Abstract
This article documents the specific activities by Christian Kauder in the context of Catholic mission work and their direct influence on the daily life, culture, and religion of the Mi’kmaq. These activities were the mechanism of forced culture change and took place long after the arrival of the first Europeans. Kauder’s writings give us a small but excellent glimpse of what he wanted to do and how he set about it, while describing some elements of Mi’kmaq culture he encountered. This article tries to shed light on how Kauder, who, having left his order, and living in a missionary outpost in Nova Scotia, was able to garner the necessary support for this monumental and unique task, the printing in Vienna, Austria, of a religious instruction manual in “hieroglyphics” destined for missionary work among the Mi’kmaq.
The Austrian Leopoldine Society (Leopoldinenstiftung) played a crucial role in the missionary activities of the Luxembourg priest Christian Kauder among the Mi’kmaq in Canada. A parish priest from Luxembourg, he joined the Redemptorists in Belgium and soon requested to go to North America in late 1844. Having worked among European immigrants, he contracted a tropical disease in New Orleans. Kauder left the Redemptorist Order in a moment of disarray, an action he regretted his whole life.1 After erring throughout the United States, he moved to a Trappist monastery in an area of Nova Scotia in 1855, where no other Catholic priest had been for some time. Here he decided to engage in a mission with the Mi’kmaq. Soon he found out that the key to successful missionizing lay in the use of old hieroglyphic texts written on paper and bark, containing religious instruction, prayers, and songs. Kauder then went about collecting these handwritten, hand-copied texts and prepared them for printing. A task of an unprecedented magnitude, it could only happen with substantial European support, which he found in Vienna at the Leopoldine Society with the help of a former Redemptorist colleague from his time in Baltimore and Philadelphia. Kauder was the instigator behind the printing of these Mi’kmaq hieroglyphs. In the present volume, Patrick Hayes has set the wider picture of the Redemptorists in North America, but my aim here is to document the particular case study of Kauder, a Redemptorist, in the context of Catholic mission work and their direct influence on the daily life, culture, and religion of the Mi’kmaq. They were part of the mechanism of forced cultural change and took place long after the arrival of the first Europeans. Kauder’s writings give us a small but excellent glimpse of what he wanted to do and how he set about it, while describing some elements of Mi’kmaq culture he encountered.2 In this article I try to shed light on how Christian Kauder, who, having left his order, and living in a missionary outpost in Nova Scotia, was able to garner the necessary support for this monumental and unique task, the printing in Vienna, Austria, of a religious instruction manual in “hieroglyphics” destined for missionary work among the Mi’kmaq.3
The Historical Context
Today’s Canadian Maritime Provinces were the earliest North American region that experienced contacts between Europeans and Native Americans.4 This maritime region has been home to numerous peoples throughout time. The Mi’kmaq were able to use the resources from the ocean as well as those from the land, creating a distinct lifestyle, based on seasonal migrations. Like their neighbors, their social structure was based on family groups without a strong central hierarchy. Their beliefs and traditions were shaped by the land and their natural environment. Hunting and fishing followed and respected the seasonal movements of the animals. A continuous historical occupation of their lands can be reconstructed through the many traces found today. Due to their geographic situation on a large peninsula and adjacent islands, they were well able to protect their territory from neighboring peoples and develop a thriving culture with a sizable population. They were the largest of the Algonquian speaking peoples in the Northeast, and are closely related to some of their neighbors. Together they were known as Wabanaki. The Mi’kmaq name for their home is Mi’kma’ki and historically it was divided into seven districts, including today’s Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and parts of Québec and Newfoundland.5
This all changed with the European contact. Geographic proximity to Europe, favorable North Atlantic currents, and the rich fishing grounds off the coasts made it relatively easy and attractive for Europeans to reach these lands. Numerous stories and legends point to historic contacts between European seafarers and these lands. An Icelandic saga speaks of a “Vinland” in North America. A Viking settlement in Newfoundland bears physical testimony to European presence, albeit a short one. An ancient Portuguese map locates a “terra de Corte Real” discovered by this family of traders and said to be in North America.
Later the bays and islands surrounding the mouth of the Saint Lawrence River probably became a place for meetings between European fishermen and Native inhabitants around the time of Christopher Columbus’s arrival in the Caribbean. Fishermen from Normandy, England, and the Bay of Biscay regularly traveled to the rich fishing grounds for lucrative results. An exchange culture seems to have developed: European trade goods for furs. From the early contacts they brought along Native people to prove their discoveries and ask for trade privileges. After the fishermen, early explorers looking for the riches of the Orient also came to this region looking for a short passage to Asia. Trading privileges were granted, for example, by French kings in order to secure the lands and their riches for the Crown. The first settlements, seasonal, for drying fish and boiling oil and fat were soon followed by attempts to settle permanently and to take possession of the land. Sightings of the French and the Basque fishermen were familiar along the coasts of Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, and Cape Breton, especially during the fishing season. The French king gave exclusive trade rights to certain individuals or groups backed by investors. Their lengthy voyages called for a religious presence, particularly among the fishermen and early settlers who could not be left unattended by the Church for so long.
In France, different Catholic dioceses and orders competed for the right to accompany and establish religious presences. Wealthy nobles often sponsored the religious presences on board. Those priests soon turned their attention to the Native American population. But the huge area and the seasonal mobility of the Native population was from the beginning their biggest challenge. The priests were few in number, living among a highly mobile population. In order to respond to this challenge, they quickly adopted techniques and tools in order to continue missionizing during the seasonal migrations of the indigenous Native populations. They also played an active role in defending this sparsely populated Nouvelle France against the British interests from the adjacent colonies.6
Even though France had surrendered Nova Scotia and the adjacent territories to Britain by the mid-eighteenth century, French Catholic priests had laid a strong religious foundation, which especially perseveres among the Mi’kmaq until today. The history of these first encounters has been documented, researched, and interpreted in various ways.7,8 Throughout history this special religious link has taken on a great symbolic power. Cape Breton Island and the eastern part of Nova Scotia had been settled by Catholic immigrants from Scotland who still practiced their Gaelic language. They immigrated and settled as regional kinship groups between 1770 and 1850.9 It is not surprising that the Mi’kmaq and Scottish communities lived their lives completely apart. In addition, internal strife within the Gaelic immigrant communities soon led to the division of Nova Scotia into two dioceses, one in Arichat (later Antigonish) based on Scots and Acadians, the other one in Halifax mostly based on Irish immigrants.10
Kauder’s Arrival in Nova Scotia
In this article we are interested in one of these Catholic actors who followed in the footsteps of the long line of French priests establishing a quite unique relationship. Here in eastern Nova Scotia, Kauder began his missionary activities which culminated in the printing of the hieroglyphic book, financed by the Leopoldine Society in Vienna.11 When Vincent de Paul Merle received the authorization from the provincial government to establish his Trappist monastery there, he brought with him the Mi’kmaq group he previously took care of in Chezzetcook (next to Halifax) from 1815 to 1837.12 This same group had been under the helm of Abbé Pierre Maillard, a most influential French missionary, who was active among the Mi’kmaq from 1735 until his death in 1762.13 From 1839 on, the British provincial administration allowed the Trappists from Little Clairvaux monastery to do Catholic pastoral work among the Mi’kmaq.
