The
following beautiful and thrillingly interesting letter of Father
Bax is the last that good man ever wrote. In this letter he
mentions the scourge of cholera that raged among the Indians.
The Father, in the midst of his gentle ministry among the
afflicted, was himself stricken and called beyond to his heavenly
reward. Just before his death he wrote a short note in which
he very briefly mentioned the spreading of the disease and
closed with the words: “No one knows who will be the next to
go.” He was himself numbered with “the next to go.”
The appended story of he massacre of Confederate officers by Osage
Indians is of even more thrilling interest than the original story
of that gruesome tragedy as published in the February Osage.
In this, Col. Warner Lewis, of Montgomery City, Missouri, tells of
his being the sole survivor of that calamity. It was
heretofore believed that not one survived. The editors have
appended certain notations with Col. Lewis’ version with that of
the Osage Indians as they relate the incident.
These two bring our series of sketches up to the close of the
Civil War, closing what we for convenience term the second period
of Osage history. The third and last period is in many
respects a more thrilling story than any yet recounted in this
remarkable series. This will begin in the next number of
OSAGE.
This third period witnesses the end of the old rule wherein the
licensed trader was also the Government Agent, and introduces in
its stead the Quaker regime inaugurated under President Grant.[01]
It also includes the land controversy in Kansas and the claims of
the Joy Railroad Company[02]
and the efforts on the part of the citizens of Kansas to oust the
Osage from their state. This movement being made before
Congress had time to buy the lands from the Indians, almost forced
upon the Osage the fraudulent Joy treaty, which was, however
prevented by the heroic efforts of Major Isaac T. Gibson, Quaker
agent appointed by President Grant.
This period will also describe the last buffalo hunts of the Osage
and some tragic scenes of warfare between them and the Kiowas and
Araphoes.
Letter of Father Bax,
Jesuit Missionary
Village of St. Francix
Hieronymo, June 10, 1850
Rev. and Very Dear Father:
In my last letter I was obliged against my inclination to give you
a very abridged description of the truly prosperous state of our
schools.
Nothing astonishes the whites more than the extraordinary progress
of our little Osages in the different branches taught them.
Such are: reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, needlework,
embroidery and drawing for the girls. To these dispositions all
join a very decided taste for music, and find great pleasure in
singing pious canticles.
They are, besides,
very polite, docile, and obedient. As soon as they perceive
a white, their first movement is to go and present him the hand.
Their sensibility and good dispositions have often alleviated the
pain that we experienced when our means would not suffer us to
provide for their necessities.
If it happens that one of the Fathers is absent during three or
four days, they are on the watch for the moment when he is
expected. As soon as they perceive him, which sometimes
takes place at a distance of three or four miles, nothing can
hinder them from running to meet him, and crying out: “Father,
how are you? How do you do?”
The greater number among them are remarkable for truly admirable
sentiments of devotion. Hence religion is the most
efficacious means for correcting the faults usual at their age.
The most powerful rebuke that we can make them is to ask them:
“My child, when you were baptized, did you not promise God that
you would be good?” Of a considerable number, we may
report great progress in the catechism. Forty have made
their first communion. These last visit the Blessed
Sacrament with as much regularity and devotion as the most fervent
among the faithful.
The above, Rev. Father, gives us the highest consolation.
Hardly two years since, these little neophytes were running naked
in the woods and on the plains, addicted to every kind of vice,
and having no knowledge of their creator, nor of the end of their
creation. Never has the goodness of God been more manifest
to me; never have I seen the divine influence more generally felt
and better appreciated; never before this day, have I been so
intimately convinced that the Lord offers to all nations, to every
family and to each individual, the means of being saved, and of
being united to the Holy Church.
What happened to us on the day of our arrival here, serves as a
powerful confirmation of this truth. It was reported to us that an
Indian had just died in a village about four miles distant.
I expressed to my informant the grief this misfortune caused me.
He told me that another man, in the same place, was at the point
of death. In the hope of arriving in time to baptize him, I
set out immediately. Arrived at the place where the Neosho
divides into two branches, I found the water so swollen that it
was impossible to pass them, and would be so during several days
more.
