perfect truth, that, from a worldly point of view, it was mere folly.
The partners mutually bound themselves to seek no return for the money
expended. Their profit was to be reaped in the skies: and, indeed, there
was none to be reaped on earth. The feeble settlement at Quebec was at
this time in danger of utter ruin; for the Iroquois, enraged at the
attacks made on them by Champlain, had begun a fearful course of
retaliation, and the very existence of the colony trembled in the
balance. But if Quebec was exposed to their ferocious inroads, Montreal
was incomparably more so. A settlement here would be a perilous
outpost,--a hand thrust into the jaws of the tiger. It would provoke
attack, and lie almost in the path of the war-parties. The Associates
could gain nothing by the fur-trade; for they would not be allowed to
share in it. On the other hand, danger apart, the place was an excellent
one for a mission; for here met two great rivers: the St. Lawrence, with
its countless tributaries, flowed in from the west, while the Ottawa
descended from the north; and Montreal, embraced by their uniting
waters, was the key to a vast inland navigation. Thither the Indians
would naturally resort; and thence the missionaries could make their way
into the heart of a boundless heathendom. None of the ordinary motives
of colonization had part in this design. It owed its conception and its
birth to religious zeal alone.
The island of Montreal belonged to Lauson, former president of the great
company of the Hundred Associates; and his son had a monopoly of fishing
in the St. Lawrence. Dauversiere and Fancamp, after much diplomacy,
succeeded in persuading the elder Lauson to transfer his title to them;
and, as there was a defect in it, they also obtained a grant of the
island from the Hundred Associates, its original owners, who, however,
reserved to themselves its western extremity as a site for a fort and
storehouses. At the same time, the younger Lauson granted them a right
of fishery within two leagues of the shores of the island, for which
they were to make a yearly acknowledgment of ten pounds of fish. A
confirmation of these grants was obtained from the King. Dauversiere and
his companions were now _seigneurs_ of Montreal. They were empowered to
appoint a governor, and to establish courts, from which there was to be
an appeal to the Supreme Court of Quebec, supposing such to exist. They
were excluded from the fur-trade, and forbidden to build castles or
forts other than such as were necessary for defence against the Indians.
Their title assured, they matured their plan. First they would send out
forty men to take possession of Montreal, intrench themselves, and raise
crops. Then they would build a house for the priests, and two convents
for the nuns. Meanwhile, Olier was toiling at Vaugirard, on the
outskirts of Paris, to inaugurate the seminary of priests, and
Dauversiere at La Fleche, to form the community of hospital nuns. How
the school nuns were provided for we shall see hereafter. The colony, it
will be observed, was for the convents, not the convents for the colony.
The Associates needed a soldier-governor to take charge of their forty
men; and, directed as they supposed by Providence, they found one
wholly to their mind. This was Paul de Chomedey, Sieur de Maisonneuve, a
devout and valiant gentleman, who in long service among the heretics of
Holland had kept his faith intact, and had held himself resolutely aloof
from the license that surrounded him. He loved his profession of arms,
and wished to consecrate his sword to the Church. Past all comparison,
he is the manliest figure that appears in this group of zealots. The
piety of the design, the miracles that inspired it, the adventure and
the peril, all combined to charm him; and he eagerly embraced the
enterprise. His father opposed his purpose; but he met him with a text
of St. Mark, "There is no man that hath left house or brethren or
sisters or father for my sake, but he shall receive an hundred-fold." On
this the elder Maisonneuve, deceived by his own worldliness, imagined
that the plan covered some hidden speculation, from which enormous
profits were expected, and therefore withdrew his opposition.
Their scheme was ripening fast, when both Olier and Dauversiere were
assailed by one of those revulsions of spirit, to which saints of the
ecstatic school are naturally liable. Dauversiere, in particular, was a
prey to the extremity of dejection, uncertainty, and misgiving. What had
he, a family man, to do with ventures beyond sea? Was it not his first
duty to support his wife and children? Could he not fulfil all his
obligations as a Christian by reclaiming the wicked and relieving the
poor at La Fleche? Plainly, he had doubts that his vocation was genuine.