Kauder arrived in eastern Nova Scotia at the Trappist monastery of Petit Clairvaux sometime in 1854/1855.14 At that point, Kauder was a former member of the Redemptorist Order (CSsR), an order he had left in 1852, a step he had immediately regretted and which proved difficult to reverse. The story of his departure is quite well documented in Redemptorist archives.15 Kauder seems to become sick during the time he worked in New Orleans in 1848. Upon his return to Pennsylvania, he returned to rural missions. He then asked to be hospitalized in Detroit, but the nuns asked him to leave after a time. His health problems continued and were aggravated by the traumatic memory of an exorcism in which he participated in 1844 in Luxembourg. All of this caused a confusion in him, as he later writes, and he asked to be dispensed of his vows in late 1852. After leaving the order, Kauder tried a new beginning, first with the Trappists, where he likely taught at the Bardstown Seminary in Kentucky, and it seems logical that there was a Trappist link behind Kauder’s move to Nova Scotia. But there was also a personal reason: according to one of his letters, his doctors proposed he move to a cooler climate. There it took him two years to recuperate from his ailments. During that time, he succeeded in reconnecting to the Redemptorist Order, was admitted in 1855 as an oblate (oblatus CSsR) by the Superior Mauron and thus received regular financial support (mass stipend) from his Baltimore-based order, further stabilizing his situation. While at Petit Clairvaux, Kauder became acquainted with the Mi’kmaq.16
Christian Kauder and His Initial Activities among the Mi’kmaq
In mid-1856, after one year of rest, he took on a full task of Catholic pastoral work and developed numerous activities to support the local Mi’kmaq population. Kauder became one of the few French-speaking Catholic priests to administer permanently to the Mi’kmaq in a long time. The history of French religious presence in New France, as the area was called, begins in 1610 with the “baptism” of the Mi’kmaq Chief Membertou.17 Out of this episode a long-lasting alliance developed which continues today. Numerous French missionaries strengthened this link by baptizing the Mi’kmaq, while later missionaries added the teaching of religion, also through the hieroglyphs first described by Chrestien Leclercq who arrived in 1677.18 Leclercq then used them to teach Catholic religion like several of his successors, the most prominent being Pierre Maillard in the mid-18th century.19 He developed texts written in hieroglyphics, which Kauder saw and which inspired him. Hand in hand with the teaching went a prominent position of authority for these priests. They actively assisted French strategic interests and mobilized Mi’kmaq to defend the land against regular incursions by the British from New England. Prins calls them the “warrior-priests.”20 Over time the missionaries took on a role as Mi’kmaq leaders. They influenced decision making by situating the Mi’kmaq in the French camp, fighting against the British, but they act within the Mi’kmaq cultural and linguistic context. His presence and his actions can be situated within a long line of Catholic religious activity and intervention that dramatically altered the Mi’kmaq religion and culture since the establishment of the first French settlement in 1610.
At the time of his arrival, the Mi’kmaq were considered Catholic by the French and the British, but according to Kauder without any priests of their own. Britain had taken power from the French as a result of a campaign during the French and Indian Wars. The overwhelmingly French-speaking Catholic population, the “Acadians,” was deported beginning in 1755 (to 1764), as most refused to swear the requested oath to the British monarch. Already in 1713 as a result of the Treaty of Utrecht, France had ceded Newfoundland and Nouvelle France (renamed Nova Scotia) to Britain, but Cape Breton had remained French. Now this too ended with the fall of Louisbourg in 1758. These massive deportations became known as the Grand Dérangement in Acadian history. In 1763 Cape Breton became a part of Nova Scotia.21 There was indeed a need for missionary activities to refresh the Catholic religion among the Mi’kmaq.
The exact location of Kauder’s mission at first seems unclear as he sent his letters marked Tracadie, which is next to today’s Monastery, NS, close to the reserve “Paqtnkek-Niktuek No. 23 (Pomquet and Afton).” The name of the hamlet, Tracadie, derives from a neighboring Mi’kmaq village, which was called “Tlagatig,” meaning “settlement,” situated on a wide bay. Kauder probably lived at the monastery Petit Clairvaux, where he first found a home. But it is obvious that he did not want to be identified with the religious community when writing to potential donors in Europe, as he portrays himself as an individual without means in the midst of the forests, trying to help his “children of the forest.”22
Kauder Solicits European Financial Support
At the outset of Kauder’s activities among the Mi’kmaq, he wrote to bishops and Catholic mission societies in Europe as well as to the major newspaper in his home country requesting donations in order to support his mission work. In these letters he describes the situation of the Mi’kmaq as a desperate one, fully needing and meriting all the support the donors could give. In a letter of 1857, he indicated the number of 1,200 families of Native Americans for the entire province of NS, converted a long time ago by French missionaries. They had since been abandoned by the Catholic Church and were targets of Silas T. Rand, sent by a Baptist mission society from Prince Edward Island.
Kauder also wrote that in his daily work any interaction needed a translator, whether it be the annual confession or exchanges about dangerous health conditions. Thus, he asked for money for a permanent translator. He also requested money to establish a catechism school and complained about alcoholism among the Mi’kmaq, which took away their income from fur trading. When Kauder was ill, he writes, a local Mi’kmaq leader came to him to ask for religious instruction, specifically for the children. No matter what vices he described, he ended with the statement that the Mi’kmaq were very attached to the Catholic religion.23
He added to his letters examples of the religious texts in Mi’kmaq hieroglyphic script, handcrafted Mi’kmaq objects, as well as pamphlets he received from Eugene Vetromile, a Jesuit priest, and which he used for religious instruction (an annual feast calendar for the Penobscot, a temperance leaflet).24 Vetromile was of great influence and inspired Kauder’s work. Having received a copy of Vetromile’s “Indian Good Book,” published in 1856, which also had a handwritten manuscript at its origin, Kauder gave his own book a similar title, albeit in German.25
Kauder gave detailed insights into his work, described his goals and partial success in order to convince the reader of their value. What is noticeable is the simplicity and self-criticism of the author, who concentrates on his day-to-day work and its detailed description. He admitted his relative ignorance of the language and asked for donations so that he could pay for the Mi’kmaq teacher. In this respect, his presentation is quite helpful. Kauder attributed all Mi’kmaq vices to the lack of Catholic education. In his letters he laid the foundations for his project and his financial support. The main purpose of all his correspondence was to raise funds.
Kauder taught the Mi’kmaq based on German-language religious instruction manuals. He put an emphasis on preparing the first communion. He particularly emphasized the need for daily prayers among communities and small groups. He distributed small religious items to individuals to encourage and reward their religious behavior. He tried to commit the Mi’kmaq communities, family groups, and individuals to adhere to a religious calendar between the times of the priests’ visits and during their seasonal migrations or hunts. He wrote at least one petition to the Governor of Nova Scotia on behalf of a local community and campaigned continuously to limit the abuse of alcohol.
His interventions in the Mi’kmaq hierarchy are especially relevant as he tried to strengthen the authority of the leaders, also on the level of the village structure. Kauder noted that leaders had in the past received medals with the portrait of French King Louis XIV on one side. We do not know if he had seen one or if he had only heard about it. He revived this tradition and used it for his missionary work by ordering medals of distinction for chiefs and the councilors in Rome as well as in Halifax. The Mi’kmaq hieroglyphs that Kauder chose for a chief’s medal are probably based on those already prepared by previous missionaries, who most likely combined church symbols with elements from historic Mi’kmaq symbols as seen in pictographs, or simply were inspired by them, such as those along Lake Kejimkujiq.26 The bishop (of Antigonish) formally handed these symbols of authority to Mi’kmaq leaders on a Catholic feast day during a mass, thereby acknowledging their leadership positions.
