CHAPTER VII
SICKNESS AND DEATH OF LOUISE.
WE may apply to Louise the beautiful words of the Scriptures: "Being made perfect in a short space, he fulfilled a long time."-Wisdom, iv. 13. After her vocation to the faith, she did not indeed live long years on the earth, but her years were full of merits before God. "She walked in the ways of the Lord with a rapist step." In all that she did, she constantly kept her eyes fixed on her heavenly home, awaiting those eternal goods of which the great Apostle speaks; she made noble efforts, and employed all her moments to embellish and enrich her soul with all Christian virtues. By her regular attendance at the instructions, by her constant spirit of prayer, by the practice of every species of good work, she increased more and more in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and sweet Saviour, Jesus Christ.
Her last illness left her the use of all her faculties, which she preserved to her last breath. She thus prepared for death with all the tranquillity of the just. Her prayer was fervent and uninterrupted, her patience superior to every trial. Entirely taken up with the salvation of her soul, she seemed utterly unmindful of the sufferings of her body; she sought no relief, and never betrayed the least sign of impatience; she often tenderly kissed the cross, which she always carried around her neck. The desire of the Apostle "to be dissolved and to be with Christ" (Phil. i. 23), seemed to be during her illness her only motto and her only preoccupation.
"Always at the bedside of her who had so greatly aided me in my visits to the sick, and who had always served as my interpreter, and given me her aid with the ignorant,-the spiritual directress, the guardian angel of her whole tribe,-I had the happiness to witness this touching scene." says Father Gazzoli, the spiritual director of Louise. "Her virtues had shone like a brilliant torch amid the Indians; she had never sullied the white robe of innocence which she had received in baptism. I witnessed the great power of the Cross, which displayed in the desert virtues till then unknown which produces wherever it is planted so many holy martyrs, so many confessors, so many virgins and illustrious penitents. Here, amid these isolated mountains, appears a poor Indian woman, whose unshaken faith and firm hope render her superior to trials of every kind. I desired to relieve her in some way; she in obedience gratefully received what I offered, yet without seeking or asking the slightest relief or the slightest mitigation of her pains, which she accepted as so many special graces of our Lord."
Louise received from the hands of the minister of God all the consolations of the Church, the Holy Viaticum especially, with truly angelic piety and consolation. She thanked our Lord in all the humility of her soul, for the great favors which he deigned to grant her in that last hour of her earthly anguish, committing to his holy Providence her crippled husband and beloved children. She then made an effort to rally her little remaining strength, to thank her spiritual director for all the care which he constantly lavished on her, and especially in his instructions; she especially commended to his spirtual care the charge of all her family. The words which Louise addressed to her husband and her grieving children were consoling, full of trust in God's divine and paternal goodness, full of resignation to His holy will, and of firm hope to be one day all united again in their heavenly home. At last she turned to those who surrounded her death bed, happy witnesses of all these edifying scenes, which the just dying in the Lord present to the living, and which realize the words of Holy Writ: "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord."-Apoc. xiv. 13. She begged those around to intone in their language the touching hymn in honor of the souls in purgatory, and accompanied it herself in a feeble and dying voice scarcely perceptible. They were still singing it when Louise, unperceived by any, slept calmly in our Lord.
Her beautiful soul had taken its heavenward flight. She happily left the place of trouble, misery, and death, to pass to an abode of glory and peace, the delights whereof are eternal. In her were fulfilled what St. James teaches us when he says: "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation, for when he hath been proved, he shall receive the crown of life, which God hath promised to them that love him."-St. James, i. 12. In the pleasing hope that henceforth the eternal crown is her lot, with the deep-seated trust in her power with God, we addressed to her in heaven our poor prayers: "O Louise, intercede with God for him who conferred baptism on you, and was your spiritual director; for your husband, for your children, and for all your dear Skizoumish. Obtain for us all the grace of perseverance in the holy service of our Lord. Amen."
