11109 (#325) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11109
THE BATTLE OF THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM
Re-
From Montcalm and Wolfe.
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11109
THE BATTLE OF THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM
Re-
From Montcalm and Wolfe.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v19 - Oli to Phi
Conscious of their own deeds, perpetrated on this
very spot, they could hope no mercy, and their terror multiplied
immeasurably the numbers of their enemy. They abandoned.
the fort in a body, and fled into the woods most remote from
the French. But here a deadlier foe awaited them; for a host of
Indians leaped up from ambush. Then rose those hideous war-
cries which have curdled the boldest blood and blanched the man-
liest cheek. The forest warriors, with savage ecstasy, wreaked
their long arrears of vengeance, while the French hastened to
the spot, and lent their swords to the slaughter. A few prison-
were saved alive; the rest were slain: and thus did the
ers
## p. 11100 (#316) ##########################################
IIIOO
FRANCIS PARKMAN
Spaniards make bloody atonement for the butchery of Fort Caro-
line.
But Gourgues's vengeance was not yet appeased. Hard by
the fort, the trees were pointed out to him on which Menendez
had hanged his captives, and placed over them the inscription,
"Not as to Frenchmen, but as to Lutherans. "
Gourgues ordered the Spanish prisoners to be led thither.
"Did you think," he sternly said, as the pallid wretches
stood ranged before him, "that so vile a treachery, so detestable
a cruelty, against a King so potent and a nation so generous,
would go unpunished? I, one of the humblest gentlemen among
my King's subjects, have charged myself with avenging it. Even
if the Most Christian and the Most Catholic Kings had been ene-
mies, at deadly war, such perfidy and extreme cruelty would still
have been unpardonable. Now that they are friends and close
allies, there is no name vile enough to brand your deeds, no pun-
ishment sharp enough to requite them. But though you cannot
suffer as you deserve, you shall suffer all that an enemy can
honorably inflict, that your example may teach others to observe
the peace and alliance which you have so perfidiously violated. "
They were hanged where the French had hung before them;
and over them was nailed the inscription, burned with a hot iron
on a tablet of pine, "Not as to Spaniards, but as to Traitors,
Robbers, and Murderers. "
Gourgues's mission was fulfilled. To occupy the country had
never been his intention; nor was it possible, for the Spaniards
were still in force at St. Augustine. His was a whirlwind visi-
tation, to ravage, ruin, and vanish. He harangued the Indians,
and exhorted them to demolish the fort. They fell to the work
with eagerness, and in less than a day not one stone was left on
another.
Gourgues returned to the forts at the mouth of the river, de-
stroyed them also, and took up his march for his ships. It was
a triumphal procession. The Indians thronged around the victors
with gifts of fish and game; and an old woman declared that she
was now ready to die, since she had seen the French once more.
The ships were ready for sea. Gourgues bade his disconsolate
allies farewell, and nothing would content them but a promise to
return soon. Before embarking, he addressed his own men:-
"My friends, let us give thanks to God for the success he
has granted us. It is he who saved us from tempests; it is he
## p. 11101 (#317) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
IIIOI
who inclined the hearts of the Indians towards us; it is he who
blinded the understanding of the Spaniards. They were four to
one, in forts well armed and provisioned. Our right was our
only strength; and yet we have conquered. Not to our own
swords, but to God only, we owe our victory. Then let us thank
him, my friends; let us never forget his favors; and let us pray
that he may continue them, saving us from dangers, and guiding
us safely home. Let us pray too that he may so dispose the
hearts of men that our perils and toils may find favor in the
eyes of our King and of all France, since all we have done was
done for the King's service and for the honor of our country. "
Thus Spaniards and Frenchmen alike laid their reeking swords
on God's altar.
Gourgues sailed on the third of May, and gazing back along
their foaming wake, the adventurers looked their last on the
scene of their exploits. Their success had cost its price. A
few of their number had fallen, and hardships still awaited the
survivors. Gourgues, however, reached Rochelle on the day of
Pentecost, and the Huguenot citizens greeted him with all honor.
At court it fared worse with him. The King, still obsequious to
Spain, looked on him coldly and askance. The Spanish minister
demanded his head. It was hinted to him that he was not safe,
and he withdrew to Rouen, where he found asylum among his
friends. His fortune was gone; debts contracted for his expedi-
tion weighed heavily on him; and for years he lived in obscurity,
almost in misery.
At length his prospects brightened. Elizabeth of England
learned his merits and his misfortunes, and invited him to enter
her service. The King, who, says the Jesuit historian, had always
at heart been delighted with his achievement, openly restored
him to favor; while, some years later, Don Antonio tendered him
command of his fleet, to defend his right to the crown of Por-
tugal against Philip the Second. Gourgues, happy once more to
cross swords with the Spaniards, gladly embraced this offer; but
in 1583, on his way to join the Portuguese prince, he died at
Tours of a sudden illness. The French mourned the loss of
the man who had wiped a blot from the national scutcheon, and
respected his memory as that of one of the best captains of his
time. And in truth, if a zealous patriotism, a fiery valor, and
skillful leadership are worthy of honor, then is such a tribute.
due to Dominique de Gourgues, slave-catcher and half pirate as
he was, like other naval heroes of that wild age.
## p. 11102 (#318) ##########################################
III02
FRANCIS PARKMAN
Romantic as was his exploit, it lacked the fullness of poetic
justice, since the chief offender escaped him. While Gourgues
was sailing towards Florida, Menendez was in Spain, high in
favor at court, where he told to approving ears how he had
butchered the heretics. Borgia, the sainted general of the Jesu-
its, was his fast friend; and two years later, when he returned
to America, the Pope, Paul the Fifth, regarding him as an
instrument for the conversion of the Indians, wrote him a letter
with his benediction. He re-established his power in Florida,
rebuilt Fort San Mateo, and taught the Indians that death or
flight was the only refuge from Spanish tyranny. They mur-
dered his missionaries and spurned their doctrine. "The Devil
is the best thing in the world," they cried; "we adore him: he
makes men brave. " Even the Jesuits despaired, and abandoned
Florida in disgust.
Menendez was summoned home, where fresh honors awaited
him from the Crown; though, according to the somewhat doubt-
ful assertion of the heretical Grotius, his deeds had left a stain
upon his name among the people. He was given command of
the Armada of three hundred sail and twenty thousand men
which in 1574 was gathered at Santander against England and
Flanders. But now, at the height of his fortunes, his career was
abruptly closed. He died suddenly, at the age of fifty-five. Gro-
tius affirms that he killed himself; but in his eagerness to point
the moral of his story, he seems to have overstepped the bounds
of historic truth. The Spanish bigot was rarely a suicide; for
the rites of Christian burial and repose in consecrated ground
were denied to the remains of the self-murderer. There is posi-
tive evidence, too, in a codicil to the will of Menendez, dated
at Santander on the fifteenth of September, 1574, that he was
on that day seriously ill, though, as the instrument declares, “of
sound mind. " There is reason, then, to believe that this pious
cut-throat died a natural death, crowned with honors, and soothed
by the consolations of his religion.
It was he who crushed French Protestantism in America. To
plant religious freedom on this western soil was not the mission
of France. It was for her to rear in northern forests the banner
of absolutism and of Rome; while among the rocks of Massachu-
setts, England and Calvin fronted her in dogged opposition.
## p. 11103 (#319) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11103
FATHER BRÉBEUF AND HIS ASSOCIATES IN THE HURON
MISSION
From The Jesuits in North America in the Seventeenth Century. ' Copy-
right 1867, by Francis Parkman; 1895, by Grace P. Coffin and Katharine
S. Coolidge. Reprinted by permission of the Parkman Estate, and of
Little, Brown & Co. , publishers.
WHER
HERE should the Fathers make their abode? Their first
thought had been to establish themselves at a place
called by the French Rochelle, the largest and most
important town of the Huron confederacy; but Brébeuf now
resolved to remain at Ihonatiria. Here he was well known;
and here too, he flattered himself, seeds of the Faith had been
planted which with good nurture would in time yield fruit.
By the ancient Huron custom, when a man or a family
wanted a house, the whole village joined in building one.
In
the present case, not Ihonatiria only, but the neighboring town.
of Wenrio also, took part in the work,- though not without the
expectation of such gifts as the priests had to bestow. Before
October the task was finished. The house was constructed after
the Huron model. It was thirty-six feet long and about twenty
feet wide, framed with strong sapling poles planted in the earth
to form the sides, with the ends bent into an arch for the roof,—
the whole lashed firmly together, braced with cross-poles, and
closely covered with overlapping sheets of bark. Without, the
structure was strictly Indian; but within, the priests, with the
aid of their tools, made innovations which were the astonishment
of all the country. They divided their dwelling by transverse
partitions into three apartments, each with its wooden door,— a
wondrous novelty in the eyes of their visitors. The first served
as a hall, an ante-room, and a place of storage for corn, beans,
and dried fish. The second- the largest of the three-was at
once kitchen, workshop, dining-room, drawing-room, school-room,
and bed-chamber. The third was the chapel. Here they made.
their altar, and here were their images, pictures, and sacred ves-
sels. Their fire was on the ground, in the middle of the second
apartment, the smoke escaping by a hole in the roof. At the
sides were placed two wide platforms, after the Huron fashion,
four feet from the earthen floor. On these were chests in which
they kept their clothing and vestments, and beneath them they
slept, reclining on sheets of bark, and covered with skins and the
## p. 11104 (#320) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11104
garments they wore by day. Rude stools, a hand-mill, a large
Indian mortar of wood for crushing corn, and a clock, completed
the furniture of the room.
