USA > Connecticut > Litchfield County > Litchfield > More chronicles of a pioneer school, from 1792 to 1833, being added history on the Litchfield Female Academy kept by Miss Sarah Pierce and her nephew, John Pierce Brace > Part 30
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He then turned to the wondering Grace, and in French exclaimed, "Come to me, daughter!"
Grace started at the change of voice. She understood not the words, but the tone of affection is an instructive one and known and felt as an universal language. She drew her little sun-bonnet from her head with one hand, and threw back with the other the tangled masses of golden curls that covered her face and looked up to Father Rasles in wonder as to a superior being, so thrilling was that voice of kind- ness. The tears started into her eyes, the little lips swelled, and the chest heaved with emotion.
"Come to me, daughter," said he again, in English, for Father Sebas- tian had a perfect command of that language, likewise.
She cast herself at his feet in a paroxysm of tears and was soon sobbing herself to sleep on the old man's bosom.
CHAPTER XVIII
Months have rolled on. The Abenakis have made their demand for the restoration of their land, wrongfully included in the session of Acadia or Nova Scotia and have been refused. The loud talk of war and reprisals - such sad reprisals as savages make - began to be heard in the village on the Kennebec. Military stores of arms and ammunition had been received from Quebec, and a communication with them from Vaudreuil marking out a line of conduct that should arouse the Indian tribes to war, and yet prevent the agency of the French Governor of Canada from being perceived. Father Sebastian was prudent and advised the most secret management.
In the meanwhile, our little friend Grace had become partially reconciled to her position, won by the kindness of her new protector.
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The laugh had returned to her sunny face and the light to her lovely blue eyes. Her golden curls waved in the Northern wind as she joined in the sports of the young Indians, under the tall pine trees that en- closed the encampment.
She was a universal favorite. She amused the young papooses, suspended from the low limbs of the trees, while their mothers. were employed in the rude cultivation of the soil. She was always ready to guide the tottling children to the nearest place of frolic or to the whortleberry bushes on the neighboring hill. The sunny benevolence that formed the instinctive basis of her natural character was never more fully called out into action and never more strikingly received its reward. The rude, savage warriors were softened by the bright beauty of the Violet Eye, as they named her. Her utter fearlessness interested them. She never imagined that they could or would in- jure, and her sportive character pleased their wild ideas. She could not of course at first converse with them, and therefore never learnt from them the catastrophe of her brother Jeduthun or their original feelings towards her. Her very confidence in them made her safe while among them, so that she became a universal favorite.
It is not to be wondered at that Father Rasles became strangely attached to the child. The vows of his order had excluded all family love and domestic attachments from his heart. The heathen, to whom he had devoted his energies, were not, as individuals, of a character to create affection. He had grown ascetic, stern, and cold among them. To lead them to the cross and to heaven - to build up a church in the wilderness - to civilize and soften their rugged natures - had filled his whole heart or rather, he would have said, his whole will, for he vainly supposed the heart was dead within him, and that it was not possible for it to throb with an individual attachment. He looked upon all earthly affections as beneath him - as belonging to an in- ferior race above whom he walked and talked and acted, though among them. So long had this callousness of heart existed, that he had for- gotten all ties of worldly relationship, or looked upon them as the mere playthings of a child's existence.
But the scene was now changed. The rock had been struck by Na- ture's rod, as powerful as that of Moses, and the waters gushed out in streams. The old man had now an individual object of attachment - a tie that bound him to humanity. The yearnings of his heart over this stray lamb that had entered his fold might seem extravagant, did we not know that the same character which led him to sacrifice his time and intellect and life in the cause of the heathen showed that there were powerful germs of human affections buried in his heart. The fountain was there. The stream now burst forth.
He could speak English with facility but he taught his little pupil
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French and Indian words for the common things around them, and the Latin of his prayers and religious formal duties; so that Grace's common language was a perfect polyglot of the four tongues.
He soon found that the child had a taste for drawing, and he most assiduously cultivated it, being by no means a mean proficient in both this art and that of painting. The Madonna and the child were the first rude efforts of Grace's sketches, while the old man patiently stood over her, showed her where a false mark had been made, or a false touch added, and guided her into a love for the execution of the beautiful.
