daily supply of fresh provisions, for he created a new order for the
especial benefit of the principal table, at which Poutrincourt, he
himself, and thirteen others sat daily. These fifteen gentlemen
constituted themselves into _l'Ordre de Bon Temps_, one of whom was
grandmaster for a day, and bound to cater for the company. Each tried,
of course, to excel the other in the quantity of game and fish they
were able to gather from the {58} surrounding country, and the
consequence was, Poutrincourt's table never wanted any of the luxuries
that the river or forest could supply. At the dinner hour the
grandmaster, with the insignia of his order, a costly collar around his
neck, a staff in his hand, and a napkin on his shoulder, came into the
hall at the head of his brethren, each of whom carried some dish. The
Indians were frequent guests at their feasts, especially old Membertou,
a famous Micmac or Souriquois chief, who always retained a warm
attachment for the pale-faced strangers. Songs of La Belle France were
sung; many a toast was drunk in some rare vintage,--the flames flew up
the huge chimney,--the Indians squatted on the floor, laughing like the
merry Frenchmen. When the pipe went around--with its lobster-like bowl
and tube elaborately worked with porcupine quills--stories were told,
and none excelled the Indians themselves in this part of the
entertainment. At last, when the tobacco was all exhausted, the
grandmaster resigned his regalia of office to his successor, who lost
no time in performing his duties. Thus the long winter evenings passed
in that lonely French fort at the verge of an untamed continent.
Then came bad news from France. Late in the spring of 1607, a vessel
sailed into the basin with letters from De Monts that the colony would
have to be broken up, as his charter had been revoked, and the Company
could no longer support Port Royal. The Breton and Basque merchants,
who were very hostile to De Monts's monopoly, had {59} succeeded in
influencing the government to withdraw its patronage from him and his
associates. Soon afterwards the little colony regretfully left Port
Royal, which never looked so lovely in their eyes as they passed on to
the Bay of Fundy, and saw the whole country in the glory of mid-summer.
The Indians, especially Membertou, watched the departure of their new
friends with unfeigned regret, and promised to look carefully after the
safety of the fort and its contents.
As soon as Poutrincourt reached his native country he did his best to
make friends at the Court, as he was resolved on returning to Acadia,
while Champlain decided to venture to the St. Lawrence, where I shall
take up his memorable story later. Poutrincourt's prospects, for a
time, were exceedingly gloomy. De Monts was able to assist him but
very little, and the adventurous Baron himself was involved in debt and
litigations, but he eventually succeeded in obtaining a renewal of his
grant from the King, and interesting some wealthy traders in the
enterprise. Then some difficulties of a religious character threatened
to interfere with the success of the expedition. The society of
Jesuits was, at this time, exceedingly influential at court, and, in
consequence of their representations, the King ordered that Pierre
Biard, professor of theology at Lyons, should accompany the expedition.
Though Poutrincourt was a good Catholic, he mistrusted this religious
order, and succeeded in deceiving Father Biard, who was waiting for him
at Bordeaux, by taking his departure from Dieppe in company with {60}
Father Fléché, who was not a member of the Jesuits.
The ship entered Port Royal basin in the beginning of June, 1610. Here
they were agreeably surprised to find the buildings and their contents
perfectly safe, and their old friend Membertou, now a centenarian,
looking as hale as ever, and overwhelmed with joy at the return of the
friendly palefaces. Among the first things that Poutrincourt did,
after his arrival, was to make converts of the Indians. Father Fléché
soon convinced Membertou and all his tribe of the truths of
Christianity. Membertou was named Henri, after the king; his chief
squaw Marie, after the queen. The Pope, the Dauphin, Marguérite de
Valois, and other ladies and gentlemen famous in the history of their
times, became sponsors for the Micmac converts who were gathered into
mother church on St. John's day, with the most imposing ceremonies that
the French could arrange in that wild country.
Conscious of the influence of the Jesuits at Court, and desirous of
counteracting any prejudice that might have been created against him,
Poutrincourt decided to send his son, a fine youth of eighteen years,
in the ship returning to France, with a statement showing his zeal in
converting the natives of the new colony.