There was no lack of visitors, for the house of the black-
robes contained marvels the fame of which was noised abroad to
the uttermost confines of the Huron nation. Chief among them
was the clock. The guests would sit in expectant silence by the
hour, squatted on the ground, waiting to hear it strike. They
thought it was alive, and asked what it ate. As the last stroke
sounded, one of the Frenchmen would cry "Stop! "-and to the
admiration of the company, the obedient clock was silent. The
mill was another wonder, and they were never tired of turning
it. Besides these, there was a prism and a magnet; also a mag-
nifying glass wherein a flea was transformed to a frightful mon-
ster, and a multiplying lens which showed them the same object
eleven times repeated. "All this," says Brébeuf, "serves to gain
their affection, and make them more docile in respect to the
admirable and incomprehensible mysteries of our Faith; for the
opinion they have of our genius and capacity makes them believe
whatever we tell them. "
"What does the Captain say? " was the frequent question; for
by this title of honor they designated the clock.
"When he strikes twelve times, he says, 'Hang on the ket-
tle;' and when he strikes four times, he says, 'Get up and go
home.
> >>
Both interpretations were well remembered. At noon, visitors
were never wanting, to share the fathers' sagamite; but at the
stroke of four, all rose and departed, leaving the missionaries for
a time in peace. Now the door was barred; and gathering around
the fire, they discussed the prospects of the mission, compared
their several experiences, and took counsel for the future. But
the standing topic of their evening talk was the Huron language.
Concerning this each had some new discovery to relate, some
new suggestion to offer; and in the task of analyzing its construc-
tion and deducing its hidden laws, these intelligent and highly
cultivated minds found a congenial employment.
But while zealously laboring to perfect their knowledge of the
language, they spared no pains to turn their present acquirements
to account. Was man, woman, or child sick or suffering, they
were always at hand with assistance and relief,— adding, as they
saw opportunity, explanations of Christian doctrine, pictures of
## p. 11105 (#321) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11105
heaven and hell, and exhortations to embrace the Faith. Their
friendly offices did not cease here, but included matters widely
different. The Hurons lived in constant fear of the Iroquois.
At times the whole village population would fly to the woods for
concealment, or take refuge in one of the neighboring fortified.
towns, on the rumor of an approaching war-party. The Jesuits
promised them the aid of the four Frenchmen armed with arque-
buses, who had come with them from Three Rivers. They ad-
vised the Hurons to make their palisade forts, not as hitherto in
a circular form, but rectangular, with small flanking towers at the
corners for the arquebuse-men. The Indians at once saw the
value of the advice, and soon after began to act on it in the case
of their great town of Ossossané, or Rochelle.
At every opportunity, the missionaries gathered together the
children of the village at their house. On these occasions, Bré-
beuf, for greater solemnity, put on a surplice, and the close
angular cap worn by Jesuits in their convents. First he chanted
the Pater Noster, translated by Father Daniel into Huron rhymes,
-the children chanting in their turn. Next he taught them the
sign of the cross; made them repeat the Ave, the Credo, and the
Commandments; questioned them as to past instructions; gave
them briefly a few new ones; and dismissed them with a present
of two or three beads, raisins, or prunes. A great emulation was
kindled among this small fry of heathendom. The priests, with
amusement and delight, saw them gathered in groups about the
village, vying with each other in making the sign of the cross, or
in repeating the rhymes they had learned.
At times the elders of the people, the repositories of its
ancient traditions, were induced to assemble at the house of the
Jesuits, who explained to them the principal points of their doc-
trine, and invited them to a discussion. The auditors proved
pliant to a fault, responding "Good," or "That is true," to every
proposition; but when urged to adopt the faith which so readily
met their approval, they had always the same reply: "It is good
for the French; but we are another people, with different cus-
toms. " On one occasion, Brébeuf appeared before the chiefs and
elders at a solemn national council, described heaven and hell
with images suited to their comprehension, asked to which they
preferred to go after death, and then, in accordance with the
invariable Huron custom in affairs of importance, presented a
large and valuable belt of wampum, as an invitation to take the
path to Paradise.
XIX-695
"
## p. 11106 (#322) ##########################################
11106
FRANCIS PARKMAN
Notwithstanding all their exhortations, the Jesuits, for the
present, baptized but few. Indeed, during the first year or more,
they baptized no adults except those apparently at the point of
death; for, with excellent reason, they feared backsliding and
recantation. They found especial pleasure in the baptism of
dying infants, rescuing them from the flames of perdition, and
changing them, to borrow Le Jeune's phrase, "from little Indians.
into little angels. "
The fathers' slumbers were brief and broken. Winter was
the season of Huron festivity; and as they lay stretched on their
hard couch, suffocating with smoke and tormented by an inevita-
ble multitude of fleas, the thumping of the drum resounded all
night long from a neighboring house, mingled with the sound of
the tortoise-shell rattle, the stamping of moccasined feet, and the
cadence of voices keeping time with the dancers. Again, some
ambitious villager would give a feast, and invite all the warriors.
of the neighboring towns; or some grand wager of gambling,
with its attendant drumming, singing, and outcries, filled the
night with discord.
But these were light annoyances compared with the insane
rites to cure the sick, prescribed by the "medicine-men," or
ordained by the eccentric inspiration of dreams. In one case, a
young sorcerer, by alternate gorging and fasting,- both in the
interest of his profession,- joined with excessive exertion in
singing to the spirits, contracted a disorder of the brain, which
caused him in midwinter to run naked about the village, howl-
ing like a wolf. The whole population bestirred itself to effect a
cure. The patient had, or pretended to have, a dream, in which
the conditions of his recovery were revealed to him. These were
equally ridiculous and difficult; but the elders met in council, and
all the villagers lent their aid, till every requisition was fulfilled,
and the incongruous mass of gifts which the madman's dream
had demanded were all bestowed upon him. This cure failing,
a
"medicine-feast" was tried; then several dances in succession.
As the patient remained as crazy as before, preparations were
begun for a grand dance, more potent than all the rest. Bré-
beuf says that except the masquerades of the Carnival among
Christians, he never saw a folly equal to it. "Some," he adds,
"had sacks over their heads, with two holes for the eyes. Sonne
were as naked as your hand, with horns or feathers on their
heads, their bodies painted white, and their faces black as devills.
Others were daubed with red, black, and white. In short, every
## p. 11107 (#323) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11107
>>>
one decked himself as extravagantly as he could, to dance in this
ballet, and contribute something towards the health of the sick
man. This remedy also failing, a crowning effort of the medi-
cal art was essayed. Brébeuf does not describe it,-for fear, as
he says, of being tedious; but for the time, the village was a
pandemonium. This, with other ceremonies, was supposed to be
ordered by a certain image like a doll, which a sorcerer placed
in his tobacco-pouch, whence it uttered its oracles, at the same
time moving as if alive. "Truly," writes Brébeuf, "here is non-
sense enough; but I greatly fear there is something more dark
and mysterious in it. "
But all these ceremonies were outdone by the grand festival
of the Ononhara, or Dream Feast,-esteemed the most powerful
remedy in cases of sickness, or when a village was infested with
evil spirits. The time and manner of holding it were determined
at a solemn council. This scene of madness began at night. Men,
women, and children, all pretending to have lost their senses,
rushed shrieking and howling from house to house, upsetting
everything in their way, throwing fire-brands, beating those they
met or drenching them with water, and availing themselves of
this time of license to take a safe revenge on any who had ever
offended them. This scene of frenzy continued till daybreak.
No corner of the village was secure from the maniac crew. In
the morning there was a change. They ran from house to house,
accosting the inmates by name, and demanding of each the satis-
faction of some secret want, revealed to the pretended madman
in a dream, but of the nature of which he gave no hint what-
ever. The person addressed thereupon threw to him at random
any article at hand, as a hatchet, a kettle, or a pipe; and the
applicant continued his rounds till the desired gift was hit upon,
when he gave an outcry of delight, echoed by gratulatory cries
from all present. If, after all his efforts, he failed in obtaining
the object of his dream, he fell into a deep dejection, convinced
that some disaster was in store for him.
The approach of summer brought with it a comparative peace.
Many of the villagers dispersed,- some to their fishing, some
to expeditions of trade, and some to distant lodges by their
detached cornfields. The priests availed themselves of the res-
pite to engage in those exercises of private devotion which the
rule of St. Ignatius enjoins. About midsummer, however, their
quiet was suddenly broken. The crops were withering under a
severe drought, a calamity which the sandy nature of the soil
## p. 11108 (#324) ##########################################
11108
FRANCIS PARKMAN
made doubly serious. The sorcerers put forth their utmost power,
and from the tops of the houses yelled incessant invocations to
the spirits. All was in vain: the pitiless sky was cloudless
There was thunder in the east and thunder in the west; but
over Ihonatiria all was serene. A renowned "rain-maker," see-
ing his reputation tottering under his repeated failures, bethought
him of accusing the Jesuits, and gave out that the red color
of the cross which stood before their house scared the bird of
thunder, and caused him to fly another way. On this a clamor
arose. The popular ire turned against the priests, and the ob-
noxious cross was condemned to be hewn down. Aghast at the
threatened sacrilege, they attempted to reason away the storm,
assuring the crowd that the lightning was not a bird, but certain
hot and fiery exhalations, which, being imprisoned, darted this
way and that, trying to escape. As this philosophy failed to con-
vince the hearers, the missionaries changed their line of defense.
"You say that the red color of the cross frightens the bird of
thunder. Then paint the cross white, and see if the thunder will
come. "
This was accordingly done; but the clouds still kept aloof.
The Jesuits followed up their advantage.
"Your spirits cannot help you, and your sorcerers have de-
ceived you with lies. Now ask the aid of Him who made the
world, and perhaps he will listen to your prayers. " And they
added that if the Indians would renounce their sins and obey
the true God, they would make a procession daily to implore
his favor towards them.