Grace's character seemed to expand under the new and peculiar circumstances in which she was placed, with wonderful rapidity. The instructions of her father on religious observances and doctrines of Martha on common duties, and of her grandmother upon moral pro- prieties and the effect of little things in the formation of character, were now all brought back by memory and applied by her quick mind to her present situation, sometimes usefully, sometimes without aim. Even the precise or prudish rules of female conduct, which had been the substance of many a scolding from Prudence now rose up to guide her. She chose to go to bed in her own little closet alone, and insisted upon always dressing before Father Rasles came into her room to call her to matins. She had an instinctive dread of thunder, and at night she was aroused by its violence; but she preferred to remain shaking with terror on her own couch to going into the Father's room in her nightdress. She remembered how Prudence had scolded her for running into the West room in that dress, when James Hinsdale was with Martha. Her grandmother thought that Prudence was prudish at the time but the effect on Grace's mind was a useful one. She was taught by it that girls must not only be pure, but seem so.
Father Sebastian could not understand this feeling. He never had mingled with women. He knew nothing of them but from the coarse, savage life of the squaws of his cherished tribe. The recollection even of his mother was a faint one, almost obliterated by the cloister principle of his life. He could not understand the risings of instinctive female delicacy in Grace's mind. But he submitted to it, and respected it as something he could not fathom, for he was too fond of the child to dispute with her on things which he regarded as mere trifles. The very coldness of character which had carried Father Rasles through the trials of his savage life without a knowledge that he had been tried, had prevented him not only from acquiring a coarse character, but even coarse habits. He was a superior being to the Indians, and, to retain the prestige of that superiority, he perceived that he must never sink himself by the least use of their coarseness. The savages felt this refinement, and, while it acted reflectively upon them, it
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increased their respect for him. The advantages of that refinement were now experienced by our little friend in the new relation in which she was placed.
The only subject of absolute disagreement between the old man and his young pupil was on the topic of religion. To save the soul of this beloved child from the eternal punishment due to heretics was the sincere desire of the worthy Father. The means that he employed showed his Jesuitical education. He took it for granted that he was, of course, right, and that his forms were right, and were essential to salvation. He admitted of no dispute upon the subject. Compliance with those forms was rigidly exacted, but with no violence and no quarrel. They were gradually but surely substituted for all the little religious forms of Grace's experience.
For example: Grace had been in the Indian village a few days, and had become familiarized to Father Sebastian by his uniform kindness and deep fatherly attachment, when in her confiding artless way, "Father Rasles," says she, "why do you not hear me say, 'Our Father' as Grandmother used to do, before I went to bed?"
"That I am willing to do," and he began teaching her the Latin form. Grace did not rebel, but with much curiosity inquired, "why she must say it in Latin?"
"Because that was the language spoken in the Roman Empire at the time of our Saviour's mission on earth. It is the language used all over the world, by all those that address God in the true Church."
Grace looked up silently, but was listening. Some of the ideas in Father Rasles's reasoning, she did not quite comprehend, and it was well she did not the expression, "the Church!"
"You would like, would you not," continued Father Rasles, "to unite with all good children in saying the prayer alike? It will be pleasant for you to reflect that you use the same words the saints in heaven once used, and that are now employed by the saints on earth."
Grace assented cheerfully; the idea of such an association was pleasant.
"But father and grandmother and Martha do not use the Latin."
"It is because they are-" heretics, Father Sebastian was going on to say, but he checked himself. "It is because they are ignorant, having no one to teach them the Latin."
Little Grace showed out one of the principles of human nature in rejoicing that she should thus know more than even her grandmother, and commenced learning the prayer with much zeal. Father Rasles taught her the meaning of each word as she committed it to memory, so that in a few days she could repeat the whole prayer. The Jesuit had accomplished two objects by this proceeding, Grace had advanced one step into the formal services of the Roman Church, and he had
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thus obtained a control unknown to her, over the time which had been always associated in the child's mind with religious instruction. He thus became her spiritual guide without her being conscious of it.