Kauder himself gave a medal on Saint Anne’s day in 1861 to the chief of Pomquet. He had it made in Rome with the help of a fellow priest, who brought it back in 1860. The medal showed on one side Pius IX and on the other side the hieroglyphs reading Jesus Eulidelemin and Kijinu Mali abonemuin.27 These symbols of authority certainly promoted Catholic behavior but most importantly were seen by both sides as reinforcing a centuries-old alliance dating to the arrival of the first French priests and settlers.28
Kauder also wrote that he produced a few of his own pamphlets, preparing his texts in English and then giving them to his Mi’kmaq paid translator, Michael Christmas, who was the brother of Benjamin Christmas, who in turn was until 1860 the translator for Kauder’s Baptist rival Silas Rand (active from 1853–1864),29 a linguist and first to publish the Mi’kmaq stories of Glooskap. However, I have not come across any so far. Thus, for his own sermons Kauder was limited to the phonetic written Mi’kmaq translations, without being able to digress.30 He took texts from German language religious books and translated them into English. Then they were translated into Mi’kmaw and finally he transmitted them to the Mi’kmaq in oral and written form, the latter in hieroglyphs. Already in 1858, he wrote that he officiated the ceremonies of Saint Anne’s day in Tracadie and heard confessions in Mi’kmaw.31
In a biography of Rand, it is stated that Kauder’s project to print a Mi’kmaq book was a reaction to this Baptist missionary’s work. This may be partially true, but Kauder’s admiration for the production of literature by Vetromile also played a part. Originally Kauder had wanted to include in his book a manuscript prepared by Eugene Vetromile, SJ, on the history of a Mi’kmaq text in his possession. Most importantly, I think, Kauder’s overall approach toward missionizing the Mi’kmaq was based on his understanding of the importance of the hieroglyphs. As he spent time among the Mi’kmaq, he saw them using these old sheets with hieroglyphs. As a missionary he recognized the potential for their use. Through the stories of Mi’kmaq elders, he certainly heard of their long history and the link to the important relationship with the French priests in the past, and he immediately seized upon this opportunity to continue an existing and successful missionary approach. He chose a different approach from Vetromile, a Catholic, working further south with the Penobscot, and Rand, a Baptist with initially strong funding focusing on the Catholic Mi’kmaq: translating teachings into phonetic script, Kauder published the Catechism, hymns, and prayers in hieroglyphic script, thus trying to situate himself within the Mi’kmaq tradition.
By using the hieroglyphs, Kauder continued a tradition that seemed important to the Mi’kmaq and that he recognized and used for the Catholic teachings. He illustrated his use of the hieroglyphs in several letters we found. At one point he seemed confident enough to correct Shea’s interpretation on the use of pronouns.32 In other letters he quoted examples of translation and grammar.33 It then became clear that he was ready to embark on his biggest challenge, having all the Catholic texts printed in one volume, and thus render his contribution permanent. Such an interpretation seems not inappropriate, when one follows his successful approach toward donors.
The Hieroglyphs
The use of the so-called Mi’kmaq hieroglyphs is well documented; however, their origin goes back to before Europeans arrived. It is still unclear whether they were a mnemonic tool or an active writing system.34 When we speak of hieroglyphs, we use the historic term that has been used in literature over the centuries in order to describe the signs used by French missionaries when describing the pictographic writing, called suckerfish script, komqwejwi’kasikl in Mi’kmaq. It was first documented for missionary use after 1675 by Father Chrétien Le Clercq.
In a letter to his financial supporter, the archbishop of Munich, he sent an article by Shea about the hieroglyphs,35 and Kauder commented on this article by saying that Shea believed them to be a European invention with a limited “Indian” basis. Kauder however saw it differently; as he wrote that he believed the hieroglyphs came directly from the “Indians,” that the first missionaries found them among them, and that they used them to teach the truth of our religion. In his view there cannot be any doubt that they multiplied and perfected them. He argued, that, had the Mi’kmaq not been familiar with them, what would have convinced them to learn such difficult signs and to introduce them among themselves, since they themselves would have had to learn them.36
Furthermore, Kauder knew of the discovery of some very old petroglyphs on the rocks. He stated that he had sent a “facsimile” of these to his great supporter in Vienna, Count Ludwig von Coudenhove.37 Building on prior Mi’kmaq use, the hieroglyphs were adopted as a tool by the missionaries. The aim of this article is not to study the origin of this hieroglyphic writing and we note that the basis for this has been laid already.38 A comparison shows that Kauder adhered very closely to Maillard’s hieroglyphs. Père Pacifique de Valigny clearly identified Maillard as the author of the hieroglyphs used by Kauder.39 What is uncontested is the way in which the hieroglyphs were used as the basis for Catholic missionary activities, namely, in order to transcribe Catholic texts, hymns, and prayers for daily use by the priests in their religious instruction of the Mi’kmaq.
A definite development occurred from the first description of the hieroglyphs by Father de Clercq to the handwritten pages that remain from Father Pierre Maillard’s times to the book that finally was printed in Vienna in 1866. This development was driven by Catholic priests and missionaries, who took these hieroglyphs and gave them a distinctly Catholic visual identification and content. They were not used for correspondence with non-Mi’kmaq. The case of a petition to the Governor written by Kauder on behalf of his Mi’kmaq parishioners in English and phonetic Mi’kmaq shows this clearly.
Christian Kauder, the Hieroglyphs, and the Leopoldine Society
Kauder contacted a potential supporter in Vienna because he fully believed in the hieroglyphs’ extraordinary value for the Mi’kmaq and thus for his own missionary work. He thereby not only honored the Mi’kmaq respect for the hieroglyphs, but he also wanted to continue the efforts made by his missionary predecessors, who saw the hieroglyphs at the center for transmitting Catholic beliefs.
He believed that the hieroglyphs were already used by the Mi’kmaq at the arrival of the first Catholic missionaries, who then increased their number and “perfected” them, see above. Kauder himself reminded his readers of this historic development.40 Many of the hieroglyphs he used represent typical Catholic symbols; such as the cross sign, the letter M for Mother Mary, the triangle for the Holy Trinity, and so on. Do they all come from older manuscripts, as he claims, or did he add new ones?
Initially Kauder had translated several prayers into phonetic script. But then he noticed the use of hieroglyphs by some Mi’kmaq as well as the importance they attributed to them. He also saw old pages with hieroglyphs, maybe from manuals left over from Catholic priests of long ago. Quite early on, he decided to assemble the hieroglyphs as he noted how important they are to the individuals who own some sheets of them.
As indicated above, the Mi’kmaq with whom Kauder interacted were also part of Maillard’s group. A few handwritten pages remaining in museum collections are today attributed to Maillard. Kauder then decided to publish a complete compilation in the three volumes in hieroglyphics in one book. For this he was inspired by the Jesuit Eugene Vetromile, who worked in Maine among the Penobscot and published quite a bit of material that Kauder had used, as we have described above in detail.
In 1859, he wrote to Archbishop Gregor von Scherr of Munich and Freising that the money the Bishop Colin MacKinnon of Arichat received from the Ludwig-Missionsverein went entirely to his mission, and this continued to be the case until 1861.41 It was used, among other things, to pay a Native teacher, most likely the above-mentioned Michael Christmas, and for collecting material for a native hieroglyphic manuscript. He also announced that he would ask a sponsor in Vienna to pay for printing this manuscript as one book, even though it presented quite some challenges, seeing the number of hieroglyphs, which needed to be cut and cast in lead, namely 5,703!