If we could raise the curtain of his domestic life, perhaps we should
find him beset by wife and daughters, tearful and wrathful, inveighing
against his folly, and imploring him to provide a support for them
before squandering his money to plant a convent of nuns in a
wilderness. How long his fit of dejection lasted does not appear; but at
length he set himself again to his appointed work. Olier, too, emerging
from the clouds and darkness, found faith once more, and again placed
himself at the head of the great enterprise.
There was imperative need of more money; and Dauversiere, under
judicious guidance, was active in obtaining it. This miserable victim of
illusions had a squat, uncourtly figure, and was no proficient in the
graces either of manners or of speech: hence his success in commending
his objects to persons of rank and wealth is set down as one of the many
miracles which attended the birth of Montreal. But zeal and earnestness
are in themselves a power; and the ground had been well marked out and
ploughed for him in advance. That attractive, though intricate, subject
of study, the female mind, has always engaged the attention of priests,
more especially in countries where as in France, women exert a strong
social and political influence. The art of kindling the flames of zeal,
and the more difficult art of directing and controlling them, have been
themes of reflection the most diligent and profound. Accordingly we find
that a large proportion of the money raised for this enterprise was
contributed by devout ladies. Many of them became members of the
Association of Montreal, which was eventually increased to about
forty-five persons, chosen for their devotion and their wealth.
Olier and his associates had resolved, though not from any collapse of
zeal, to postpone the establishment of the seminary and the college
until after a settlement should be formed. The hospital, however, might,
they thought, be begun at once; for blood and blows would be the assured
portion of the first settlers. At least, a discreet woman ought to
embark with the first colonists as their nurse and housekeeper. Scarcely
was the need recognized when it was supplied.
Mademoiselle Jeanne Mance was born of an honorable family of
Nogent-le-Roi, and in 1640 was thirty-four years of age. These Canadian
heroines began their religious experiences early. Of Marie de
l'Incarnation we read, that at the age of seven Christ appeared to her
in a vision; and the biographer of Mademoiselle Mance assures us, with
admiring gravity, that, at the same tender age, she bound herself to God
by a vow of perpetual chastity. This singular infant in due time became
a woman, of a delicate constitution, and manners graceful, yet
dignified. Though an earnest devotee, she felt no vocation for the
cloister; yet, while still "in the world," she led the life of a nun.
The Jesuit _Relations_, and the example of Madame de la Peltrie, of whom
she had heard, inoculated her with the Canadian enthusiasm, then so
prevalent; and, under the pretence of visiting relatives, she made a
journey to Paris, to take counsel of certain priests. Of one thing she
was assured: the Divine will called her to Canada, but to what end she
neither knew nor asked to know; for she abandoned herself as an atom to
be borne to unknown destinies on the breath of God. At Paris, Father St.
Jure, a Jesuit, assured her that her vocation to Canada was, past doubt,
a call from Heaven; while Father Rapin, a Recollet, spread abroad the
fame of her virtues, and introduced her to many ladies of rank, wealth,
and zeal. Then, well supplied with money for any pious work to which she
might be summoned, she journeyed to Rochelle, whence ships were to sail
for New France. Thus far she had been kept in ignorance of the plan with
regard to Montreal; but now Father La Place, a Jesuit, revealed it to
her. On the day after her arrival at Rochelle, as she entered the Church
of the Jesuits, she met Dauversiere coming out. "Then," says her
biographer, "these two persons, who had never seen nor heard of each
other, were enlightened supernaturally, whereby their most hidden
thoughts were mutually made known, as had happened already with M. Olier
and this same M. de la Dauversiere." A long conversation ensued between
them; and the delights of this interview were never effaced from the
mind of Mademoiselle Mance. "She used to speak of it like a seraph,"
writes one of her nuns, "and far better than many a learned doctor could
have done."
She had found her destiny. The ocean, the wilderness, the solitude, the
Iroquois,--nothing daunted her. She would go to Montreal with
Maisonneuve and his forty men. Yet, when the vessel was about to sail, a
new and sharp misgiving seized her. How could she, a woman, not yet
bereft of youth or charms, live alone in the forest, among a troop of
soldiers? Her scruples were relieved by two of the men, who, at the last
moment, refused to embark without their wives,--and by a young woman,
who, impelled by enthusiasm, escaped from her friends, and took passage,
in spite of them, in one of the vessels.
