Part 24 (1/2)
When we compare the greatness of the ends secured, with the smartness of the means employed, a review of the results of the Moravian Missions, throughout the heathen world, will strike us with astonishment.
The character of the Moravian women peculiarly fitted them for the work.
They were a mixed race. The fiery enthusiasm of the Sclaves was in them blended with the steadfast energy and patient docility of the Germans. The fire of their natures was a holy fire--a lambent flame which lighted but did not destroy. Their creed was one of love; it was a _joyful persuasion_ of their interest in Christ and their t.i.tle to His purchased salvation. Here, then, we have the key to the success which attended the Moravian Missions in all parts of the world. They brought the heathen to the feet of Christ by the spirit of love; they faced every danger and endured every hards.h.i.+p in the cause of their Master, for theirs' was a _joyful persuasion_. They were the ”_Herrenhutters_,” the soldiers of the Lord, and yet in their lives they were representatives of the Prince of Peace, and sought to gather about them in this life the emblems of heaven.
It was before the middle of the last century that those gentle and pious brothers and sisters commenced their especial labors among the North American Indians, and to-day those labors have not ceased.
The story of these Moravian Missions for nearly a century is one long religious epic poem, full of action, suffering, battle, bereavement,--all illumined with the dauntless, fervent, Christ-like spirit which bore these gentle ministers along their high career. Their princ.i.p.al field of labor for the first forty years was Pennsylvania, where they established missionary stations at Bethlehem, Gnadenhutten, (tents of grace,) Nazareth, Friedenshutten, (tents of peace,) Wechquetank, and many other places.
The settlement at Gnadenhutten was the most important and the most interesting, historically considered, of all the stations. Here the Moravian brothers and sisters showed themselves at their best, and that is saying much. a.s.suming every burden, making every sacrifice, and performing the hardest service, they at the same time displayed consummate tact and address in conciliating their red brethren, taking their meals in common with them, and even adopting the Indian, costume.
In a short time Gnadenhutten became a regular and pleasant town. The church, stood in a valley. On one side were the Indian houses, in the form of a crescent, upon a rising ground; on the other, the houses of the missionaries and a burying-ground. The Indians labored diligently in the fields, one of which was allotted to each family; and as these became too small, the brethren purchased a neighboring plantation and erected a saw-mill. Hunting, however, continued to be their usual occupation. As this is a precarious mode of subsistence, a supply of provisions was constantly forwarded from Bethlehem. The congregation increased by degrees to about five hundred persons. A new place of wors.h.i.+p was opened and a school established. The place was visited by many heathen Indians, who were struck with the order, and happiness of the converts, and were prepared to think favorably of the Christian religion.
Besides laboring with unwearied diligence at Gnadenhutten, the brethren made frequent journeys among the Indians in other parts. Several establishments were attempted, among which one was at Sh.o.m.oken, on the Susquehanna river. This was attended with great expense, as every necessary of life was carried from Bethlehem. The missionaries were likewise in constant danger of their lives from the drunken frolics of the natives.
They visited Onondaga, the chief town of the Iroquois, and the seat of their great council, and obtained permission for two of them to settle there and learn the language. They went, but suffered much from want, being obliged to hunt, or seek roots in the forest, for subsistence.
The missionaries' wives united with their husbands in these arduous labors in the wilderness, and their kind offices and gentle ways did much to render the missionary work entirely effectual.
Under such auspices for eight years, Gnadenhutten was the smiling abode of peace, happiness, and prosperity. The good work was bringing forth its legitimate fruits. A large Indian congregation was being instructed in the Word and prepared to disseminate the doctrines of Christ among their heathen brethren, when the din of the French and Indian war was heard on the border. The Moravians in their various settlements were soon surrounded literally with circles of blood and flame. Some of them fled eastward to the larger towns; others sought concealment in the depths of the forest or on the mountains.
The Brethren at Bethlehem and Gnadenhutten resolved to stand at their post.
Slowly the fiery circles encompa.s.sed them closely and more closely till November, 1755, when the long expected bolt fell.
The missionaries with their wives and families were a.s.sembled in one house partaking of their evening meal, when a party of French Indians approached.
Hearing the barking of the dogs, Senseman, one of the Brethren, went to the back door and others at the same time hearing the report of a gun rushed to the front door, where they were met by a band of hideously painted savages with guns pointed ready to fire the moment the door was opened.
