It is one of those moments when you realize you are part of something special

That became a popular narrative. Novels, plays, folk songs, academic articles and movies followed that cast Richard as an ethnic martyr of sorts, a Saint Sebastian riddled with all the arrows of prejudice that Anglos had slung the way of the Québécois over the years, and the mob became the avenging embodiment of French-Canadian frustration striking out against the imperialists. Taken to the extreme, that line of thinking credits the Richard Riot, as it has become known, for initiating Quebec’s la Révolution tranquille (the Quiet Revolution), that period in the ‘60s of liberation for French-Canadians. The protests did indeed

very goal their guy scored was a victory for the little guy, a rebellion against a kind of colonial imperialism, a reordering of the social order that set things right … at least for a night.

“Hockey in Canada was bigger than the church, and Rocket Richard was bigger than the Pope,” reflected Red Storey later.

For Richard was one of theirs. He was Ree-char-NOT Rih-shard — born and raised, a Catholic French-Canadian in a Catholic French-Canadian city in the heart of a Catholic French-Canadian province. His amazing and meaningful goals for the home team playing the national obsession elevated him to an incomparable status.

The Detroit defenseman threw himself at Richard during a game in the 1945-46 season as Richard brought the puck into the Red Wings’ zone. Richard lowered his head and neck to buttress himself for the collision then straightened, with Seibert, draped atop his back. Richard carried the 200-pound defenseman to the net, deked the goaltender with one hand on his stick and flipped the puck into the far corner of the net.

By 1955, Richard had scored more goals, 422, than anyone in the history of the NHL — 98 more than the next guy on the list. He had become the only player to score 50 goals in the 50-game season. He held the record for most goals in a playoff game, with five. Not only did he score often, he scored meaningful goals, when his team needed them the most, the game-winners in a record eight playoff games and more than 60 regular-season games.

Boston police come to the locker room. They want to arrest Richard for assault, to throw him in jail for the night. Montreal coach Dick Irvin blocks the entry to the Canadiens’ dressing room.

Once the officials finally subdue Richard and Laycoe, the referee, Frank Udvari, sends Laycoe to the penalty box with a five-minute major for drawing blood. When Laycoe throws a bloody towel at him, he adds 10 minutes. The punishment is worse for Richard. Udvari kicks him out of the game. The Canadiens trainer guides him off the ice. Thompson skates behind them, to make sure he actually leaves and does not turn back to fight some more. Richard presses a towel to the gash on his scalp, which will take five stiches to close. He clutches a stick in his right hand.

For five minutes, the tempest rages.

Laycoe lunges at Richard. His stick blade clips the Rocket above the left ear and opens a gash. The blood stains his scalp.

Montreal’s homegrown French-Canadian star from the city’s blue-collar Nouveau-Bordeaux neighborhood,

"Sport is part of culture and a good way to learn about another country… To discover why people are so passionate about it, it's like, 'Tell me what your sport is and I'll tell you who you are,' " he said.

"Charity has been the function of the church. Now it's the team who is taking charge of the social life, visiting children in hospitals, inviting children to see a game or giving money to charity… Does that mean they have kind of a religious role?" he asked.

"You know, you have to suffer if you want to win. Jesus had to die and resurrect. That's the kind of thing we expect from our players. You must be ready to suffer in order to win or earn us some victory. You must risk everything and sweat and fight or be knocked out," he said.

"[Bauer] has really touched something deep in Quebec society, something that is so obvious nobody has taken the time to mention it," he said. "It really strikes something, and it's really fun too. Serious, but with some humour."

"We really want to see what everyone wants to say.… When you have a lot of people passionate about hockey, and not about religion, it's interesting to see people's reactions to the question," she said. "If they can make connections between religion and sport, it helps get people involved; there will be a lot of diversity."

"I wanted to invite Don Cherry, too.

covering his first NHL game thatnight

The Richard Riot is generally considered the firstexplosion of French-Canadian nationalism, the beginning of asocial and political dynamic that shapes Canada to

he tear gascame 30 seconds later.

During the first-period intermission a fan marched up thesteps and extended his hand for what Campbell assumed would be ahandshake. Campbell stuck out his hand. He got a slap in theface.

Mayor Jean Drapeau telephoned Campbell at the NHL officein town and begged him not to attend the game that night. Theimperious Campbell not only ignored the mayor's advice but alsomade a diva's entrance at the Forum, taking his customary aisleseat in a corner of the arena a few minutes into the firstperiod.

English-speaking boss thwarting the aspirations of theFrench-speaking populist hero

In a match the previous Sunday, Richard had twice viciouslyslashed his nemesis, Hal Laycoe of the Boston Bruins, and thenassaulted a linesman.

The Rocket's triumphswere the people's triumphs

French-speaking Quebecois listening to the game on the radio

No athlete has embodied the soul of a city and the spirit of itspeople as Richard did in the 1940s and '50s in Montreal, my homefor the past 21 years.

Smoke from a tear-gas canister haddriven thousands of hockey fans into the streets, sparking afour-hour rampage that yielded the requisite fires, shatteredwindows, looted stores, overturned cars and 137 arrests.

Thursday, March 17, 1955,

And the Rocket, who always refused to align himself with a political party, would lead his teammates to five straight Stanley Cup victories until retiring in the spring of 1960 with 544 regular-season goals to his credit.