Indeed, he had been collecting as many leaflets as he could from the old hieroglyphic books of his predecessor Maillard. He also wrote that they had been recopied numerous times, and the sheets had suffered from that. Nobody seemed to have a complete set. He went about to assemble a complete set, composed of three parts (“three bundles”): in the first one there is the small and large catechism as well as prayers; then the second volume, “Teachings and Contemplations”; and finally, the “Hymns.” Additionally, he calculated that copying them by hand would be too much work and not feasible. He had two complete prayer books hand-copied by Mi’kmaq. Two boys and two girls had the complete catechism and they used them to teach others. But he did not have enough money to pay them to do this full time. According to Kauder, one person also had a hymnal and he liked to sing, as did all the men and women. And he states that they had no other way of writing.
In a letter from 1859 to the archbishop of Munich and Freising, he wrote that Count Ludwig von Coudenhove in Vienna asked him to send the manuscript and that he would try to have it printed. He also noted that in the same month he would send a facsimile of hieroglyphs to Austria. His idea was to print enough copies for the 1,000 Mi’kmaq families and to use it for teaching in the catechism schools he wanted to set up.42 Only three years later, when describing the Mi’kmaq village of Pomquet, he wrote the following to Munich:
The old torn manuscripts were the only means according to God that kept them in their h[oly] faith. However, no family had anything whole. The Indians of Pomket were the poorest in this respect; and consequently the most ignorant. I have not found any who prayed the Pater Noster well; indeed, they do not even make the sign of the Holy Cross well. But now . . . most of them know their prayers. They also have among them two complete copies of the whole prayer book, which I had copied by two Indians. Some children also have the small catechism, and they copy it among themselves; some even on tree bark for lack of paper. It is astonishing how the little savages can write the hieroglyphs very accurately and quickly. 2 boys and 2 girls, whom I have taught myself, teach there on Sundays and holidays, and also sometimes during the week, using the two ex. If I had the means to pay them, the lessons could be run more vigorously. During the week they have to work for themselves in order to live.43
Hieroglyphic writing was not only used for the catechism but also for the production of hymn books, as Kauder further reports:
An old Indian called Sakali teaches. This old man has a wonderful voice and knows Indian singing well. He uses his hieroglyphic books. The savages love singing immensely, both the women and the men. The whole congregation sings during mass, vespers, etc. The Indian women, who are separated from the men in the church, take turns singing the Gloria, Credo, Psalms, etc. with them in their own language.44
These excerpts clearly show the central place that the hieroglyphs and the religious manuscripts hold in Mi’kmaq daily life. It is impressive to see that they were copied over and over again in the absence of European missionaries. It is also striking that the Mi’kmaq never chose to adhere to the religion of the new colonial masters of the land. Something very special must be contained within these hieroglyphs, and in this solidly established adherence to French Catholicism. Centuries after the French lost control of New France, the Catholic alliance with the Mi’kmaq still held strong. This explains probably why the initial “baptism” of Chief Membertou had taken on in the eyes of some Mi’kmaq the status of a Covenant, which in Catholic terminology would imply a relation between God and his people. This illustrates the depth of the relationship, beyond the factual lack of evidence. Further research will probably reveal more about this unique relationship between the Mi’kmaq and the Catholic Church. The hieroglyphs have become much more than just signs drawn on paper or birchbark. In the eyes of this author they represent the Mi’kmaq people, the result of cultural dynamics after centuries of European-Mi’kmaq interaction. This makes the printing of the book in Vienna by the Leopoldine Society such a key moment in Mi’kmaq history.
Christian Kauder and His Links to Austria
So, who was this generous Count Ludwig von Coudenhove? What was his link to Kauder? Graf Ludwig von Coudenhove was a member of a noble family of Flemish origin which had become influential at the Imperial Court in Vienna. As a matter of fact, a Coudenhove family member was among the founders of the Leopoldine Society, which we will describe later. Ludwig von Coudenhove was born in Verona in 1819, on January 4 or June 4. He was ordained on August 4, 1842, and professed a Redemptorist on March 18, 1843, in Eggenburg, Austria.
In 1845 both he and Kauder are listed as living in Baltimore at Saint Alphonsus, the Redemptorist house. In May 1845 he was listed at the same time as Kauder in Philadelphia at Saint Peter Apostle. While Coudenhove immediately received posts of responsibility and stayed in one place, as pastor and superior at Saint Peter’s from 1848 to 1853, Kauder was sent to a number of assignments, including in 1848 to New Orleans where he picked up a disease, probably yellow fever, and from where he returned within six months to Philadelphia, only to go to Rochester in November.45 In April 1851, he left Rochester for Baltimore on account of his poor health. His subsequent hospital stay in Detroit was interrupted by another mission, and finally the nuns discharged him due to his constant complaining. After a short stay in Monroe, he went to Baltimore where he asked to be released from the order. It only took six weeks for the procedure and on December 28, 1852, he was released.
In June 1853, Coudenhove returned to Vienna and continued his career as a Redemptorist, becoming rector in Vienna (1854 to June 1862) and later briefly in Leoben (1862). In Vienna he became a strong supporter of Kauder. Had he also played a role in 1855 when Kauder was accepted back as an oblate into the Redemptorist order by Father Superior Mauron? Most likely not. Kauder and Mauron were in contact over the years and exchanged numerous letters.
Could some of the money sent by the Leopoldine Society from 1858–1861 to the Redemptorists in the United States possibly have gone to Kauder? Our research has not found his name in any list. However, as an oblate he received financial support from Saint Vincent Abbey, annual mass stipends, on the direct instruction of Mauron. And the Leopoldine Society gave substantial amounts of money to Canadian provinces until 1861, again he could have indirectly benefited.46
We now know of two of Kauder’s sources of income, these mass stipends from his former order the Redemptorists, and of the money from the Ludwig-Missionsverein in Munich. Kauder had regularly received money from Bishop MacKinnon, who gave him most of the money he had received from the Ludwig-Missionsverein in Munich, until 1861. It is noteworthy that later the Leopoldine Society supported Bishop MacKinnon directly for at least two or three years.47
Here we also find correspondence relevant to the printing of the hieroglyphic book. In a letter to Archbishop Scherr, Kauder wrote that he expected support from Coudenhove. Indeed, he used the (indirect) money from Munich to prepare the hieroglyphics book, for collecting material among the Mi’kmaq and to pay for translations. In a letter to the same archbishop of Munich he wrote in 1862 that two of the three parts of the book had already been printed. This seems unlikely, maybe they were in the proofing stage. However, the complete book was only printed in 1866, even though Kauder’s introduction was dated to 1862. And another open question is whether Kauder visited Vienna on his trip to Europe in 1864. According to Lenhart, Kauder went to Vienna in 1864, and printing only started in 1865 and was completed in 1866.48 Coudenhove’s support was decisive.
Based on Kauder’s own writings and his itinerary, the sources and absence of mentions of Vienna, as well as the short time he spent in Europe, we conclude that this was most likely not the case. Kauder is documented having spent time in Rome, in Luxembourg, and in southern France. But why would he not go to Vienna, as in 1864 his book had not been published yet and he was awaiting its publication anxiously? One reason might be that his supportive former colleague, Coudenhove, had left Vienna in 1862 and moved to Leoben in southern Austria, where after only a few months he left his position of rector as well as the Redemptorist Order. Having received a formal dispensation of his vows from Rome, Coudenhove eventually returned to Vienna. Several years later he is listed as a “Chorherr,” a canon of Saint Stephen’s cathedral, like some of his family members before him.
All these indications lead us to conclude that it was Coudenhove alone who pushed the support for the printing of the hieroglyphic book. Kauder was extremely lucky to have found such a loyal friend who supported him well after he left the order. Even though, the two probably never met again after 1852.
