Letter and Narrative of Father Isaac Jogues, 1643, 1645. In J. Franklin Jameson, ed., Narratives of New Netherland, 1609-1664 (Original Narratives of Early American History). NY: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1909.
Letter of Father Isaac Jogues to His Superior in Canada, 1643.
I STARTED the very day of the Feast of Our Blessed Father Saint Ignatius from the village where I was captive, in order to follow and accompany some Iroquois who were going away, first for trade, then for fishing. Having accomplished their little traffic, they stopped at a place seven or eight leagues below a settlement of the Dutch, which is located on a river where we carried on our fishing. While we were setting snares for the fish, there came a rumor that a squad of Iroquois, returned from pursuit of the Hurons, had killed five or six on the spot, and taken four prisoners, two of whom had been already burned in our village, with cruelties extraordinary. At this news, my heart was pierced through with a most bitter and sharp pain, because I had not seen, or consoled, or baptized those poor victims. Consequently, fearing lest some other like thing should happen in my absence, I said to a good old woman—who, by reason of her age, and the care that she had for me, and the compassion that she felt toward me, called me her nephew, and I called her my aunt—I then said to her: "My aunt, I would much like to return to our cabin; I grow very weary here." It was not that I expected more ease and less pain in our village, where I suffered a continual martyrdom, being constrained to see with my eyes the horrible cruelties which are practised there; but my heart could not endure the death of any man without my procuring him holy baptism. That good woman said to me: "Go then, my nephew, since thou art weary here; take something to eat on the way." I embarked in the first canoe that was going up to the village, always conducted and always accompanied by the Iroquois. Having arrived, as we did, in the settlement of the Dutch, through which it was necessary for us to pass, I learn that our whole village is excited against the French, and that only my return is awaited, for them to burn us. Now for the cause of such news. Among several bands of Iroquois, who had gone to war against the French, the Algonquins and the Hurons, there was one which took the resolution to go round about Richelieu, in order to spy on the French and the savages, their allies. Certain Huron of this band, taken by the Hiroquois, and settled among them, came to ask me for letters, in order to carry them to the French, hoping, perhaps, to surprise some one of them by this bait; but, as I doubted not that our French would be on their guard, and as I saw, moreover, that it was important that I should give them some warning of the designs, the arms and the treachery of our enemies, I found means to secure a bit of paper in order to write to them, the Dutch according me this charity. I knew very well the dangers to which I was exposing myself; I was not ignorant that, if any misfortune happened to those warriors, they would make me responsible therefor, and would blame my letters for it. I anticipated my death; but it seemed to me pleasant and agreeable, employed for the public good, and for the consolation of our French and of the poor savages who listen to the word of Our Lord. My heart was seized with no dread at the sight of all that might happen therefrom, since it was a matter of the glory of God; I accordingly gave my letter to that young warrior, who did not return. The story which his comrades have brought back says that he carried it to the fort of Richelieu, and that, as soon as the French had seen it, they fired the cannon upon them. This frightened them so that the greater part fled, all naked, abandoning one of their canoes, in which there were three arquebuses, powder and lead, and some other baggage. These tidings being brought into the village, they clamor aloud that my letters have caused them to be treated like that; the rumor of it spreads everywhere; it comes even to my ears. They reproach me that I have done this evil deed; they speak only of burning me; and, if I had chanced to be in the village at the return of those warriors, fire, rage and cruelty would have taken my life. For climax of misfortune, another troop—coming back from Montreal, where they had set ambushes for the French—said that one of their men had been killed, and two others wounded. Each one held me guilty of these adverse encounters; they were fairly mad with rage, awaiting me with impatience. I listened to all these rumors, offering myself without reserve to our Lord, and committing myself in all and through all to His most holy will. The captain of the Dutch settlement where we were, not being ignorant of the evil design of those barbarians, and knowing, moreover, that Monsieur the Chevalier de Montmagny had prevented the savages of New France from coming to kill some Dutch, disclosed to me means for escape. "Yonder," said he to me, "is a vessel at anchor, which will said in a few days; enter into it secretly. It is going first to Virginia, and thence it will carry you to Bordeux or to La Rochelle, where it is to land." Having thanked him, with much regard for his courtesy, I tell him that the Iroquois, probably suspecting that some one had favored my retreat, might cause some damages to his people. "No, no," he answers, "fear nothing; this opportunity is favorable; embark; you will never find a more certain way to escape." My heart remained perplexed at these words, wondering if it were not expedient for the greater glory of our Lord that I expose myself to the danger of the fire and to the furty of those barbarians, in order to aid in the salvation of some soul. I said to him then: "Monsieur, the affair seems to me of such importance that I cannot answer you at once; give me, if you please, the night to think of it. I will commend it to our Lord; I will examine the arguments on both sides; and to-morrow morning I will tell you my final resolution." He granted me my request with astonishment; I spent the night in prayers, greatly beseeching our Lord that he should not allow me to reach a conclusion by myself; that he should give me light, in order to know His most holy will; that in all and through all I wished to follow it, even to the extent of being burned at a slow fire. The reasons which might keep me in the country were consideration for the French and for the Savages; I felt love for them, and a great desire to assist them, insomuch that I had resolved to spend the remainder of my days in that captivity, for their salvation; but I saw the face of affairs quite changed.
