ; we
laid them on the branches which we had prepared, and
not one left. them till after death.
On the 17th, Basile became insensible, and died two
days after. Foucault, who was of a hardy constitution,
and was young, suffered a violent agony ; his struggles
with death made us tremble, nor have I ever seen a
more terrible sight. I endeavored to do my duty on
these sad occasions, and I hope, from the divine good
ness, that my care has not been useless for the salvation
of the dying.
Our provisions drew near the end ; we had no more
flour ; we had scarcely ten pounds of peas ; we had not
seven pounds of candles, nor as much pork ; and our
last ham did not weigh at best three pounds. It was
time to think of other means of living ; accordingly,
Leger and I, for Furst, our mate, was unable, went at
low water to get shell-fish ; the weather was pretty fair,

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 185
we walked knee-deep in water for two hours, and at
last found on a sand-bank, a kind of oyster, with single
shell ; we brought along all we could ; they were good,
and whenever the weather and the tide permitted, we
went and laid in a stock ; but they cost us pretty dear,
for, on reaching the cabin, our hands and feet were both
swollen, and almost frozen. I did not dissemble from
myself the danger I ran in renewing too often this kind
of fishery ; I saw the consequence, but what was to be
done ? We must live, or rather put off, for a few days,
the moment of our death.
Our sick companions grew worse daily ; gangrene set
in their legs, and no one could dress them ; I under
took this charge ; it was incumbent on me to give an
example of that charity which is the base of our holy
rehgion, yet, for some moments, I wavered between the
merit of fulfilling my obhgations, and the danger of
discharging them ; God gave me grace to triumph over
my repugnance ; duty prevailed, and although the time
of dressing my comrades' sores was the most cruel in
the day, I never relaxed the care I owed them. I will
inform you, in my seventh letter, of the nature of these
sores, and you may judge how well founded was the
repugnance I first felt to dressing them, or rather you
wUl see how excusable it was as a first impression. I
was well rewarded for my pain ; the gratitude of the
sufferers is inconceivable. " What ! " said one, " you
expose yourself to death to save ourselves ? Leave us to
our pain ; your care may soothe it, but will never dis
miss it." "Leave us," said another, "and do not
deprive those who are not to die, of the consolation of
having you with them ; only help us to put our con-
16»

186 . PERILS OF THE
science in a state to go and render an account to God of
the days which he has left us, and then fly the corrupted
air which all breathes around us."
You may judge that their entreaties were new ties
which bound me to them ; they increased the pleasure
which I felt in doing a duty, and gave me the strength
and courage which I needed.
Farewell, brother, I have not' time to tell you more ;
besides, I should be glad to hear of you before ending
my narrative, and to know the effect which my last
three letters have produced in your heart, and on the
hearts of those whom you have allowed to read it.
I am ever, with the same friendship, my dear brother,
Your very affectionate brother,
Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect.
Paderborn, March 28, 1742.

LETTER VII.
My Dear Brother : — I am happy to learn that
your occupations have been the only cause of your
silence ; I never suspected any other, and I see with
pleasure that I was not mistaken. My last three let
ters have, you say, touched you as much as the previous
ones have increased the curiosity of those who have
seen them ; this flatters me greatly, and induces me to
send you the rest without delay ; I hope you wUl have
the last of it about the 18th of May, unless I am
obhged to make some excursion before that ; be that as
it may, you may rely on its being as soon as possible.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 187
I soon saw that our sick comrades could not escape
death ; they felt it themselves, and, although they
seemed resigned, I did not deem myself dispensed from
serving them the last days of their life. I said prayers
morning and evening beside them ; I then confirmed
them in the submission which they had to the will of
Heaven ; " Offer your sufferings to Jesus Christ," I
would say, " they will render you worthy of gathering
the fruit of the blood shed for the salvation of the hu
man race ; the Man God is the perfect model of that
patience and resignation which I admire in you ; your
exUe is about to end ; and what thanks have you not to
render to our Lord for having furnished you, by this
shipwreck, the surest means of reaching the port of
salvation ! You leave, indeed, wives who expect all
fromyou, my dear friends ; you leave children, whose
estabhshment was to be your labor, but hope in God,
he is a good Father, he never abandoned his own, and
rest assured, that, in calling you to himself, he will not
forget that he has taken you from your families, who
will, after your death, need the care of his Providence.
He has, himself, promised to be the stay of the widow
and the orphan ; his word is firm ; his promises are
never ineffectual, and you, by your sufferings, especially
deserve that he should cast a look of favor on your
wives and children, and do for them much more than
you ever could have done."
These poor dying men answered me only by assuring
me that all their hope was in God, and that it was so
firm that they were ready to leave the world without
thinking of those whom they left, except to recommend
them to his divine protection.

188 PERILS OF THE
When I had finished speaking to them on spiritual
things, I set to dressing their sores ; I had only lye to
cleanse them ; I then covered them with some rags which
I dried, and when I had to take these off I was sure to
bring away strips of flesh which, by their corruption,
spread an infected air even around the cabin.
After twelve days, their legs had only the bones;
the feet were detached, and their hands entirely wasted
away. I was obliged to dress them several times ; the
infection arising was so great that, every now and then,
I had to get a breath of fresh air so as not to be suffo
cated. Do not think, dear brother, that I am imposing
upon you ; God is my witness, that I add nothing to the
truth, and the reality is more horrible than I can depict.
Words are too feeble to express a situation like mine
then. How many touching things could I not tell you,
if I set down the words of these poor wretched men ! I
constantly endeavored to console them by the hope of
an eternal reward, and I often blended my tears with
those which I saw them shed.
On the first of April, the Sieur Leger went to the spot
where the Indian canoes were, and I went to the woods
about eight o'clock in the morning ; I was resting on a
tree which I had cut down, when I thought I heard the
report of a gun ; as we had several times heard the same
noise without being able to discover whence it came,
nor what it was, I paid no great attention to it. About
ten o'clock, I went back to the cabin to ask Mr. Furst to
come and help me bring in the wood I had cut ; I told
him, as we walked along, what I thought I had heard,
and at the same time kept looking out to see whether
Mr. Leger was returning. We had scarcely gone two