I (Fr. Gazzoli) then addressed those around:
"Skizoumish! the example of the pious Sighouin is in your midst, we must profit by it. Henceforth she belongs to the whole nation, for she is the common beloved mother. As we all one day desire to share the glorious reward which she has just obtained by her virtues and good works, we must all follow the path which she has traced for us, and which leads to everlasting happiness. From the day of her baptism, in April, 1842, she constantly, night and day, devoted herself to your instruction. In the service of her God, she accepted with joy and eagerness, the privations, misery, contradictions, which it pleased Him to send her. In her this day are verified the words of the Lord addressed to the just: `Because thou hast kept the word of my patience, I will also keep thee from the hour of temptation, which shall come upon the whole world to try them that dwell upon the earth.' "-Apoc. iii. 10.
The death of Louise Sighouin was the signal of a sudden desolation and a universal grief in the tribe, which lost a mother beloved by all, and especially by the children, a faithful friend to the whole nation, the comfort of the sick and afflicted, a guide and a support! The loss was immense, we avow. Yet this mourning was that of a Christian people, and not that of a perverse and unbelieving world, that has no hope beyond the grave. Amid this Indian tribe was renewed the salutary sadness that we ordinarily admire at the death of the just, whose memory is ever dear and in benediction, according to the words of the Holy Ghost: "O how beautiful is the chaste generation with glory: for the memory thereof is immortal: because it is known both with God and with men." Wisdom, iv. 1.
The minister of the Lord was still reciting the last prayers of the Church, invoking the angels and saints to receive the soul of her who had just expired, to present it at the throne of the Most High, when one of these kneeling beside him, ran out crying: "Sighouin, good Sighouin is dead!" The cry was taken up and echoed in the valley and in the foot of the high mountains which encircle the Residence of the Sacred Heart. The Indians ran up in crowds around the lodge of the departed. In their impatience to gratify their desire of gazing once more on the pious woman, the lodge was invaded, but it was too small to hold them all, the mats were torn from the poles; the lodge thus opened on all sides, enabled the crowd of spectators to satisfy their pious wish, and they gazed in admiring silence on the last sleep of Louise.
It is a custom of the Indians for the relatives and friends of a deceased person to assemble in his lodge after his death. When the missionary, after reciting the prayers of the Church, leaves the lodge, he says: "Pray, my children, for the repose of his soul," and adds some words suited to the circumstances. Then, on a signal from one of the nearest relatives of the deceased, all present burst into tears and groans, either real or feigned, or rather they begin lamentations, often forced, and extorted rather by the usual ceremony, than by a real sorrow caused by the loss of the deceased. On Louise's death the scene of mourning was far different: it was, doubtless sincere. Father Gazzoli thus relates it: "I was an eyewitness, moved to tears by all that passed. My emotion kept increasing, especially when, even before the end of the prayers, universal cries, and tears, interrupted by sobs, announced clearly that no ceremony was enacting here, but on the contrary, they had assembled to pay a just tribute of gratitude and admiration to Louise's virtues, and to relieve the lively grief caused by her loss."
It must not be imagined that sunset, on this as on other occasions, put an end to these demonstrations of sorrow, regret, veneration, and love, displayed over the mortal remains of good Louise: they rather increased. The Indians immediately put up a vast lodge, which they illuminated by a fire of resinous wood. The body, becoming wrapped in skins of wild animals, was respectfully laid upon a bed of straw; a great number watch around, and recite prayers aloud during the whole night. The pious ceremonies of that night were till then unexampled in the country of the Coeur-d'Alenes. There was on this occasion a most touching, edifying, and extraordinary unanimity. Men, women, and children, were seen surrounding with equal eagerness the corpse of Louise, unable to tear themselves from her whom they called by so many titles, their mother, their guide, and their true friend. Their prayers and hymns were from time to time interrupted by edifying discourses on the life and heroic virtues of the deceased; the principal chiefs of the nation were the first to retrace most touching pictures of them for the assembly.