A Latin prayer to the Virgin Mary was the next effort. Father Sebastian waited for some time before taking this step. He had waited for the genuine effects of kindness upon the mind of an ingenuous child, like Grace Welles. She was peculiarly susceptible to kindness and love, and was prepared, from the affection that was gradually dawning in her heart for the old man, to receive his doctrines without hesitation.
But he found the child's mind a curious one. The knowledge of scriptural doctrine which had been the topic of her father's instruc- tions, and the devotion due to God to be exhibited practically which had been the theme of her grandmother's teachings, were now part and parcel of Grace's mind, woven into the very tissue of her mental being. The conditions of the colony and the character of the period were such that she had been taught little else than the scriptures. There were no books in those days beyond the Bible, and that was universally read both at school and at home. Hence, young as she was, Grace's good memory supplied her often with ready texts of scrip- ture to answer the sophistries of the Jesuit.
Grace had no wish to leave anything unless she understood it, and Father Sebastian had no desire she should. He explained in English the meaning of the Latin words, but here he encountered a difficulty at the very outset.
"Who is the Virgin Mary?" was the question, "and why should I pray to her? Grandmother never prayed to her."
"Didn't your grandmother pray to Christ?"
" Yes."
"But Mary was Christ's mother. If any of your neighbors wished to obtain anything of your father, would not they obtain it the more readily by first asking your grandmother to assist them by her influence ?"
The child was silent for a while-"But father says that Christ is God and that only God is to be worshipped."
"But Mary is the mother of Christ and according to your father's idea, the mother of God."
Grace was puzzled. Such relationship in heaven she could not comprehend. The distinction between Christ the son of Mary and Christ as the same with the Father, was beyond her depth. Father Rasles saw her difficulty.
"Perhaps your father did not mean the same as God but equal to God in power and glory - as a son, when grown up, may be consid- ered equal to his father. Christ, my dear child, has a double nature. From Mary he derived his human nature through which he suffered
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and died, and from God his Father a Divine nature by which he lives and reigns. His death saves us from Hell. As it is in his human ca- pacity that he dies, is it wrong to request his mother, to whom he owes that human capacity, to pray for us? But I see that you are yet puzzled. All that this prayer requests is, 'Ora pro nobis' -'pray for us' - can it be wrong to ask the Mother of Christ to pray for us?"
Grace was silent and learnt the prayer.
When she had perfectly committed it and remembered all its mean- ings Father Rasles, at her hour of devotion, took her into the chapel, and said it was proper to repeat the prayer to the Virgin herself, and bade her kneel before his most striking picture while she uttered it.
But here Grace rebelled. The instructions of her father now pro- duced their fruit.
"That isn't the Virgin Mary. That is only a picture. It will be bowing down to idols and images. My father has often talked to us about the Papists worshipping pictures. Are you one of the Papists?"
She appeared much alarmed and began to shed tears.
A slight flush passed over Father Sebastian's pale face, but the Jesuit conquered the man, and his countenance resumed its wonted pallor. He waited until Grace was partially recovered from her ex- citement.
"You were wishing, yesterday, my dear child, when you were engaged in sketching the head of this Our Lady of the Wilderness, that you could sketch your mother's or your sister's head. Supposing their pictured faces were hanging before you, and you had received a letter from them, would you not be happier in reading that letter while gazing at their images?"
But Father Sebastian had now gone too far. He had touched a chord in the music of her soul that vibrated sad memories. The child cast herself on the floor in a paroxysm of tears.
"Oh mother! Oh sister Martha! Shall I never see you again? I have no mother and no sisters, and no grandmother in these dark pine woods among the hateful Redmen!"
It required the whole effort of Father Rasles's sympathy to hush the child to sleep and forgetfulness.
CHAPTER XIX
The next morning was bright and beautiful and Grace's golden curls were early seen, glancing in the sunlight over the flowers of her little garden. Father Rasles was careful not to allude to the sorrow of the evening previous, or to speak of the worship of the image of the Virgin for some days.