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 189
hundred paces when I perceived several persons ; I ran
to meet them, and Mr. Furst hastened with this happy
news to our sick comrades. When I was near enough
to distinguish, I saw an Indian with a woman whom
Mr. Leger was bringing along. I spoke to this man ;
he answered me, and then asked me several questions,
which I answered properly. At the sight of our cabin
he seemed surprised, and deeply touched at the extrem
ity to which we were reduced; he promised to come
back the next day, to go a hunting, and bring us in
whatever he killed.
We spent the night in this expectation, and at every
moment rendered thanks to Heaven for the rehef it had
just sent us. Day came, and seemed to bring in the
solace which had been promised the day before ; but
our hopes were deceived ; the morning ghded away and
the Indian did not keep his word. Some flattered
themselves that he would come in the afternoon; for
my own part, I suspected the cause of his delay ; I saw
that it would be prudent to go to his cabin, and ask him
why he had not come as he had promised, and if he
hesitated in* his answer, to force him to show us where
the boat was in which he had crossed. We started, but
judge of our consternation'; on our anival, we found
neither the Indian nor his canoe ; he had carried it off
during the night, and had retired to some place where
we could not find him.
To tell you the reason of such a course, I must
inform you that the Indians are more fearful of death,
and consequently of sickness, than all others. His flight
was induced by the excessive fear peculiar to that race ;
the display of dead bodies, the frightful state of our sick,

190 PERILS OF THE
the infection of their sores, had so alarmed the man, that,
to avoid being affected by the tainted air, he thought
best not to keep his word, and to change his abode, for
fear we should go and force him to return to our cabin
and aid us. '
Although this disappointment afflicted us greatly, we
should have felt it more if there had not been a second
canoe ; but we had to take measures to prevent its own
ers from escaping us. Our fear was that the Indian
who had deceived us, would inform his comrade of the
danger of visiting our cabin, and persuade him to go and
get his canoe by night, and remove from the place
where we were.
This reflection led us to resolve to carry off the canoe
with us, in order to oblige the Indian to come to war
cabin and help us, whatever repugnance he might seem
to have. But for this precaution we were lost ; not
one of the two occasions we had had would have served
us, and our death was certain.
When the canoe was brought, we fastened it to a tree,
so that it could not be carried off without making noise
enough to warn us that some one was detaching it.
""Some days were spent in waiting for the Indian to
whom the canoe belonged ; but we saw no one, and
during this time our three sick comrades died.
On the seventh, in the evening, Mr. le Vasseur was
surprised by a debility from which he never recovered,
and the other two seeing that even the Indian's aid
which we expected, would be useless to them, as they
were unable to walk, again prepared to put themselves
¦ in a state to appear before God.

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 191
The Sieur Vaillant, the younger, died on the tenth,
after suffering for a whole month all that can possibly
be imagined ; his patience always equalled his pain ; he
was sixteen years old ; the Mr. Vaillant whom we had
lost on the eleventh of March, was his father ; his youth
never seemed to him a ground for complaining at being
so soon taken from hfe ; in a word, he expired with that
resignation and courage which characterize the perfect
Christian. The Sieur de SennevUle imitated the virtues of the
younger VaiUant, or rather they were models to each
other ; the same pain, the same patience, the same res
ignation ; why cannot I set down all that these young
men said the few days previous to their death ? They
made me blush not to have as much courage to console
them, as. they had to suffer. With what confidence,
what respect, did they not speak of religion and the
mercy of our Lord? In what terms did they not
express their gratitude ? They were indeed- two noble
souls, and the best hearts I ever met in my life.
The latter several times begged me to cut his legs
off, to prevent the gangrene getting up ; his entreaties
were, as you wUl imagine, useless ; I constantly refused
to do as he wished, and showed him that I had no
instrument suitable for the operation, and that, even if I
had wished to risk it, it would only increase his pain
without guaranteeing him from death. He then put
his affairs in order, and wrote to his parents in the most
touching manner, and resigned his soul to God, on the
evening of the thirteenth, aged about twenty. He was
a Canadian, and son of the Sieur de SennevUle, who
was formerly a page to the Dauphiness, then a Musque-

192 PERILS OF THE
teer, and now King's Lieutenant at Montreal, where
he possesses considerable property.
The death of these three victims, of cold and hunger,
afflicted us greatly, although in fact their life was, so to
say, a burthen to us ; I felt a father's love for them,
and was abundantly repaid ; yet on reflecting that if
the Indian had come while they were yet alive, we
would have had to leave them alone and unassisted in
the cabin, or lose the chance of going, I felt that I
ought to thank our Lord for sparing me such a cruel
alternative, by calling them to himself. We had, more
over, no more provisions ; there was left only the small
ham of which I have spoken. This, we were afraid to
touch, and contented ourselves with the shell-fish which
Leger and I, from time to time, gathered on the sea
shore. Our weakness increased from day to day, and
we could scarcely stand, when I resolved to go in search
of the Indians whose coming we expected, and to use
their canoe for this purpose ; we got gum from the trees
to put it in order, and with our axe made paddles the
best way we could ; I knew how to paddle perfectly ;
this was a great advantage to accomplish our object, and
even to expose ourselves, in case we could not find the
Indians, to run the risk of crossing in the canoe ; it
was our last resource, since it was a question of pre
serving life, or voluntarily braving all. It was certain
that, by remaining" on that island, we had only a few
days to live ; crossing the gulf we ran no greater risk,
and might hope that our attempt would succeed.
All was ready on the 26th of April ; we cooked half
the ham, taking the broth first, and intending to reserve
the meat for our route ; but in the evening we were so