All was ready; the ships set sail; but Olier, Dauversiere, and Fancamp
remained at home, as did also the other Associates, with the exception
of Maisonneuve and Mademoiselle Mance. In the following February, an
impressive scene took place in the Church of Notre-Dame, at Paris. The
Associates, at this time numbering about forty-five, with Olier at their
head, assembled before the altar of the Virgin, and, by a solemn
ceremonial, consecrated Montreal to the Holy Family. Henceforth it was
to be called _Villemarie de Montreal_,--a sacred town, reared to the
honor and under the patronage of Christ, St. Joseph, and the Virgin, to
be typified by three persons on earth, founders respectively of the
three destined communities,--Olier, Dauversiere, and a maiden of Troyes,
Marguerite Bourgeoys: the seminary to be consecrated to Christ, the
Hotel-Dieu to St. Joseph, and the college to the Virgin.
But we are anticipating a little; for it was several years as yet before
Marguerite Bourgeoys took an active part in the work of Montreal. She
was the daughter of a respectable tradesman, and was now twenty-two
years of age. Her portrait has come down to us; and her face is a mirror
of loyalty and womanly tenderness. Her qualities were those of good
sense, conscientiousness, and a warm heart. She had known no miracles,
ecstasies, or trances; and though afterwards, when her religious
susceptibilities had reached a fuller development, a few such are
recorded of her, yet even the Abbe Faillon, with the best intentions,
can credit her with but a meagre allowance of these celestial favors.
Though in the midst of visionaries, she distrusted the supernatural, and
avowed her belief that, in His government of the world, God does not
often set aside its ordinary laws. Her religion was of the affections,
and was manifested in an absorbing devotion to duty. She had felt no
vocation to the cloister, but had taken the vow of chastity, and was
attached, as an _externe_, to the Sisters of the Congregation of Troyes,
who were fevered with eagerness to go to Canada. Marguerite, however,
was content to wait until there was a prospect that she could do good by
going; and it was not till the year 1653, that, renouncing an
inheritance, and giving all she had to the poor, she embarked for the
savage scene of her labors. To this day, in crowded school-rooms of
Montreal and Quebec, fit monuments of her unobtrusive virtue, her
successors instruct the children of the poor, and embalm the pleasant
memory of Marguerite Bourgeoys. In the martial figure of Maisonneuve,
and the fair form of this gentle nun, we find the true heroes of
Montreal.
Maisonneuve, with his forty men and four women, reached Quebec too late
to ascend to Montreal that season. They encountered distrust, jealousy,
and opposition. The agents of the Company of the Hundred Associates
looked on them askance; and the Governor of Quebec, Montmagny, saw a
rival governor in Maisonneuve. Every means was used to persuade the
adventurers to abandon their project, and settle at Quebec. Montmagny
called a council of the principal persons of his colony, who gave it as
their opinion that the newcomers had better exchange Montreal for the
Island of Orleans, where they would be in a position to give and receive
succor; while, by persisting in their first design, they would expose
themselves to destruction, and be of use to nobody. Maisonneuve, who was
present, expressed his surprise that they should assume to direct his
affairs. "I have not come here," he said, "to deliberate, but to act. It
is my duty and my honor to found a colony at Montreal; and I would go,
if every tree were an Iroquois!"
At Quebec there was little ability and no inclination to shelter the new
colonists for the winter; and they would have fared ill, but for the
generosity of M. Puiseaux, who lived not far distant, at a place called
St. Michel. This devout and most hospitable person made room for them
all in his rough, but capacious dwelling. Their neighbors were the
hospital nuns, then living at the mission of Sillery, in a substantial,
but comfortless house of stone; where, amidst destitution, sickness,
and irrepressible disgust at the filth of the savages whom they had in
charge, they were laboring day and night with devoted assiduity. Among
the minor ills which beset them were the eccentricities of one of their
lay sisters, crazed with religious enthusiasm, who had the care of their
poultry and domestic animals, of which she was accustomed to inquire,
one by one, if they loved God; when, not receiving an immediate answer
in the affirmative, she would instantly put them to death, telling them
that their impiety deserved no better fate.
Early in May, Maisonneuve and his followers embarked. They had gained an
unexpected recruit during the winter, in the person of Madame de la
Peltrie, foundress of the Ursulines of Quebec. The piety, the novelty,
and the romance of their enterprise, all had their charms for the fair
enthusiast; and an irresistible impulse--imputed by a slandering
historian to the levity of her sex--urged her to share their fortunes.
