JACQUES CARTIER.
Verrazano told such wonderful stories of America that many other
Frenchmen felt a desire to go and see the country for themselves and
find out if the stories were true. But some years passed before any new
expedition was sent out, and even then it was only undertaken because
the French became jealous of the power that Spain was getting in the New
World.
Spain already claimed Mexico, Peru, Florida, and the Pacific, and all at
once the French king became alarmed and asked if God had created the new
countries for Castilians (Spaniards) alone! His courtiers hastened to
tell him no, indeed, and that France had as good a right as any other
country to own and settle America. And so Verrazano was sent out, and
after him, ten years later, came Jacques Cartier, who left the fort of
St. Malo in April, 1534.
[Illustration: JACQUES CARTIER FINDS NEWFOUNDLAND INHOSPITABLE.]
The ships sailed across the Atlantic, taking a more northerly course
than usual, and in twenty days reached Newfoundland. Cartier coasted
along until he reached the Straits of Belle Isle, which he passed
through and entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and then sailed leisurely
along the western coast of Newfoundland. But much to his disappointment
the country was not beautiful and pleasant, as he had heard, but, on the
contrary, very dismal and inhospitable. The fertile valleys and green
fields that Verrazano had spoken of were nowhere to be seen, but instead
only rocks and stones, and wild rough coasts.
The natives were very savage in appearance and not very friendly; and
Cartier made a very short stay here, and steered across the Gulf to a
bay on the opposite side, where he found the natives also in poor
condition, living on raw fish and flesh, without clothing, and using
their upturned canoes as houses. But the country itself was much
pleasanter than that on the opposite side of the Gulf, and so Cartier
decided to take possession of it. Accordingly he called all his company
together, and with great ceremony raised a huge cross and claimed the
whole region for the King of France.
The natives had all gathered round and stood looking on curiously. There
stood the cross, thirty feet high, carved with three fleur-de-lys, and
the inscription, "Vive le Roi de France;" and not at all understanding
what right these strangers had to their country, the chief and his
principal men told Cartier, as well as they could by signs, that they
would much rather he should take the cross down again and go away with
his ships and leave them in peace. And Cartier explained to them in turn
that the king he served was very powerful and rich, and able to send
many soldiers and take the land by force if he so wished; but that also
he was a very kind and loving king, and wanted to do all that he could
for the Indians, and that the very best thing that could happen to them
would be to have some Frenchmen come there and settle and teach them the
arts of peace.
And then he gave them some trifling presents, some strings of glass
beads, and yards of bright calico, and bits of colored glass, and
shining penknives, and the Indians were so impressed by these gifts
that, partly from a desire to obtain more, and partly through fear of
the great unknown king, they not only let the cross remain standing, but
what was much more, the chief consented to let his two sons go back to
France with Cartier, and see for themselves the riches and power of his
country and king.
And so the two Indian boys sailed away with these white strangers, and
learned stranger things than they had ever dreamed of. Never before had
they been farther away from land than they could go in a day's journey
in their birch bark canoes; but now, as they stood on the deck of this
great ship, and saw the land fade from their sight, and the great,
boundless sea all around stretch away and away until it met the sky, and
the sun drop down into the water and redden its glossy waves, it was all
so different from what they had been used to that their hearts grew
sick with longing for home and the fear that they had sailed into a new
world and left their friends forever. But by and by, as the familiar
stars came out, and the moon's friendly face appeared, and the night
came softly down on the sea, the ship ceased to seem so strange and
looked very comfortable and pleasant, and when the morning came they did
not look backward, but only forward, to that mysterious France toward
which they were sailing, and which they reached after a pleasant voyage
early in September.
Cartier had been gone four months, and his account of his voyage was so
encouraging that it was decided to send out another expedition as soon
as the winter was over. The Indian lads were well received at the French
court. The king was very kind and condescending and generous, and told
them that it would be his greatest pleasure to send over some of his
subjects, and make all the Indians Christians. And the two boys,
Taignoagny and Domagaia, looked at the silk and velvet robes of the
French nobles, and at the diamonds and rubies that glittered in their
sword-hilts, and at the king's beautiful palaces, and the marble
cathedrals and splendid mansions of Paris, and decided that to be a
Christian must be indeed a happy lot, and expressed their willingness to
have their whole tribe converted as speedily as possible.
Their whole visit was a succession of wonders and delights, for France
was more beautiful even than their wildest dreams of their own "happy
hunting-grounds," where it was supposed that the Indians had everything
they could desire. But what Canadian Indians had ever dreamed of such a
land as this, with its fields of flowers, and miles of ripened grain,
and sunny slopes purple with luscious grapes? Even the winter was
pleasant, with but little snow and ice outside, and warm, comfortable
rooms inside. Very different from their own winter, where the snow lay
thick on the ground for months, and the rivers and lakes were frozen,
and the pines and balsams hung thick with icicles whose musical tinkling
seemed like a sad song for the summer that was gone. Yes, Cartier had
told the truth, his king was very powerful and rich and great, and when
the spring came and another fleet left St. Malo, Taignoagny and Domagaia
were quite in love with France, and very eager for the voyage to be
over, so that they could tell their friends all the wonderful things
they had seen there.