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 193
overcome by hunger, that we were forced to eat it all.
The next day we were no stronger than the day before,
and, on the 28th, we were without resources, and
with no hope of finding any in time to save us from
starvation. We accordingly prepared for death by re
citing the Litany of the Saints ; then we fell on our
knees, and lifting my hands to Heaven, I uttered this
prayer :
" Great God, if it is thy will that we share the fate
of the fourteen persons who have perished before our
eyes, delay not to fulfil it ; do not permit despair to
overcome us ; call us to thyself while we are resigned
to leave this world without regret ; but, Lord, if thou
hast not yet resolved our death, send us help, and give
us strength to support, without a murmur, the afflictions
which thy justice still prepares for us, that we may not
lose in an instant the fruit of the submission which we
have thus far had to the decrees of thy Providence."
I was concluding my prayer, when we heard the re
port of a gun, which we quickly answered ; we supposed
rightly, that it was the Indian who owned the canoe we
had ; he wished to see whether any of us were stiU
alive, and perceiving it by our gun, he kindled a fire to
pass the night. He did not suppose us able to go to
him, and clearly did not wish us to do so, for, as soon
as he saw us, he hid in the wood a part of a bear which
he had killed, and fled.
As we wore boots, we had a good deal of trouble to
reach his fire ; we had to cross a pretty large river,
thawed for some days ; we saw the tracks of his flight,
and followed them with incredible fatigue ; and even
this would have been useless, had not the Indian been
17

194 PERILS OF THE
compelled to slacken his pace to enable his son, a boy
seven years old, to follow him. This circumstance was
our salvation ; towards evening we overtook this man,
who asked us whether our sick were dead ; this question,
which he put with an air of fear, lest they should still
survive, left us no room to doubt but that the first
Indian had told him of our state, and the danger of
approaching our abode. I did not think proper at first
to answer his question, and without any more ado I
pressed him to give us something to eat, and for this
purpose to return. He durst not resist ; we were two
to one, well armed, and, what is more, resolved not to
leave him for a moment. He admitted that he had
almost a whole bear, which he did not refuse to share
with us. When we got to the place where he had hid
den this bear, we each eat a piece half cooked ; we then
made the Indian and his wife take the rest, and led
them to the spot where we had left Mr. Furst. This
poor man awaited us in extreme impatience. When
we arrived, he was ready to expire. You may imagine
his joy when we told him that we had food and assist
ance. He first ate a piece of bear meat ; we put the
pot on the fire, and took broth all night long, which we
spent without sleeping, for fear our Indian, who would
not sleep in the cabin, should decamp. When the day
came, I gave this man clearly to understand that he
must take us to the place where the boat was, in which
he had crossed, and, to induce him not to refuse our
request, I told him that we would use him very roughly
if he made any delay about it. The fear of being
kiUed made him speedily construct a sled, on which he
put his canoe ; he made signs for Leger and me to drag

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 195
it, wishing, doubtless, to tire us out, and oblige us to
give up aid which cost us so dear. We might have
forced him to carry the canoe himself, but this violence
seemed to me out of place ; it was better to manage our
Indian, and all we could do was to use precaution, so
as not to be duped. I wiU tell you, in my eighth letter,
what these precautions were, and that one, I believe,
wih enable me to conclude my shipwrecks, and tell
you of my return to France.
I am ever, with perfect attachment, my dear brother,
Your very affectionate brother,
Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect.
Paderborn, April 24, 1742.

LETTER Vin.
My Dear Brother : — I should have sent you the
close of my narrative last month, had I not been obliged
to spend some weeks in the countiy. During aU my
absence, I could not find a single quarter of an hour of
which I was master enough to devote to satisfying your
curiosity completely. I returned only yesterday to
Paderborn. I made several visits this morning ; some
you know are indispensable, and I sacrifice the rest of
the day.
I required of the Indian and his wife that they should
go ahead, under the pretext of clearing the way ; but I
did not end my precautions here. I told them that the
child would get tired on that march, and that he must

196 PERILS OF THE
be put in the canoe, and that it would afford us a pleas
ure to relieve him in that way.-
The heart of a parent is everywhere the same ; there
is none that does not feel obliged for favors done his
children, and that does not accept it with pleasure
This man's son was a hostage in our hands for his
parent's fidelity. We walked over a league, through
snow, water, or ice ; our fatigue was extreme, but the
hope of the fruit it was to bear supported and
encouraged us ; yet it was impossible for us to drag the
sled all the time. We gave out, and the Indian, touched
with our exhaustion, took the canoe on his shoulders
and carried it to the shore, and first put his wife and
child in. The question then was, which of us should
embark? The canoe could only hold four, and conse
quently only one of us three could profit by it. I first
offered to remain, and told Messrs. Furst and Leger to
settle between them which should go ; each wished to
have the preference, and feared to lose this opportunity
of avoiding a wretched end ; while they were disputing,
the Indian motioned me to come, and, after telling me
that he guessed the reason of the apparent dispute
between my two comrades, he said he would only take
me into the canoe, and without giving me time to
answer, he dragged me in, and put off.
Mr. Furst and Mr. Leger gave themselves up as lost ;
their cries expressed their despair ; I could not resist
them, and requested the Indian to put in shore to enable
me to say a word of consolation to my comrades.
When I got within speaking distance, I justified my
course by telling them what the Indian had said. I
advised them to follow the shore, and promised them,