There was no want of promises. The processions were begun,
as were also nine masses to St. Joseph; and as heavy rains
occurred soon after, the Indians conceived a high idea of the
efficacy of the French "medicine. "
In spite of the hostility of the sorcerers, and the transient
commotion raised by the red cross, the Jesuits had gained the
confidence and good-will of the Huron population. Their patience,
their kindness, their intrepidity, their manifest disinterestedness,
the blamelessness of their lives, and the tact which, in the utmost
fervors of their zeal, never failed them, had won the hearts of
these wayward savages; and chiefs of distant villages came to
urge that they would make their abode with them. As yet, the
results of the mission had been faint and few; but the priests
toiled on courageously, high in hope that an abundant harvest of
souls would one day reward their labors.
## p.
11109 (#325) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11109
THE BATTLE OF THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM
Re-
From Montcalm and Wolfe. ' Copyright 1884, by Francis Parkman.
printed by permission of the Parkman Estate, and of Little, Brown
& Co. , publishers.
THE
HE day broke in clouds and threatening rain. Wolfe's bat-
talions were drawn up along the crest of the heights. No
enemy was in sight, though a body of Canadians had sallied
from the town and moved along the strand towards the landing-
place, whence they were quickly driven back. He had achieved
the most critical part of his enterprise; yet the success that he
coveted placed him in imminent danger. On one side was the
garrison of Quebec and the army of Beauport, and Bougainville
was on the other. Wolfe's alternative was victory or ruin; for if
he should be overwhelmed by a combined attack, retreat would
be hopeless. His feelings no man can know; but it would be
safe to say that hesitation or doubt had no part in them.
He went to reconnoitre the ground, and soon came to the
Plains of Abraham; so called from Abraham Martin, a pilot
known as Maître Abraham, who had owned a piece of land here
in the early times of the colony. The Plains were a tract of
grass, tolerably level in most parts, patched here and there with
cornfields, studded with clumps of bushes, and forming a part of
the high plateau at the eastern end of which Quebec stood. On
the south it was bounded by the declivities along the St. Law.
rence; on the north, by those along the St. Charles, or rather
along the meadows through which that lazy stream crawled like
a writhing snake. At the place that Wolfe chose for his battle-
field the plateau was less than a mile wide.
Montcalm had passed a troubled night. Through all the
evening the cannon bellowed from the ships of Saunders, and
the boats of the fleet hovered in the dusk off the Beauport
shore, threatening every moment to land. Troops lined the in-
trenchments till day, while the General walked the field that
adjoined his headquarters till one in the morning, accompanied
by the Chevalier Johnstone and Colonel Poulariez.
says that he was in great agitation, and took no rest all night.
At daybreak he heard the sound of cannon above the town.
It was the battery at Samos firing on the English ships. He
had sent an officer to the quarters of Vaudreuil, which were
much nearer Quebec, with orders to bring him word at once
Johnstone
•
## p. 11110 (#326) ##########################################
III10
FRANCIS PARKMAN
should anything unusual happen. But no word came, and about
six o'clock he mounted and rode thither with Johnstone. As
they advanced, the country behind the town opened more and
more upon their sight; till at length, when opposite Vaudreuil's
house, they saw across the St. Charles, some two miles away,
the red ranks of British soldiers on the heights beyond.
"This is a serious business," Montcalm said; and sent off
Johnstone at full gallop to bring up the troops from the centre
and left of the camp. Those of the right were in motion already,
doubtless by the governor's order. Vaudreuil came out of the
house. Montcalm stopped for a few words with him; then set
spurs to his horse, and rode over the bridge of the St. Charles
to the scene of danger. He rode with a fixed look, uttering not
a word.
The army followed in such order as it might, crossed the
bridge in hot haste, passed under the northern rampart of Que-
bec, entered at the Palace Gate, and pressed on in headlong
march along the quaint narrow streets of the warlike town:
troops of Indians in scalp-locks and war-paint, a savage glitter in
their deep-set eyes; bands of Canadians whose all was at stake,
faith, country, and home; the colony regulars; the battalions of
Old France, a torrent of white uniforms and gleaming bayonets,
-La Sarre, Languedoc, Roussillon, Béarn,-victors of Oswego,
William Henry, and Ticonderoga. So they swept on, poured out
upon the plain, some by the gate of St. Louis and some by that
of St. John, and hurried, breathless, to where the banners of
Guienne still fluttered on the ridge.
-
Montcalm was amazed at what he saw. He had expected a
detachment, and he found an army. Full in sight before him
stretched the lines of Wolfe: the close ranks of the English
infantry, a silent wall of red, and the wild array of the High-
landers, with their waving tartans, and bagpipes screaming defi-
ance. Vaudreuil had not come; but not the less was felt the
evil of a divided authority and the jealousy of the rival chiefs.
Montcalm waited long for the forces he had ordered to join
him from the left wing of the army. He waited in vain. It
is said that the governor had detained them, lest the English
should attack the Beauport shore. Even if they did so, and suc-
ceeded, the French might defy them, could they but put Wolfe
to rout on the Plains of Abraham. Neither did the garrison of
Quebec come to the aid of Montcalm.
He sent to Ramesay, its
## p. 11111 (#327) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
IIIII
•
commander, for twenty-five field-pieces which were on the Pal-
ace battery. Ramesay would give him only three, saying that
he wanted them for his own defense. There were orders and
counter-orders; misunderstanding, haste, delay, perplexity.
Montcalm and his chief officers held a council of war. It is
said that he and they alike were for immediate attack. His ene-
mies declare that he was afraid lest Vaudreuil should arrive
and take command; but the governor was not a man to assume
responsibility at such a crisis. Others say that his impetuosity
overcame his better judgment; and of this charge it is hard to
acquit him. Bougainville was but a few miles distant, and some
of his troops were much nearer; a messenger sent by way of Old
Lorette could have reached him in an hour and a half at most,
and a combined attack in front and rear might have been con-
certed with him. If, moreover, Montcalm could have come to an
understanding with Vaudreuil, his own force might have been
strengthened by two or three thousand additional men from the
town and the camp of Beauport; but he felt that there was no
time to lose: for he imagined that Wolfe would soon be rein-
forced - which was impossible; and he believed that the English
were fortifying themselves which was no less an error. He has
been blamed not only for fighting too soon, but for fighting at
all. In this he could not choose. Fight he must, for Wolfe was
now in a position to cut off all his supplies. His men were full
of ardor, and he resolved to attack before their ardor cooled. He
spoke a few words to them in his keen, vehement way. << I
remember very well how he looked," one of the Canadians, then
a boy of eighteen, used to say in his old age: "he rode a black
or dark-bay horse along the front of our lines, brandishing his
sword, as if to excite us to do our duty. He wore a coat with
wide sleeves, which fell back as he raised his arm, and showed
the white linen of the wristband. "
-
The English waited the result with a composure which if
not quite real, was at least well feigned. The three field-pieces
sent by Ramesay plied them with canister-shot, and fifteen hun-
dred Canadians and Indians fusilladed them in front and flank.
Over all the plain, from behind bushes and knolls and the edge
of cornfields, puffs of smoke sprang incessantly from the guns of
these hidden marksmen. Skirmishers were thrown out before the
lines to hold them in check, and the soldiers were ordered to lie
on the grass to avoid the shot. The firing was liveliest on the
## p. 11112 (#328) ##########################################
11112
FRANCIS PARKMAN
English left, where bands of sharpshooters got under the edge of
the declivity, among thickets, and behind scattered houses, whence
they killed and wounded a considerable number of Townshend's
men. The light infantry were called up from the rear. The
houses were taken and retaken, and one or more of them was
burned.
Wolfe was everywhere. How cool he was, and why his fol-
lowers loved him, is shown by an incident that happened in the
course of the morning. One of his captains was shot through
the lungs; and on recovering consciousness he saw the General
standing at his side. Wolfe pressed his hand, told him not to
despair, praised his services, promised him early promotion, and
sent an aide-de-camp to Monckton to beg that officer to keep the
promise if he himself should fall.
It was towards ten o'clock when, from the high ground on
the right of the line, Wolfe saw that the crisis was near. The
French on the ridge had formed themselves into three bodies,
regulars in the centre, regulars and Canadians on right and left.
Two field-pieces, which had been dragged up the heights at Anse
du Foulon, fired on them with grape-shot, and the troops, rising
from the ground, prepared to receive them. In a few moments
more they were in motion. They came on rapidly, uttering loud
shouts, and firing as soon as they were within range. Their
ranks, ill ordered at the best, were further confused by a number
of Canadians who had been mixed among the regulars, and who,
after hastily firing, threw themselves on the ground to reload.
The British advanced a few rods; then halted and stood still.
When the French were within forty paces the word of command
rang out, and a crash of musketry answered all along the line.
The volley was delivered with remarkable precision. In the bat-
talions of the centre, which had suffered least from the enemy's
bullets, the simultaneous explosion was afterwards said by French
officers to have sounded like a cannon-shot. Another volley fol-
lowed, and then a furious clattering fire that lasted but a minute.
or two. When the smoke rose, a miserable sight was revealed:
the ground cumbered with dead and wounded, the advancing
masses stopped short and turned into a frantic mob, shouting,
cursing, gesticulating.
The order was given to charge. Then
over the field rose the British cheer, mixed with the fierce yell
of the Highland slogan. Some of the corps pushed forward with
the bayonet; some advanced firing. The clansmen drew their
## p. 11113 (#329) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11113
He
broadswords and dashed on, keen and swift as bloodhounds. At
the English right, though the attacking column was broken to
pieces, a fire was still kept up, chiefly, it seems, by sharpshooters
from the bushes and cornfields, where they had lain for an hour
or more. Here Wolfe himself led the charge, at the head of the
Louisbourg grenadiers. A shot shattered his wrist. He wrapped
his handkerchief about it and kept on. Another shot struck him,
and he still advanced, when a third lodged in his breast.
staggered, and sat on the ground. Lieutenant Brown of the
grenadiers, one Henderson, a volunteer in the same company, and
a private soldier, aided by an officer of artillery who ran to join
them, carried him in their arms to the rear. He begged them to
lay him down. They did so, and asked if he would have a sur-
geon. There's no need," he answered: "it's all over with me. "
A moment after, one of them cried out, "They run; see how
they run! " "Who run? " Wolfe demanded, like a man roused
from sleep. The enemy, sir. Egad, they give way everywhere! "
"Go, one of you, to Colonel Burton," returned the dying man;
"tell him to march Webb's regiment down to Charles River, to
cut off their retreat from the bridge. " Then, turning on his
side, he murmured, "Now, God be praised, I will die in peace! "
and in a few moments his gallant soul had fled.
