CHAPTER 20
1645, 1646.
THE PEACE BROKEN.
UNCERTAINTIES. THE MISSION OF JOGUES. HE REACHES THE MOHAWKS.  HIS RECEPTION. HIS RETURN. HIS SECOND MISSION. WARNINGS OF DANGER.  RAGE OF THE MOHAWKS. MURDER OF JOGUES.
There is little doubt that the Iroquois negotiators acted, for the moment, in sincerity.  Guillaume Couture, who returned with them and spent the winter in their towns, saw sufficient proof that they sincerely desired peace.  And yet the treaty had a double defect.  First, the wayward, capricious, and ungoverned nature of the Indian parties to it, on both sides, made a speedy rupture more than likely.  Secondly, in spite of their own assertion to the contrary, the Iroquois envoys represented, not the confederacy of the five nations, but only one of these nations, the Mohawks: for each of the members of this singular league could, and often did, make peace and war independently of the rest.

It was the Mohawks who had made war on the French and their Indian allies on the lower Saint  Lawrence.  They claimed, as against the other Iroquois, a certain right of domain to all this region; and though the warriors of the four upper nations had sometimes poached on the Mohawk preserve, by murdering both French and Indians at Montreal, they employed their energies for the most part in attacks on the Hurons, the Upper Algonquins, and other tribes of the interior.  These attacks still continued, unaffected by the peace with the Mohawks.  Imperfect, however, as the treaty was, it was invaluable, could it but be kept inviolate; and to this end Montmagny, the Jesuits, and all the colony, anxiously turned their thoughts.

It was to hold the Mohawks to their faith that Couture had bravely gone back to winter among them; but an agent of more acknowledged weight was needed, and Father Isaac Jogues was chosen.  No white man, Couture excepted, knew their language and their character so well.  His errand was half political, half religious; for not only was he to be the bearer of gifts, wampum-belts, and messages from the Governor, but he was also to found a new mission, christened in advance with a prophetic name, the Mission of the Martyrs.

For two years past, Jogues had been at Montreal; and it was here that he received the order of his Superior to proceed to the Mohawk towns.  At first, nature asserted itself, and he recoiled involuntarily at the thought of the horrors of which his scarred body and his mutilated hands were a living memento.  It was a transient weakness; and he prepared to depart with more than willingness, giving thanks to Heaven that he had been found worthy to suffer and to die for the saving of souls and the greater glory of God.

He felt a presentiment that his death was near, and wrote to a friend, "I shall go, and shall not return."  An Algonquin convert gave him sage advice.  "Say nothing about the Faith at first, for there is nothing so repulsive, in the beginning, as our doctrine, which seems to destroy everything that men hold dear; and as your long cassock preaches, as well as your lips, you had better put on a short coat." Jogues, therefore, exchanged the uniform of Loyola for a civilian's doublet and hose; "for," observes his Superior, "one should be all things to all men, that he may gain them all to Jesus Christ."  It would be well, if the application of the maxim had always been as harmless.

Jogues left Three Rivers about the middle of May, with the Sieur Bourdon, engineer to the Governor, two Algonquins with gifts to confirm the peace, and four Mohawks as guides and escort.  He passed the Richelieu and Lake Champlain, well-remembered scenes of former miseries, and reached the foot of Lake George on the eve of Corpus Christi.  Thence he called the lake Lac Saint  Sacrement; and this name it preserved, until, a century after, an ambitious Irishman, in compliment to the sovereign from whom he sought advancement, gave it the name it bears.

From Lake George they crossed on foot to the Hudson, where, being greatly fatigued by their heavy loads of gifts, they borrowed canoes at an Iroquois fishing station, and descended to Fort Orange.  Here Jogues met the Dutch friends to whom he owed his life, and who now kindly welcomed and entertained him.  After a few days he left them, and ascended the River Mohawk to the first Mohawk town.  Crowds gathered from the neighboring towns to gaze on the man whom they had known as a scorned and abused slave, and who now appeared among them as the ambassador of a power which hitherto, indeed, they had despised, but which in their present mood they were willing to propitiate.

There was a council in one of the lodges; and while his crowded auditory smoked their pipes, Jogues stood in the midst, and harangued them.  He offered in due form the gifts of the Governor, with the wampum belts and their messages of peace, while at every pause his words were echoed by a unanimous grunt of applause from the attentive concourse.  Peace speeches were made in return; and all was harmony.  When, however, the Algonquin deputies stood before the council, they and their gifts were coldly received.  The old hate, maintained by traditions of mutual atrocity, burned fiercely under a thin semblance of peace; and though no outbreak took place, the prospect of the future was very ominous.