Her zeal was more admired by the Montrealists whom she joined than by
the Ursulines whom she abandoned. She carried off all the furniture she
had lent them, and left them in the utmost destitution. Nor did she
remain quiet after reaching Montreal, but was presently seized with a
longing to visit the Hurons, and preach the Faith in person to those
benighted heathen. It needed all the eloquence of a Jesuit, lately
returned from that most arduous mission, to convince her that the
attempt would be as useless as rash.
It was the eighth of May when Maisonneuve and his followers embarked at
St. Michel; and as the boats, deep-laden with men, arms, and stores,
moved slowly on their way, the forest, with leaves just opening in the
warmth of spring, lay on their right hand and on their left, in a
flattering semblance of tranquillity and peace. But behind woody islets,
in tangled thickets and damp ravines, and in the shade and stillness of
the columned woods, lurked everywhere a danger and a terror.
On the seventeenth of May, 1642, Maisonneuve's little flotilla--a
pinnace, a flat-bottomed craft moved by sails, and two
row-boats--approached Montreal; and all on board raised in unison a hymn
of praise. Montmagny was with them, to deliver the island, in behalf of
the Company of the Hundred Associates, to Maisonneuve, representative of
the Associates of Montreal. And here, too, was Father Vimont, Superior
of the missions; for the Jesuits had been prudently invited to accept
the spiritual charge of the young colony. On the following day, they
glided along the green and solitary shores now thronged with the life of
a busy city, and landed on the spot which Champlain, thirty-one years
before, had chosen as the fit site of a settlement. It was a tongue or
triangle of land, formed by the junction of a rivulet with the St.
Lawrence, and known afterwards as Point Calliere. The rivulet was
bordered by a meadow, and beyond rose the forest with its vanguard of
scattered trees. Early spring flowers were blooming in the young grass,
and birds of varied plumage flitted among the boughs.
Maisonneuve sprang ashore, and fell on his knees. His followers imitated
his example; and all joined their voices in enthusiastic songs of
thanksgiving. Tents, baggage, arms, and stores were landed. An altar was
raised on a pleasant spot near at hand; and Mademoiselle Mance, with
Madame de la Peltrie, aided by her servant, Charlotte Barre, decorated
it with a taste which was the admiration of the beholders. Now all the
company gathered before the shrine. Here stood Vimont, in the rich
vestments of his office. Here were the two ladies, with their servant;
Montmagny, no very willing spectator; and Maisonneuve, a warlike figure,
erect and tall, his men clustering around him,--soldiers, sailors,
artisans, and laborers,--all alike soldiers at need. They kneeled in
reverent silence as the Host was raised aloft; and when the rite was
over, the priest turned and addressed them:--
"You are a grain of mustard-seed, that shall rise and grow till its
branches overshadow the earth. You are few, but your work is the work of
God. His smile is on you, and your children shall fill the land."
The afternoon waned; the sun sank behind the western forest, and
twilight came on. Fireflies were twinkling over the darkened meadow.
They caught them, tied them with threads into shining festoons, and hung
them before the altar, where the Host remained exposed. Then they
pitched their tents, lighted their bivouac fires, stationed their
guards, and lay down to rest. Such was the birth-night of Montreal.
Is this true history, or a romance of Christian chivalry? It is both.
A few years later there was another emigration to Montreal, of a
character much like the first. The pious little colony led a struggling
and precarious existence. Many of its inhabitants were killed by the
Iroquois, and its escape from destruction was imputed to the
intervention of the Holy Virgin. The place changed as years went on, and
became a great centre of the fur trade, though still bearing strong
marks of its pristine character. The institutions of religion and
charity planted by its founders remain to this day, and the Seminary of
St. Sulpice holds vast possessions in and around the city. During the
war of 1755-1760, Montreal was a base of military operations. In the
latter year three English armies advanced upon it from three different
points, united before its walls, and forced Governor Vaudreuil to
surrender all Canada to the British Crown.
QUEBEC.
INFANCY OF QUEBEC.
Champlain was the founder of this old capital of French Canada, whose
existence began in 1608. In that year he built a cluster of fortified
dwellings and storehouses, which he called "The Habitation of Quebec,"
and which stood on or near the site of the marketplace of the Lower
Town.