«<
«<
Montcalm, still on horseback, was borne with the tide of fugi-
tives towards the town. As he approached the walls a shot
passed through his body. He kept his seat; two soldiers sup-
ported him, one on each side, and led his horse through the
St. Louis Gate. On the open space within, among the excited
crowd, were several women, drawn, no doubt, by eagerness to
know the result of the fight. One of them recognized him,
saw the streaming blood, and shrieked, "O mon Dieu! mon Dieu!
Le Marquise est tué! " "It's nothing, it's nothing," replied the
death-stricken man: "don't be troubled for me, my good friends. "
("Ce n'est rien, ce n'est rien: ne vous affligez pas pour moi, mes
bonnes amies. ")
## p. 11114 (#330) ##########################################
11114
PARMENIDES
(520? -450? B. C. )
Sear
ARMENIDES, son of Pyrrhes, and the most famous of the Eleatic
philosophers, was born at Elea, in Southern Italy, about 520
B. C. Of his personal history little is known: merely that
he took an active part in the politics of his native city, drawing up
for it a code of laws to which the Eleans every year swore to con-
form; and that late in life, about 454 B. C. , he made a visit to Athens
in company with his pupil Zeno, and there made the acquaintance
of Socrates, then a very young man (see Plato, 'Parmenides,' 127,
A, B; 'Sophist,' 217, C; 'Theætetus, 183, E). He seems to have been
acquainted with the thought of the Ionian philosophers, especially
of Anaximander and Heraclitus, but to have been more deeply in-
fluenced by Pythagoras and Xenophanes. He numbered among his
friends Empedocles and Leucippus, and taught Melissus and Zeno.
His only written work was a poem 'On Nature,' of which consider-
able fragments remain. These have several times been collected.
The best editions of them are those by Karsten (1835), and by Stein
in 'Symbola Philologorum Bonnensium' (1864-7), pages 763-806. There
is a complete English translation of them in hexameters by Thomas
Davidson in Vol. iv. of the Journal of Speculative Philosophy, pages
1-16.
With the exception of Heraclitus, Parmenides is the greatest of
the pre-Socratic Greek thinkers. His importance consists chiefly in
the fact that he was the first person to distinguish between the Ideal
and the Real; between Being, eternal, unchangeable, and the subject
of science, and Becoming, transient, changeable, and mere matter of
opinion. Being he identifies with thought; and Becoming with sensa-
tion. He is thus the prime author of that dualism which runs through
all subsequent Greek thinking, and which logically leads to asceticism.
in life and absolutism in politics. The resemblance of his philosophy
to certain Hindu systems has induced some writers-e. g. , Gladisch
in his 'Die Eleaten und die Indier' (Posen, 1844)—to connect it with
these; but it is in fact due to a combination of the Pythagorean
principle of number with the Ionic notion of process. It led the way
to the universal subjectivism of the Sophists.
## p. 11115 (#331) ##########################################
PARMENIDES
INTRODUCTION OF THE POEM ON NATURE
11115
SOON
SOON as the coursers that bear me and draw me as far as extend-
eth
Impulse, guided and threw me aloft in the glorious pathway,
Up to the goddess that guideth through all things man that is con-
scious,
There was I carried along, for there did the coursers sagacious,
Drawing the chariot, bear me, and virgins preceded to guide them-
Daughters of Helios, leaving behind them the mansions of darkness —
Into the light, with their strong hands forcing asunder the night-
shrouds,
While in its sockets the axle emitted the sound of a syrinx,
Glowing, for still it was urged by a couple of wheels well-rounded,
One upon this side, one upon that, when it hastened its motion.
There were the gates of the paths of the Night and the paths of the
Day-time.
Under the gates is a threshold of stone, and above is a lintel.
These too are closed in the ether with great doors guarded by Just-
ice-
Justice the mighty avenger, that keepeth the keys of requital.
Her did the virgins address, and with soft words deftly persuaded,
Swiftly for them to withdraw from the gates the bolts and its fast-
ener.
Opening wide, they uncovered the yawning expanse of the portal,
Backward rolling successive the hinges of brass their sockets,-
Hinges constructed with nails and with clasps; then onward the vir-
gins
Straightway guided their steeds and their chariot over the highway.
Then did the goddess receive me with gladness, and taking my right
hand
Into her own, thus uttered a word and kindly bespake me:-
"Youth that art mated with charioteers and companions immortal,
Coming to us on the coursers that bear thee, to visit our mansion,
Hail! for it is not an evil Award that hath guided thee hither
Into this path,— for, I ween, it is far from the pathway of mortals,-
Nay, it is Justice and Right. Thou needs must have knowledge of
all things:
First of the Truth's unwavering heart that is fraught with conviction,
Then of the notions of mortals, where no true conviction abideth;
But thou shalt surely be taught this too,- that every opinion
Needs must pass through the ALL, and vanquish the test with approval. "
Translation of Thomas Davidson.
## p. 11116 (#332) ##########################################
11116
PARMENIDES
THOUGHT AND EXISTENCE
ONE
NE and the same are thought and that whereby there is think-
ing;
Never apart from existence, wherein it receiveth expression,
Shalt thou discover the action of thinking; for naught is or shall be
Other besides or beyond the Existent; for Fate hath determined
That to be lonely and moveless, which all things are but a name
for,-
Things that men have set up for themselves, believing as real,-
Birth and decay, becoming and ceasing, to be and to not-be,
Movement from place to place, and change from color to color.
But since the uttermost limit of Being is ended and perfect,
Then it is like to the bulk of a sphere well rounded on all sides,
Everywhere distant alike from the centre: for never there can be
Anything greater or anything less, on this side or that side;
Yea, there is neither a non-existent to bar it from coming
Into equality, neither can Being be different from Being,
More of it here, less there, for the All is inviolate ever.
Therefore, I ween, it lies equally stretched in its limits on all sides.
Translation of Thomas Davidson.
KOSMOS
TH
HEN thou shalt know the ethereal nature and each of its tokens
Each of the signs in the ether, and all the invisible workings
Wrought by the blemishless sun's pure lamp, and whence they
have risen;
Then thou shalt hear of the orb-eyed moon's circumambient work-
ings,
And of her nature, and likewise discern the heaven that surrounds
them,
Whence it arose, and how by her sway Necessity bound it
Firm, to encircle the bounds of the stars.
Translation of Thomas Davidson.
[These three passages are reprinted by permission from the Journal of
Speculative Philosophy, Vol. iv. ]
## p. 11117 (#333) ##########################################
11117
-
THOMAS WILLIAM PARSONS
(1819-1892)
HE poetry of Thomas W. Parsons has in its best examples a
classic perfection conjoined with a deep feeling, which gives
it distinction. He was a scholar who worked with a cer-
tain austerity and aloofness, yet with an underlying perception of
humor which saved his work from flatness or turgidity even when it
did not appear on the surface. Dr. Parsons was thoroughly impreg-
nated with Dante and the influence of Italian literature. Literature
indeed, in this aspect of it, was to him a vocation and a passion.
He served the Muse with a full sense of the sacredness of song.
He was born in Boston, August 18th, 1819; was the son of a physi-
cian of that city, and was destined for the same profession,— taking
a degree at the Harvard Medical School, and for some time prac-
ticing dentistry. Boston was his home when he was in the United
States; but he traveled and resided much abroad. In his leisure
hours he wrote his verses and worked on his English renderings of
the master poet of Italy. So early as 1843 he published a translation
of the first ten cantos of the 'Inferno,' and a revision with seven
more cantos followed in 1867. He made a version of the great epic
a life labor, the translation in its final form appearing in 1893.
(
Dr. Parsons was never eager for publication, and some of his vol-
umes of verse were printed privately for circulation among friends.
Several collections of his poems were published: one entitled 'Ghetto
di Roma' in 1854, The Magnolia' in 1867, The Shadow of the Obe-
lisk' in 1872, Circum Præcorda' in 1892; and a final selection in
1893, after his death. This last book contains-excepting his trans-
lation of Dante- the bulk of the work his admirers would wish to
see preserved. There are lyrics in this volume as perfect in their
kind as anything done by a contemporaneous poet.
The opening
poem, On a Bust of Dante,' is as noble a tribute as the Italian has
received in our tongue. Many lines and passages in the different
lyrics have a quotableness which means fine thought married to fit
expression. In the tribute to Daniel Webster, for example, occurs the
stanza:
"Kings have their dynasties, but not the mind:
Cæsars leave other Cæsars to succeed;
But Wisdom dying, leaves no heir behind. "
## p. 11118 (#334) ##########################################
11118
THOMAS WILLIAM PARSONS
And the poem closes with these lovely words:-
"We have no high cathedral for his rest,
Dim with proud banners and the dust of years;
All we can give him is New England's breast
To lay his head on- and his country's tears. "
There is something inevitable in the perfection of this, from 'The
Birthday of Robert Burns': —
"For flowers will grow, and showers will fall,
And clouds will travel o'er the sky;
And the great God who cares for all,
He will not let his darlings die. "
The man who can strike out things like these - and he wrote
whole poems which keep this level-deserves, and doubtless will get,
permanent recognition as a lyric singer. Parsons's range is not wide,
nor is his accomplishment varied. But in his individual way and
within his compass, he struck a very pure, fine note, which will give
lasting pleasure.
Dr. Parsons died at Scituate, Massachusetts, September 3d, 1892.