— or perhaps just the end of a time when hockey was more important than politics, as the latter began to take hold among French Canadian youth.

Since then, larger thinkers on the Quebec scene have argued whether this was the beginning of Quebec's Quiet Revolution

Garbage and various fruit rained down on the NHL boss, one man raced up and smeared a tomato on Campbell, and less than a minute later a homemade tear gas bomb went off.

Montreal went nuts, both French and English,

Campbell was already infuriated with the Montreal star, who had a column (Le Tour de Chapeau) ghost written for a French weekly in Montreal that regularly attacked the NHL boss (he was forced to drop it by the league), and No. 9 had already previously walloped a referee.

Sticks were high, fists flew, blood often smeared the ice, and the owners thought this was all manly and a great way to sell tickets.

What we can know today are the basic facts.

Hockey's greatest player at that time was Richard, who in 1945 became the first to score 50 goals in a season (in 50 games, no less)

The power of the English seigneurs in Montreal, who many angry French believed to be modern economic descendants of New France's landowners that treated their farmers as serfs before the system was abolished in 1854.

And Maria answered him:—"Yes ... If you wish I will marry you as you asked me to ... In the spring—the spring after this spring now—when the men come back from the woods for the sowing."

Maria Chapdelaine awaked from her dream to the thought:—"So I shall stay—shall. stay here after all!"

Then it was that a third voice, mightier than the others, lifted itself up in the silence: the voice of Quebec—now the song of a woman, now the exhortation of a priest. It came to her with the sound of a church bell, with the majesty of an organ's tones, like a plaintive love-song, like the long high call of woodsmen in the forest. For verily there was in it all that makes the soul of the Province: the loved solemnities of the ancestral faith; the lilt of that old speech guarded with jealous care; the grandeur and the barbaric strength of this new land where an ancient race has again found its youth.

Again Maria asked herself:—"Why stay here, to toil and suffer thus? Why? ..." And when she found no answer, it befell at length that out of the silence and the night voices arose.

Maria faltered:—"I know, father; I know it well;" and she dried her eyes for her heart was melting into tears.

"There is nothing I can do for her. Something has gone wrong within, about which I know nothing; were there broken bones I could have healed them. I should only have had to feel them with my hands, and then the good God would have told me what to do and I should have cured her. But in this sickness of hers I have no skill. I might indeed put a blister on her back, and perhaps that would draw away-the blood and relieve her for a time. Or I could give her a draught made from beaver kidneys; it is useful when the kidneys are affected, as is well known. But I think that neither the blister nor the draught would work a cure."

Her parents would like her to marry Eutrope Gagnon—that she felt—because she would live near them, and again because this life upon the land was the only one they knew, and they naturally thought it better than any other. Eutrope was a fine fellow, hard-working and of kindly disposition, and he loved her; but Lorenzo Surprenant also loved her; he, likewise, was steady and a good worker; he was a Canadian at heart, not less than those amongst whom she lived; he went to church ... And he offered as his splendid gift a world dazzling to the eye, all the wonders of the city. He would rescue her from this oppression of frozen earth and gloomy forest.

Never a word did she utter in reply. Once more a young man was telling his love, was placing in her hands all he had to give; and once more she could but hearken in mute embarrassment, only saved from awkwardness by her immobility and silence. Town-bred girls had thought her stupid, when she was but honest and truthful; very close to nature which takes no account of words.

All of her life had Maria known this cold, this snow, the land's death-like sleep, these austere and frowning woods; now was she coming to view them with fear and hate. A paradise surely must it be, this country to the south where March is no longer winter and in April the leaves are green! At midwinter one takes to the road without snowshoes, unclad in furs, beyond sight of the cruel forest. And the cities ... the pavements ...

"The first day I saw you, Maria, the very first day ... that is only the truth! For a long time I had not been back in this country, and I was thinking what a miserable place it was to live in, that the men were a lot of simpletons who had never seen anything and the girls not nearly so quick and clever as they are in the States ... And then, the moment I set eyes on you, there was I saying to myself that I was the simpleton, for neither at Lowell nor Boston had I ever met a girl like yourself. When I returned I used to be thinking a dozen times a day that some wretched farmer would make love to you and carry you off, and every time my heart sank. It was on your account that I came back, Maria, came up here from near Boston, three days' journey! The business I had, I could have done it all by letter; it was you I wished to see, to tell you what was in my heart to say and to hear the answer you would give me." Wherever the snow was clear for a few yards, free of dead trees and stumps, and he could lift his eyes without fear of stumbling, they were fixed upon Maria; between the woollen cap and the long woollen jersey curving to her vigorous form he saw the outline of her face, downward turned, expressing only gentleness and patience. Every glance gave fresh reason for his love but brought him no hint of a response.

"I know how it is; I was brought up on a farm. And you, most of you farmers, know how it is too. All the morning you have worked hard, and go to your house for dinner and a little rest. Then, before you are well seated at table, a child is yelling:—'The cows are over the fence;' or 'The sheep are in the crop,' and everyone jumps up and runs, thinking of the oats or the barley it has been such a trouble to raise, that these miserable fools are ruining. The men dash about brandishing sticks till they are out of breath; the women stand screaming in the farm-yard. And when you have managed to drive the cows or the sheep into their paddock and put up the rails, you get back to the house nicely 'rested' to find the pea-soup cold and full of flies, the pork under the table gnawed by dogs and cats, and you eat what you can lay your hands on, watching for the next trick the wretched animals are getting ready to play on you."