When this youthful ambassador reached France, Henry of Navarre had
perished by the knife of Ravaillac, and Marie de' Medici, that wily,
cruel, and false Italian, was regent during the minority of her son,
Louis XIII. The Jesuits were now {61} all-powerful at the Louvre, and
it was decided that Fathers Biard and Ennemond Massé should accompany
Biencourt to Acadia. The ladies of the Court, especially Madame de
Guercheville, wife of Duke de la Rochefoucauld de Liancourt, whose
reputation could not be assailed by the tongue of scandal, even in a
state of society when virtue was too often the exception, interested
themselves in the work of converting the savages of Acadia. The
business of the Protestant traders of Dieppe was purchased and made
over to the Jesuits. Thus did these indefatigable priests, for the
first time, engage in the work of converting the savage in the American
wilderness.
The vessel which took Biencourt and his friends back to Port Royal
arrived on the 22nd of July, 1611, off the fort, where Poutrincourt and
his colonists were exceedingly short of supplies. His very first act
was to appoint his son as vice-admiral, while he himself went on to
France with the hope of obtaining further aid about the middle of July.
The total number of persons in the colony was only twenty-two,
including the two Jesuits, who immediately commenced to learn Micmac,
as the first step necessary to the success of the work they had in
hand. The two priests suffered many hardships, but they bore their
troubles with a patience and resignation which gained them even the
admiration of those who were not prepossessed in their favour. Massé,
who had gone to live among the Indians, was nearly starved and smoked
to death in their rude camps; but still he appears to have persevered
in that course of life as long as he possibly {62} could. About this
time the priests had the consolation of performing the last offices for
the veteran Membertou, the staunch friend of the French colonists. On
his death-bed he expressed a strong desire to be buried with his
forefathers, but the arguments of his priestly advisers overcame his
superstition, and his remains were finally laid in consecrated ground.
Matters looked very gloomy by the end of February, when a ship arrived
very opportunely from France with a small store of supplies. The news
from Poutrincourt was most discouraging. Unable to raise further funds
on his own responsibility, he had accepted the proffer of assistance
from Mme. de Guercheville, who, in her zeal, had also bought from De
Monts all his claims over the colony, with the exception of Port Royal,
which belonged to Poutrincourt. The King not only consented to the
transfer but gave her a grant of the territory extending from Florida
to Canada. The society of Jesuits was therefore virtually in
possession of North America as far as a French deed could give it away.
But the French king forgot when he was making this lavish gift of a
continent, that the British laid claims to the same region and had
already established a colony in Virginia, which was then an undefined
territory, extending from Florida to New France. Both France and
England were now face to face on the new continent, and a daring
English adventurer was about to strike in Acadia the first blow for
English supremacy.
Such was the position of affairs at the time of the {63} arrival of the
new vessel and cargo, which were under the control of Simon Imbert, who
had formerly been a servant to Poutrincourt. Among the passengers was
another Jesuit father, Gilbert Du Thet, who came out in the interests
of Mme. de Guercheville and his own order. The two agents quarrelled
from the very day they set out until they arrived at Port Royal, and
then the colony took the matter up. At last the difficulties were
settled by Du Thet receiving permission to return to France.
A few months later, at the end of May, 1613, another French ship
anchored off Port Royal. She had been sent out with a fine supply of
stores, not by Poutrincourt, but by Mme. de Guercheville, and was under
the orders of M. Saussaye, a gentleman by birth and a man of ability.
On board were two Jesuits, Fathers Quentin and Gilbert Du Thet and a
number of colonists. Poutrincourt, it appeared, was in prison and ill,
unable to do anything whatever for his friends across the ocean. This
was, indeed, sad news for Biencourt and his faithful allies, who had
been anxiously expecting assistance from France.
At Port Royal the new vessel took on board the two priests Biard and
Massé, and sailed towards the coast of New England; for Saussaye's
instructions were to found a new colony in the vicinity of Pentagoët
(Penobscot). In consequence of the prevalent sea-fogs, however, they
were driven to the island of Monts-Déserts, where they found a harbour
which, it was decided, would answer all their purposes on the western
side of Soames's Sound. Saussaye and {64} his party had commenced to
erect buildings for the new colony, when an event occurred which placed
a very different complexion on matters.