In the first place, as regarded our three Frenchmen, led captive into the country as well as I: one of them, named Rene Goupil, had already been murdered at my feet; this young man had the purity of an angel. Henry, whom they had taken at Mont-Real, had fled into the woods. While he was looking at the cruelties which were practised upon two poor Hurons, roasted at a slow fire, some Iroquois told him that he would receive the same treatment, and I, too, when I should return; these threats made him resolve rather to plunge into the danger of dying from hunger in the woods, or of being devoured by some wild beast, than to endure the torments which these half-demons inflicted. It was already seven days since he had disappeared. As for Guilllaume Cousture, I saw scarcely any further way of aiding him, for they had placed him in a village far from the one where I was; and the savages so occupied it on the hither side of that place, that I could no longer meet him. Add that he himself had addressed me in these words: "My Father, try to escape; as soon as I shall see you no more, I shall find the means to get away. You well know that I stay in this captivity only for the love of you; make, then, your efforts to escape, for I cannot think of my liberty and of my life unless I see you in safety." Furthermore, this good youth had been given to an old man, who assured me that he would allow him to go in peace, if I could obtain my deliverance; consequently I saw no further reason which obliged me to remain on account of the French.
As for the savages, I was without power and beyond hope of being able to instruct them; for the whole country was so irritated against me that I found no more any opening to speak to them, or to win them; and the Algonquins and the Hurons were constrained to withdraw from me, as from a victim destined to the fire, for fear of sharing in the hatred and rage which the Iroquois felt against me. I realized, moreover, that I had some acquaintance with their language; that I knew their country and their strength; that I could perhaps better procure their salvation by other ways than by remaining among them. It came to my mind that all this knowledge would die with me, if I did not escape. These wretches had so little inclination to deliver us, that they committed a treachery against the law and the custom of all these nations. Savage from the country of the Sokokiois, allies of the Iroquois, having been seized by the upper Algonquins and taken a prisoner to the Three Rivers, or to Kebec, was delivered and set at liberty by the mediation of Monsieur the Governor of New France, at the solicitation of the Fathers. This good savage, seeing that the French had saved his life, sent in the month of April, some fine presents, to the end that they should deliver at least one of the French. The Iroquois retained the presents, without setting one of them at liberty, which treachery is perhaps unexampled among these peoples, for they inviolably observe this law, that whoever touches or accepts the present which is made to him, is bound to fulfil what is asked of him through that present. This is why, when they they are unwilling to grant what is desired, they send back the presents or make others in place of them. But to return to my subject: having weighed before God, with all the impartiality in my power, the reasons which inclined me to remain among those barbarians or to leave them, I believed that our Lord would be better pleased if I should take the opportunity to escape. Daylight having come, I went to greet Monsieur the Dutch Governor, and declared to him the opinions that I had adopted before God. He summons the chief men of the ship, signifies to them his intentions, and exhorts them to receive me, and to keep me concealed—in a word, to convey me back to Europe. They answer that, if I can once set foot in their vessel, I am in safety; that I shall not leave it until I reach Bordeaux or La Rochelle. "Well, then," the Governor said to me, "return with the savages, and toward the evening, or in the night, steal away softly and move toward the river; you will find there a little boat which I will have kept all ready to carry you secretly to the ship."