In their narrow Parisian lodging it had seemed so wonderful a thing to them, the notion that in Canada they would spend their days out of doors, breathing the taintless air of a new country, close beside the mighty forest. The black-flies they had not foreseen, nor comprehended the depth of the winter's cold; the countless ill turns of a land that has no pity were undivined.

Maria was thinking of the priest's words: "If there was affection between you it is very proper that you should know regret. But you were not pledged to one another, because neither you nor he had spoken to your parents; therefore it is not befitting or right that you should sorrow thus, nor feel so deep a grief for a young man who, after all is said, was nothing to you..."

"O Christ Jesus, who didst stretch forth Thine arm to those in need, why didst Thou not disperse the snows with those pale hands of Thine? Holy Virgin, why didst Thou not sustain him by Thy power when, for the last time, his feet were stumbling? In all the legions of heaven why was there found no angel to show him the way?"

A hand had fastened upon her throat, stifling her, as the narrative unfolded and the end loomed inevitable; and now this hand found its way into her breast and was crushing her heart.

Eutrope Gagnon did not linger. The Chapdelaines, left to themselves, were long without speech. At last the father said in a halting voice:—"François Paradis was almost alone in the world; now, as we all had an affection for him, we perhaps might have a mass or two said. What do you think, Laura?"

"He went astray ... The storm caught him in the burnt country and he halted for a day. So much we know, for the Indians found a shelter of fir branches he had made for himself, and they saw his tracks. He set out again because his provisions were low and he was in haste to reach the end of his journey, as I suppose; but the weather did not mend, snow was falling, the nor'west wind never eased, and it is likely he caught no glimpse of the sun to guide him, for the Indians said that his tracks turned off from the river Croche which he had been following and wandered away, straight to the north."

That he return in the spring ... Dreaming of his return, of François, the handsome sunburnt face turned to hers, Maria forgets all else, and looks long with unseeing eyes at the snow-covered ground which the moonlight has turned into a glittering fabric of ivory and mother-of-pearl-at the black pattern of the fences outlined upon it, and the menacing ranks of the dark forest.

Through the little window they looked on the gray sky, and found little to cheer them. To go to midnight mass is the natural and strong desire of every French-Canadian peasant, even of those living farthest from the settlements. What do they not face to accomplish it! Arctic cold, the woods at night, obliterated roads, great distances do but add to the impressiveness and the mystery. This anniversary of the birth of Jesus is more to them than a mere fixture in the calendar with rites appropriate; it signifies the renewed promise of salvation, an occasion of deep rejoicing, and those gathered in the wooden church are imbued with sincerest fervour, are pervaded with a deep sense of the supernatural. This year, more than ever, Maria yearned to attend the-mass after many weeks of remoteness from houses and from churches; the favours she would fain demand seemed more likely to be granted were she able to prefer them before the altar, aided in heavenward flight by the wings of music.

"It must be a bad day in the woods!" thinks Maria to herself; and then perceives that she has spoken aloud. "In the woods they are better off than we are here," answers her father. "Up there where the trees stand close together one does not feel the wind. You can be sure that Esdras and Da'Be are all right." "Yes?" But it was not of Esdras and Da'Be that she had just been thinking.

Most surely it is the first question he will put to her; but she is able to carry the dream no further for the sudden pain stabbing her heart. Ah! dear God! how long will she have been lonely for him before that moment comes!

but since the coming of François Paradis the long weekly vigil was very sweet to her, for she could think of him and of herself with nothing to distract her dear imaginings. Simple they were, these thoughts of hers, and never did they travel far afield. In the springtime he will come back; this return of his, the joy of seeing him again, the words he will say when they find themselves once more alone, the first touch of hands and lips. Not easy was it for Maria to make a picture for herself of how these things were to come about.

their usual tasks: housework, cooking, washing and mending, the milking of three cows and the care of the hens, and once a week the baking which often lasted well into the night.

The women of the Chapdelaine household had no part in the work of the fields. The father and his three tall sons, all strong and skilled in farm labour,

Again he hesitated, and the question he was about to put took another form upon his lips. "You will be here still...next spring?" "Yes." And after the simple question and simpler answer they fell silent and so long remained, wordless and grave, for they had exchanged their vows.

François Paradis stole a glance at Maria, then turned his eyes away and tightly clasped his hands. Ah, but she was good to look upon! Thus to sit beside her, to catch these shy glimpses of the strong bosom, the sweet face so modest and so patient, the utter simplicity of attitude and of her rare gestures; a great hunger for her awoke in him,

"There is a fine clump over here," said a voice. Maria's heart beat faster as she arose and went toward François Paradis who was kneeling behind the alders. Side by side they picked industriously for a time, then plunged farther into the woods, stepping over fallen trees, looking about them for the deep blue masses of the ripe berries.

When a few moments later François mounted to the loft with the boys, Maria's heart was filled with happiness. This seemed to bring him a little nearer, to draw him within the family circle.

especially those families with plenty of daughters;

but under the constant sun these slowly turned to pale blue, to royal blue, to deepest purple, and when July brought the feast of Ste. Anne the bushes laden with fruit were broad patches of violet amid the rosy masses now beginning to fade.