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The worthy Father was exceedingly careful never to allude to religious controversies except in the evening hour devoted to religious duties, strengthening, by the most affectionate attention, during the day, the influence which he had acquired over the child's mind. The day's duties when Father Sebastian could oversee them were devoted to drawing and coloring or the acquisition of the French language or occasionally of short Latin sentences. The Abenaki tongue she constantly acquired some knowledge of by her intercourse with the Indian families and children which was of daily occurrence.
One thing showed Father Rasles's attention to her wants. He had early sent for a suitable supply of necessary night and day garments for such a child from Quebec, stating in a letter to the lady of the Governor General, the use to which he wished to apply them. They arrived safely, accompanied by a letter from Madame Vaudreuil to the little captive, whose lovely face had been transmitted to her, by the skill of the Father. It was an additional motive to acquire the French tongue to be able to read and understand this kind epistle. A second supply of these garments arrived the very day after the occurrences of the last chapter, and tended wonderfully to soothe her feelings and wean her mind from its old memories.
But Father Rasles felt that the evenings were his own, and he never relaxed his peculiar religious teachings, however wearied he might feel by the efforts of the day in the objects of his Mission.
On one of the Saints' days, Father Sebastian turned Grace's thoughts from the worship of the Virgin to the invocation of that particular saint.
"But Father Rawle," she said, "do you worship the Saint?"
"By no means: worship is confined to God."
"But you pray to him."
"Prayer is not worship. It is simply asking a favor."
"Why do you ask the Saint and not God?"
"Christ may be influenced by the requests in heaven, of those who were his friends on earth. You ask your grandmother to pray for you. Would her prayers in heaven be any less efficacious than when uttered on earth?"
"But does the Saint hear?"
"We may hope he will, as we speak to him on the night consecrated to him."
"But if anybody else should speak to St. John tonight, in any other town, could he hear them?"
"God hears prayers sent to him from all parts of the earth."
We trust that the worthy Father's intellect was not so warped by the dogmas of his Church that he could not himself perceive his miser- able sophistry which gave the saints the omniscience of the Deity.
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" Besides, does n't my little Grace often speak to her distant friends, through the teachings of her fancy, as if they were present and listen- ing to her? She does this to keep up a knowledge of their love to her in her heart. I heard her say, today, over the flowers she had gathered in the forest, 'Oh, sister Martha, I wish you could see these beauties!' A prayer to Saint John may have the same use. It may teach us to remember the beautiful perfections of his own char- acter, and the love he bears to every member of the Holy Catholic Church."
The messenger who had brought the new clothes to Grace, had brought dispatches to Father Rasles to be very wary in his manage- ment of the savages in their intercourse with the English; to urge them on secretly to resist the continued encroachments on their lands, but to keep the agency of France in the matter entirely behind the curtain. Arms would be sent, was the promise, but the conditions of peace and the present situation of the mother country forbade any supplies of men, or the doing of any thing on the part of the Governor General at Quebec that would excite suspicion.
Upon the receipt of this news, a council of the Indian Chiefs was called with much ceremony in the little chapel.
Father Rasles appeared in his most imposing sacerdotal costume and performed high mass, preparatory to the deliberations with all the pomp and ceremony within the reach of his small means. This was his invariable custom. It connected the rites of their new religion, in the minds of the superstitious chiefs, with their military expeditions.
Father Rasles took no active part in their deliberations - never speaking unless appealed to - thus leading the chiefs to feel their independence and to be satisfied that he was not endeavoring to obtain any political supremacy over them. Yet it was a fact, that his cunning and cautious advice given when appealed to, usually governed the council.
After the religious ceremonies were through and the chant of the young choir had died on the ear, the Chiefs, according to custom sat for awhile in silence, smoking thoughtfully. At length Bamazeen arose. He was the leader in every warlike adventure, and the usual advocate of extreme measures. But he was a man of few words, and but little addicted to fanciful illustrations.
"Warriors," said he, "the Yenghees of the Sea Coast claim the land of the Abenakis. They say that in the treaties of peace over the Great Waters, it was given them by our great Father of France. They have seized our hunting ground on the Penobscot and have called it their own. Shall we leave them to its possession?"