Cartier and his companions were in fine spirits, for the voyage promised
to be a fair one, and they were all sure that honor and wealth awaited
them in the New World. In August they arrived at the Gulf of St.
Lawrence, and passing Anticosti Island entered the mouth of a great
river. Taignoagny and Domagaia said that the name of this river was
Hochelaga, and that it came from a far distant country, and was so long
that no man had ever seen the beginning of it. Cartier listened to this
story with interest; the stream was so broad and deep that he thought
perhaps it was not a river at all, but a strait, and that he had at last
discovered the long looked-for passage to the East. But the Indians told
him that as they went up the river it became narrower, and its waters
changed from salt to fresh, and then Cartier saw that it could not be
the wished-for strait, and so made no haste to follow its course.
He sailed slowly up the great river, which is now known as the St.
Lawrence, examining the country on either side, and looking for a good
place to spend the winter. He passed the Saguenay, and some distance
beyond anchored at an island called by him _Isle-aux-Coudres_, because
of the abundance of hazels, and after a short stay here, sailed still
farther on and stopped at another island, which abounded in grapes and
which he called Bacchus Island--now known as the Isle d'Orleans. Here he
received a visit from the natives, a large number of whom had come from
the shore in canoes to look at these white visitors.
Cartier invited them on board his ship, but they were afraid to come
very near until Taignoagny and Domagaia appeared, and assured them there
was no danger, and that the Frenchmen were friends. The Indians were
rejoiced to see their two young countrymen again, and came crowding
aboard the ships to hear their wonderful stories about France.
Donnacona, the chief, made a long speech, in which he offered his
friendship to Cartier and thanked him for his kindness to his young
countrymen, and then kissed his hand and placed his arms about his neck
in token of gratitude and trust, and then he invited Cartier and his men
to his own home at Stadacona, a little village which stood where now
stands the beautiful city of Quebec. The village stood on the cliffs,
high above the river, which flowed beneath, and which formed there a
pleasant and safe harbor for the ships. So Cartier accepted Donnacona's
invitation and they all went to Stadacona, and spent some time there
very pleasantly, getting acquainted with the Indians and learning their
mode of living, listening to their stories of bear and deer hunts, and
their accounts of snow-shoeing and tobogganing, and expeditions up the
river and into the great forests all around.
Particularly they liked to dwell upon their battles with another great
chief who lived farther up the river. This was Hochelaga, after whom the
river was named, and who was the most powerful chieftain in the
country. Donnacona was very jealous of him, and was therefore much
surprised and grieved when one day Cartier said that he had made up his
mind to go and pay Hochelaga a visit.
In vain Donnacona tried to make him believe that the way was long and
dangerous, and that Hochelaga would probably take him prisoner and treat
him and his men very cruelly. Cartier was all the more resolved to go.
And then Donnacona resolved to play a trick upon him, and see if he
could not frighten him from going to Hochelaga, and so keep all the
shining looking-glasses and knives, and bright basins, and pretty glass
beads for himself and his own people, for he could not bear to think
that any of this wealth should fall into his rival's hands. So one
afternoon, as Cartier and his friends stood looking over the sides of
their ship, they saw a most horrible sight. A canoe pushed out from
shore and approached the vessel. It was paddled by some disguised
natives, and in it were three Indian devils. And dreadful devils they
were--the Frenchmen had certainly never imagined such a kind before.
Their faces were as black as soot, and they were dressed in black and
white hogskins, and wore horns more than a yard long on their heads. And
as they neared the ship they shouted and yelled in a very diabolical
manner, and altogether acted as much like devils as they knew how. And
crowds of natives followed them down to the bank, shrieking and howling
and throwing up their hands, and then rushing back to the woods as if in
great fright. Taignoagny and Domagaia, who stood by Cartier's side, also
threw up their hands, and looking toward heaven declared that these
devils had come from Hochelaga, and that the god Cudruaigny had sent
them to warn the French that all who attempted to visit Hochelaga should
perish on the way, for Cudruaigny would send snow-storms, and
ice-storms, and cold piercing blasts from the north, and the French
would all die miserably of cold and exposure.
But the French only laughed at the devils, and called Cudruaigny a
"noddy," and said they had received word from heaven that the weather
would be fair, and that they would all be defended from the cold, and so
the Indian devils, who were no match for French priests, turned back to
the shore, and the natives, giving three loud shrieks in token of their
defeat, took the devils in their midst and began a wild dance on the
beach; and the next day, when Cartier started for Hochelaga, they sent
their good wishes with him, and promised protection to those who
remained behind.
For days and days Cartier sailed along the beautiful banks of the great
river, stopping now and then to enter the great forests which were full
of all kinds of game, or to gather the wild grapes that hung full on
every side; and everywhere the natives came down to the beach and
greeted them pleasantly, and when they reached Hochelaga they found a
great crowd of Indians waiting to receive them and lead them to their
village. Cartier and his companions put on their velvet mantles, and
plumed hats, and dazzling swords, and marched on with great pomp,
followed by the admiring crowd.