Chapdelaine, his three sons and man, proceeded then to "make land." The forest still pressed hard upon the buildings they had put up a few years earlier: the little square house, the barn of planks that gaped apart, the stable built of blackened logs and chinked with rags and earth. Between the scanty fields of their clearing and the darkly encircling woods lay a broad stretch which the ax had but half-heartedly attacked. A few living trees had been cut for timber, and the dead ones, sawn and split, fed the great stove for a whole winter; but the place was a rough tangle of stumps and interlacing roots, of fallen trees too far rotted to burn, of others dead but still erect amid the alder scrub.

Borrowings from other languages have added to the uncertainties of orthography and gender.

Three years! Maria thought to herself that she had only seen François Paradis twice since she was a child, and she felt ashamed at the beating of her heart.

it was the Indians who found him by chance next day, crushed and half-frozen though the weather was mild. He was in their game preserve, and they might very well have pretended not to see him and have left him to die there; but they put him on their toboggan, brought him to their camp, and looked after him. You knew my father: a rough man who often took a glass, but just in his dealings, and with a good name for doing that sort of thing himself. So when he parted with these Indians he told them to stop and see him in the spring when they would be coming down to Pointe Bleue with their furs-François Paradis of Mistassini,' said he to them, will not forget what you have done ... François Paradis.' And when they came in spring while running the river he looked after them well and every one carried away a new ax, a fine woollen blanket and tobacco for six months. Always after that they used to pay us a visit in the spring, and father had the pick of their best skins for less than the companies' buyers had to pay. When he died they treated me in the same way be cause I was his son and bore the same name, François Paradis. With more capital I could have made a good bit of money in this trade-a good bit of money."

for the sight of her before him took strange hold upon his heart.

A dozen times in the course of the day Maria and her mother opened the window to feel the softness of the air

for she had brought home to the fireside an undefined feeling that a page of her life was turned, in which he would have no share.

It was the orthodox beginning to one of those talks among country folk which are like an interminable song, full of repetitions, each speaker agreeing with the words last uttered and adding more to the same effect

"You cannot shoot devils with a gun," objected his mother. "But when you feel the temptation coming, seize your rosar

"It was the Demon of gluttony who tempted me."

is a little water on the ice," said he, "and the snow has melted; but we ought to be able to cross all the same. Get up, Charles Eugene." The horse lowered his head and sniffed at the white expanse in front of him, then adventured upon it without more ado. The ruts of the winter road were gone, the little firs which had marked it at intervals were nearly all fallen and lying in the half-thawed snow; as they passed the island the ice cracked twice without breaking.

buy furs from the Indians

trapping or bartering with the Indians of Lake Mistassini and the Riviere aux Foins.

till French to their finger-tips in the midst of the vast lonely forest and the snow,

He continued:—"Two men are up here with money to buy furs.

These are the opinions that we have; time will shed more light on them. It is difficult for the Faith to remain alive in these countries, unless we have a place which may be, as it were, the center of all our Missions; whence we can send the Preachers of the Gospel into the Nations who are spread abroad in all these regions; and where we can assemble from time to time, in order to confer there on the means which God will supply to us for procuring his glory, and on the light that he shall give us for that purpose. This house of Sainte Marie, where we have been until now, was at the most advantageous location that we could have chosen for this purpose, wherever we [91] might have been. But, affairs being in the condition in which we see them now, it would be but rashness in us to dwell in a forsaken place, whence the Hurons had retired, and where the Algonquins were unable to have further trade; not one would come to see us there, unless the Enemies, who would discharge upon us alone the whole weight of their hostility. Consequently, we are resolved to follow our flock, and to flee with the fleeing, since we do not live here for ourselves, but for the salvation of souls, and for the conversion of these Peoples.

His chastity was proof; and in that matter his eyes [page 191] were so faithful to his heart, that they had no sight for the objects which might have soiled purity. His body was not rebellious to the spirit; and in the midst of impurity itself,—which reigns, it seems, in this country,—he lived in an innocence as great as if he had sojourned in the midst of a desert inaccessible to that sin. A woman presented herself one day to him, in a place somewhat isolated, uttering to him unseemly language, and breathing a fire which could come only from a firebrand of hell. The Father, seeing himself thus attacked, made upon himself the sign of the cross, without answering any word; and this spectre, disguised beneath a woman's dress, disappeared at the same moment.