The missionary, struck at the spectacle of so striking a testimony borne to virtue by a people possessed of such feeble ideas of it, believed it his duty to go and preside in this pious assembly. He proceeded to the lodge about midnight, at the moment when the eldest son of the deceased was making a panegyric on his beloved mother. His beautiful words, full of simple, unstudied, true eloquence, produced the liveliest sensation and emotion in all his auditory. The abundance of his tears, which did not cease to flow as long as he spoke, prevented him from continuing his long and interesting discourse. The missionary then rose, and while exhorting his good Indians to imitate the example of Louise, he expressed the sentiments of esteem and admiration which her virtues and good works had excited in his heart from his arrival in the Mission.
On the day succeeding the death of Louise, her body was carried in procession early in the morning to the church, accompanied by all the Indians of the camp. The labors of the harvest were not resumed all that day. All thought alone of giving in the most expressive manner a mark of their love, their esteem, and their grief, to the common mother of the tribe. After a solemn Mass of Requiem, and all the other funeral ceremonies of the Church, Father Gazzoli resolved to leave the body exposed during the rest of the day, to satisfy the pious zeal, we might almost say ever increasing devotion, of the many friends of the deceased. Her children, her family, all, in a word, constantly pressed around the bier, and seemed unable to tear themselves from it. It would have seemed too hard and too cruel to put an end so soon to the last expressions of affection of that religious assemblage, of those truly Christian hearts.
At last the day began to wane, and the shades of night would soon infold the valley. The missionary had to make an effort to overcome his own feelings, and to propose to his good children in Christ a separation so afflicting and so painful to their hearts. Yet it was the most favorable time to give the interment a funereal grandeur, and a last tribute of love and respect to the precious remains of Sighouin.
The funeral surpassed all expectation. The children alone, boys and girls, as a proof of their innocent love, had thought of preparing with care a large quantity of resinous splinters. These primitive torches in the hands of these children of nature, dressed chiefly in bear, wolf, jaguar, beaver, and otter skins, added to the ceremony, sad and mournful in itself, a peculiar air of wild majesty and savage grandeur, in keeping with the place and the interesting occasion of the assemblage. Perfect order was observed in the procession; modest piety and holy silence reigned in the two long files, one composed of men and the other of women, where nothing was heard but the prayer and the chant. The grave had been dug by the children and kindred of Louise. Her simple and modest coffin was the work of her youngest son. On reaching the cemetery, the Indians ranged themselves in order around the grave, and after the last funeral prayers of the Church and some words of consolation from the priest, the coffin was lowered. Each one present then threw a spadeful of earth into the grave, pronouncing a prayer and a last adieu. This touching ceremony, and the most trifling incidents of the great funeral, live in the memory of our Coeur-d'Alenes. They repeat them and will repeat them to their grandchildren; they will render ever memorable this day of Christian sorrow, this religious triumph conferred on a poor Indian woman of the Skizoumish or Coeur-d'Alenes.
In the month of February, 1859, in one of my visits to the husband of Louise, a poor old cripple, unable for many years to walk without crutches, I conversed with him on the holy life led by his wife on earth, on her noble qualities, and the great virtues of which she had given so striking an example. I asked him what he had most loved and admired in her. "Truly, Father," he replied, "I cannot tell you in what Louise most excelled. From the blessed day on which you conferred baptism upon us, all was good and admirable in her life. Never to my knowledge was there the slightest shadow of a difference between us; not a syllable, not a word louder than another. When I was sick she carried me in the canoe; if I could not use my hands, she cut my food and put it in my mouth. Louise served me like a guardian angel. Now I am an object of pity and compassion, for I am weak in mind. I love to hear her consoling words, to listen to her wise counsels, to follow her salutary advice, for she was full of the wisdom and spirit of God. The Fathers taught her many beautiful prayers, and we recited them together with our children. Now I have no one to repeat those beautiful prayers to me, and I am to be pitied. Yet I never cease thanking the Lord for the favors which he has not ceased to bestow upon me. I submit myself to his holy will; my heart is always satisfied and calm."