The Role of the Leopoldine Society in the Printing of the Book
Based on our research, we have so far not found any other correspondence within the Leopoldine Society, nor between any mission supporters around the financing of the printing. Therefore, we had to look at the annual financial records of the Leopoldine Society. And there we were successful.
In the annual reports of the Leopoldine Society we found a payment in 1862 for 2,000 Austrian florins (fl) in cash for cutting the types (Schneiden der Matrizen) altogether 5,703 pieces, which were only used once for the printing of this unique book.49 The annual reports also list payments for 500fl as a first installment for the printing of the book on November 11, 1865.50 On March 20, 1866, another 500fl had been paid, as well as in early April 1866. Only on April 13, 1867, the final amount was paid; 509 fl and 15 kreuzer. This makes a total of 2,009 fl and 15 kreuzer. However, we find two more mentions in the annual financial reports, one indicating that the Comthur (administrator) Georg Schwarz had paid for the engraving of three steel plates as well as an earlier mention, documenting that 4,000 fl were reserved for Kauder for the printing of a prayer book, which seems to be close to the total paid of 4,009 fl and 15 kreuzer (the equivalent of approximately €65,000 today).51,52 Thus, the Leopoldine Society had printed one of the most elaborate and expensive books of the Native North American missions (see figs. 1 and 2).
“Der k.k. Staatsdruckerei für geschnittene Matrizen zu einem indian Gebetbuche” (To the k.k. printing house for cutting the matrices to an Indian prayer book): 2000 florins. Berichte der Leopoldinen-Stifting im Kaiserthume Österreich 32 (1862): 204, line 8. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/10454B8E.
“Der k.k. Staatsdruckerei für geschnittene Matrizen zu einem indian Gebetbuche” (To the k.k. printing house for cutting the matrices to an Indian prayer book): 2000 florins. Berichte der Leopoldinen-Stifting im Kaiserthume Österreich 32 (1862): 204, line 8. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/10454B8E.
“Vorschuss für Drucklegung des Mik-mak Gebetbuches” (Advance payment for the printing of the Mi’kmaq prayer book): 500 florins. Berichte der Leopoldinen-Stifting im Kaiserthume Österreich 36 (1866): 80, line 5. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/10454B8E.
“Vorschuss für Drucklegung des Mik-mak Gebetbuches” (Advance payment for the printing of the Mi’kmaq prayer book): 500 florins. Berichte der Leopoldinen-Stifting im Kaiserthume Österreich 36 (1866): 80, line 5. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/10454B8E.
The book itself starts with an elaborate dedication page to the Cardinal Archduke of Vienna Joseph Othmar von Rauscher, listing all his titles. The opposite page clearly states: “Upon the order of the Viennese Leopoldine Society Directorate, accomplished by their member Comthur Georg Schwarz etc.etc.etc.”53
It is followed by an introduction, dated October 2, 1862, written in Tracadie, four years before the printing. In it Kauder thanked the cardinal archbishop for the large expenditure he provided in his capacity as president of the Leopoldine Society to print this hieroglyphic book. Kauder most certainly thanked the Leopoldine Society by sending the Mi’kmaq objects, which we find today in the collection of the Viennese “Weltmuseum,” even though they are registered as being part of the Schwarz collection.54
Indeed, such an endeavor was quite rare in the nineteenth century. Sending a fragile manuscript across the Atlantic to his Redemptorist contact, who then gave it to the Imperial printing house, Kauder’s determination was exceptional. Exceptional was also the unique and personal link from an ex-Redemptorist to the Redemptorist rector in Vienna to the printing house. The sheer magnitude of the preparations for the printing, the production of the matrices, the enormous sum necessary over several years, the substantial delays did not stop the project, and this is quite an exceptional feat. It would not have been possible without the very generous support of the Leopoldine Society. There is no other book to compare it to in its importance for the Mi’kmaq.
How was the Book Received in North America?
Kauder himself wrote on June 3, 1867, from Saint Vincent Abbey in Pennsylvania to Father General Mauron in Rome of having received information from Bishop MacKinnon in Arichat about the arrival of eleven large boxes with his book.55 Some books had been printed on thin blue paper. At this point it remains impossible to estimate the exact number contained in those boxes.
One of our few sources about the echo the book received is the preface of the reprint of the hieroglyphic book in 1921.56 In it, John M. Lenhart, O.M. Cap. called it “the glory of the mission literature of the nineteenth century” and stated that “[t]he typographic workmanship is without a flaw,” but he noted mistakes based on Kauder’s incomplete knowledge of the Mi’kmaq language. He even quoted Kauder’s Baptist rival, Rev. Silas T. Rand, who estimated that it “is a marvel of literary skill and perseverance,” before criticizing its mistakes. Lenhart also wrote that it was sent immediately to the famous poet Longfellow.57 The German emigrant newspaper Central Zeitung in St. Louis wrote about its publication as well. So, it did become known in the world of the Catholic missions in North America and was quoted in a number of books on linguistics or on writing systems.
Title page, n.n. [Christian Kauder], Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. Wien: k. k. Buchdruckerei, 1866. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B.
Title page, n.n. [Christian Kauder], Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. Wien: k. k. Buchdruckerei, 1866. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B.
Printing Information, n.n. [Christian Kauder], Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. Wien: k. k. Buchdruckerei, 1866. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B.
Printing Information, n.n. [Christian Kauder], Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. Wien: k. k. Buchdruckerei, 1866. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B.
Lenhart further claims that in 1866 a first small batch of book copies made it to North America, while a larger shipment was shipwrecked, making the book rare and necessitating a reprint. According to a local who had one, the book was “strongly bound in leather, with a flap to go round them as a protection against moisture.”58
Dedication page, n.n. [Christian Kauder], Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. Wien: k. k. Buchdruckerei, 1866. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B.
Dedication page, n.n. [Christian Kauder], Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. Wien: k. k. Buchdruckerei, 1866. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B.
Mallory also documents the important work that Kauder did by having the book printed. He also states that he had not seen a complete edition of the three volumes, but rather individual volumes of each. He also compared them to the pictographs in Kejimkujik and could not identify two which were the same. He clearly believed they were of Catholic origin and did not attach any credibility to the indigenous origin of the hieroglyphs. His research proved the opposite. He writes that one elder told him that Kauder made the students learn each hieroglyph by copying it on the blackboard and memorizing it. Another Mi’kmaq elder Mallory talked to, could not identify an individual hieroglyph, but he needed to start at the beginning of the religious text, and recite it as one. He had hoped to find explanatory texts from Kauder but could not find any.59
Kauder Introduction: last page and date, n.n. [Christian Kauder], Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. Wien: k. k. Buchdruckerei, 1866. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B.
Kauder Introduction: last page and date, n.n. [Christian Kauder], Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. Wien: k. k. Buchdruckerei, 1866. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B.
Due to its importance, immediate plans for a reprint were formulated by the Capuchin Fathers in Restigouche, Québec, upon repeated request by the Mi’kmaq. Fortunately, at Saint Francis Xavier College in Antigonish, several original copies were conserved, one of which served as the basis for the reprint.60 However, it took time to find money from the Capuchin Fathers in the United States and from private donors and non-Catholics, such as the recognized Acadian scholar and Smith College professor William Francis Ganong, to finance the 1921 reprint.61 Ganong also underlines the importance of Kauder’s book for Mi’kmaq culture, having met Mi’kmaq elders in 1910 in Cape Breton and Prince Edward Island who could only read hieroglyphics.62 In a testimony to the uniqueness of the book, it remained unchanged except for English headings substituting the original French/German titles.