The village was very pleasantly situated; in front flowed the shining
waters of the Hochelaga, which was nearly a mile wide at that point, and
behind, like a protecting spirit, stood the beautifully wooded mountain
which Cartier called Mount Royal, a name which it still bears. The
village itself stood in the midst of great fields of Indian corn, ripe
for gathering, surrounded by palisades for defence against hostile
tribes. There were about fifty huts, that of the chief being the
largest, and situated in the centre near the great public square, where
all the people now gathered and looked with wonder and reverence on
these new-comers. And the mothers brought their little children in their
arms, and begged that these white strangers would touch them, thinking
in some strange way that even the touch of these wonderful visitors
would bring blessing with it. They were quite ready to believe that
these white men came from a land richer and greater than their own;
indeed they would have believed that they came from heaven itself if
Cartier had told them so, for all the Indians always worshipped
beautiful objects, and they thought that men whose skin was soft and
white, and who wore such rich clothing, must belong in some great land
where men were nobler and better than poor half-clothed races like their
own.
And so they brought their sick king and laid him down before Cartier,
and asked him to touch him and heal him, and Cartier knelt down and
rubbed the king's useless limbs and prayed over him; but more than that
he could not do. But the sight of the kneeling Christians, and the sound
of their prayers uttered to an unseen God, filled the Indians with awe:
they too knelt down and looked toward heaven, and made the sign of the
cross, and prayed as well as they knew how, that the strangers' God
would pity them and heal their sick and lame and blind.
King Agouhanna then gave his crown of porcupine quills to Cartier as a
token of gratitude, and as this was the only thing of the least value
that the poor chief possessed, Cartier accepted it with great courtesy,
and in return presented the tribe with some of those brass rings and
brooches and beads and knives that Donnacona had tried in vain to keep
for himself. And these made the Indians wild with joy, and so altogether
the visit of the Frenchmen was a great success, and when they returned
to Stadacona they told such stories of the kindness and good-will of the
Indians at Hochelaga that Donnacona was quite devoured with jealousy and
hated his rival more than ever.
The French built a fort now, and got ready to spend the winter
comfortably, and their preparations were made none too soon, for in a
few weeks the river had frozen over, and the ships lay buried in snow,
and the strangers began to see a Canadian winter for themselves and
judge how they liked it. Although very different from any winter they
had ever spent before, it might have been a pleasant one had not a
terrible disease broken out among the Indians, which soon spread to the
French camp. In a short time twenty-four of Cartier's men had died, and
the rest were all sick but three.
Cartier became afraid that the Indians would attack the fort and destroy
his men, if they learned of their weakness, so he ordered them to keep
away, and whenever any of them came near he had his men beat against the
sides of their berths with sticks and hammers, so that the Indians would
think they were at work. But the Indians, instead of meaning harm,
thought only of doing good. As soon as they learned that the French had
taken the disease they came to them and offered their own remedies, and
tried in every way to be of use. The squaws brought to the camp the
boughs of a certain tree and taught the French how to prepare tea from
the bark and leaves, and this medicine was so powerful that in a few
days all the sick became well, not only those who were suffering from
this disease, but also those who were afflicted with any other malady.
It is not known exactly what this tree was; it may have been the
sassafras, or possibly the spruce; but whatever it was it cured the sick
and the French were very grateful, and said that all the physicians in
France could not have done as much in a year as these Indian squaws
accomplished in one day by means of this wonderful medicine.
The French made a very cruel return for all the kindness they had
received from their dark-skinned friends, for in the spring, when
Cartier left Canada, he carried with him the good chief Donnacona and
nine of his countrymen as prisoners to France. It was a very wicked and
treacherous thing to do, for Cartier had invited the chief and his men
on board the ships to take part in a feast that was being given in honor
of his departure; but as soon as he saw that the Indians were in his
power he gave orders for the ship to sail, and so Donnacona and his
friends were carried away from their relatives, who stood crying and
begging for mercy on the bank of the river, and that was the way the
French left Canada and its friendly people, who had shown them nothing
but kindness and trust.
It was not usual for Frenchmen to treat Indians in this way, for of all
the Europeans who came to America the French were the most beloved by
the natives. They were the only ones who could live peaceably side by
side with their Indian neighbors, who grew to love and respect them,
sometimes attending their churches and often bringing their children to
be baptized by the kindly French priests, and Cartier being a Frenchman
was afterward very sorry for the deceit he had practised, and, no doubt,
would have taken Donnacona and his captive friends back again to Canada;
but the Indians could not live in exile, and before long they had all
died of homesickness except one little girl, who indeed grew up and
married happily, but who still longed all her life for a sight of the
wide shining river and the dark clustered pines of her native land.
Four years after, France made another attempt to settle Canada. Cartier
then met with the reward of his former treachery. The Indians were no
longer friendly, and refused to believe him when he said that only
Donnacona was dead, and the rest were all married and living in France
as great lords.
Besides, the French had been disappointed in not finding gold and silver
in the country, and so after awhile Cartier's ship sailed back to France
again, and it was nearly fifty years before another attempt was made to
make a French settlement in the northern part of America.