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 197
on the word of a priest, that, as soon as I reached the
Indian cabin, I would come for them in a canoe. They
knew me incapable of perjury ; this assurance consoled
them, and without distrust they saw us put out to sea.
That day we landed ; the Indian took his canoe on
his shoulders, carried it near the wood, and laid it on the
snow. As I was tired from being so long on my knees
in the canoe, I was resting on a rock near the shore.
After a while, beheving that the Indian was kindling a
fire to sleep there, I took my gun, two paddles, and
two large pieces of meat, which I had taken to save Mr.
Furst and Mr.. Leger the trouble of carrying them, and
I ascended the heaps of ice, which were at least six feet
high. No sooner was I at the top, than I saw that my
Indian and his wife had put on their snow-shoes, a kind
of frame used by the Canadians to go faster over the
snow ; the man carried the child on his back, and both
were running as fast as they could. The cries I uttered
to stop them only made them redouble the celerity of
their course. I at once threw down my paddles,
descended the ice mound, and, with my gun and meat,
followed their trail for some time.
While climbing the mound of ice, I wounded myself
quite badly in the right leg, and the pain was renewed
every time that I sank in the snow as I ran along, that
is to say, every moment. I could no longer breathe,
and had to stop several times to take breath, and to rest
on the muzzle of my gun. I was in this posture, when
I heard Mr. Leger's voice — this meeting gave us both
extreme pleasure. I told him what had occurred, and
he, on his side, told me that Mr. Furst, overcome with
fatigue, had been unable to follow him, and that he had
17*

198 PERILS OF THE
left him stretched out on the snow, at a place quite
remote from where we were.
In any other circumstances, I should have flown to
his assistance ; but it was all -important for us to over
take our runaway. Mr. Leger, like myself, felt how
much we risked in delaying any longer to follow his
trail. We instantly started for the place where I knew he
had fled ; but, as he had left the snow to take the sea
shore, which was low and sandy, we were stopped for
some time. We kept on, however, and after walking
a quarter of an hour, again struck on the trail of the
Indian, who had taken off his snow-shoes, doubtless
thinking that I had been unable to follow him thus far.
This circumstance made us think that his cabin was not
far off : we redoubled our speed, and, as we got near
the wood, we heard the report of a gun ; we did not
think it worth while to answer it, for fear that, if it was
fired by the Indian whom we were pursuing, he would
resume his snow-shoes to fly with new swiftness, as
soon as he knew we were so near.
We accordingly continued to walk on, and, soon after
the first report, we heard another ; this made us suspect
that the Indian wished to light a fire there, to rest with
his wife and child, after satisfying himself that he was
not followed. This conjecture was false, as you will
soon see.
Ten minutes after the second report, we heard a third,
of which we saw the flash ; no answer from us ; we
advanced in silence. On our way, we found a large boat
on which somebody had been working the day before, and
twenty steps further, we saw a large cabin. We entered

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 199
with the air which suited our situation ; the tone of
suppliants was the only one that became us ; we took it
at first, but the old man, who spoke French, would not
permit us to continue it.
" Are not all men equals ? " said he, " at least ought
they not to be ? Your misfortune is a title to respect,
and I regard it as a favor, that Heaven, by bringing
you here, gives me an opportunity to do good to men,
whom misery stiU pursues. I only require of you to
tell me what has befallen you, since you were cast on
this island ; I should be glad to sympathize with you
over your past sufferings ; my sensibility will be a new
consolation." At the same time, he ordered them to cook our meat
with peas, and spare nothing, to show that humanity is
as much a virtue of the American Indian, as of more
civihzed people. When this old man had given his
orders, he begged us to gratify his curiosity ; I endeav
ored to forget none of the circumstances wliich you
know attended our misfortune, and, after having finished
my story, I begged the old man to tell me why the two
Indians, whom we had seen in the depth of our misery,
had refused to help us.
" Indians," said he, " tremble at the mere name of
sickness, and all my arguments have not yet dispelled
the terror which stiU fills all whom you see in this
cabin. It is not that they are insensible to the misery of
their brethren ; they would fain help them, but the fear
of breathing a tainted air checks the impulses of their
hearts, which are naturally compassionate. They fear
death, not like other men, but to such a degree, that I
know not what crimes they would not commit, to avoid it.

200 PERILS OF THE
Here," said he, pointing to an Indian behind the others,
" this is the one who broke his word to you ; he came
here early in the month, and told us .the wretched state
in which he had seen the Frenchmen, whom, he sup
posed all dead by that time, and whom he would have
willingly assisted, but for the corruption among them.
Here is the other," continued the old man, pointing to
the one whom I had pursued, "he got here an hour
before you, and told us that there were still three French
men alive, that they were no longer near their dead
companions, that they were in health, and could, he
thought, be aided without risk of bringing infection
with them ; we deliberated a moment, and then sent
one towards the quarter where you were, to show you,
by three reports of a gun, where our cabin was. Your
sick, alone, prevented our going to help you, and we
should, perhaps, have gone, if we had not been assured
that the aid we might send, would be of no use to you,
and might be of great injury to us, as your cabin was
filled and surrounded with infected air, which it would
be very dangerous to breathe."
Such language in the mouth of a man belonging to a
nation whom a false prejudice makes us suppose inca
pable of thinking or reasoning, and to whom we unjustly
deny sentiment and expression, surprised me greatly.
I even avow, that to have the idea of Indians which I
give you, it did not need less than my seeing them.
When the old man got through, I endeavored to
express all the gratitude which we felt. I begged him
to accept my gun, which its goodness and ornaments, for
it was covered with them, raised in value above all those
in the cabin. I then told him that fatigue had pre-