On the fourth day (it was Sunday), a half-blood passed the river
on the trunk of a tree to come and hear mass. I questioned
him concerning the state of the sick man. He had been in his agony
during four days; he had never shown an excellent deportment, and
had manifested an earnest desire to see the Blackgown who had come
to announce the word of God to his nation. I mounted my
horse directly, with some apprehension that my guide might delay
my arrival. In this I was mistaken for he reached there more
quickly on foot than I on my horse
I found my Indian extremely ill, evidently he was hastening
rapidly to eternity. As soon as I entered the lodge he
saluted me with joy and affection. I made him comprehend, by
means of the interpreter, that I came to speak with him on the
Great Spirit, and instruct him in the truth necessary to
salvation. “I thank thee, Father. Your words are kind and
consoling; my heart is overjoyed that thou hast come.”
Such were the words he addressed me with a dying voice. I
spoke to him of the dispositions requisite for receiving baptism,
and told him, among other things, that he must renounce all the
bad actions that he might have committed, be contrite for them,
and never again do evil, though he might be restored to health;
that if he was sincerely disposed to act thus, the Great Spirit
would forget all the sins of his past life. “Father,” he
replied. “I always wished to be good; I never stole; I
never became drunk, I have never killed. However, I have
offended the Great Spirit. I repeat my desire to please him,
so that, if I die, he may have mercy on me ,and grant me the grace
of being admitted into his presence.” Fatigued with the
effort, he had made to speak, he kept silent during several
moments: then again opening his eye, he said: “Father, if
thou believest me worthy of receiving baptism, thou wilt grant me
a great favor and many blessings.” Fully satisfied with
the lively desire that he manifested, I administered that
sacrament to him. Scarcely was the regenerated in the
healing waters of the baptism than he expired, and went to enjoy
the happiness reserved to the children of he Church.
The consoling death of this Indian was followed by a most
distressing scene I had ever witnessed demonstration of sorrow so
profound. The men, throwing off that stoical indifference
which appears so natural to them, heaved deep sighs and shed
torrents of tears, the women, with disheveled hair, shrieked and
gave all the signs of despair over which reason cannot
predominate. I buried the Indian on the following day in
accordance with ritual of the Church. The whole village was
present at the ceremony. The assistants witnessed the
attention and respect which we pay to the dead with a deep
gratitude. From that time forth, we have always assisted the
sick in their agony. The time for instructing them is very
short, and their ideas concerning religion are more than
imperfect: but, on the other side, they have all the simplicity
and good will of children, and their dispositions are most
consoling.
A few days ago I baptized the oldest man in the nation.
Impossible to tell you the impressions I experienced when pouring
the holy water over that head, whitened with length of years.
Baptism is one of the sacraments of our holy religion that the
Indians understand the best and it is the one that they are most
desirous in receiving.
Some incidents, that a few would style providential, and others
accidental, have contributed much to augment in this tribe faith
concerning the efficacy of that sacrament. I will cite but one
example.
One evening—It was during the autumn of 1818—an Indian arrived
at the Mission. Grief and anxiety were depicted on his face.
As soon as he perceived me, he said to me: “Father, come without
delay, for my wife is dying. All despair, and I consider her
already dead. Thou didst tell us to call thee when anyone
was sick or in danger of death. I wish her to learn the
words of the Great Spirit before she dies. This is why I
come to call thee.” I had just arrived from a village
called Cairra-Shinka, or Little Village, situated thirty miles
from the Mission. I was exhausted with fatigue. But
how resist an invitation so pressing, and above all, in a
circumstance so grave? After a moment of repose, I set out
with the man. Arriving at the village at midnight, I found
the lodge filled with women and children, crying and singing the
Indian death-song. I besought them to conclude these
lugubrious accents, and approached the sick women, extended on a
buffalo-hide, and scarcely covered with some tattered blankets.
She was unconscious. As she appeared to me not likely to
soon return to herself I resolved to remain until morning.