He adapted his own nature and temperament to the customs among these peoples, with so much ability,—becoming all things to all men, in order to win them to Jesus Christ,—that he had ravished their hearts, and was singularly loved there,

Their tortures were not of the same duration. Father Jean de Brebeuf was at the height of his torments at about three o'clock on the same day of the capture, the 16th day of March, and rendered up his soul about four o ' clock in the evening. Father Gabriel Lallement endured longer, from six o'clock in the evening until about nine o'clock the next morning, the seventeenth of March. Before their death, both their hearts were torn out, by means of an opening above the breast; and those Barbarians inhumanly feasted thereon, drinking their blood quite warm, which they drew from [51] its source with sacrilegious hands. While still quite full of life, pieces of flesh were removed from their thighs, from the calves of the legs, and from their arms,—which those executioners placed on coals to roast, and ate in their sight. They had slashed their bodies in various parts; and, in order to increase the feeling of pain, they had thrust into these wounds red-hot hatchets. Father Jean de Brebeuf had had the skin which covered his skull torn away; they had cut off his feet and torn the flesh from his thighs, even to the bone, and had split, with the blow of a hatchet, one of his jaws in two. Father Gabriel Lallement had received a hatchet- blow on the left ear, which they had driven into his brain, which appeared exposed; we saw no part of his body, from the feet even to the head, which had [page 147] not been broiled, and in which he had not been burned alive,—even the eyes, into which those impious ones had thrust burning coals. They had broiled their tongues, repeatedly putting into their mouths flaming brands, and burning pieces of bark,—[52] not willing that they should invoke, in dying, him for whom they were suffering, and who could never die in their hearts. I have learned all this from persons worthy of credence, who have seen it, and reported it to me personally, and who were then captives with them,—but whoa having been reserved to be put to death at another time, found means to escape.

Some Huron Infidels—former captives of the Iroquois, naturalized among them, and former enemies of the Faith

On the evening of the same day, they sent scouts to reconnoiter the condition of our house at Sainte Marie; their report having been made in the Council of war, the decision was adopted to come and attack us the next morning,—promising themselves a victory which would be more glorious to them than all the successes of their arms in the past. We were in a good state of defense, and saw not one of our Frenchmen who was not resolved to sell his life very dear, and to die in a cause which—being for the interests of the Faith, and the maintenance of Christianity in these countries—was more the cause of God than ours; moreover, our greatest confidence as in him.

Thus this village was taken, almost without striking a blow, there having been only ten Iroquois [35] killed. Part of the Hurons—men, women, and children—were massacred then and there; the others were made captives, and reserved for cruelties more terrible than death.

A little child of six years was extremely [26] sick in the Mission of saint Michel. His mother was unable to contain her tears, seeing the excess of his pain, and the approach of death to this her only son. " My mother," said to her this child, " why do you weep your tears will not give me back my health; but rather let us pray to God together, so that I may [page 111] be very happy in Heaven." After some prayers, his mother said to him, " My son, I must carry thee to Sainte Marie, so that the French may restore thee thy health." " Alas! my mother," said to her thief little innocent, " I have a fire burning in my head could they indeed quench it? I no longer think o life,—have no desire of it for me; but I will wart you of my death, and, when it is near, I will pray you to carry me to Sainte Marie, for I wish to die there, and to be buried there with the excellent Christians." In fact, some days later, this child warned his mother that his death was near, and that it was time to carry him to us. It is the custom in these countries, when any one is near death, to make a solemn feast to which are invited all the friends and the most considerable persons,—about a hundred. The mother would not [27] fail in this obligation,—desiring also to apprise all the people of the sentiments which her son had toward the Faith. This child, having seen the preparations for the feasts said to her: " What! my mother, would you have me sin so nigh to my death? I renounce all these superstitions of the country; I wish to die a good Christian." This child believed that that custom was among the number of those forbidden; and although his mother, an excellent Christian, assured him that there was no evil in that, he would never believe her, and could not resolve to comply with her wish, until the Father who has charge of that Mission had assured him that in that feast there was no sin. This little Angel was brought to us; and he died in our arms, praying even till death, and telling us that he was going straight to Heaven, and that he would pray to God for us; and he even asked his mother [page 113] for which of his relatives she wished him to pray chiefly, when he should be near God,—saying that no doubt he would be heard. He has been; for, shortly after his death, an uncle of his, one of those most rebellious against the Faith in these countries, and an aunt of his, asked us for instruction, and have become Christians. [28] A little girl of five years, at the Mission of saint Ignace, of Infidel parents, came every day to prayers, morning and evening. She had so constantly adhered to this duty, even against the wishes and the prohibitions of her parents, that we could not refuse her Holy Baptism,—seeing that the spirit of the Faith was abundantly compensating in her for the years that she might lack in order freely to dispose of herself in a matter wherein grace has more right than nature. Some time after, this child fell sick; the Infidel parents, having recourse to the superstitions of the country, sent to fetch the Magician,—or, to speak more correctly, an impostor who made profession of that trade of hell. This juggler does not fail to say, as is his wont, that a certain Demon had reduced their daughter to that state; and that, in order to expel him, it was necessary to present the patient with some embellishments and ornaments of clothing, of which the girls of that age are sufficiently desirous. The little sick girl, although she was very low, nevertheless had strength enough, and her faith gave her courage enough, to belie this impostor. " I am a Christian," she said to her parents; " the Devils have no longer [29] any power over me. I do not consent to the sin that you have just committed, in consulting the Demons; I do not wish their remedies. God alone will cure me; let [page 115] this Magician go away." The father and mothers and all those present, were much astonished at this rebuke,—so innocent, but yet so efficacious that they made that juggler withdraw, not wishing to grieve this sick child. But their astonishment increased when, on that very day, this child asked to be carried to the Church, asserting that she would get well,—as, in fact, it happened. This event has beers the means of converting the father and the mother, who have adopted their daughter's faith, and have received Baptism after her,—blessing God for having called them with so much gentleness. A young girl of fifteen years, among the most accomplished in the country, still a Catechumen, had been taken captive toward the end of last year's disinter; the enemies, however, had spared her life, and she remained with them in her captivity. She was the daughter and sister of two excellent Christians, who had no greater regret in the loss which they had incurred, than that this poor captive had not [30] yet been baptized. She, too, in her captivity did not forget her faith and often exclaimed to God: " My God,—and the God of my mother and my sister, who know you better than I, and who serve you so faithfully,—have pity on me! I have not been baptized; grant me this favor before I diets One day, when this poor afflicted one was in a field of Indian corn, which she was planting for those whose slave she was, she heard voices from Heaven which were singing a ravishing music in the air, from the chant of our Vespers, which she had formerly heard. She looks about her, supposing that some Frenchmen would accost her; but she sees nothing else. she kneels down, and prays to God [page 117] with all her heart; and she conceives a hope of seeing herself delivered from her captivity, though she sees neither means nor any probability of this Some days afterward, the same thing happens to her; she kneels again, with the same sentiments. Finally, having for the third time heard these same voices from Heaven,—and feeling her confidence increased, and her courage more animated,—she prays to God and hastens into a road which she [31] did not know, in order to return to these countries, without victuals, without provisions, without escort, but not without the guidance of him alone who had inspired her, and who gave her sufficient strength to arrive here, having traveled more than eighty leagues without any evil encounter. She asked us for Baptism from the day of her arrival; and, seeing the hand of God over her with so much love, we could not put her off. she had come straight to this house of Sainte Marie, although her shorter way would have carried her to the village to which her parents belonged. Since then, she has continually increased in fervor, and cannot grow weary with relating to every one the mercies of God. Often, in her captivity, she found herself solicited to what she could not grant without losing innocence; but never could they draw from her lips even a single word of agreement. She even carried this so far that, seeing her in this disposition, which was not pleasing to those shameless Barbarians, some had often spoken of beating her to death; and she was awaiting that death with patience, preferring to die rather than to commit any sin. This chapter would have no end, if I [32] should relate the effects of grace upon these poor Savages,—[page 119] which we admire every day, and for which we will bless God forever in Heaven, without weariness and without distaste. I cannot, however, omit a sufficiently prevailing sentiment of many good Christians, who—having lost all their property, their children, and what they had most precious in this world, and being even upon the point of undergoing a voluntary exile from their country which they were forsaking in order to avoid the cruelty of the Iroquois, their enemies—thanked God for it, and said to him: " My God, may you be blessed; I cannot regret these losses, since the Faith has taught me that the love which you have for the Christians is not in regard to the goods of this world, but for eternity. I bless you in my losses, with as good a heart as I have ever done; for you are my Father, and it is enough that I know that you love me, that I should be content with all the evils which can happen to me.