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 201
vented one of our comrades from following us, and that
it would be the crowning of his kindness- if he would
send two men to enable them to reach us. My entreat
ies were useless ; Indians fear to go out by night, and
nobody would undertake to go to the relief of Mr. Furst.
They promised me, .however, that they would go early
next morning ; this refusal gave me much pain ; the old
man perceived it, and, to console me said, that it would
be quite useless to try, and find my friend in the dark,
as he had no gun to show where he was, and that it was
better to wait for daylight. Mr. Furst accordingly
spent the night in the snow, where God alone could
shield him from death, for, even in the cabin, we endured
inexpressible cold. The Indians never make a fire
when they he down ; they have not even blankets, and
consequently we spent a very poor night. The next
day, as we were preparing to go after Mr. Furst, we saw
him arrive ; our footprints had guided him, and to over
take us he had profited by the time when the snow,
hardened by the night's cold, does not yield to the
weight of a man walking. Our first care was to warm
him, we then gave him some food, and we showed one
another the joy we felt to be together again.
We spent the twenty-ninth and thirtieth of April
with the Indians ; they seemed to be jealous who would
show us most attention, and endeavored to surpass each
other in this respect. Bear meat and caribou did not
fail us those two days, and they took care to give us
the most dehcate morsels. I know not whether the
duties of hospitality are better fulfilled by Europeans
than by these Indians. At least I am tempted to beheve
that these fulfil them with far better grace.

202 PERILS OF THE
On the first of May, they launched the large boat ;
we all embarked and set sail; the wind failed us
towards noon, at about six leagues from the main land.
This accident afflicted me; I feared to be unable to
relieve soon enough such of our comrades as had sur
vived at the place of the shipwreck. This fear made
me entreat the old man to give me two men, with a
bark canoe to go ashore. I tried to induce him to grant
my request by promising to send tobacco and brandy to
all in the large boat, as soon as I got to the French.
Much as he would have liked to oblige me, he first
consulted before making me any promise, and it was
not without difficulty that they paid any attention to my
request. They feared that a trip of six leagues was too
long for a canoe, and they did not wish to expose us to
perish. We accordingly started, and about half-past
eleven o'clock in the evening we reached land. I
entered the house of the French ; the first whom I saw
was Mr. Volant, a native of St. German-en-Laye, my
friend and master of this post. I could not fall into
better hands ; I found in a single man the sincere desire
and real power of serving me. He did not recognize
me at first, and in fact I was not recognizable ; as soon
as I told him my name, he lavished marks of friendship
on me, and the pleasure we had in embracing each
other was extreme on both sides. I told him first to
what I was bound ; with regard to the Indians he kept
my promise, and each one of our liberators had liquor
and tobacco. They arrived there only at ten o'clock in
the morning ; till that time I was recounting to Mr.
Volant all that had happened to me, and I insisted
especially on the fate of the twenty-four men who

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 203
were at the wreck. My friend was the more touched
by it as they were still in pain. He immediately fitted
out a boat to go to their rehef and to discover, if possible,
whether any one of the eleven men of the small boat
was still alive. .When he got to the neighborhood of
our shipwreck, he fired several guns to make himself
heard by those whom we had left there ; at the same
time he saw four men who fell on theh knees, and with
clasped hands begged him to save their lives. Their
wasted faces, so to speak, the sound of their voice, which
told that they were on the brink of the grave, and their
cries, pierced the heart of Mr. Volant. He advanced to
them, gave them some food, but with moderation for
fear of killing them, by overloading their system sud
denly. In spite of this wise precaution, one of these
four men, named Fenguay, a Breton by bhth, died after
drinking a glass of brandy.
My friend had the twenty-one men buried who had
died since we left them, and brought off the other three
who had borne up against hardship, hunger, and the
severity of the season ; they were, however, far from
being in perfect health ; one of them, named Tourrillet,
the master's mate from the department of Brest, was
slightly deranged, and the other two, by name, Boudet
and Bonau, both from Isle Rhe, were swollen over the
whole body.
Good food and the care we took of them restored
them, if not perfectly, at least enough to enable them to
start with us for Quebec.
Returning, Mr. Volant perceived, near the shore, one
who seemed to have been drowned, and some fragments
of a canoe ; he advanced to make sure of what he per-

204 PERILS OF THE
ceived ; and by firing several times, endeavored to see
whether there was any one there ; no one appeared ;
there was no answer, and all I can say is, that thirteen
men died of cold and hunger* as my friend saw a kind
of cabin some distance from the shore, which proved
that they had landed and, finding no relief there, had
perished miserably.
It is useless, I believe, to tell you the feelings which
we experienced, when we saw the three men arrive who
had escaped from the shipwreck ; you may imagine how
touching it was, and how little tears were spared.
After tenderly embracing each other, I asked them
how they had been able to live till then, and how the
others had died; they told me that cold and hunger
had carried off a part of their comrades, and that the
others had been consumed by ulcers horrible to look
upon ; that, for themselves, having become destitute of
all food, they had eaten the very shoes of their deceased
comrades after boiling' them in snow-water, and roasting
them on coals ; and this resource having failed, they
had even eaten the leather breeches of those whom
death had carried off; and that they had only one or
two, when Mr. Volant had come to their relief.
You see well, that the condition of these poor people
had not been less deplorable than ours, and they had,
perhaps, suffered much more than we, if for nothing
else than the necessity of eating the very garments of
those comrades whom they had lost. We remained
nearly six weeks at Mingan, all which time we spent
in thanking God for having preserved us amid so manv
dangers, and we did not pass a day without imploring

OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 205
his mercy, for the souls of forty-eight men who had
perished since our shipwreck.
The Sieur Leger left us, and started for Labrador,
intending to go to France on a St. Malo ship, and, on
the 8th of June, we took the occasion of a small craft
to return to Quebec. The wind was so favorable, that,
on the evening of the 13th, we landed. All were
amazed to see us again ; they thought us in France ;
every one eagerly asked us what had brought us back,
and what had happened to us after our departure. We
satisfied the curiosity of those whose attachment to us
made them interested in all that concerned us.
The next day, they conveyed to the hospital the
three saUors whom Mr. Volant had found at the place
of our shipwreck. Mr. Furst and I, each did, for our
part, what was necessary to restore us completely. As
soon as my Superiors saw that I was a little better, they
gave me the httle parish of Soulanges, which I served
for a year ; I then received a second obedience to go to
France. I accordingly embarked as chaplain, on board
the king's ship, " Le Rubis," commanded by Mr. De
la Joncaire, Capitaine de Haut-Bordt
We left Quebec the 21st of October, 1738, and, on
the 2d of December, we entered Port Louis, in Brittany,
to get some provisions, for we were running out. We
remained there about twenty days, and left it on the 22d,
with the " Facon," commanded by the Marquis de
Chavagnac, who came from Cape Breton.
About midnight, we anchored for about two hours, off
Belle Isle, to wait for a wind ; we then made sail for
Rochefort, which we reached next day, and there my
duties detained me tiU all was unloaded.
18

206 PERILS OF THE
Some days after, I started for Paris, whence I v/as
sent to Douay, in Flanders. Here I remained, till early
in 1740, when I was appointed Vicar of our Convent
of Avesnes, in Hainaut. I arrived there on the 25th
of January, the same day that I had left it, sixteen
years before. My Superiors, in sending me to that
house, had expected that some years' stay in my native
country would completely restore me, after the hard
ships I had undergone in my travels. I had conceived
the same hope, but it turned out quite the reverse ; my
stomach could no longer bear the food of that part ; I
had, so to speak, acquired a new constitution ; repose
was injurious to me, and I had to accustom myself to it
gradually. This made me solicit from my Superiors an
obedience to return to Paris, the air of which suited me
much better than that of my province. They were
kind enough to grant my request, and when I was per
fectly well, they appointed me chaplain in the French
army, commanded by the Marshal Maillebois.
Such, my dear brother, is the account of my voyages
and shipwrecks. I hope you will be better satisfied
with it, than with what I sent you first. You may rest
assured, that I have stated nothing that is not in accord
ance with strict truth. I hope, indeed, that the rumors
which begin to prevail, have some foundation ; I should
soon have the pleasure of embracing you at Frankfort,
and of proving to you that I am, and shaU be all my
life, with the sincerest friendship, dear brother,
Your very affectionate brother,
Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect.
Paderborn, June 18, 1742.

DOMHOE'S PUBLICATIONS.

DONAHOE'S
NEW AND IMPROVED EDITIONS OF
$tatrttarlt Cutljaltr ^nrtjer %mkst
Being the cheapest, most comprehensive, and suitable assortment for
general use published in the United States.

The new, superior Prater Book, recommended to be the most useful
ever printed, entitled
St. Joseph's Manual.
Printed with large type, on fine paper, containing 696 pages, 18mo.
Beautifully illustrated.
The merits of this Book, among the many which have been published as well
in Europe as America, are its peculiar adaptation to the wants of families, as of
individuals, for public as well as private devotion ; for those who live remote
from Churches, and cannot be present at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass on Sun
days and Holydays, as for those who enjoy greater privileges. It may be styled
a volume of prayer and religious instruction, since it not only contains devotions,
public and private, adapted to the wants of the many and for all seasons and
occasions of the ecclesiastical year, but is also explanatory and instructive upon
many points where information is frequently sought after. The care and attention
which have been given to the distribution of its varied contents will be equally
appreciated by those who have felt the importance of system and arrangement il
this particular.

Strongly bound in sheep, .
Roan, 
Roan, gilt, ....
Roan, gilt, with clasp,
Imitation Turkey, full gilt,
Imitation Turkey, full gilt, clasp,
Turkey, superior extra, various styles.
Turkey, superior extra, clasp,
Turkey, illuminated, .
Turkey, illuminated, clasp,
Turkey, bevelled, antique,
Turkey, bevelled, antique, clasp.
Velvet, embossed,
Velvet, embossed, clasp,
Velvet, gilt mountings,
Velvet, medallion on side, .
Velvet, mountings with morocco case

60. 75.00.25.25.50.25.00.
3 00.
3 50.
3 00.
3 60.
4 50.
6 00.
8 00.
9 00.
10 00.

DOMHOE'S PUBLICATIONS.

Key of Heaven.

32mo.

Roan, plain, ....

8 50

Roan, full gilt, ....

75
Roan, full gilt, clasp, .
1 00
Turkey, extra, various styles,
1 50.
Turkey, extra, clasp, .
2 00.
Turkey, super extra, bevelled, .
2 00.
Turkey, super extra, bevelled, clasp,
2 50.
Velvet, embossed,
3 00.
Velvet, embossed, clasp,
3 60.
Velvet, full mountings,
5 50.
Catholic Piety.
By the Rev. W. Gahan, O. S. A. 32mo.
Roan, plain, ....
$ 50.
Roan, full gilt 
75.
Roan, full gilt, clasp, .
1 00.
Turkey, extra, various styles,
1 50.
Turkey, extra, clasp, .
2 00.
Turkey, super extra, bevelled, .
2 00.
Turkey, super extra, bevelled, clasp,
2 50.
Velvet, embossed,
3 00.
Velvet, embossed, clasp,
3 50.
Velvet, full mountings,
5 50.
Christian's Guide to Heaven.
Witt the Epistles and Gospels for every day in the year. Nev*
Edition. 32mo.
Cloth, plainj
Cloth, gilt, .
Roan, plain,
Roan, gilt, .
Roan, gilt, clasp,
Turkey, extra, .
60.50.75.
1 00.
2 00.
Young Catholic's Manual.
Cloth, plain 
. 8 19-
38.
Cloth, gilt, .
Roan, plain, ....
... 38
Roan, gilt, .
60.
Turkey, extra, 
1 00.
DOXAHOE'S PUBLICATIONS.