Band Drei (Volume 3) First page (page 5) n.n. [Christian Kauder], Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. Wien: k. k. Buchdruckerei, 1866. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B.
Band Drei (Volume 3) First page (page 5) n.n. [Christian Kauder], Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. Wien: k. k. Buchdruckerei, 1866. Source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B.
In the extensive correspondence between Capuchin fathers Lenhart and Pacifique leading up to the reprint, they are documenting their research for more information about Kauder, his letters, his correspondence with others, as well as reviews of his book in German Catholic periodicals of the time. Their efforts span across North America and Europe.63
This book received remarkable praise from the former typesetter for foreign languages of the Hof- und Staatsdruckerei (1855–1859), Carl Faulmann, who in 1880 published a book about the history of writing. He included a chapter about the Mi’kmaq hieroglyphs, which he deemed worthy of more research, and suggested contacting the Mi’kmaq “who hold the key to it” for further study. Faulmann underlines the important role the Leopoldine Society had in supporting this printing. He even suggested using the matrices of the 5,701 (two fewer!) letters for printing a grammar and a vocabulary. He also wrote that he succeeded in contacting Kauder, whom he located in a hospital in Belgium, but who never lived up to a promise to provide more details.64
Johannes Thauren writes in 1940 that two books were deposited in the Imperial library and that during his research for his book, he found the correspondence between the Leopoldine Society and the Imperial printing house in which the latter requested only to be paid the expenses for printing. He writes that he also found the manuscript and the dedication book for Archbishop Rauscher. Those documents are invaluable, he writes, and they are unique as he claims that all books were destroyed in a shipwreck.65 So far none of this material has been found, and his last assertion has been proven wrong by the fact that books did arrive and circulated.66 Originals can be found in the Austrian National Library, the Weltmuseum in Vienna, and a few places in North America. The Weltmuseum also holds in its library a bound book of 220 pages of proofs containing all 5,703 hieroglyphs.
Throughout history, the hieroglyphs have been important to the Mi’kmaq. Kauder must have understood their importance for the Native people. Some of his books are still used by the Mi’kmaq and are considered family treasures. They are much more than religious instruction manuals, they link the Mi’kmaq to their ancestors, to their past and to their own culture, independent of the religious meaning. This book has played a crucial role in keeping the Mi’kmaq spoken language alive through the hieroglyphs.
Today individual teachers and educators are trying to teach the hieroglyphs and to revive their use. They never disappeared from view and have been used constantly in mass. In the last decades they have become more and more a visible symbol of Mi’kmaq identity, books have been written by Mi’kmaq about their meaning and artists have taken them to reappropriate their Mi’kmaq origin.67 Posters, wall hangings, and other items are decorated with individual symbols or prayers. They have also become a decorative sales item, thereby taking on a new life of their own away from Catholic religion.
The hieroglyphics book played an important role in standardizing and codifying them. Today there is only one way to write the hieroglyphs, thanks to this printed book. The hieroglyphs themselves have even taken on a life well beyond their historical origin and use, thanks to Kauder’s initiative and to the support of the Leopoldine Society, which organized and financed its printing in Vienna.
Notes
I would like to thank Dr. Christian Feest for drawing my attention to Kauder, who became the focus of my PhD thesis.
The Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer (Congregatio Sanctissimi Redemptoris; CSsR), known as Redemptorists are a Catholic order founded by Alphonsus Liguori in 1732 at Scala in the Kingdom of Naples for the poor rural population in the hills above Naples. They soon expanded into Austria and Germanic lands. Priests and brothers left for North America to do parish work among Catholic immigrants from the Austrian Empire and the German States and soon set up missions among the Indigenous population.
I have been working with ethnographic documents, published and unpublished, which were prepared by Catholic priests and destined for the church hierarchy and/or for pious donors with the aim of collecting funds to continue the mission activities. Often these reports would be printed and published in newspapers or mission newsletters. I am fully aware that the terminology and the orientation of the writings done in those days for a specific Catholic public are not appropriate in today’s world. They should be seen in their historic contexts. However, to alter them into today’s language would be to falsify the documents. Some of the actions by a Catholic missionary which resulted in the further destruction of the Mi’kmaq religion, culture, and traditions are being described in detail. They allow us to partially understand today’s situation of the Mi’kmaq and the challenges they face to reconnect with their past. It is ironic that in order to partially document a traditional culture, we are consulting the writings of those who set out to change and destroy them.
The so-called Mi’kmaq hieroglyphs are derived from pictographic symbols found at different places throughout Mi’kma’ki. I will use this historically established term, without quotation marks throughout this article. For a general orientation, see Carlo Krieger, “Religionswandel bei den Micmac: Ein Beitrag zur Anwendung der historischen Methode” (PhD diss., Universität Wien, 2002); Krieger, “Culture Change in the Making: Some Examples of How a Catholic Missionary Influenced Micmac Religion,” American Studies International 40, no. 2 (2002): 37–56; Krieger, “Christian Kauder, ein Luxemburger Missionar bei den Micmac-Indianern in Kanada,” in Le Luxembourg et l’Etranger: Présences et Contacts, ed. Jean-Claude Muller and Frank Wilhelm (Luxembourg: SESAM, 1987). This article draws mostly on my unpublished PhD thesis as well as several published articles.
Harald E. L. Prins, The Mi’kmaq: Resistance, Accommodation, and Cultural Survival (Fort Worth, TX: Harcourt Brace College, 1996); Philip Bock, “Micmac,” in Northeast, ed. Bruce G. Trigger (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution, 1978), 109–22; Leslie F. S. Upton, Micmacs and Colonists: Indian-White Relations in the Maritimes, 1713–1867 (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1979); Marcel Trudel, Histoire de la Nouvelle-France, vol. 1, Les vaines tentatives, 1524–1603 (Montreal: Fides, 1963); Trudel, Histoire de la Nouvelle-France, vol. 2, Le comptoir, 1604–1627 (Montreal: Fides, 1966).
Daniel N. Paul, We Were Not the Savages (Halifax: Nimbus, 1993); Georges E. Sioui, Pour une histoire amérindienne de l’Amérique (Laval: Les Presses de l’Université Laval, 1999).
For details, see Luca Codignola, “The Holy See and the Conversion of the Indians in French and British North America, 1486–1760,” in America in European Consciousness, 1493–1750, ed. Karen Ordahl Kupperman (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press for the Institute of Early American History and Culture, 1995), 195–242; Codignola, “Competing Network: Roman Catholic Ecclesiastics in French North America, 1610–1658,” in The Canadian Historical Review 80, no. 4 (1999): 540–84; Matteo Binasco, French Missionaries in Acadia/Nova Scotia, 1654–1755: On a Risky Edge (Basingstoke: Palgrave MacMillan, 2022).
Lucien Campeau, S.J., La première mission d’Acadie (1602–1616) (Québec: La Presse de l’Université de Laval, 1967).
James Youngblood Henderson, The Míkmaw Concordat (Halifax: Fernwood, 1997).
Their traditions have lived on until today with, among others, the Gaelic College at St. Ann’s, NS.
Angus Anthony Johnston, A History of the Catholic Church in Eastern Nova Scotia, 2 vols. (Antigonish: St. Francis Xavier Press, 1960); Terrence Murphy, “James Jones and the Establishment of Roman Catholic Church Government in the Maritime Provinces,” in CCHA Study Sessions 48 (1981): 26–42; Murphy, “Priests, People and Polity: Trusteeism in the First Catholic Congregation at Halifax, 1785–1801,” in Religion and Identity: The Experience of Irish and Scottish Catholics in Atlantic Canada, ed. Terrence Murphy and C. J. Byrne (St John’s: Jesperson Press, 1987), 68–80; Karly Kehoe, Empire and Emancipation: Scottish and Irish Catholics at the Atlantic Fringe, 1780–1850 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2022).