The business of the embassy was scarcely finished, when the Mohawks counselled Jogues and his companions to go home with all despatch, saying, that, if they waited longer, they might meet on the way warriors of the four upper nations, who would inevitably kill the two Algonquin deputies, if not the French also.  Jogues, therefore, set out on his return; but not until, despite the advice of the Indian convert, he had made the round of the houses, confessed and instructed a few Christian prisoners still remaining here, and baptized several dying Mohawks.  Then he and his party crossed through the forest to the southern extremity of Lake George, made bark canoes, and descended to Fort Richelieu, where they arrived on the twenty seventh of June

His political errand was accomplished.  Now, should he return to the Mohawks, or should the Mission of the Martyrs be for a time abandoned? Lalemant, who had succeeded Vimont as Superior of the missions, held a council at Quebec with three other Jesuits, of whom Jogues was one, and it was determined, that, unless some new contingency should arise, he should remain for the winter at Montreal.  This was in July.  Soon after, the plan was changed, for reasons which do not appear, and Jogues received orders to repair to his dangerous post.  He set out on the twenty-fourth of August, accompanied by a young Frenchman named Lalande, and three or four Hurons.  On the way they met Indians who warned them of a change of feeling in the Mohawk towns, and the Hurons, alarmed, refused to go farther.  Jogues, naturally perhaps the most timid man of the party, had no thought of drawing back, and pursued his journey with his young companion, who, like other donnés of the missions; was scarcely behind the Jesuits themselves in devoted enthusiasm.

The reported change of feeling had indeed taken place; and the occasion of it was characteristic.  On his previous visit to the Mohawks, Jogues, meaning to return, had left in their charge a small chest or box.  From the first they were distrustful, suspecting that it contained some secret mischief.  He therefore opened it, and showed them the contents, which were a few personal necessaries; and having thus, as he thought, reassured them, locked the box, and left it in their keeping.  The Huron prisoners in the town attempted to make favor with their Iroquois enemies by abusing their French friends, declaring them to be sorcerers, who had bewitched, by their charms and mummeries, the whole Huron nation, and caused drought, famine, pestilence, and a host of insupportable miseries.  Thereupon, the suspicions of the Mohawks against the box revived with double force, and they were convinced that famine, the pest, or some malignant spirit was shut up in it, waiting the moment to issue forth and destroy them.  There was sickness in the town, and caterpillars were eating their corn: this was ascribed to the sorceries of the Jesuit.  Still they were divided in opinion.  Some stood firm for the French; others were furious against them.  Among the Mohawks, three clans or families were predominant, if indeed they did not compose the entire nation, the clans of the Bear, the Tortoise, and the Wolf.  Though, by the nature of their constitution, it was scarcely possible that these clans should come to blows, so intimately were they bound together by ties of blood, yet they were often divided on points of interest or policy; and on this occasion the Bear raged against the French, and howled for war, while the Tortoise and the Wolf still clung to the treaty.  Among savages, with no government except the intermittent one of councils, the party of action and violence must always prevail.  The Bear chiefs sang their war-songs, and, followed by the young men of their own clan, and by such others as they had infected with their frenzy, set forth, in two bands, on the war-path.

The warriors of one of these bands were making their way through the forests between the Mohawk and Lake George, when they met Jogues and Lalande.  They seized them, stripped them, and led them in triumph to their town.  Here a savage crowd surrounded them, beating them with sticks and with their fists.  One of them cut thin strips of flesh from the back and arms of Jogues, saying, as he did so, "Let us see if this white flesh is the flesh of an oki." "I am a man like yourselves," replied Jogues; "but I do not fear death or torture.  I do not know why you would kill me.  I come here to confirm the peace and show you the way to heaven, and you treat me like a dog."  "You shall die to-morrow," cried the rabble.  "Take courage, we shall not burn you.  We shall strike you both with a hatchet, and place your heads on the palisade, that your brothers may see you when we take them prisoners."  The clans of the Wolf and the Tortoise still raised their voices in behalf of the captive Frenchmen; but the fury of the minority swept all before it.

In the evening, it was the eighteenth of October, Jogues, smarting with his wounds and bruises, was sitting in one of the lodges, when an Indian entered, and asked him to a feast.  To refuse would have been an offence.  He arose and followed the savage, who led him to the lodge of the Bear chief.  Jogues bent his head to enter, when another Indian, standing concealed within, at the side of the doorway, struck at him with a hatchet.  An Iroquois, called by the French Le Berger,  who seems to have followed in order to defend him, bravely held out his arm to ward off the blow; but the hatchet cut through it, and sank into the missionary's brain.  He fell at the feet of his murderer, who at once finished the work by hacking off his head.  Lalande was left in suspense all night, and in the morning was killed in a similar manner.  The bodies of the two Frenchmen were then thrown into the Mohawk, and their heads displayed on the points of the palisade which inclosed the town.  

Thus died Isaac Jogues, one of the purest examples of Roman Catholic virtue which this Western continent has seen.  The priests, his associates, praise his humility, and tell us that it reached the point of self-contempt, a crowning virtue in their eyes; that he regarded himself as nothing, and lived solely to do the will of God as uttered by the lips of his Superiors.  They add, that, when left to the guidance of his own judgment, his self-distrust made him very slow of decision, but that, when acting under orders, he knew neither hesitation nor fear.  With all his gentleness, he had a certain warmth or vivacity of temperament; and we have seen how, during his first captivity, while humbly submitting to every caprice of his tyrants and appearing to rejoice in abasement, a derisive word against his faith would change the lamb into the lion, and the lips that seemed so tame would speak in sharp, bold tones of menace and reproof.