[The following selections are all made from the 'Poems of Thomas William
Parsons. Copyright 1893, by Houghton, Mifflin & Co.
very spot, they could hope no mercy, and their terror multiplied
immeasurably the numbers of their enemy. They abandoned.
the fort in a body, and fled into the woods most remote from
the French. But here a deadlier foe awaited them; for a host of
Indians leaped up from ambush. Then rose those hideous war-
cries which have curdled the boldest blood and blanched the man-
liest cheek. The forest warriors, with savage ecstasy, wreaked
their long arrears of vengeance, while the French hastened to
the spot, and lent their swords to the slaughter. A few prison-
were saved alive; the rest were slain: and thus did the
ers
## p. 11100 (#316) ##########################################
IIIOO
FRANCIS PARKMAN
Spaniards make bloody atonement for the butchery of Fort Caro-
line.
But Gourgues's vengeance was not yet appeased. Hard by
the fort, the trees were pointed out to him on which Menendez
had hanged his captives, and placed over them the inscription,
"Not as to Frenchmen, but as to Lutherans. "
Gourgues ordered the Spanish prisoners to be led thither.
"Did you think," he sternly said, as the pallid wretches
stood ranged before him, "that so vile a treachery, so detestable
a cruelty, against a King so potent and a nation so generous,
would go unpunished? I, one of the humblest gentlemen among
my King's subjects, have charged myself with avenging it. Even
if the Most Christian and the Most Catholic Kings had been ene-
mies, at deadly war, such perfidy and extreme cruelty would still
have been unpardonable. Now that they are friends and close
allies, there is no name vile enough to brand your deeds, no pun-
ishment sharp enough to requite them. But though you cannot
suffer as you deserve, you shall suffer all that an enemy can
honorably inflict, that your example may teach others to observe
the peace and alliance which you have so perfidiously violated. "
They were hanged where the French had hung before them;
and over them was nailed the inscription, burned with a hot iron
on a tablet of pine, "Not as to Spaniards, but as to Traitors,
Robbers, and Murderers. "
Gourgues's mission was fulfilled. To occupy the country had
never been his intention; nor was it possible, for the Spaniards
were still in force at St. Augustine. His was a whirlwind visi-
tation, to ravage, ruin, and vanish. He harangued the Indians,
and exhorted them to demolish the fort. They fell to the work
with eagerness, and in less than a day not one stone was left on
another.
Gourgues returned to the forts at the mouth of the river, de-
stroyed them also, and took up his march for his ships. It was
a triumphal procession. The Indians thronged around the victors
with gifts of fish and game; and an old woman declared that she
was now ready to die, since she had seen the French once more.
The ships were ready for sea. Gourgues bade his disconsolate
allies farewell, and nothing would content them but a promise to
return soon. Before embarking, he addressed his own men:-
"My friends, let us give thanks to God for the success he
has granted us. It is he who saved us from tempests; it is he
## p. 11101 (#317) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
IIIOI
who inclined the hearts of the Indians towards us; it is he who
blinded the understanding of the Spaniards. They were four to
one, in forts well armed and provisioned. Our right was our
only strength; and yet we have conquered. Not to our own
swords, but to God only, we owe our victory. Then let us thank
him, my friends; let us never forget his favors; and let us pray
that he may continue them, saving us from dangers, and guiding
us safely home. Let us pray too that he may so dispose the
hearts of men that our perils and toils may find favor in the
eyes of our King and of all France, since all we have done was
done for the King's service and for the honor of our country. "
Thus Spaniards and Frenchmen alike laid their reeking swords
on God's altar.
Gourgues sailed on the third of May, and gazing back along
their foaming wake, the adventurers looked their last on the
scene of their exploits. Their success had cost its price. A
few of their number had fallen, and hardships still awaited the
survivors. Gourgues, however, reached Rochelle on the day of
Pentecost, and the Huguenot citizens greeted him with all honor.
At court it fared worse with him. The King, still obsequious to
Spain, looked on him coldly and askance. The Spanish minister
demanded his head. It was hinted to him that he was not safe,
and he withdrew to Rouen, where he found asylum among his
friends. His fortune was gone; debts contracted for his expedi-
tion weighed heavily on him; and for years he lived in obscurity,
almost in misery.
At length his prospects brightened. Elizabeth of England
learned his merits and his misfortunes, and invited him to enter
her service. The King, who, says the Jesuit historian, had always
at heart been delighted with his achievement, openly restored
him to favor; while, some years later, Don Antonio tendered him
command of his fleet, to defend his right to the crown of Por-
tugal against Philip the Second. Gourgues, happy once more to
cross swords with the Spaniards, gladly embraced this offer; but
in 1583, on his way to join the Portuguese prince, he died at
Tours of a sudden illness. The French mourned the loss of
the man who had wiped a blot from the national scutcheon, and
respected his memory as that of one of the best captains of his
time. And in truth, if a zealous patriotism, a fiery valor, and
skillful leadership are worthy of honor, then is such a tribute.
due to Dominique de Gourgues, slave-catcher and half pirate as
he was, like other naval heroes of that wild age.
## p. 11102 (#318) ##########################################
III02
FRANCIS PARKMAN
Romantic as was his exploit, it lacked the fullness of poetic
justice, since the chief offender escaped him. While Gourgues
was sailing towards Florida, Menendez was in Spain, high in
favor at court, where he told to approving ears how he had
butchered the heretics. Borgia, the sainted general of the Jesu-
its, was his fast friend; and two years later, when he returned
to America, the Pope, Paul the Fifth, regarding him as an
instrument for the conversion of the Indians, wrote him a letter
with his benediction. He re-established his power in Florida,
rebuilt Fort San Mateo, and taught the Indians that death or
flight was the only refuge from Spanish tyranny. They mur-
dered his missionaries and spurned their doctrine. "The Devil
is the best thing in the world," they cried; "we adore him: he
makes men brave. " Even the Jesuits despaired, and abandoned
Florida in disgust.
Menendez was summoned home, where fresh honors awaited
him from the Crown; though, according to the somewhat doubt-
ful assertion of the heretical Grotius, his deeds had left a stain
upon his name among the people. He was given command of
the Armada of three hundred sail and twenty thousand men
which in 1574 was gathered at Santander against England and
Flanders. But now, at the height of his fortunes, his career was
abruptly closed. He died suddenly, at the age of fifty-five. Gro-
tius affirms that he killed himself; but in his eagerness to point
the moral of his story, he seems to have overstepped the bounds
of historic truth. The Spanish bigot was rarely a suicide; for
the rites of Christian burial and repose in consecrated ground
were denied to the remains of the self-murderer. There is posi-
tive evidence, too, in a codicil to the will of Menendez, dated
at Santander on the fifteenth of September, 1574, that he was
on that day seriously ill, though, as the instrument declares, “of
sound mind. " There is reason, then, to believe that this pious
cut-throat died a natural death, crowned with honors, and soothed
by the consolations of his religion.
It was he who crushed French Protestantism in America. To
plant religious freedom on this western soil was not the mission
of France. It was for her to rear in northern forests the banner
of absolutism and of Rome; while among the rocks of Massachu-
setts, England and Calvin fronted her in dogged opposition.
## p. 11103 (#319) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11103
FATHER BRÉBEUF AND HIS ASSOCIATES IN THE HURON
MISSION
From The Jesuits in North America in the Seventeenth Century. ' Copy-
right 1867, by Francis Parkman; 1895, by Grace P. Coffin and Katharine
S. Coolidge. Reprinted by permission of the Parkman Estate, and of
Little, Brown & Co. , publishers.
WHER
HERE should the Fathers make their abode? Their first
thought had been to establish themselves at a place
called by the French Rochelle, the largest and most
important town of the Huron confederacy; but Brébeuf now
resolved to remain at Ihonatiria. Here he was well known;
and here too, he flattered himself, seeds of the Faith had been
planted which with good nurture would in time yield fruit.
By the ancient Huron custom, when a man or a family
wanted a house, the whole village joined in building one.
In
the present case, not Ihonatiria only, but the neighboring town.
of Wenrio also, took part in the work,- though not without the
expectation of such gifts as the priests had to bestow. Before
October the task was finished. The house was constructed after
the Huron model. It was thirty-six feet long and about twenty
feet wide, framed with strong sapling poles planted in the earth
to form the sides, with the ends bent into an arch for the roof,—
the whole lashed firmly together, braced with cross-poles, and
closely covered with overlapping sheets of bark. Without, the
structure was strictly Indian; but within, the priests, with the
aid of their tools, made innovations which were the astonishment
of all the country. They divided their dwelling by transverse
partitions into three apartments, each with its wooden door,— a
wondrous novelty in the eyes of their visitors. The first served
as a hall, an ante-room, and a place of storage for corn, beans,
and dried fish. The second- the largest of the three-was at
once kitchen, workshop, dining-room, drawing-room, school-room,
and bed-chamber. The third was the chapel. Here they made.
their altar, and here were their images, pictures, and sacred ves-
sels. Their fire was on the ground, in the middle of the second
apartment, the smoke escaping by a hole in the roof. At the
sides were placed two wide platforms, after the Huron fashion,
four feet from the earthen floor. On these were chests in which
they kept their clothing and vestments, and beneath them they
slept, reclining on sheets of bark, and covered with skins and the
## p. 11104 (#320) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11104
garments they wore by day. Rude stools, a hand-mill, a large
Indian mortar of wood for crushing corn, and a clock, completed
the furniture of the room.