An Indian had the kindness to lend me his blanket; I wrapped
myself in it and endeavored to take a few hours’ rest. But
it was vain. I never passed such a miserable night.
The women and the children recommenced their frightful clamor; the
dogs of the wigwam passed back and forward over me with such
steady regularity that it would have been quite impossible to me
to count the number of visits. About daylight, the patient
began to give some signs of life; but she could not yet speak.
As soon as she had recovered her senses entirely, I made her a
short exhortation. She appeared attentive, and gave signs of
real joy. I baptized her and departed. Two hours after my
leaving she was perfectly recovered. She arose, took her
infant, and nursed it.
Not long after, I returned to the same village, and found myself
immediately surrounded by men, women and children, shouting,
unanimously, “Komkai,”—we are very glad to see you.
This word is used for giving a cordial reception. After
recounting to me the fact, and the cure of the sick woman, they
brought me twenty-five children to baptize. “Father,”
they said to me, “we believe thy words. We know that
baptism comes from the Great Spirit. We are poor, ignorant
people; we cannot read the book that contains the word of the
Great Spirit; but thou wilt explain it to us, and we will believe
thee.” I have had very evident proofs of the sincerity of
their good intentions, and of their firm resolutions not to offend
God, after having received baptism.
About a month ago I stopped at an Indian wigwam. Its inmates
had not been able to go to the chase on account of the illness of
their little daughter. Her mother told me that they were
suffering with hunger, and that they had not eaten meat for a long
time. She added that she had seen a stray ox in the forest,
belonging to a white man, and that she would have killed it had
she not recalled the promise that she had made at her
baptism—rather to die than to do that which is sinful that she
preferred to die of hunger to offending the Great Spirit; and,
that if she had killed the ox, the Great Spirit would no longer
have had compassion on her in her misery. This little
recital pleased and edified me. I could not refrain from
reflecting, that the condition of the world would be widely
different did all Christians remember as faithfully and
practically their baptismal vow as did this poor Indian woman.
So far we have baptized more than five hundred persons. One
hundred adults and children have had the happiness of receiving
the sacrament of regeneration before dying. When the Indians
are well taught, we have not much to fear in regard to their
exemplary conduct. The greatest obstacle for us is in the
difficulty that we experience in acquiring their tongue. It
contains very few words, and those quite inconvenient for
expressing abstract ideas. These people have some confused
ideas of a Supreme Being, of the immortality of the soul, of the
bliss or of the chastisements of the future life; but these ideas
are mingled with material and superstitious notions. The
following is an example:
They believe that those whom the Great Spirit admits into his
happy abode will there receive an abundance of buffaloes, moose,
deer, and corn: that when a person dies, his soul continues
to inhabit the place in which it quitted the body; that souls
sometimes return from the other world, to take and conduct there
other souls. For this reason they fear to travel in the
dark, especially when anyone is very ill; they think that then
there certainly is some spirit fluttering about in the air.
Some of their Vig-kontah (jugglers) pretend, on many
occasions, to have the power of chasing this spirit, and of saving
the life of the person who is dangerously sick. When there
is danger of death, the most superstitious have frequent recourse
to these “medicine men,” a horse, a mule, or even several must
reward these impostors who by this trade had gained, in one spring
only, thirty-two horses. Their efforts tend principally to
persuading the poor Indians not to call upon us in their maladies.
They declare, with the greatest assurance, that they will
annul the efficaciousness of our power.
Last spring I went to pay a visit to the Little Osages. The
day of my arrival, I baptized three persons, who were dangerously
sick; they died the next day. Some days after, a malignant
fever broke out, and proved fatal to many. The jugglers
attributed the cause of the scourge to my presence, declaring that
I annihilated their power over the spirits. It is
afflicting, but also somewhat laughable, to see these jugglers
endeavoring to drive away the spirits. They make themselves
as hideous as possible, equip themselves with all their
instruments and weapons, discharge their guns, brandish their
clubs and tomahawks, beat the drum, and have recourse, in fine, to
whatever can produce a noise in a word, they employ all imaginable
tricks to deceive these poor Indians. But their power, which
was formerly very great, is beginning to decline. The esteem
which the savages had for them is daily diminishing. The
Indians are attached to us, principally, say they, because we have
no wives and children. “If you had,” they say, “you
would do like the missionaries (the Presbyterians) who preceded
you; you would think too much of your families, and you would
neglect the red man and his children.”