A man-of-war came sailing into the harbour, and from her masthead
floated, not the fleur-de-lis, but the blood-red flag of England. This
new-comer was Samuel Argall, a young English sea captain, a coarse,
passionate, and daring man, who had been some time associated with the
fortunes of Virginia. In the spring of 1613 he set sail in a stout
vessel of 130 tons, carrying 14 guns and 60 men, for a cruise to the
coast of Maine for a supply of cod-fish, and whilst becalmed off
Monts-Desérts, some Indians came on board and informed him of the
presence of the French in the vicinity of that island. He looked upon
the French as encroaching upon British territory, and in a few hours
had destroyed the infant settlement of St. Sauveur. Saussaye was
perfectly paralysed, and attempted no defence when he saw that Argall
had hostile intentions; but the Jesuit Du Thet did his utmost to rally
the men to arms, and was the first to fall a victim. Fifteen of the
prisoners, including Saussaye and Massé, were turned adrift in an open
boat; but fortunately, they managed to cross the bay and reach the
coast of Nova Scotia, where they met with some trading vessels
belonging to St. Malo. Father Biard and the others were taken to
Virginia by Argall. Biard subsequently reached England, and was
allowed to return home. All the rest of the prisoners taken at St.
Sauveur also found their way to France.
But how prospered the fortunes of Poutrincourt {65} whilst the fate of
Port Royal was hanging in the scale? As we have previously stated, he
had been put into prison by his creditors, and had there lain ill for
some months. When he was at last liberated, and appeared once more
among his friends he succeeded in obtaining some assistance, and
fitting out a small vessel, with a limited supply of stores for his
colony. In the spring of 1614 he entered the basin of Annapolis for
the last time, to find his son and followers wanderers in the woods,
and only piles of ashes marking the site of the buildings on which he
and his friends had expended so much time and money. The fate of Port
Royal may be very briefly told. The Governor of Virginia, Sir Thomas
Dale, was exceedingly irate when he heard of the encroachments of
France on what he considered to be British territory by right of prior
discovery--that of John Cabot--and immediately sent Argall, after his
return from St. Sauveur, on an expedition to the northward. Argall
first touched at St. Sauveur, and completed the work of destruction,
and next stopped at St. Croix, where he also destroyed the deserted
buildings. To such an extent did he show his enmity, that he even
erased the fleur-de-lis and the initial of De Monts and others from the
massive stone on which they had been carved. Biencourt and nearly all
the inmates of the fort were absent some distance in the country, and
returned to see the English in complete possession.
The destruction of Port Royal by Argall ends the first period in the
history of Acadia as a French colony. Poutrincourt bowed to the
relentless fate that {66} drove him from the shores he loved so well,
and returned to France, where he took employment in the service of the
king. Two years later he was killed at the siege of Méri on the upper
Seine, during the civil war which followed the successful intrigues of
Marie de' Medici with Spain, to marry the boy king, Louis XIII., to
Anne of Austria, and his sister, the Princess Elisabeth, to a Spanish
prince. On his tomb at St. Just, in Champagne, there was inscribed an
elaborate Latin epitaph, of which the following is a translation:
"Ye people so dear to God,
inhabitants of New France,
whom I brought over to the
Faith of Christ. I am Poutrincourt, your
great chief, in whom was once your hope.
If envy deceived you, mourn for me.
My courage destroyed me. I could not
hand to another the glory
that I won among you.
Cease not to mourn for me.
Port Royal, in later years, arose from its ashes, and the fleur-de-lis,
or the red cross, floated from its walls, according as the French or
the English were the victors in the long struggle that ensued for the
possession of Acadia. But before we continue the story of its varying
fortunes in later times, we must proceed to the banks of the St.
Lawrence, where the French had laid the foundation of Quebec and New
France in the great valley, while Poutrincourt was struggling vainly to
make a new home for himself and family by the side of the river of Port
Royal.
[1] Now known as Douchet Island; no relics remain of the French
occupation.
[2] Champlain says the river was named after a little fish caught
there, _de grandeur d'un esplan_.
{67}
VI.
SAMUEL CHAMPLAIN IN THE VALLEY OF THE ST. LAWRENCE.
(1608-1635.)