There was no lack of visitors, for the house of the black-
robes contained marvels the fame of which was noised abroad to
the uttermost confines of the Huron nation. Chief among them
was the clock. The guests would sit in expectant silence by the
hour, squatted on the ground, waiting to hear it strike. They
thought it was alive, and asked what it ate. As the last stroke
sounded, one of the Frenchmen would cry "Stop! "-and to the
admiration of the company, the obedient clock was silent. The
mill was another wonder, and they were never tired of turning
it. Besides these, there was a prism and a magnet; also a mag-
nifying glass wherein a flea was transformed to a frightful mon-
ster, and a multiplying lens which showed them the same object
eleven times repeated. "All this," says Brébeuf, "serves to gain
their affection, and make them more docile in respect to the
admirable and incomprehensible mysteries of our Faith; for the
opinion they have of our genius and capacity makes them believe
whatever we tell them. "
"What does the Captain say? " was the frequent question; for
by this title of honor they designated the clock.
"When he strikes twelve times, he says, 'Hang on the ket-
tle;' and when he strikes four times, he says, 'Get up and go
home.
> >>
Both interpretations were well remembered. At noon, visitors
were never wanting, to share the fathers' sagamite; but at the
stroke of four, all rose and departed, leaving the missionaries for
a time in peace. Now the door was barred; and gathering around
the fire, they discussed the prospects of the mission, compared
their several experiences, and took counsel for the future. But
the standing topic of their evening talk was the Huron language.
Concerning this each had some new discovery to relate, some
new suggestion to offer; and in the task of analyzing its construc-
tion and deducing its hidden laws, these intelligent and highly
cultivated minds found a congenial employment.
But while zealously laboring to perfect their knowledge of the
language, they spared no pains to turn their present acquirements
to account. Was man, woman, or child sick or suffering, they
were always at hand with assistance and relief,— adding, as they
saw opportunity, explanations of Christian doctrine, pictures of
## p. 11105 (#321) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11105
heaven and hell, and exhortations to embrace the Faith. Their
friendly offices did not cease here, but included matters widely
different. The Hurons lived in constant fear of the Iroquois.
At times the whole village population would fly to the woods for
concealment, or take refuge in one of the neighboring fortified.
towns, on the rumor of an approaching war-party. The Jesuits
promised them the aid of the four Frenchmen armed with arque-
buses, who had come with them from Three Rivers. They ad-
vised the Hurons to make their palisade forts, not as hitherto in
a circular form, but rectangular, with small flanking towers at the
corners for the arquebuse-men. The Indians at once saw the
value of the advice, and soon after began to act on it in the case
of their great town of Ossossané, or Rochelle.
At every opportunity, the missionaries gathered together the
children of the village at their house. On these occasions, Bré-
beuf, for greater solemnity, put on a surplice, and the close
angular cap worn by Jesuits in their convents. First he chanted
the Pater Noster, translated by Father Daniel into Huron rhymes,
-the children chanting in their turn. Next he taught them the
sign of the cross; made them repeat the Ave, the Credo, and the
Commandments; questioned them as to past instructions; gave
them briefly a few new ones; and dismissed them with a present
of two or three beads, raisins, or prunes. A great emulation was
kindled among this small fry of heathendom. The priests, with
amusement and delight, saw them gathered in groups about the
village, vying with each other in making the sign of the cross, or
in repeating the rhymes they had learned.
At times the elders of the people, the repositories of its
ancient traditions, were induced to assemble at the house of the
Jesuits, who explained to them the principal points of their doc-
trine, and invited them to a discussion. The auditors proved
pliant to a fault, responding "Good," or "That is true," to every
proposition; but when urged to adopt the faith which so readily
met their approval, they had always the same reply: "It is good
for the French; but we are another people, with different cus-
toms. " On one occasion, Brébeuf appeared before the chiefs and
elders at a solemn national council, described heaven and hell
with images suited to their comprehension, asked to which they
preferred to go after death, and then, in accordance with the
invariable Huron custom in affairs of importance, presented a
large and valuable belt of wampum, as an invitation to take the
path to Paradise.
XIX-695
"
## p. 11106 (#322) ##########################################
11106
FRANCIS PARKMAN
Notwithstanding all their exhortations, the Jesuits, for the
present, baptized but few. Indeed, during the first year or more,
they baptized no adults except those apparently at the point of
death; for, with excellent reason, they feared backsliding and
recantation. They found especial pleasure in the baptism of
dying infants, rescuing them from the flames of perdition, and
changing them, to borrow Le Jeune's phrase, "from little Indians.
into little angels. "
The fathers' slumbers were brief and broken. Winter was
the season of Huron festivity; and as they lay stretched on their
hard couch, suffocating with smoke and tormented by an inevita-
ble multitude of fleas, the thumping of the drum resounded all
night long from a neighboring house, mingled with the sound of
the tortoise-shell rattle, the stamping of moccasined feet, and the
cadence of voices keeping time with the dancers. Again, some
ambitious villager would give a feast, and invite all the warriors.
of the neighboring towns; or some grand wager of gambling,
with its attendant drumming, singing, and outcries, filled the
night with discord.
But these were light annoyances compared with the insane
rites to cure the sick, prescribed by the "medicine-men," or
ordained by the eccentric inspiration of dreams. In one case, a
young sorcerer, by alternate gorging and fasting,- both in the
interest of his profession,- joined with excessive exertion in
singing to the spirits, contracted a disorder of the brain, which
caused him in midwinter to run naked about the village, howl-
ing like a wolf. The whole population bestirred itself to effect a
cure. The patient had, or pretended to have, a dream, in which
the conditions of his recovery were revealed to him. These were
equally ridiculous and difficult; but the elders met in council, and
all the villagers lent their aid, till every requisition was fulfilled,
and the incongruous mass of gifts which the madman's dream
had demanded were all bestowed upon him. This cure failing,
a
"medicine-feast" was tried; then several dances in succession.
As the patient remained as crazy as before, preparations were
begun for a grand dance, more potent than all the rest. Bré-
beuf says that except the masquerades of the Carnival among
Christians, he never saw a folly equal to it. "Some," he adds,
"had sacks over their heads, with two holes for the eyes. Sonne
were as naked as your hand, with horns or feathers on their
heads, their bodies painted white, and their faces black as devills.
Others were daubed with red, black, and white. In short, every
## p. 11107 (#323) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11107
>>>
one decked himself as extravagantly as he could, to dance in this
ballet, and contribute something towards the health of the sick
man. This remedy also failing, a crowning effort of the medi-
cal art was essayed. Brébeuf does not describe it,-for fear, as
he says, of being tedious; but for the time, the village was a
pandemonium. This, with other ceremonies, was supposed to be
ordered by a certain image like a doll, which a sorcerer placed
in his tobacco-pouch, whence it uttered its oracles, at the same
time moving as if alive. "Truly," writes Brébeuf, "here is non-
sense enough; but I greatly fear there is something more dark
and mysterious in it. "
But all these ceremonies were outdone by the grand festival
of the Ononhara, or Dream Feast,-esteemed the most powerful
remedy in cases of sickness, or when a village was infested with
evil spirits. The time and manner of holding it were determined
at a solemn council. This scene of madness began at night. Men,
women, and children, all pretending to have lost their senses,
rushed shrieking and howling from house to house, upsetting
everything in their way, throwing fire-brands, beating those they
met or drenching them with water, and availing themselves of
this time of license to take a safe revenge on any who had ever
offended them. This scene of frenzy continued till daybreak.
No corner of the village was secure from the maniac crew. In
the morning there was a change. They ran from house to house,
accosting the inmates by name, and demanding of each the satis-
faction of some secret want, revealed to the pretended madman
in a dream, but of the nature of which he gave no hint what-
ever. The person addressed thereupon threw to him at random
any article at hand, as a hatchet, a kettle, or a pipe; and the
applicant continued his rounds till the desired gift was hit upon,
when he gave an outcry of delight, echoed by gratulatory cries
from all present. If, after all his efforts, he failed in obtaining
the object of his dream, he fell into a deep dejection, convinced
that some disaster was in store for him.
The approach of summer brought with it a comparative peace.
Many of the villagers dispersed,- some to their fishing, some
to expeditions of trade, and some to distant lodges by their
detached cornfields. The priests availed themselves of the res-
pite to engage in those exercises of private devotion which the
rule of St. Ignatius enjoins. About midsummer, however, their
quiet was suddenly broken. The crops were withering under a
severe drought, a calamity which the sandy nature of the soil
## p. 11108 (#324) ##########################################
11108
FRANCIS PARKMAN
made doubly serious. The sorcerers put forth their utmost power,
and from the tops of the houses yelled incessant invocations to
the spirits. All was in vain: the pitiless sky was cloudless
There was thunder in the east and thunder in the west; but
over Ihonatiria all was serene. A renowned "rain-maker," see-
ing his reputation tottering under his repeated failures, bethought
him of accusing the Jesuits, and gave out that the red color
of the cross which stood before their house scared the bird of
thunder, and caused him to fly another way. On this a clamor
arose. The popular ire turned against the priests, and the ob-
noxious cross was condemned to be hewn down. Aghast at the
threatened sacrilege, they attempted to reason away the storm,
assuring the crowd that the lightning was not a bird, but certain
hot and fiery exhalations, which, being imprisoned, darted this
way and that, trying to escape. As this philosophy failed to con-
vince the hearers, the missionaries changed their line of defense.
"You say that the red color of the cross frightens the bird of
thunder. Then paint the cross white, and see if the thunder will
come. "
This was accordingly done; but the clouds still kept aloof.
The Jesuits followed up their advantage.
"Your spirits cannot help you, and your sorcerers have de-
ceived you with lies. Now ask the aid of Him who made the
world, and perhaps he will listen to your prayers. " And they
added that if the Indians would renounce their sins and obey
the true God, they would make a procession daily to implore
his favor towards them.
There was no want of promises. The processions were begun,
as were also nine masses to St. Joseph; and as heavy rains
occurred soon after, the Indians conceived a high idea of the
efficacy of the French "medicine. "
In spite of the hostility of the sorcerers, and the transient
commotion raised by the red cross, the Jesuits had gained the
confidence and good-will of the Huron population. Their patience,
their kindness, their intrepidity, their manifest disinterestedness,
the blamelessness of their lives, and the tact which, in the utmost
fervors of their zeal, never failed them, had won the hearts of
these wayward savages; and chiefs of distant villages came to
urge that they would make their abode with them. As yet, the
results of the mission had been faint and few; but the priests
toiled on courageously, high in hope that an abundant harvest of
souls would one day reward their labors.