This child, having seen the preparations for the feasts said to her: " What! my mother, would you have me sin so nigh to my death? I renounce all these superstitions of the country; I wish to die a good Christian."

Of these eleven Missions, eight have been for the people of the Huron tongue, and the three others for the Missions of the Algonquin language. Everywhere, the progress of the Faith has surpassed our hopes,—most minds, even those formerly most fierce, becoming so docile, and so submissive to the preaching of the Gospel, that it was sufficiently apparent that [page 101] the Angels were laboring there much more than we.

He is the first of our Society who has died in this Mission of the Hurons. He was a native of Dieppe, being born of very honest and worthy parents,; He seemed to have been born only for the salvation of these Peoples, and had no stronger desire than to die for them.

This Relation which I address to your Reverence will show you the progress of the Faith with regard to these peoples,—more notable than ever it had been in the past, and, next, the desolation of these Countries during the time in which Christianity has appeared in them with greatest luster.

On the 16th and 17th, the Abnakiois arrived, to the number of 30; they are notified that they are not to come again, and that their goods will be plundered if they return. They brought letters from the English. There was one from Mademoyselle de Repentigny to her husband, dated 31st of July, 1648, with news of the death of Monsieur de chastelets.

The Ursulines made a remarkable mistake in that, during the tenebræ of the 3 Days, they had no Triangular candlestick or Taper lighted on the Altar,—save, on the 1st or 2nd Day, two white tapers.