When Samuel Champlain entered the St. Lawrence River for the second
time, in 1608, after his three years' explorations in Acadia, and laid
the foundation of the present city of Quebec, the only Europeans on the
Atlantic coast of America were a few Spaniards at St. Augustine, and a
few Englishmen at Jamestown. The first attempt of the English, under
the inspiration of the great Raleigh, to establish a colony in the fine
country to the north of Spanish Florida, then known as Virginia, is
only remembered for the mystery which must always surround the fate of
Virginia Dare and the little band of colonists who were left on the
island of Roanoke. Adventurous Englishmen, Gosnold, Pring, and
Weymouth, had even explored the coast of the present United States as
far as the Kennebec before the voyages of Champlain and Poutrincourt,
and the first is said to have given the name of Cape {68} Cod to the
point named Malebarre by the French. It was not, however, until 1607
that Captain Newport, representing the great company of Virginia, to
whom King James II. gave a charter covering the territory of an empire,
brought the first permanent English colony of one hundred persons up
the James River in Chesapeake Bay.
[Illustration: Champlain.]
From this time forward France and England became rivals in America. In
the first years of the seventeenth century were laid the foundations
not only of the Old Dominion of Virginia, which was in later times to
form so important a state among the American commonwealths, but also of
the New Dominion whose history may be said to commence on the shores of
Port Royal. But Acadia was not destined to be the great colony of
France--the centre of her imperial aspirations in America. The story
of the French in Acadia, from the days of De Monts and Poutrincourt,
until the beginning of the eighteenth century when it became an English
possession, is at most only a series of relatively unimportant episodes
in the history of that scheme of conquest which was planned in the
eighteenth century in the palace of Versailles and in the old castle of
St. Louis on the heights of Quebec, whose interesting story I must now
tell.
When Champlain returned to France in 1607 De Monts obtained from Henry
the Fourth a monopoly of the Canadian fur-trade for a year, and
immediately fitted out two vessels, one of which was given to
Pontgravé, who had taken part in previous expeditions to the new world.
Champlain was appointed {70} by De Monts as his representative, and
practically held the position of lieutenant-governor under different
viceroys, with all necessary executive and judicial powers, from this
time until his death, twenty-seven years later.
Champlain arrived on the 3rd of July off the promontory of Quebec,
which has ever since borne the name given to it by the Algonquin
tribes, in whose language _Kebec_ means such a strait or narrowing of a
river as actually occurs at this part of the St. Lawrence. The French
pioneers began at once to clear away the trees and dig cellars on an
accessible point of land which is now the site of Champlain market in
what is called "the lower town" of the modern city. Champlain has left
us a sketch of the buildings he erected--_habitation_ as he calls
them--and my readers will get from the illustration opposite an idea of
the plan he followed. Champlain made one of the buildings his
headquarters for twelve years, until he built a fort on the heights,
which was the beginning of that famous Fort and Castle of St. Louis to
which reference is so constantly made in the histories of New France.
Champlain was obliged immediately after his arrival at Quebec to punish
some conspirators who had agreed to murder him and hand over the
property of the post to the Basque fishermen frequenting Tadousac. The
leader, Jean du Val, was hanged after a fair trial and three of his
accomplices sent to France, where they expiated their crime in the
galleys. Great explorers had in those days to run such risks among
their followers and crews, not affected {71} by their own enthusiasm.
Only three years later a famous sailor and discoverer of new seas and
lands, was left to die among the waste of waters which ever since have
recalled the name of Henry Hudson.
[Illustration: Habitation de Quebec, from Champlain's sketch. Key to
illustration: A, Storehouse; B, Dovecote; C, Workmen's lodgings and
armoury; D, Lodgings for mechanics; E, Dial; F, Blacksmith's shop and
workmen's lodgings; G, Galleries; H, Champlain's residence; I, Gate and
drawbridge; L, Walk; M, Moat; N, Platform for cannon; O, Garden; P,
Kitchen; P, Vacant space; R, St. Lawrence.]
During the summer of 1609 Champlain decided to join an expedition of
the Algonquin and Huron Indians of Canada against the Iroquois, whose
country lay between the Hudson and Genesee rivers and westward of a
beautiful lake which he found could be reached by the river, then known
as the River of {72} the Iroquois--because it was their highway to the
St. Lawrence--and now called the Richelieu.