## p.
11109 (#325) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11109
THE BATTLE OF THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM
Re-
From Montcalm and Wolfe. ' Copyright 1884, by Francis Parkman.
printed by permission of the Parkman Estate, and of Little, Brown
& Co. , publishers.
THE
HE day broke in clouds and threatening rain. Wolfe's bat-
talions were drawn up along the crest of the heights. No
enemy was in sight, though a body of Canadians had sallied
from the town and moved along the strand towards the landing-
place, whence they were quickly driven back. He had achieved
the most critical part of his enterprise; yet the success that he
coveted placed him in imminent danger. On one side was the
garrison of Quebec and the army of Beauport, and Bougainville
was on the other. Wolfe's alternative was victory or ruin; for if
he should be overwhelmed by a combined attack, retreat would
be hopeless. His feelings no man can know; but it would be
safe to say that hesitation or doubt had no part in them.
He went to reconnoitre the ground, and soon came to the
Plains of Abraham; so called from Abraham Martin, a pilot
known as Maître Abraham, who had owned a piece of land here
in the early times of the colony. The Plains were a tract of
grass, tolerably level in most parts, patched here and there with
cornfields, studded with clumps of bushes, and forming a part of
the high plateau at the eastern end of which Quebec stood. On
the south it was bounded by the declivities along the St. Law.
rence; on the north, by those along the St. Charles, or rather
along the meadows through which that lazy stream crawled like
a writhing snake. At the place that Wolfe chose for his battle-
field the plateau was less than a mile wide.
Montcalm had passed a troubled night. Through all the
evening the cannon bellowed from the ships of Saunders, and
the boats of the fleet hovered in the dusk off the Beauport
shore, threatening every moment to land. Troops lined the in-
trenchments till day, while the General walked the field that
adjoined his headquarters till one in the morning, accompanied
by the Chevalier Johnstone and Colonel Poulariez.
says that he was in great agitation, and took no rest all night.
At daybreak he heard the sound of cannon above the town.
It was the battery at Samos firing on the English ships. He
had sent an officer to the quarters of Vaudreuil, which were
much nearer Quebec, with orders to bring him word at once
Johnstone
•
## p. 11110 (#326) ##########################################
III10
FRANCIS PARKMAN
should anything unusual happen. But no word came, and about
six o'clock he mounted and rode thither with Johnstone. As
they advanced, the country behind the town opened more and
more upon their sight; till at length, when opposite Vaudreuil's
house, they saw across the St. Charles, some two miles away,
the red ranks of British soldiers on the heights beyond.
"This is a serious business," Montcalm said; and sent off
Johnstone at full gallop to bring up the troops from the centre
and left of the camp. Those of the right were in motion already,
doubtless by the governor's order. Vaudreuil came out of the
house. Montcalm stopped for a few words with him; then set
spurs to his horse, and rode over the bridge of the St. Charles
to the scene of danger. He rode with a fixed look, uttering not
a word.
The army followed in such order as it might, crossed the
bridge in hot haste, passed under the northern rampart of Que-
bec, entered at the Palace Gate, and pressed on in headlong
march along the quaint narrow streets of the warlike town:
troops of Indians in scalp-locks and war-paint, a savage glitter in
their deep-set eyes; bands of Canadians whose all was at stake,
faith, country, and home; the colony regulars; the battalions of
Old France, a torrent of white uniforms and gleaming bayonets,
-La Sarre, Languedoc, Roussillon, Béarn,-victors of Oswego,
William Henry, and Ticonderoga. So they swept on, poured out
upon the plain, some by the gate of St. Louis and some by that
of St. John, and hurried, breathless, to where the banners of
Guienne still fluttered on the ridge.
-
Montcalm was amazed at what he saw. He had expected a
detachment, and he found an army. Full in sight before him
stretched the lines of Wolfe: the close ranks of the English
infantry, a silent wall of red, and the wild array of the High-
landers, with their waving tartans, and bagpipes screaming defi-
ance. Vaudreuil had not come; but not the less was felt the
evil of a divided authority and the jealousy of the rival chiefs.
Montcalm waited long for the forces he had ordered to join
him from the left wing of the army. He waited in vain. It
is said that the governor had detained them, lest the English
should attack the Beauport shore. Even if they did so, and suc-
ceeded, the French might defy them, could they but put Wolfe
to rout on the Plains of Abraham. Neither did the garrison of
Quebec come to the aid of Montcalm.
He sent to Ramesay, its
## p. 11111 (#327) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
IIIII
•
commander, for twenty-five field-pieces which were on the Pal-
ace battery. Ramesay would give him only three, saying that
he wanted them for his own defense. There were orders and
counter-orders; misunderstanding, haste, delay, perplexity.
Montcalm and his chief officers held a council of war. It is
said that he and they alike were for immediate attack. His ene-
mies declare that he was afraid lest Vaudreuil should arrive
and take command; but the governor was not a man to assume
responsibility at such a crisis. Others say that his impetuosity
overcame his better judgment; and of this charge it is hard to
acquit him. Bougainville was but a few miles distant, and some
of his troops were much nearer; a messenger sent by way of Old
Lorette could have reached him in an hour and a half at most,
and a combined attack in front and rear might have been con-
certed with him. If, moreover, Montcalm could have come to an
understanding with Vaudreuil, his own force might have been
strengthened by two or three thousand additional men from the
town and the camp of Beauport; but he felt that there was no
time to lose: for he imagined that Wolfe would soon be rein-
forced - which was impossible; and he believed that the English
were fortifying themselves which was no less an error. He has
been blamed not only for fighting too soon, but for fighting at
all. In this he could not choose. Fight he must, for Wolfe was
now in a position to cut off all his supplies. His men were full
of ardor, and he resolved to attack before their ardor cooled. He
spoke a few words to them in his keen, vehement way. << I
remember very well how he looked," one of the Canadians, then
a boy of eighteen, used to say in his old age: "he rode a black
or dark-bay horse along the front of our lines, brandishing his
sword, as if to excite us to do our duty. He wore a coat with
wide sleeves, which fell back as he raised his arm, and showed
the white linen of the wristband. "
-
The English waited the result with a composure which if
not quite real, was at least well feigned. The three field-pieces
sent by Ramesay plied them with canister-shot, and fifteen hun-
dred Canadians and Indians fusilladed them in front and flank.
Over all the plain, from behind bushes and knolls and the edge
of cornfields, puffs of smoke sprang incessantly from the guns of
these hidden marksmen. Skirmishers were thrown out before the
lines to hold them in check, and the soldiers were ordered to lie
on the grass to avoid the shot. The firing was liveliest on the
## p. 11112 (#328) ##########################################
11112
FRANCIS PARKMAN
English left, where bands of sharpshooters got under the edge of
the declivity, among thickets, and behind scattered houses, whence
they killed and wounded a considerable number of Townshend's
men. The light infantry were called up from the rear. The
houses were taken and retaken, and one or more of them was
burned.
Wolfe was everywhere. How cool he was, and why his fol-
lowers loved him, is shown by an incident that happened in the
course of the morning. One of his captains was shot through
the lungs; and on recovering consciousness he saw the General
standing at his side. Wolfe pressed his hand, told him not to
despair, praised his services, promised him early promotion, and
sent an aide-de-camp to Monckton to beg that officer to keep the
promise if he himself should fall.
It was towards ten o'clock when, from the high ground on
the right of the line, Wolfe saw that the crisis was near. The
French on the ridge had formed themselves into three bodies,
regulars in the centre, regulars and Canadians on right and left.
Two field-pieces, which had been dragged up the heights at Anse
du Foulon, fired on them with grape-shot, and the troops, rising
from the ground, prepared to receive them. In a few moments
more they were in motion. They came on rapidly, uttering loud
shouts, and firing as soon as they were within range. Their
ranks, ill ordered at the best, were further confused by a number
of Canadians who had been mixed among the regulars, and who,
after hastily firing, threw themselves on the ground to reload.
The British advanced a few rods; then halted and stood still.
When the French were within forty paces the word of command
rang out, and a crash of musketry answered all along the line.
The volley was delivered with remarkable precision. In the bat-
talions of the centre, which had suffered least from the enemy's
bullets, the simultaneous explosion was afterwards said by French
officers to have sounded like a cannon-shot. Another volley fol-
lowed, and then a furious clattering fire that lasted but a minute.
or two. When the smoke rose, a miserable sight was revealed:
the ground cumbered with dead and wounded, the advancing
masses stopped short and turned into a frantic mob, shouting,
cursing, gesticulating.
The order was given to charge. Then
over the field rose the British cheer, mixed with the fierce yell
of the Highland slogan. Some of the corps pushed forward with
the bayonet; some advanced firing. The clansmen drew their
## p. 11113 (#329) ##########################################
FRANCIS PARKMAN
11113
He
broadswords and dashed on, keen and swift as bloodhounds. At
the English right, though the attacking column was broken to
pieces, a fire was still kept up, chiefly, it seems, by sharpshooters
from the bushes and cornfields, where they had lain for an hour
or more. Here Wolfe himself led the charge, at the head of the
Louisbourg grenadiers. A shot shattered his wrist. He wrapped
his handkerchief about it and kept on. Another shot struck him,
and he still advanced, when a third lodged in his breast.
staggered, and sat on the ground. Lieutenant Brown of the
grenadiers, one Henderson, a volunteer in the same company, and
a private soldier, aided by an officer of artillery who ran to join
them, carried him in their arms to the rear. He begged them to
lay him down. They did so, and asked if he would have a sur-
geon. There's no need," he answered: "it's all over with me. "
A moment after, one of them cried out, "They run; see how
they run! " "Who run? " Wolfe demanded, like a man roused
from sleep. The enemy, sir. Egad, they give way everywhere! "
"Go, one of you, to Colonel Burton," returned the dying man;
"tell him to march Webb's regiment down to Charles River, to
cut off their retreat from the bridge. " Then, turning on his
side, he murmured, "Now, God be praised, I will die in peace! "
and in a few moments his gallant soul had fled.