He sat down, while a murmur ran through the assembled braves like the "No" of modern mass meetings. Carabeset arose.
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"Does our Father of the Lady of the Wilderness," said he turning to Rasles, "know that the mighty Sachem of the French has agreed to such a lying treaty?"
"The Grand Monarch," said Father Sebastian, speaking in Indian, "has done no such thing. He and his neighbors of England have buried the hatchet. He has given up the land which the French call Acadia far off from here, but has not attempted to surrender the possession of the Abenakis for they are independent of him. He has done nothing that will prevent the Abenakis from driving the hated Yenghees from their lands. He cannot send men to help, for he has smoked the calu- met of peace, but he has sent rifles and powder as presents to his brave friends, the Abenakis."
So saying, he opened a closet near him and pointed to the French presents which the last messenger had brought, which had been hitherto studiously kept concealed. Another emphatic "hugh" arose from the listening chiefs, and many an eye sparkled as it glanced upon the carbines piled up in the closet.
Carabeset had remained standing during this exhibition as if still " claiming the floor" as Congressmen would say. He waited patiently until every murmur of admiration had died away, when he again commenced his harangue in a low and serious tone:
"The Yenghees have encroached on our territories, the Sachem of the Yenghees says they are his own, and gives them away to whom he pleases. Yes, Abenakis, the hunting grounds over which your fathers chased the deer - the broad streams where they paddled their canoes and snared their fish - the meadow lands, where they cultivated the corn, even the very mountains where their children gathered the blue berries - are all claimed as his own by a King, who never saw this land, who never roved through these forests, or sailed on these broad rivers. What right has he to them? He has not even the claim of a conqueror. Have we not arms in our hands and sinews to wield them? Conquerors of whom?" he exclaimed, raising his voice, "Conquerors of the Abenakis? Do we wear his chains? Has he danced around the burning piles of our warriors? Has he nailed up our scalps to the door of his wigwam? Have our squaws gone in a lengthened train to his huts to acknowledge his power? Are the Abenakis conquered?"
Another deep murmur, like the undertone of the rolling sea, rocked the whole assembly.
" If we remain at home like women and children, we shall be con- quered. We have but to wait and the Sachem of the Yenghees will call this stream and this forest and these tents his own, and send his encroaching nation to seize them. Shall we wait for them here, or drive them at once from the huts they have erected on the Penobscot?
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Brethren! Our fathers always struck the first blow themselves. We have not degenerated. Brethren! I have said."
"Our brother speaks right," said Bamazeen, "let us act."
So saying, he strode to the closet and brought the carbines in his arms into the circle. They were soon distributed to the oldest braves, who gave up their former pieces to the young men, and, as each held his weapon in his hand, decided upon an immediate fray.
Rasles never interfered. He sat quietly waiting for the savage decision to be made.
"Whatever you do," he said to one of the chiefs who demanded his opinion, "should be done quickly. It is noon now. Make your meal rapidly, and meet me here in the chapel for a blessing on your expedition."
Rasles had so far changed the customs of the Indians as to substi- tute a solemn celebration of High Mass whenever a military expedi- tion was commenced, instead of the usual excitement of the War Dance. His own moderation and Jesuitical cunning had already had its influence on their character. There was no excitement now at the commencement of their expeditions but the fervor of religious zeal.
The chapel services were soon commenced. Father Sebastian made them as solemn and as deliberate as possible. This solemn delibera- tion was in accordance with the Indian character, who, though prompt in action, was slow in preparation. A picture of Our Lady of the Wilderness, brought out only on extraordinary occasions, was produced. The young Indian choir sang a Latin invocation to Heaven for victory, first used by the sweet Psalmist of Israel, when his own troops went out to fight Jehovah's enemies. Little Grace, dressed in pure white, strewed flowers through the aisle where the Red Men passed to make their last vows to the Virgin, wondering much at the stern, savage awe that pervaded the features of the men, little realizing that the ceremony was to prepare them for an invasion of her own nation.
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