Christian Kauder, Buch das gut, enthaltend den Katechismus, Betrachtung, Gesang. (Vienna: k.u.k. Buchdruckerei, 1866), http://data.onb.ac.at/rep/104F617B; see figures 5–7.
The Trappists, a Catholic religious order, officially known as the Order of Cistercians of the Strict Observance, are a branch of the Cistercians and follow the Benedictine rules. Also see Johnston, History of the Catholic Church in Eastern Nova Scotia, vol. 2.
See Binasco, French Missionaries, 151–71.
It has not yet been possible to document precisely the complete movements of Kauder.
Kauder’s personal file in the Archive of the Redemptorist Generalate in Rome.
“Während ich mich in Neu-Schottland in gänzlicher Zurückgezogenheit befand; von dem täglichen Messtipendium, das mir die Congregation des allerh. Erlösers, der ich nicht genug danken kann, zusendet, lebend, wurde ich mit dem indianischen Stamme, den man die Micmac nennet, und welche diese Gegend bewohnen, bekannt.” Christian Kauder, “Tracadie den 19. Okt. 1857,” in Luxemburger Wort, November 25, 1857.
They were referred to as “Souriquois” in the first French reports. Marc Lescarbot, The History of New France (1609–1612), 3 vols. (Toronto: Champlain Society, 1911–1914); Lescarbot, “La conversion des sauvages qui ont este baptisez en la Nouvelle France, cette année 1610,” in Campeau, Lucien Monumenta Novæ Franciæ (Québec: Les Presses de l’Université Laval, 1967), 1:60–93.
More in Bruce Greenfeld, “The Mi’kmaq Hieroglyphic Prayer Book: Writing and Christianity in Maritime Canada, 1675–1921,” in The Language Encounter in the Americas, 1492–1800: A Collection of Essays, ed. Edward G. Gray and Norman Fiering (New York: Berghahn, 2000), 189–229.
Pierre (Antoine Simon) Maillard, “Lettre (à Madame de Drucourt) de M. L’Abbé Maillard sur les missions de l’Acadie et particulièrement sur les missions Micmaques (c. 1754),” Les Soirées Canadiennes 3 (1863): 289–426.
Prins, The Mi’kmaq, 121.
Beamish Murdoch, A History of Nova Scotia or Acadie, vol. 2 (Halifax: James Barnes, 1866); John G. Reid, Acadia, Maine and New Scotland (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1982); Nicolas Landry and Père Anselme Chiasson, “Histoire de l’Acadie,” in L’Encyclopédie Canadienne, last modified November 23, 2020, https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/fr/article/histoire-de-lacadie.
Christian Kauder, “Tracadie, den 11. Sept. 1858,” in Luxemburger Wort, October 17, 1858.
“Es gibt über 1200 Familien Indianer in dieser Provinz, die vor vielen Jahren von französischen Missionären bekehrt wurden. . . . Obgleich sie das Glück haben, Kinder der wahren Kirche zu sein, so sind sie seit vielen Jahren gänzlich vernachlässiget und verlassen. Sie haben keinen Priester, und es gibt keinen einzigen, der ihre wilde Sprache spricht. Diejenigen, die ihre jährliche Beichte noch ablegen, oder in gefährlichen Krankheiten sich befinden, bedienen sich eines Dollmetschers, der oft selbst nur wenig verdollmetschen kann. Sie können sich leicht vorstellen, meine Herren, welch eine große Unwissenheit unter diesen armen Indianern herrscht, indem sie ohne allen Religionsunterricht aufwachsen, und keine Schule, nicht einmal eine kathechetische (I) Schule für die armen Kinder unter ihnen sich befindet. In Folge dessen haben sich mehrere Laster eingeschlichen, vorzüglich das Trinken, was mehrere unglücklich macht, und sie vor der Zeit tödtet. Sie vertauschen die Felle der erlegten Thiere für Branntwein an die Amerikaner und vertrinken, was ihnen zur nothwendigen Nahrung dienen sollte. Jedoch sind sie alle sehr anhänglich an unsere h. Religion. Während meiner Kränklichkeit kam einer ihrer Anführer zu mir, und bat mich doch zu ihnen zu kommen, um ihnen den Weg zum Himmel zu zeigen und ihre Kinder zu unterrichten” (Kauder, “Tracadie den 19. Okt. 1857,” 2).
Vetromile was active from 1848–1881 in Maine.
“Ich habe dem Hochw. Pater Eugène Vetromile aus der Gesellschaft Jesu viel zu verdanken. . . . Und da er im Besitze eines alten Micmac-Manuscripte ist, so hatte er die Güte, mehrere Sachen für die Micmacs in sein Buch aufzunehmen. Er hat es mir soeben zugeschickt.” (Kauder, “Tracadie, den 11. Sept. 1858,” 2–3).
“Kejimkujik National Park and National Historic Site,” Parks Canada, Government of Canada, modified February 27, 2023, https://parks.canada.ca/pn-np/ns/kejimkujik/culture/histoire-history; and “Petroglyphs, Kejimkujik National Park and National Historic Site,” Parks Canada, Government of Canada, modified May 3, 2024, https://parks.canada.ca/pn-np/ns/kejimkujik/culture/autochtone-indigenous/petroglyphes-petroglyphs.
Handwritten letter from Christian Kauder to the archbishop of Munich-Freising, February 21, 1862, p. 7, Ludwig-Missionsverein Archive, Munich (see fig. 4).
Kauder to the archbishop of Munich-Freising, February 21, 1862.
Silas T. Rand, Dictionary of the Language of the Micmac Indians (Halifax: Nova Scotia Printing Company, 1888; repr., Laurier Publications: Ottawa, 1994); Rand, Legends of the Micmacs, ed. Helen L. Webster (New York: Longmans, Green,1894).
Kauder, “Tracadie, den 11. Sept. 1858.”
Ibid.
Handwritten letter from Christian Kauder to the archbishop of Munich-Freising, February 28, 1862, Ludwig-Missionsverein Archive, Munich.
Christian Kauder, “Schreiben des Herrn Missionars . . .,” Annalen der Verbreitung des Glaubens 28 (1860): 182–85.
Linguists contest the dynamic nature of the script by classifying it as purely mnemonic at best. For others it is representing words or morphemes, a logographic script. This is the difference between pictographs and “hieroglyphs.”
John Gilmary Shea, “Micmac or Recollect Hieroglyphics,” in The Historical Magazine, and Notes and Queries concerning the Antiquities, History, and Biography of America, vol. 5, no. 10 (New York: Richardson, 1861).
“Es ist meine Meinung, dass die Hieroglyphen von den Indianern selbst herkommen; dass die ersten Missionäre sie unter ihnen fanden, u. dass sie sich derselben bedienten, um sie in den Wahrheiten unserer h. Religion zu unterrichten. Es unterliegt keinem Zweifel, dass sie dieselben vermehrt und vervollkomnet haben. Wären die Wilden mit derselben nicht bekannt gewesen, was hätte sie bewogen solche schwierigen Zeichen, die die sie selbst erlernen mussten, unter sich einzuführen?” (Kauder to the archbishop of Munich-Freising, February 28, 1862).
Ibid., 3.