The Rev. Martin Nitschman fell dead in the doorway. His wife and others were wounded, but fled with the rest up to the garret and barricaded the door with bedsteads. One of the Brethren escaped by jumping out of a back window, and another who was ill in bed did the same though a guard stood before his door. The savages now pursued those who had taken, refuge in the garret, and strove hard to break in the door, but finding it too well secured, they set fire to the house. It was instantly in flames.
At this time a boy called Sturgeous, standing upon the flaming roof, ventured to leap off, and thus escaped. A ball had previously grazed his cheek, and one side of his head was much burnt. Mr. Partsch likewise leaped from the roof while on fire, unhurt and un.o.bserved. Fabricius made the same attempt, but was brought down by two b.a.l.l.s, seized alive and scalped. All the rest, eleven in number, were burned to death. Senseman, who first went out, had the inexpressible grief of seeing his wife perish in the flames.
Mrs. Partsch, who had escaped, could not, through fear and trembling, go far, but hid herself behind a tree upon a hill near the house. From this place the gentle sister of that forlorn band gazed trembling and with ghastly features upon that scene of fire and butchery. She saw her beloved brethren and sisters dragged forth and shot or tomahawked. Before the breath had left their bodies she saw the scalps torn from their heads, some of the wounded women kneeling and imploring for mercy in vain. The burning house was the funeral pyre from which the loving spirit of Mrs. Senseman took its flight to eternal rest. Gazing through the windows which the fire now illumined with a lurid glare, she saw Mrs. Senseman surrounded by flames standing with arms folded and exclaiming--”'Tis all well, dear Saviour!”
One of the closing scenes in the history of the protracted toils and sufferings of the missionaries of Gnadenhutten, is of thrilling and tragical interest. Ninety-six of the Indian converts having been treacherously lured from the settlement, and taken prisoners, by hostile Indians and white renegades, were told that they must prepare for death.
Then was displayed a calmness and courage worthy of the early Christian martyrs. Kneeling down in that dreadful hour; those unfortunate Indian believers prayed fervently to the G.o.d of all; then rising they suffered themselves to be led unresistingly to the place appointed for them to die.
The last sounds that could be heard before the awful butchery was finished were the prayers and praises of the Indian women, of whom there were forty, thus testifying their unfaltering trust in the promise taught them by their white sisters--the devoted Moravians of Gnadenhutten.
CHAPTER XVII.
WOMAN AS A MISSIONARY TO THE INDIANS--(CONTINUED)
Of all that devout and heroic bands of men and women who have undertaken to bear the hards.h.i.+ps and face the dangers of our American wilderness, for the special purpose of carrying the Gospel of peace, love, and brotherhood to the benighted denizen of our American forests, none have exhibited more signal courage, patience, and devotion than the companies which first selected Oregon as their special field of labor.
In order to properly estimate the appliances and dangers of this enterprise, the Oregon field must be surveyed, not from our present point of view, when steam locomotive power on land and water has brought that distant region within comparatively easy reach; when the hands of the State and National Government have grown strong to defend, and can be stretched a thousand leagues in an hour to punish, if the lightning brings tidings of wrong; when a mult.i.tude of well-ordered communities have power and lawful authority to protect their citizens; and when peace and comfort are the accompaniments, and a competency is the reward of industry.
How different was the view of Oregon presented to the eye in 1834! A vast tract of wilderness, covering an area of more than three hundred thousand square miles, composed of sterile wastes, unbroken forests, and almost impa.s.sable ranges of mountains, presenting a constant succession of awful precipices, rugged crags, and yawning chasms, and traversed by rapid torrents, emptying into rivers full of perils to the navigator. This mighty expanse was roamed by more than thirty different Indian tribes; the only white inhabitants being at the few posts and settlements of the Hudson Bay Company. The different routes by which this region could be reached presented to the traveler a dilemma, either side of which was full of difficulty.
The water route was nearly twenty thousand miles in length, and involved a long and perilous voyage round Cape Horn. The land route was across the continent, through the gorges and over the precipices of the Rocky Mountains, up and down the dangerous rivers, and among numerous bloodthirsty tribes. Such was the opening prospect offered to the eye of religious enterprise, when the question of the mission to Oregon was first agitated.
It is something more than forty years since the ”Macedonian Cry” was heard from the dark mountains and savage plains of that far country, startling the Christian church in America. The thrill of the appeal made by the delegation of Flathead Indians, was electric, and fired the churches of all the princ.i.p.al denominations with a spirit of n.o.ble emulation.