The good old man has always been a subject of edification amid his tribe, universally loved and respected by all the nation. He is a man of the greatest simplicity and of very solid and fervent piety; nothing gives him greater pleasure than a conversation on holy things and on the great affair of salvation. You can never visit him without seeing the smile on his lips and without finding him at prayer, with his beads in his hands. He begins to say the rosary early in the morning; the first is offered to Mary to keep him in the holy grace of the Lord during the day; he recites the others either for the missionaries, for his family, for his tribe, or for some other intention. From the day of his baptism, he made it a duty to pray for me every day, and I feel the utmost gratitude to him.
Good Adolph, such is the name of Louise's husband, related to me among other things, that during his wife's life, when the village set out for the chase, or to get wild roots, and Louise went along with them, he felt very lonesome. When he saw Louise about to die, he told her: "If you die, it will be impossible for me to stay here; I shall find the time so long, I will go back to my own land." "Take care not to do so." returned Louise; "be very careful not to do so, Adolph! Do not remove from the house of the Lord (the church). As I die here, I wish you to remain here till you die. You will not be lonesome." Adolph remains faithful to his wife's recommendation. His cabin is beside the church, and although alone the greater part of the time since the death of Louise, he has not felt the time tedious for a single moment. His beads and prayer are his greatest consolation, and his only delight.
On my recent visit to the Coeur-d'Alenes, I again questioned the Indians, in order to obtain new details as to the life of Louise Sighouin. The answer was this: "After so many years it is difficult to add any thing to these extraordinary facts, so well known by all, except that from the time of her baptism, her life was an act of continual charity." And I can say, and all that read this narrative will agree with me, that there is no exaggeration in this summary remark. It was a devotedness of every day and every hour, a chain of links of little details of mercy, which offer nothing very striking, unless it be that untiring constancy, which for more than ten years, was always prompt night and day in exercising all works of charity, corporal and spiritual. No one will better appreciate this martyrdom of detail than those who are themselves devoted to it; and if we consider that Louise was poor, infirm, that she could only half understand the missionaries, who as yet only stammered the language of the Indians, no one will call in doubt the many graces which Louise received, and the immense profit she derived from the lessons of her Divine Master. God had raised up Louise to be the assistant of the apostolic men in the outset of their labors, when they did not understand the language. It had been the same at the mission of St. Ignatius. The Almighty had given the missionaries the chief Loyola to do among the Kalispels what Louise has done among the Coeur-d'Alenes. Both were poor and infirm; it was a lively faith which animated their zeal; both devoted themselves to their last sigh, and both were bitterly deplored after their death. Loyola displayed invincible firmness. "As long as I have a breath of life, my people must walk uprightly," said he; and his virtue alone gave him the authority to speak so. Louise on the contrary had no support in her zeal except her admirable meekness, her unwearied patience. Both died about the same time, when the missionaries began to be generally understood by the Indians.
I have all these circumstances from the missionaries on the spot, especially from the reverend and worthy Father Gazzoli, I nephew of the cardinal of that name who died in 1858. This Father is at this moment Superior of the Mission of the Sacred Heart among the Skizoumish or Coeur-d'Alenes.
In one of my letters written ten years ago, June 4, 1849, I said: "This extraordinary attention of the Indians, and this avidity on their part for the word of God, must seem surprising in a people who appear to combine all moral and intellectual miseries. But the spirit of the Lord breathes where it pleases him, his graces and his light prompt and aid men whom ignorance, rather than a perverse or disorderly will, has rendered evil. And that same spirit which obliged the most rebellious to cry out with St. Paul: `Lord! what wilt thou have me to do?' can often soften the fiercest hearts, inflame the coldest, produce peace, justice, and joy, where iniquity, trouble, and disorder reigned. The great respect and attention which the poor Indians show on all occasions to the missionary who comes to announce to them the word of God, are a source of great consolation and encouragement. He finds the finger of God in the spontaneous manifestations of these unhappy men." Since the Gospel has been announced to the tribes of the Rocky Mountains, the Lord has always had his chosen souls among them. In the different missions, many neophytes are distinguished by a zeal and piety truly worthy of the primitive Christians, by a rare assiduity at all religious exercises, by the faithful accomplishment of all the duties of a good Christian, in a word, by all the virtues which we have just seen in their highest form in Louise Sighouin.