"The Iroquois came, to the number of twelve hundred men; took our village, and seized Father Breboauf and his companion; and set fire to all the huts. They proceeded to vent their rage on those two Fathers; for they took them both and stripped them entirely naked, and fastened each to a post. They tied both of their hands together. They tore the nails from their fingers. They beat them with a shower of blows from cudgels, on the shoulders, the loins, the belly, the legs, and the face,—there being no part of their body which did not endure this torment. " The savages told us further, that, although Father de Brebceuf was overwhelmed under the weight of these blows, he did not cease continually to speak of God, and to encourage all the new Christians who were captives like himself to suffer well, that they might die well, in order to go in company with him to Paradise. While the good Father was us encouraging these good people, a wretched Iron renegade,—who had remained a captive with he Iroquois, and whom Father de Brebœuf had formerly instructed and baptized,—hearing him speak Paradise and Holy Baptism, was irritated, and said [page 27] to him, " Echon," that is Father de Brebœuf's name in Huron, " thou sayest that Baptism and the sufferings of this life lead straight to Paradise; thou wilt go soon, for I am going to baptize thee, and to make thee suffer well, in order to go the sooner to thy Paradise." The barbarian, having said that, took a kettle full of boiling water, which he poured over his body three different times, in derision of Holy baptism. And, each time that he baptized him in this manner, the barbarian said to him, with bitter sarcasm, " Go to Heaven, for thou art well baptized." After that, they made him suffer several other torments. The 1st was to make hatchets red-hot, and to apply them to the loins and under the armpits. They made a collar of these red-hot hatchets, and put it on the neck of this good Father. This is the fashion in which I have seen the collar made for other prisoners: They make six hatchets red-hot, take a large withe of green wood, pass the 6 hatchets over the large end of the withe, take the two ends together, and then put it over the neck of the sufferer. I slave seen no torment which more moved me to compassion than that. For you see a man, bound naked to a post, who, having this collar on his neck, cannot tell what posture to take. For, if he lean forward, those above his shoulders weigh the more on him; if he lean back, those on his stomach make him suffer the same torment; if he keep erect, without leaning to one side or other, the burning ratchets, applied equally on both sides, give him a trouble torture. After that they put on him a belt of bark, full of pitch and resin, and set fire to it, which roasted his whole body. During all these torments, Father de [page 29] Brebœuf endured like a rock, insensible to fire and flames, which astonished all the bloodthirsty wretches who tormented him. His zeal was so great that he preached continually to these infidels, to try to convert them. His executioners were enraged against him for constantly speaking to them of God and of their conversion. To prevent him from speaking more, they cut off his tongue, and both his upper and lower lips. After that, they set themselves to strip the flesh from his legs, thighs, and arms, to the very bone; and then put it to roast before his eyes, in order to eat it. While they tormented him in this manner, those wretches derided him, saying: " Thou seest plainly that we treat thee as a friend, since we shall be the cause of thy Eternal happiness; thank us, then, for these good offices which we render thee,—for, the more thou shalt suffer, the more will thy God reward thee. " Those butchers, seeing that the good Father began to grow weak, made him sit down on the ground; and, one of them, taking a knife, cut off the skin covering his skull. Another one of those barbarians, seeing that the good Father would soon die, made an opening in the upper part of his chest, and tore out his heart, which he roasted and ate. Others came to drink his blood, still warm, which they drank with both hands,—saying that Father de Brebceuf had been very courageous to endure so much pain as they had given him, and that, by drinking his blood, they would become courageous like him.

where we take charge of the French as well as of the savages, there are no defenses except of wood; no walls except palings, which easily catch fire; there is no house except of bark or thatch; and in these we live, [page 21] with no defense against barbarian attach dub If God in his goodness deliver me, a sinner, to their fury, gladly and willingly for his glory, and for my sheep, will I lay down my life, which I do not hold more precious than their salvation.

However, it is only the rich who lose nothing, or very little, in this feast. The middle classes and the poor bring and leave there [page 303] whatever they have most valuable, and suffer much, in order not to appear less liberal than the others in this celebration. Every one makes it a point of honor.

Let me describe the arrangement of this place. It was about the size of the place Royale at Paris. There was in the middle of it a great pit, about ten feet deep and five brasses wide. All around it was a scaffold, a sort of staging very well made, nine to ten brasses in width, and from nine to ten feet high; above this staging there were a number of poles laid across, and well arranged, with cross-poles to which these packages of souls were hung and bound.

These simple people are not like so many Christians, who cannot endure that any one should speak to them about death, and who in a mortal sickness put a whole house to trouble to find means of breaking the news to the sick man without hastening his death. Here when any one's health is despaired of, not only do they make no difficulty in telling him that his life is near its close, but they even prepare [page 265] in his presence all that is needed for his burial; they often show him the robe, the stockings, the shoes, [186] and the belt which he is to wear. Frequently they are prepared after their fashion for burial, before they have expired; they make their farewell feast to their friends, at which they sometimes sing without showing any dread of death, which they regard with very little concern, considering it only as the passage to a life differing very little from this. As soon as the sick man has drawn his last breath, they place him in the position in which he is to be in the

our Savages

When he goes fishing, he mixes his ashes with a little water, and, having rubbed his nets with them, he feels confident that the fish will enter them in abundance; in fact, he has acquired fame from this.

Of three kinds of games especially in use among these Peoples,—namely, the games of crosse, dish, and straw

But the most magnificent of these feasts are those they call Atouronta ochien, that is, singing feasts. These feasts will often last twenty-four entire hours; sometimes there are thirty or forty kettles, and as many as thirty Deer will be eaten. This last winter one was made in the village of Andiata, of twenty-five kettles, [page 179] in which there were fifty great fish, larger than our largest Pike in France, and one hundred and twenty others of the size of our Salmon. Another took place at Contarrea, of thirty kettles, in which there were twenty Deer and four Bears. Also there is usually a large company, for eight or nine villages will often be [125] invited, and even the whole Country. In this case the master of the feast sends to each captain as many sticks as the number of persons he invites from each Village.

They tell marvels of this Rock. According to their story, it was formerly a man who was, I know not how, changed into stone.

Now this false belief they have about souls is kept up among them by means of certain stories which the fathers tell their children, which are so poorly put together that I am perfectly astounded to see .how men believe them and accept them as truth. [page 147] Here are two of the most stupid ones, which I get from persons of intelligence and judgment among them.