David L. Schmidt and Murdena Marshall, Mi’kmaq Hieroglyphic Prayers (Halifax: Nimbus Publishing, 1995).
Père Pacifique de Valigny, “Avant-propos,” in Sapeoig Oigatigen . . . New Edition of Father Kauder’s Book Published in 1866 (Restigouche, QC: The Micmac Messenger, 1921), i–ii; Pierre Déléage, “L’écriture attachée des Mi’kmaq, 1677–1912,” in Acadiensis no. 42–41 (2013): 3–36. Accessed July 5, 2024 from https://journals.lib.unb.ca/index.php/Acadiensis/article/view/20288.
Kauder to the archbishop of Munich-Freising, February 28, 1862.
The Ludwig-Missionsverein was a Bavarian mission society created by King Ludwig I around the same time and with a similar aim as the Leopoldine Society, and it was the major contributor to the American Redemptorists.
“Ich schrieb dem Herrn Grafen Ludwig von Coudenhor[v]en in Wien. Er benachrichtigte mich, es ihm zu senden, er werde vielleicht erwirken können, es zum Heile der Micmai dem Drucke zu übergeben. Es ist nun, Gott sei Dank, vollendet, und es wird in diesem Monat nach Oesterreich gesandt. Dieses Buch ist sehr nothwendig für diese wilde Mission, die an 1000 Familien zählt, welche weit und breit in den Wäldern leben. Sie kennen keine andere Schrift, als die der Hieroglyphen. Ich konnte nie mit Gewissheit erfahren, wie die Hieroglyphen unter sie gekommen. Sie stehen bei ihnen in großer Verehrung” (Kauder to the archbishop of Munich-Freising, 1859)
“Die alten zerrissenen Manuskripte waren das einzige Mittel nach Gott, das sie in ihrem h. Glauben erhielt. Jedoch keine Familie hatte etwas ganzes. Die Indianer von Pomket waren die ärmsten in dieser Hinsicht; u folglich auch die unwissendsten. Ich habe keinen gefunden, der das Pater Noster gut betete; ja nicht einmal das h. Kreuzzeichen machen sie gut. Jetzt aber . . . kennen die meisten ihre Gebete. Sie haben auch unter sich zwei vollständige Exemplare des ganzen Gebetbuches, das ich von 2 Indianern abschreiben ließ. Auch besitzen einige Kinder den kleinen Katechismus, u sie schreiben ihn unter sich ab; einige sogar auf Baumrinden aus Mangel an Papier. Es ist zum Erstaunen, wie die kleinen Wilden die Hieroglyphen sehr genau und schnell schreiben können. 2 Buben und 2 Mädchen, die ich selbst unterrichtet habe lehren dort an den Sonn= u Feiertagen, u auch manchmal in der Woche, indem sie sich der zwei Ex. bedienen. Wenn ich die Mittel hätte sie zu bezahlen, so könnte der Unterricht kräftiger betrieben werden. In der Woche müssen sie für sich selbst arbeiten, um leben zu können” (Kauder to the archbishop of Munich-Freising, February 21, 1862). All translations from German are mine unless otherwise indicated.
“Ein alter Indianer, Namens Sakali unterrichtet. Dieser Alte hat eine herrliche Stimme, und kennt den indianischen Gesang gut. Er bedient sich dazu seiner Hieroglyphen Bücher. Die Wilden lieben den Gesang ungemein, sowohl die Weiber, als die Männer. Die ganze Versammlung singt während der h. Messe, Vesper u.s.w. Die Indianerinnen, die in der Kirche von den Männern getrennt sind, singen abwechselnd mit ihnen das Gloria, Credo, Psalmen, etc. in ihrer Sprache” (ibid.).
Coudenhove himself received support from the Leopoldine Society for travel in 1844 (500 florins) and 1860 (600 florins). Some of this money was from relatives who were strong supporters of the Society and sat on its board. See Gertrude Kummer, Die Leopoldinen-Stiftung (1829–1914): Der älteste österreichische Missionsverein (Vienna: Wiener Dom-Verlag, 1966). See also Kauder’s personal files at the Redemptorist Archives in Rome and in Vienna.
Kummer, Leopoldinen-Stiftung, 172.
Berichte der Leopoldinen-Stiftung im Kaiserthume Österreich 41 (1871): 79.
John M. Lenhart, “Preface,” in Sapeoig Oigatigen . . . New Edition of Father Kauder’s Book Published in 1866 (Restigouche, P.Q.: The Micmac Messenger, 1921), x.
“The procedure used is called punchcutting; the punches of the glyphs are cut, with which the dies are struck in metal and in which the types are then cast” (Dr. Christian Feest, pers. comm., February 29, 2024).
“B. Ausgaben in Österr. Währung,” Berichte 36 (1866): 80; and 32 (1862): 204.
This confirms that there were three (or actually four) editions: all three parts together, only the catechism, the catechism and the meditation, and only the hymn. Pilling has documented these variants with different title pages. James Constantine Pilling, “Bibliography of the Algonquian Languages,” Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 13 (1892): 275 (Dr. Christian Feest, pers. comm., February 29, 2024).
“Historischer Währungsrechner,” Finanzbildung durch die Oesterreichische Nationalbank, accessed June 23, 2024, https://www.eurologisch.at/docroot/waehrungsrechner/#/.
“Im Auftrage der Wiener Leopoldinen-Stiftungs-Direction, bewerkstelligt durch deren Mitglied Comthur Georg Schwarz etc.etc.etc.”
Krieger, “Christian Kauder,” 108, 113–14. They are two miniature canoes, a tray and a flat plate, the latter decorated with the 8-pointed star symbol KAGWET. See figures.
Letter of Christian Kauder to the general of the Redemptorist Order in Rome, June 3, 1867, personal file, Redemptorist Archives, Rome.
John M. Lenhart, “Preface,” in Sapeoig Oigatigen . . . New Edition of Father Kauder’s Book Published in 1866 (Restigouche, Q.C.: The Micmac Messenger, 1921), v–xii.
These books were on sale by an antique bookstore for an impressive price.
Lenhart, “Preface,” xi.
Garrick Mallory, “Picture Writing of the American Indians,” in Tenth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology 1888–’89, ed. J. W. Powell (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1893), 666–72.
Pacifique de Valigny, “Avant-propos,” 10–11.
William F. Ganong was a Canadian academic known among other things for translating and publishing Christian Leclerq and Nicolas Denys’s seventeenth-century Acadian reports in the Champlain Society. An expert on the Acadian period, he also wrote about Samuel de Champlain.
William F. Ganong, “Introduction, Study and Biography, with bibliographical notes . . .,” in New Relation of Gaspesia with the Customs and Religion of the Gaspesian Indians by Father Christian Le Clercq, ed. William F. Ganong, (Toronto: Champlain Society, 1910).
Thanks to David Schmidt for copies of these letters from the Archives Acadiennes at the Université de Moncton.
Carl Faulmann, Das Buch der Schrift enthaltend die Schriften und Alphabete aller Zeiten und aller Völker des Erdkreises (Vienna: Druck und Verlag der Kaiserlich-Königlichen Hof- und Staatsdruckerei, 1880), 232–34.
Johannes Thauren, Ein Gnadenstrom zur Neuen Welt und seine Quelle (Vienna-Mödling: Druck und Verlag der Missionsdruckerei St. Gabriel, 1943), 134.
See above.
The contemporary multimedia artist Michelle Silliboy, whose ancestor was a Grand Chief, has embarked on a project to return the hieroglyphs to the original Mi’kmaq meaning by analyzing and transcribing them with the help of native speakers who can still read them.