«<
«<
Montcalm, still on horseback, was borne with the tide of fugi-
tives towards the town. As he approached the walls a shot
passed through his body. He kept his seat; two soldiers sup-
ported him, one on each side, and led his horse through the
St. Louis Gate. On the open space within, among the excited
crowd, were several women, drawn, no doubt, by eagerness to
know the result of the fight. One of them recognized him,
saw the streaming blood, and shrieked, "O mon Dieu! mon Dieu!
Le Marquise est tué! " "It's nothing, it's nothing," replied the
death-stricken man: "don't be troubled for me, my good friends. "
("Ce n'est rien, ce n'est rien: ne vous affligez pas pour moi, mes
bonnes amies. ")
## p. 11114 (#330) ##########################################
11114
PARMENIDES
(520? -450? B. C. )
Sear
ARMENIDES, son of Pyrrhes, and the most famous of the Eleatic
philosophers, was born at Elea, in Southern Italy, about 520
B. C. Of his personal history little is known: merely that
he took an active part in the politics of his native city, drawing up
for it a code of laws to which the Eleans every year swore to con-
form; and that late in life, about 454 B. C. , he made a visit to Athens
in company with his pupil Zeno, and there made the acquaintance
of Socrates, then a very young man (see Plato, 'Parmenides,' 127,
A, B; 'Sophist,' 217, C; 'Theætetus, 183, E). He seems to have been
acquainted with the thought of the Ionian philosophers, especially
of Anaximander and Heraclitus, but to have been more deeply in-
fluenced by Pythagoras and Xenophanes. He numbered among his
friends Empedocles and Leucippus, and taught Melissus and Zeno.
His only written work was a poem 'On Nature,' of which consider-
able fragments remain. These have several times been collected.
The best editions of them are those by Karsten (1835), and by Stein
in 'Symbola Philologorum Bonnensium' (1864-7), pages 763-806. There
is a complete English translation of them in hexameters by Thomas
Davidson in Vol. iv. of the Journal of Speculative Philosophy, pages
1-16.
With the exception of Heraclitus, Parmenides is the greatest of
the pre-Socratic Greek thinkers. His importance consists chiefly in
the fact that he was the first person to distinguish between the Ideal
and the Real; between Being, eternal, unchangeable, and the subject
of science, and Becoming, transient, changeable, and mere matter of
opinion. Being he identifies with thought; and Becoming with sensa-
tion. He is thus the prime author of that dualism which runs through
all subsequent Greek thinking, and which logically leads to asceticism.
in life and absolutism in politics. The resemblance of his philosophy
to certain Hindu systems has induced some writers-e. g. , Gladisch
in his 'Die Eleaten und die Indier' (Posen, 1844)—to connect it with
these; but it is in fact due to a combination of the Pythagorean
principle of number with the Ionic notion of process. It led the way
to the universal subjectivism of the Sophists.
## p. 11115 (#331) ##########################################
PARMENIDES
INTRODUCTION OF THE POEM ON NATURE
11115
SOON
SOON as the coursers that bear me and draw me as far as extend-
eth
Impulse, guided and threw me aloft in the glorious pathway,
Up to the goddess that guideth through all things man that is con-
scious,
There was I carried along, for there did the coursers sagacious,
Drawing the chariot, bear me, and virgins preceded to guide them-
Daughters of Helios, leaving behind them the mansions of darkness —
Into the light, with their strong hands forcing asunder the night-
shrouds,
While in its sockets the axle emitted the sound of a syrinx,
Glowing, for still it was urged by a couple of wheels well-rounded,
One upon this side, one upon that, when it hastened its motion.
There were the gates of the paths of the Night and the paths of the
Day-time.
Under the gates is a threshold of stone, and above is a lintel.
These too are closed in the ether with great doors guarded by Just-
ice-
Justice the mighty avenger, that keepeth the keys of requital.
Her did the virgins address, and with soft words deftly persuaded,
Swiftly for them to withdraw from the gates the bolts and its fast-
ener.
Opening wide, they uncovered the yawning expanse of the portal,
Backward rolling successive the hinges of brass their sockets,-
Hinges constructed with nails and with clasps; then onward the vir-
gins
Straightway guided their steeds and their chariot over the highway.
Then did the goddess receive me with gladness, and taking my right
hand
Into her own, thus uttered a word and kindly bespake me:-
"Youth that art mated with charioteers and companions immortal,
Coming to us on the coursers that bear thee, to visit our mansion,
Hail! for it is not an evil Award that hath guided thee hither
Into this path,— for, I ween, it is far from the pathway of mortals,-
Nay, it is Justice and Right. Thou needs must have knowledge of
all things:
First of the Truth's unwavering heart that is fraught with conviction,
Then of the notions of mortals, where no true conviction abideth;
But thou shalt surely be taught this too,- that every opinion
Needs must pass through the ALL, and vanquish the test with approval. "
Translation of Thomas Davidson.
## p. 11116 (#332) ##########################################
11116
PARMENIDES
THOUGHT AND EXISTENCE
ONE
NE and the same are thought and that whereby there is think-
ing;
Never apart from existence, wherein it receiveth expression,
Shalt thou discover the action of thinking; for naught is or shall be
Other besides or beyond the Existent; for Fate hath determined
That to be lonely and moveless, which all things are but a name
for,-
Things that men have set up for themselves, believing as real,-
Birth and decay, becoming and ceasing, to be and to not-be,
Movement from place to place, and change from color to color.
But since the uttermost limit of Being is ended and perfect,
Then it is like to the bulk of a sphere well rounded on all sides,
Everywhere distant alike from the centre: for never there can be
Anything greater or anything less, on this side or that side;
Yea, there is neither a non-existent to bar it from coming
Into equality, neither can Being be different from Being,
More of it here, less there, for the All is inviolate ever.
Therefore, I ween, it lies equally stretched in its limits on all sides.
Translation of Thomas Davidson.
KOSMOS
TH
HEN thou shalt know the ethereal nature and each of its tokens
Each of the signs in the ether, and all the invisible workings
Wrought by the blemishless sun's pure lamp, and whence they
have risen;
Then thou shalt hear of the orb-eyed moon's circumambient work-
ings,
And of her nature, and likewise discern the heaven that surrounds
them,
Whence it arose, and how by her sway Necessity bound it
Firm, to encircle the bounds of the stars.
Translation of Thomas Davidson.
[These three passages are reprinted by permission from the Journal of
Speculative Philosophy, Vol. iv. ]
## p. 11117 (#333) ##########################################
11117
-
THOMAS WILLIAM PARSONS
(1819-1892)
HE poetry of Thomas W. Parsons has in its best examples a
classic perfection conjoined with a deep feeling, which gives
it distinction. He was a scholar who worked with a cer-
tain austerity and aloofness, yet with an underlying perception of
humor which saved his work from flatness or turgidity even when it
did not appear on the surface. Dr. Parsons was thoroughly impreg-
nated with Dante and the influence of Italian literature. Literature
indeed, in this aspect of it, was to him a vocation and a passion.
He served the Muse with a full sense of the sacredness of song.
He was born in Boston, August 18th, 1819; was the son of a physi-
cian of that city, and was destined for the same profession,— taking
a degree at the Harvard Medical School, and for some time prac-
ticing dentistry. Boston was his home when he was in the United
States; but he traveled and resided much abroad. In his leisure
hours he wrote his verses and worked on his English renderings of
the master poet of Italy. So early as 1843 he published a translation
of the first ten cantos of the 'Inferno,' and a revision with seven
more cantos followed in 1867. He made a version of the great epic
a life labor, the translation in its final form appearing in 1893.
(
Dr. Parsons was never eager for publication, and some of his vol-
umes of verse were printed privately for circulation among friends.
Several collections of his poems were published: one entitled 'Ghetto
di Roma' in 1854, The Magnolia' in 1867, The Shadow of the Obe-
lisk' in 1872, Circum Præcorda' in 1892; and a final selection in
1893, after his death. This last book contains-excepting his trans-
lation of Dante- the bulk of the work his admirers would wish to
see preserved. There are lyrics in this volume as perfect in their
kind as anything done by a contemporaneous poet.
The opening
poem, On a Bust of Dante,' is as noble a tribute as the Italian has
received in our tongue. Many lines and passages in the different
lyrics have a quotableness which means fine thought married to fit
expression. In the tribute to Daniel Webster, for example, occurs the
stanza:
"Kings have their dynasties, but not the mind:
Cæsars leave other Cæsars to succeed;
But Wisdom dying, leaves no heir behind. "
## p. 11118 (#334) ##########################################
11118
THOMAS WILLIAM PARSONS
And the poem closes with these lovely words:-
"We have no high cathedral for his rest,
Dim with proud banners and the dust of years;
All we can give him is New England's breast
To lay his head on- and his country's tears. "
There is something inevitable in the perfection of this, from 'The
Birthday of Robert Burns': —
"For flowers will grow, and showers will fall,
And clouds will travel o'er the sky;
And the great God who cares for all,
He will not let his darlings die. "
The man who can strike out things like these - and he wrote
whole poems which keep this level-deserves, and doubtless will get,
permanent recognition as a lyric singer. Parsons's range is not wide,
nor is his accomplishment varied. But in his individual way and
within his compass, he struck a very pure, fine note, which will give
lasting pleasure.
Dr. Parsons died at Scituate, Massachusetts, September 3d, 1892.
[The following selections are all made from the 'Poems of Thomas William
Parsons. Copyright 1893, by Houghton, Mifflin & Co.