Daily Exercise.
Cloth, plain  5 12J.
Cloth, gilt  25.
In Turkey, gilt edges,  38.

THE UNRIVALLED DOLLAR EDITION OF THE
Douay ZO±"fc>le>,
Containing 881 pages, 8vo. ; printed on good paper and strongly
bound in leather, for One Dollar ! Generally acknowledged the
cheapest Douay Bible in print.
Same edition, bound in roan,  % 1 50.
" " roan, gilt, . . . . 2 00.
" " Turkey, extra, . . . 3 50.

ROYAL OCTAVO EDITION OF THE
Douay Bitolo.

Super extra Turkey, bevelled, illustrated,
Extra Turkey, six plates, .
Imitation, full gilt, four plates, .
Imitation, gilt edge, two plates,
Sheep, strong 

81 00.
6 00.
3 50.
3 00.
1 50.

Douay TestaxxiQiit.

8vo

Cloth, plain,
Roan, gilt, .
Roan, full gilt, .
Turkey, extra,
Turkey, super, bevelled,

; 60.
1 50.
2 00.
2 50.
3 00.

CATHOLIC SUNDAY SCHOOL CLASS BOOK,
for the United States. 12 cents. Per dozen, $1.00.
EPISTLES AND GOSPELS for the Sundays and
principal Festivals throughout the year. Cloth, 19 cents.
ROSARY AND SCAPULA. Cloth, 25 cents.

DONAIIOE'S PUBLICATIONS.

THE OATHOLIO HISTORY OF NORTH AMER
ICA. Five Discourses. By Thomas D'Arcy McGee. lo cents.
THE HISTORY OF THE IRISH SETTLERS
IN NORTH AMERICA, from the earliest Period to the Census
of 1850. By T. D. McGee, Esq. This is a valuable text book for
Irishmen in America. 12mo.> cloth, 50 cents.
This is a very able sketch or series of sketches of the leading Irish settlers in
America, from its discovery by Columbus down to the present day. It will, no
doubt, gratify the national pride of Irishmen to see so formidable an array of
illustrious names, some conspicuous in the battle field, in political and mercan
tile life, at the bar, and in other callings. Ireland has certainly contributed
liberally to the glory of America, Her sons shine on the pages of our history
like diamonds of the first water. Air. McGee shows a liberal acquaintance with
our history, and his volume is eminently readable and instructive. — Fitigerald'a
City hem.
CATECHISM OF THE HISTORY OF IRELAND,
Ancient and Modern. By Wm. J. O'Neill Daunt, Esq., author of
" Saints and Sinners." 18mo., cloth, 25 cents.
ABRIDGMENT OF THE HISTORY OF IRE-
LAND, from its final Subjugation to the present Time. 32mo.,
cloth, 19 cents.
HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF O'GONNELL
AND HIS FRIENDS, including Rt. Rev. Drs. Doyle and Milner,
Thomas Moore, John Lawless, Thomas Furlong, Richard Lalor
Shiel, Thomas Steele, Counsellor Brie, Thomas Addis Emmet, "Wil
liam Cobbett, Sir Michael O'Loghlen, &c. By T. D. McGee, Esq.
12mo., cloth, 50 cents.
LIFE, TRIAL, AND CONVERSATIONS OF ROB
ERT EMMET, ESQ. Cloth, 25 cents.
THE EMIGRANTS GUIDE TO THE UNITED
STATES. Cloth, 25 cents.
FREEDOM TO IRELAND. The Art and Science
of War for the People. The Pike Exercise, Foot Lancers, Light
Infantry, and Rifle Drill. To which is added a short practical Trea
tise on Small Arms and Ammunition, Street and House Fighting, and
Field Fortification. By Oliver Byrne, Military, Mechanical, and
Civil Engineer. 50 cents.
MOORE'S MELODIES. With Airs. 32mo. Cloth,
25 cents.
THE GREEN BOOK; or, Gleanings from the Writ
ing Desk of a Literary Agitator. By John C. O'Callashan
12mo., cloth, 50 cents.