"But," said I to him, "whence have you learned all this news of the other world?" "It is," he told me, "persons brought back to life, who have reported it."

At the feast of the Dead, which takes place about every twelve years

Others attribute this fall to another cause, which seems to have some relation to the case of Adam, but falsehood makes up the greater part of it. They say that the husband of Aataentsic, being very sick, dreamed that it was necessary to cut down a certain tree from which those who abode in Heaven obtained their food; and that, as soon as he ate of the fruit, [page 127] he would be immediately healed. Aataentsic, knowing the desire of her husband, takes his axe and goes away with the resolution not to make two trips of it; but she had no sooner dealt the first [88] blow than the tree at once split, almost under her feet, and fell to this earth; whereupon she was so astonished that, after having carried the news to her husband, she returned and threw herself after it. Now, as she fell, the Turtle, happening to raise her head above water, perceived her; and, not knowing what to decide upon, astonished as she was at this wonder, she called together the other aquatic animals to get their opinion. They immediately assembled; she points out to them what she saw, and asks them what they think it fitting to do. The greater part refer the matter to the Beaver, who, through courtesy, hands over the whole to the judgment of the Turtle, whose final opinion was that they should all promptly set to work, dive to the bottom of the water, bring up soil to her, and put. it on her back. No sooner said than done, and the woman fell very gently on this Island. Some time after, as she was with child when she fell, she was delivered of a daughter, who almost immediately became pregnant. If you ask them how, you puzzle them very much. At all events, they tell you, she was pregnant. Some throw the blame upon some strangers, [89] who landed on this Island. I pray you make this agree with what they say, that, before Aataentsic fell from the Sky, there were no men on earth. However that may be, she brought forth two boys, Tawiscaron and Iouskeha, who, when they grew up, had some quarrel with each other; judge if this does not relate in some way to the murder of Abel. They came to blows, but with very different [page 129] weapons. Iouskeha had the horns of a Stag; Tawiscaron, who contented himself with some fruits of the wild rosebush, was persuaded that, as soon as he had struck his brother, he would fall dead at his feet. But it happened quite differently from what he had expected; and Iouskeha, on the contrary, struck him so rude a blow in the side, that the blood came forth abundantly. This poor wretch immediately fled; and from his blood, with which the land was sprinkled, certain stones sprang up, like those we employ in France to fire a gun,—which the Savages call even to-day Tawiscara, from the name of this unfortunate. His brother pursued him, and finished him. This is what the greater part believe concerning the origin of these Nations.

For they think the Heavens existed a long time before this wonder; but they cannot tell you when or how its great bodies were drawn from the abysses of nothing. They suppose, even, that above the arches of the Sky there was and still is a land like ours, with woods, lakes, rivers and fields, and Peoples who inhabit them. They do not agree as to the manner in which this so fortunate descent occurred. [87] Some say that one day, as she was working in her field, she perceived a Bear; her dog began to pursue it and she herself afterwards. The Bear, seeing himself closely pressed, and seeking only to escape the teeth of the dog, fell by accident into a hole; the dog followed him. Aataentsic, having approached this precipice, finding that neither the Bear nor the dog were any longer to be seen, moved by despair, threw herself into it also. Nevertheless, her fall happened to be more favorable than she had supposed; for she fell down into the waters without being hurt, although she was with child,—after which, the Waters having dried up little by little, the earth appeared and became habitable.

A woman, whose mother had died a short time before, almost lost her desire to be baptized because the command, Thou shalt honor thy Father and thy Mother, had been inadvertently quoted to her.

Hence it is that we are at a loss in explaining to them many important matters, depending upon a knowledge of these things.

Could we wish a nobler opportunity to exercise Charity than amid the roughness and discomfort of a new world, where no human art or industry has yet provided any conveniences?

Besides your spiritual exercises, you have no other employment [page 103] than the study of the language, and conversation with the Savages. Ah! how much pleasure there is for a heart devoted to God to make itself the little Scholar of a Savage and of a little child, thereby to gain them for God, and to render them Disciples of our Lord!

pronounced in their language this Prayer:

and yet the way of saying a thing gives it an entirely different meaning.

He said that the French who had been here had never spoken to them of God, but had been as much addicted as they to run after and dally with the women.

he tried to blend our creed with their superstitions and nonsense, and said that he wished to go with his Ancestors.

We do not wish to be separated from our children, we desire to go to Heaven with them.

wicked

hear these districts resound with the name of Jesus, where the devil has been, so to speak, adored and recognized as God during so many ages.

This method, along with the little rewards

teaching the children, whether baptized or not, Christian doctrine,

The evil is, they are so attached to their old customs that, knowing the beauty of truth, they are content to approve it without embracing it. Their usual reply is, oniondechouten, "Such is the custom of our country." We have fought this excuse and have taken it from their mouths, but not yet from their hearts; our Lord will do that when it shall please him.

as they are the ones who determine and decide all matters, and everything is ordered by their advice.

accent of that Nation is a little different from that of the Bears, with whom we live

eighty-six have been baptized, and, adding to these the fourteen of last year, there are a hundred souls in all who, we believe, have been rescued from the service of the devil in this country since our return.