The elongated and narrow water way of Lake Champlain stretches
northward one hundred and twenty-six miles, dividing New York from
Vermont, and its head, south of Ticonderoga, extending to Whitehall,
is so contracted between generally low and swampy shores, that it
there seems more like a river than a lake, in some places being
scarcely two hundred yards across. Northward, however, it broadens
into a much wider lake, the greatest unobstructed breadth being about
ten miles, opposite Burlington, Vermont, where it seems to expand
almost into a sea. The widest part of all is beyond this, being about
fifteen miles across, but with intervening islands. Over sixty islands
are scattered about this attractive lake, the contour of the shores
being very irregular, with numerous indenting bays. The northern
outlet is by the Richelieu River and the Chambly Rapids into the St.
Lawrence. Lake Champlain fills a long trough-like valley, bordered by
mountain ranges. When compared with Lake George, however, its shores
present a striking difference. There the declivities generally descend
abruptly to the water, but on Champlain the distant ranges, usually
far away on either side, have in front, bordering the water, wide
stretches of meadow and farm land and broad green slopes. Upon the
Vermont shore the prevailing aspect is a pastoral region, having the
Green Mountains rising in the distant eastern background. These are
the "Verts Monts," which the earliest French explorer of the St.
Lawrence, Jacques Cartier, saw from afar off, when the Indians of
Hochelaga, where Montreal now stands, took him to the top of their
mountain--"Mont Real"--to show him the glorious southern landscape.
These mountains gave Vermont its name, their highest peaks rising
behind Burlington, Mount Mansfield and the Camel's Hump. The New York
shore of the lake to the westward presents barren and mountainous
scenery, the terminations of the Adirondack ranges being occasionally
pushed out as bold promontories to the water's edge, while behind them
the higher peaks loom in dark grandeur against the horizon.
The adventurous French warrior and pioneer Samuel de Champlain was the
first European who sailed upon the waters of Champlain, and he gave
it his name. Anxious for exploration and adventure, in 1609 he joined
a band of Huron and Algonquin warriors on an expedition against their
enemies, the Mohawks and Iroquois in New York. After a grand war-dance
at Quebec they set out, ascending the St. Lawrence and Richelieu, and
on July 4th they entered the lake, Champlain having two French
companions, and the three being armed with arquebuses. As they
progressed towards the south, nearing the haunts of the Iroquois, they
travelled only at night, hiding by day in the forest. On July 29th,
while thus hiding, Champlain fell asleep and had a dream, wherein he
beheld the Iroquois drowning in the lake, and, trying to rescue them,
was told by his Huron companions that they were good for nothing, and
had better be left to their fate. When he awoke he told them of his
vision, and they were delighted. That very night they observed a
flotilla of Iroquois canoes, heavier and slower than their own, in
motion on the lake before them. Each saw the other, and mingled
war-cries pealed over the dark waters. The Iroquois, not wanting to
fight on the lake, landed and made a barricade of trees, which they
cut down. The Hurons lashed their canoes together and remained a
bowshot off-shore, shouting and dancing all night on their frail
vessels. It was agreed they should fight in the morning, and until
dawn the two parties abused each other, shouting taunts and defiance
"much," writes Champlain, "like the besiegers and besieged in a
beleaguered town," Champlain and his two companions, as day
approached, put on their light armor and lay in the bottom of their
canoes to keep hidden. Soon they all landed unopposed, and then the
Iroquois, some two hundred in number, came out of their barricade to
fight. The Hurons, who had surrounded Champlain, now opened their
ranks, and he passed to the front, levelled his arquebuse and
fired,--a chief fell dead, and soon another rolled among the bushes.
Then the Hurons gave a yell, which Champlain says would have drowned a
thunderclap, and the forest was filled with whizzing arrows. The
Iroquois for a moment replied lustily, and the other Frenchmen, who
were in the thicket on their flank, gave successive gunshots, which
they could not withstand, but soon broke and fled in terror. The
Hurons pursued them like hounds through the bushes, some were killed
and more were taken prisoners, and the arquebuse, till now unknown to
them, had won the victory. Then the victors, with their captives and
spoils, withdrew to the St. Lawrence; and Champlain had thus assisted
at the beginning of the awful series of conflicts which these lakes
witnessed during two centuries. This fight was in the neighborhood of
Crown Point, on Bulwagga Bay.
The latest of these conflicts on the lake was Commodore McDonough's
brilliant victory over the British fleet in 1814, since which time the
history of Lake Champlain has been peaceful. Despite this early
discovery and naming, however, it was not until long afterwards that
it was generally known by the present name. The Mohawks and Iroquois,
as already explained, called it the "Door of the Country." Among their
other bitter foes were the Abenaqui Indian nation of New England, who
called it Lake Potoubouque, or "the waters that lie between," that is,
between their country and the land of the Iroquois. For similar
reasons the French in Canada called it the "Iroquois Sea." A Dutch
officer having afterwards been drowned here, both the French and the
English for a long time styled it after him, "Corlaer's Lake." These
names, however, all long ago vanished, and since the eighteenth
century it has borne, undisputed, the name of Champlain, the great
Father of Canada.