DONAHOE'S PUBHCATIONS,

THE CROSS AND THE SHAMROCK; or, How
to Defend the Faith. An Irish-American Catholic Tale, descriptive
of the temptations, sufferings, trials, and triumphs of the Children
of St. Patrick in the Great Republic of "Washington. A Book for
the entertainment and special instruction of the Catholic Male and
Female Servants of the United States. 12mo.f cloth, 50 cents
Opinions of tne Press.
A simple but touching record of the trials and temptations to which, too often,
Ihe Irish Catholic is exposed on arriving in the Great American Republic. But
the faith which has supported him in so many trials at home, which haa been a
lamp unto his f&et and as a staff in his hands, fails him not here. The " Cross
and the Shamrock " triumph over the assault of man and devil, of Protestant
poormaster and Evangelical philanthrophist — the latter the worst devil of the
two. Of the former we have a specimen in Van Stingey, — a Yankee Mr. Bum
ble,— and quite a gem in his way ; but our limited space forbids us to make
extracts. We have much pleasure in recommending this little work to our
readers. — Montreal True Witness. t
The anthor of this excellent tale is evidently an earnest man. Impressed
with a strong sense of the wrongs which the poor Irish at service too often en
dure, he has aimed to depict these in such a manner as may excite the attention
of careless employers, and point out to the sufferers themselves the rewards of
patience and perseverance. The characters are very well sketched, though the
incidents recording them are not very artistically arranged. The book is a prize
to oar Irish Catholic readers, notwithstanding its little defects of form.— Cath
olic Telegraph,
LOSS AND GAIN; or, the Story of a Convert. By
the Very Reverend John Heney Ne'wman, D. D., Rector of the
Catholic University of Ireland, &c. 12mo., cloth, 50 cents.
We were in England when this work first appeared, and well remember the
sensation it caused. The former friends of Mr. Newman were greatly scandal
ized as well as offended by it It proved, they said, such a deterioration on his
part. That lie should absolutely jest at the ecclesiological and liturgical foppe
ries of their party, astounded them. They could never believe Newman would
sink so low. We knew one young man, who had been a great admirer of Mr.
Newman, who wrote an answer to the twenty-seven questions which Willis
sent Reding. He was going to publish the answer in the English Churchman,
we beheve j but somehow one or two points were not quite clear to him, and
he reserved the paper till he had examined them a little further; he pursued the
examination till he became a Catholic. There never was a livelier or truer pic
ture of any state of society than " Loss and Gain " gives of the university class
In England. Dealing largely in satire, it has the great merit of absolute freedom
from exaggeration, and is at the same time one of the wittiest stories, and the
most devoid of malice that ever was penned. It is addressed to a very high order
of mind — too high for mere popularity ; but it will gain admirers forever, we
should think j yes, even when it is itself the only relic (like Fielding's novels III
profane liteiature) of the social state it describes. — Metropolitan Catholw Mag-

DONAHOE'S PUBHCATIONS.

THE TRIALS OF A MIND IN ITS PROGRESS
TO CATHOLICISM. In a Letter to his old Friends. By L. Sil-
liman Ives, LL. D., late Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church
in North Carolina. 12mo., cloth, 50 cents.
Opinions of the Press*
The book is every way equal to what was expected. It is well written, ar
gumentative, and convincing ; and no one, we think, seeking truth, can read it,
following step by step the progress of Dr. Ives's mind, without being convinced
of the important trutlis he is led to investigate. We are glad to hear it is
meeting with an unprecedented sale, as it will be the instrument of much
good. We earnestly recommend it to our readers and all those inquiring after
truth. — Pittsburg Catholic.
This long and eagerly-expected publication has at length reached the West.
The delay in forwarding it arose, aa we learn from a note of the publisher, out
of the immense and unprecedented demands for it which are reaching him from
all parts of the country, and which several printing presses, kept in constant
play, have as yet been ineffective to supply. The typography of the work is
extremely creditable to Mr. Donahoe, the enterprising publisher. On this point
he has left the reader nothing to desire, either as respects clearness and bril
liancy of impression, or the neat, compact, and convenient form in which tho
book is presented to the public.
Of the merits of the work itself we presume we need not speak at length,
after the specimen of its style and manner which we gave last week. Written
in a tone of rare modesty and translucent candor, it still does not lack that vigor
and purity of style, deep research, cogent reasoning, and simple, touching elo
quence which might be expected from the reputation for erudition and mental
force which Dr. Ives always had among his co-religionists up to the period when
he resolved upon the rending sacrifice of which this volume fumishes the rea
sons. Its publication will show the desperate falseness of the allegation by
which the ex-bishop's friends endeavored to account for his conversion, and
which it is probable themselves never believed. The Protestant Churchman,
we observe, in noticing the work, says it " should like to see those bishops, who
pronounced Dr. Ives mad, undertake to refute this book."
This book will prubably have a larger sale than any controversial work evei
published in this country. The copies for sale at the office of the Vindicator are
already nearly all gone ; but a further supply will soon reach us. — Detroit Cath
olic Vindicator. Protestant Opinions.
The Newport (R. I.) News thus criticizes the book : — " This will be a work of
exceeding interest both to Catholics and Protestants, as Dr. Ives gives his rea
sons for leaving the Episcopal Church and entering the Catholic Church. In
whatever light Protestants may regard this change in the religious opinions of
the author, they certainly cannot charge him with any ambitious, dishonest, or
unholy motive, because, as far as distinctions on earth are concerned, he had
gained all that man can have in the ministry, as far as preferment is concerned
in the Episcopal Church. He was one of its bishops for more than twenty
years , and, in entering the Church of Rome, he acquires no distinction. He,
being a married man, cannot ever be a priest in that Church. Under these cir
cumstances, we think that all must at least give him credit for honesty and sin
cerity in the course which he has pursued. The work is carefully and elabo
rately written, and indicates throughout the fervency of a Christian spirit. We
commend it to the perusal of all Christians, that they may fully comprehend the
motives which induced the step vvhich the author has taken, and the reasons
which led him into the Catholic Church."
This is a plain and lucid statement of the difficulties which beset the mind "
of Bishop Ives during his ministry in the Episcopal Church, and of the satis
faction that he lias felt since hia union with the Church of Rome. He has
given the highest evidence of the sincerity of his convictions, whatever our
opinion may bo of their soundness. A bishop, loved, honored, and respected,
he has sacrificed position and fortune in the pursuit of what he believed to be
the truth. Being a person of learning, also, not misled by a partial view of tho
question, his book commands the calm investigation of every mind soUcitoui
for the truth. — Phila. City Item.

YALE UNIVERSITY