I often go and visit them in their villages, and I am always
received with the greatest civility. A crier precedes me, to
announce my approach. When they are all collected in a large
wigwam, or beneath the wide-spread branches of some stately tree,
I begin my instruction. They listen most attentively.
When I have done speaking, the chief rises, and addresses his
tribe some words of paternal advice, and repeats what the
missionary has said or makes comments on it. One Sunday a
chief named Pai-nonpahe, of the Great Hill village on the
Verdigris river, came to see his two children , who were boarding
with us. A short instruction, which I gave after mass,
produced such an impression in his mind, that, when returning
home, he said to a half-breed who accompanied him: "I
begin now to discover what we must do to be agreeable to the Great
Spirit, and to become happy in this life and in the other."
The excellent health enjoyed by our children at the mission school
greatly astonishes the parents. Indeed, thus far, sickness
has been unknown among them; not one of them has died since we
have been here. This contributes much to augment the
confidence which the Indians feel towards us, and dissipates all
their fears during the season of the great hunts, in which they
are obliged to remove from us for several months.
When the frightful ravages caused by the cholera along the river
Kansas, at Westport, and in other places, were known here, the
Osages, panic-struck, immediately resolved to go and seek safety
in the plains. Some desired to conduct their children with
them; but the majority opposed it, in the firm persuasion that
they would be in security under the care of the Black-gowns, and
protected by the Son of God and his Holy Mother. They,
therefore, retired to the plains, and left their children with us.
They had been but a short time in their new abode when the cholera
declared itself in the most terrible manner, and carried off a
great number. Perceiving their error in having fled from the
mission, they hastened to return, and encamp, as they said, quite
near the kind Fathers. The consequently hastened with such
precipitation that they made no provision and traveled day and
night. In proportion as they reached their own lands the
scourge diminished. The last case of death occurred at
fifteen miles from the mission.
The greatest difficulties we encounter arise from the half-bloods,
almost all of French origin. They have nothing of the
Catholic but baptism, and an inviolable attachment to their creed,
of which, for want of instruction, they know almost nothing, and
they practice still less. They have, again and again, proved
to the Protestant ministers that their efforts to make them change
their religion were absolutely useless.
Another
obstacle for us is the mode of life that the Indians are obliged
to lead, in order to procure the provisions that are necessary for
their subsistence. They commonly pass six months of the year
in the chase, which forces them to remove from us, and exposes the
morality of those who would wish to live as exemplary Christians,
to great temptations and dangers. I hope that this state of
affairs will change; for many are already convinced that they
cannot long rely on the game; and that they should have already
commenced cultivating the grounds, had they but the means
necessary.
A deputation of the nation, composed of the principal chief, of
five warriors, and an interpreter, went to pay a visit to the
“Great Father.” President Taylor received them with the
greatest kindness, and encouraged them to commence cultivating
their lands. I cannot express to you the gratitude that I
experience when I think of the truly paternal care lavished on my
dear savages by their “Great Father” and by all officers
employed in the Indian department. The savages have been
greatly flattered by it. I am fully convinced that great
good will result from it.
This, Rev. Father, is but an imperfect sketch of the state of our
mission, in which we hope to gather many fruits of salvation, if
it please God that we remain in it. Pecuniary difficulties
have placed, and still place us in very critical positions; but,
Rev. Father, the assistance that we sometimes receive from the
Propagation of the Faith, from some generous hearts and friends of
the Indians, relieves us. We hope in divine providence for
all and in all. “God is faithful.” Commend us to
the prayers of your pious congregation, and of your kind community
in St. Louis.
Reverend and most dear Father,
Your devoted brother in Jesus Christ,
J. J. Bax, S. J.