Canada was to pay most dearly in later years, as these pages will show,
for the alliance Champlain made with the inveterate enemies of the
ablest and bravest Indians of North America. Nowhere in his own
narrative of his doings in the colony does he give us an inkling of the
motives that influenced him. We may, however, fairly believe that he
underrated the strength and warlike qualities of the Iroquois, and
believed that the allied nations of Canada would sooner or later, with
his assistance, win the victory. If he had shown any hesitation to
ally himself with the Indians of Canada, he might have hazarded the
fortunes, and even ruined the fur-trade which was the sole basis of the
little colony's existence for many years. The dominating purpose of
his life in Canada, it is necessary to remember, was the exploration of
the unknown region to which the rivers and lakes of Canada led, and
that could never have been attempted, had he by any cold or
unsympathetic conduct alienated the Indians who guarded the waterways
over which he had to pass before he could unveil the mysteries of the
western wilderness.
In the month of June Champlain and several Frenchmen commenced their
ascent of the Richelieu in a large boat, in company with several bark
canoes filled with sixty Canadian Indians. When they reached the
rapids near the lovely basin of Chambly--named after a French officer
and seignior in later times--the French boat could not be taken any
{73} further. It was sent back to Quebec while Champlain and two
others, armed with the arquebus, a short gun with a matchlock, followed
the Indians through the woods to avoid this dangerous part of the
river. The party soon reached the safe waters of the Richelieu and
embarked once more in their canoes. For the first time Champlain had
abundant opportunities to note the customs of the Indians on a
war-path, their appeals to evil spirits to help them against their
enemies, their faith in dreams, and their methods of marching in a
hostile country. The party passed into the beautiful lake which has
ever since that day borne the great Frenchman's name; they saw its
numerous islets, the Adirondacks in the west, and the Green Mountains
in the east. Paddling cautiously for some nights along the western
shore, they reached at last on the evening of the 29th of July a point
of land, identified in later days as the site of Ticonderoga, so
celebrated in the military annals of America. Here they found a party
of Iroquois, who received them with shouts of defiance, but retreated
to the woods for the night with the understanding on both sides that
the fight would take place as soon as the sun rose next morning. The
allies remained in their canoes, dancing, singing, and hurling insults
at their foes, who did not fail to respond with similar demonstrations.
Next morning, two hundred stalwart Iroquois warriors, led by three
chiefs with conspicuous plumes, marched from their barricade of logs
and were met by the Canadian Indians. Champlain immediately fired on
the chiefs with such success that two of {74} them fell dead and the
other was wounded and died later. "Our Indians," writes Champlain,
"shouted triumphantly, and then the arrows began to fly furiously from
both parties. The Iroquois were clearly amazed that two chiefs should
have been so suddenly killed although they were protected from arrows
by a sort of armour made of strong twigs and filled with cotton. While
I was reloading, one of my men, who was not seen by the enemy, fired a
shot from the woods and so frightened the Iroquois, no longer led by
their chiefs, that they lost courage and fled precipitately into the
forest, where we followed and succeeded in killing a number and taking
ten or twelve prisoners. On our side only ten or fifteen were wounded,
and they very soon recovered."
On their return to the St. Lawrence, the Indians gave Champlain an
illustration of their cruelty towards their captives. When they had
harangued the Iroquois and narrated some of the tortures that his
nation had inflicted on the Canadians in previous times, he was told to
sing, and when he did so, as Champlain naïvely says, "the song was sad
to hear."
A fire was lit, and when it was very hot, the Indians seized a burning
brand and applied it to the naked body of their victim, who was tied to
a tree. Sometimes they poured water on his wounds, tore off his nails,
and poured hot gum on his head from which they had cut the scalp. They
opened his arm near the wrists, and pulled at his tendons and when they
would not come off, they used their knives. The poor wretch was forced
to cry out now and then in his agony, and it made Champlain {75}
heart-sick to see him so maltreated, but generally he exhibited so much
courage and stoicism that he seemed as if he were not suffering at all.
Champlain remonstrated with them, and was at last allowed to put a
speedy end to the sufferings of the unhappy warrior. But even when he
was dead, they cut the body into pieces and attempted to make the
brother of the victim swallow his heart. Champlain might well say that
it was better for an Indian to die on the battlefield or kill himself
when wounded, than fall into the hands of such merciless enemies.