After very humbly returning thanks to all those gentlemen, I withdrew from the Dutch, in order better to conceal my design. Toward evening, I retired with ten or twelve Iroquois into a barn, where we passed the night. Before lying down, I went out of that place, to see in what quarter I might most easily escape. The dogs of the Dutch, being then untied, run up to me; one of them, large and powerful, flings himself upon my leg, which is bare, and seriously injures it. I return immediately to the barn; the Iroquois close it securely and, the better to guard me, come to lie down beside me, especially a certain man who had been charged to watch me. Seeing myself beset with those evil creatures, and the barn well closed, and surrounded with dogs, which would betray me if I essayed to go out, I almost believed that I could not escape. I complained quietly to my God, because, having given me the idea of escaping, Concluserat vias meas lapidibus quadris, et in loco spatioso pedes meos. He was stopping up the ways and paths of it. I spent also that second night without sleeping; the day approaching, I heard the cocks crow. Soon afterward, a servant of the Dutch farmer who had lodged us in his barn, having entered it by some door or other, I accosted him softly, and made signs to him (for I did not understand his Flemish), that he should prevent the dogs from yelping. He goes out at once, and I after him, having previously taken all my belongings, which consisted of a little Office of the Virgin, of a little Gerson, and a wooden Cross that I had made for myself, in order to preserve the memory of the sufferings of my Savior. Being outside of the barn, without having made any noise or awakened my guards, I cross over a fence which confined the enclosure about the house; I run straight to the river where the ship was—this is all the service that my leg, much wounded, could render me; for there was surely a good quarter of a league of road to make. I found the boat as they had told me, but, the water having subsided, it was aground. I push it, in order to set it afloat; not being able to effect this, on account of its weight, I call to the ship, that they bring the skiff to ferry me, but no news. I know not whether they heard me; at all events no one appeared. The daylight meanwhile was beginning to discover to the Iroquois the theft that I was making of myself; I feared that they might surprise me in this innocent misdemeanor. Weary of shouting, I return to the boat; I pray God to increase my strength; I do so well, turning it end for end, and push it so hard that I get it to the water. Having made it float, I jump into it, and go all alone to the ship, where I go on board without being discovered by any Iroquois. They lodge me forthwith down in the hold; and in order to conceal me they put a great chest over the hatchway. I was two days and two nights in the belly of that vessel, with such discomfort that I thought I would suffocate and die with the stench. I remembered then poor Jonas, and I prayed our Lord, Ne fugerem a facie Domini, that I might not hide myself before his face, and that I might not withdraw far from his wishes; but on the contrary, infatuaret omnia consilia quae non essent ad suam gloriam, I prayed him to overthrow all the counsels which should not tend to this glory, and to detain me in the country of those infidels, if he did not approve my retreat and my flight. The second night of my voluntary prison, the minister of the Dutch came to tell me that the Iroquois had indeed made some disturbance, and that the Dutch inhabitants of the country were afraid that they would set fire to their houses or kill their cattle; they have reason to fear them, since they have armed them with good arquebuses. To that I answer: Si propter me orta est tempestas, projicite me in mare: "If the storm has risen on my account, I am ready to appease it by losing my life;" I had never the wish to escape to the prejudice of the least man of their settlement. Finally, it was necessary to leave my cavern; all the mariners were offended at this, saying that the promise of security had been given me in case I could set foot in the ship, and that I was withdrawn at the moment when it would be requisite to bring me thither if I were not there; that I had put myself in peril of life by escaping upon their words; that it must needs be kept, whatever the cost. I begged that I be allowed to go forth, since the captain who had disclosed to me the way of my flight was asking for me. I went to find him in his house, where he kept me concealed; these goings and these comings having occurred by night, I was not yet discovered. I might indeed have alleged some reasons in all these encounters; but it was not for me to speak in my own cause, but rather to follow the orders of others, to which I submitted with good heart. Finally, the captain told me that it was necessary to yield quietly to the storm, and wait until the minds of the savages should be pacified; and that every one was of this opinion. So there I was, a voluntary prisoner in his house, from which I am writing back to you the present letter. And if you ask my thoughts in all these adventures, I will tell you.
First, that that ship which had wished to save my life, sailed without me.
Secondly, if our Lord do not protect me in a manner well-nigh miraculous, the savages, who go and come here at every moment, will discover me; and if ever they convince themselves that I have not gone away, it will be necessary to return into their hands. Now if they had such a rage against me before my flight, what treatment will they inflict on me, seeing me fallen back into their power? I shall not die a common death; the fire, their rage, and the cruelties which they invent, will tear away my life. God be blessed forever. We are incessantly in the bosom of His divine and always adorable providence. Vestri capilli capitis numerati sunt; nolite timere; nultis passeribus meliores estis vos quorum unus non cadet super terram sine patre vestro; he who has care for the little birds of the air does not cast us into oblivion. It is already twelve days that I have been concealed; it is quite improbable that misfortune will reach me.
In the third place, you see the great need that we have of your prayers and of the holy Sacrifices of all our Fathers; procure us this alms everywhere, ut reddat me Dominus idoneum ad se amandum, fortem ad patiendum, constantem ad perseverandum in suo amore, et servitio, to the end that God may render me fit and well disposed to love him; that he may render me strong and courageous to suffer and to endure; and that he may give me a noble constancy to persevere in his love and in his service—this is what I would desire above all, together with a little New Testament from Europe. Pray for these poor nations which burn and devour one another, that at last they may come to the knowledge of their Creator, in order to render to Him the tribute of their love. Memor sum vestri in vinculis meis; I do not forget you; my captivity cannot fetter my memory. I am, heartily and with affection, etc.
From Renselaerivich, this 30th of August, 1643.
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