The settlement made little progress for many years. A company of
merchants held the monopoly of its fur-trade, by which alone it lived.
It was half trading-factory, half mission. Its permanent inmates did not
exceed fifty or sixty persons,--fur-traders, friars, and two or three
wretched families, who had no inducement and little wish to labor. The
fort is facetiously represented as having two old women for garrison,
and a brace of hens for sentinels. All was discord and disorder.
Champlain was the nominal commander; but the actual authority was with
the merchants, who held, excepting the friars, nearly every one in their
pay. Each was jealous of the other, but all were united in a common
jealousy of Champlain. From a short-sighted view of self-interest, they
sought to check the colonization which they were pledged to promote. The
few families whom they brought over were forbidden to trade with the
Indians, and compelled to sell the fruits of their labor to the agents
of the company at a low, fixed price, receiving goods in return at an
inordinate valuation. Some of the merchants were of Rouen, some of St.
Malo; some were Catholics, some were Huguenots. Hence unceasing
bickerings. All exercise of the Reformed Religion, on land or water, was
prohibited within the limits of New France; but the Huguenots set the
prohibition at nought, roaring their heretical psalmody with such vigor
from their ships in the river, that the unhallowed strains polluted the
ears of the Indians on shore. The merchants of Rochelle, who had refused
to join the company, carried on a bold, illicit traffic along the
borders of the St. Lawrence, eluding pursuit, or, if hard pressed,
showing fight; and this was a source of perpetual irritation to the
incensed monopolists.
Champlain, in his singularly trying position, displayed a mingled zeal
and fortitude. He went every year to France, laboring for the interests
of the colony. To throw open the trade to all competitors was a measure
beyond the wisdom of the times; and he aimed only so to bind and
regulate the monopoly as to make it subserve the generous purpose to
which he had given himself. He had succeeded in binding the company of
merchants with new and more stringent engagements; and, in the vain
belief that these might not be wholly broken, he began to conceive fresh
hopes for the colony. In this faith he embarked with his wife for Quebec
in the spring of 1620; and, as the boat drew near the landing, the
cannon welcomed her to the rock of her banishment. The buildings were
falling to ruin; rain entered on all sides; the court-yard, says
Champlain, was as squalid and dilapidated as a grange pillaged by
soldiers. Madame de Champlain was still very young. If the Ursuline
tradition is to be trusted, the Indians, amazed at her beauty and
touched by her gentleness, would have worshipped her as a divinity. Her
husband had married her at the age of twelve; when, to his horror, he
presently discovered that she was infected with the heresies of her
father, a disguised Huguenot. He addressed himself at once to her
conversion, and his pious efforts were something more than successful.
During the four years which she passed in Canada, her zeal, it is true,
was chiefly exercised in admonishing Indian squaws and catechising their
children; but, on her return to France, nothing would content her but to
become a nun. Champlain refused; but, as she was childless, he at length
consented to a virtual, though not formal, separation. After his death
she gained her wish, became an Ursuline nun, founded a convent of that
order at Meaux, and died with a reputation almost saintly.
A stranger visiting the fort of Quebec would have been astonished at its
air of conventual decorum. Black Jesuits and scarfed officers mingled at
Champlain's table. There was little conversation, but, in its place,
histories and the lives of saints were read aloud, as in a monastic
refectory. Prayers, masses, and confessions followed each other with an
edifying regularity, and the bell of the adjacent chapel, built by
Champlain, rang morning, noon, and night. Godless soldiers caught the
infection, and whipped themselves in penance for their sins. Debauched
artisans outdid each other in the fury of their contrition. Quebec was
become a Mission. Indians gathered thither as of old, not from the
baneful lure of brandy, for the traffic in it was no longer tolerated,
but from the less pernicious attractions of gifts, kind words, and
politic blandishments. To the vital principle of propagandism the
commercial and the military character were subordinated; or, to speak
more justly, trade, policy, and military power leaned on the missions as
their main support, the grand instrument of their extension. The
missions were to explore the interior; the missions were to win over
the savage hordes at once to Heaven and to France.
Years passed. The mission of the Hurons was established, and here the
indomitable Brebeuf, with a band worthy of him, toiled amid miseries and
perils as fearful as ever shook the constancy of man; while Champlain at
Quebec, in a life uneventful, yet harassing and laborious, was busied in
the round of cares which his post involved.