The Founder of New France: A Chronicle of Champlain

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The story of Champlain's expeditions along these great
secluded waterways, and across the portages of the forest,
makes the most agreeable page of his life both for writer
and reader, since it is here that he himself is most
clearly in the foreground. At no point can his narrative
be thought dull, compact as it is and always in touch
with energetic action. But the details of fur trading at
Tadoussac and the Sault St Louis, or even of voyaging
along the Acadian seaboard, are far less absorbing than
the tale of the canoe and the war party. Amid the depths
of the interior Champlain reaped his richest experiences
as an explorer. With the Indians for his allies and
enemies he reached his fullest stature as a leader.

It is not important to dwell upon the minor excursions
which Champlain made from his headquarters at Quebec into
the country of the Montagnais. [Footnote: An Algonquin
tribe dwelling to the north of the St Lawrence, for the
most part between the Saguenay and the St Maurice.] He
saw little of the rocky northland which, with its myriad
lakes and splendid streams, sweeps from the St Lawrence
to Hudson Bay. Southward and westward lay his course to
the cantons of the Iroquois south of Lake Ontario and
the villages of the Hurons north of Lake Simcoe. Above
all, the expeditions of 1609, 1613, and 1615 are the
central episodes of his work as an explorer, each marked
by a distinct motive and abounding with adventures. In
1609 he discovered Lake Champlain and fought his first
battle with the Iroquois. In 1613 he was decoyed by a
lying guide into a fruitless search for the North-West
Passage by the route of the Ottawa. In 1615 he discovered
Lake Huron, traversed what is now Central Ontario, and
attacked the Iroquois in the heart of their own country.
These three journeys make the sum of Champlain's
achievements as a pioneer of the interior. For all three,
likewise, we have his own story, upon which all other
versions are based and from which they draw their most
striking details.

The discovery of Lake Champlain had its root in Champlain's
promise to the Algonquins that he would aid them in their
strife with the Iroquois. In turn this promise was based
upon the policy of conciliating those savage tribes from
whom the French derived their supply of furs, and with
whom throughout the St Lawrence basin they most constantly
came in contact.

It was the year which followed the founding of Quebec.
Of the twenty-eight who entered upon the first winter
eight only had survived, and half of these were ailing.
On June 5 relief came in the person of Des Marais, who
announced that his father-in-law, Pontgrave, was already
at Tadoussac. Champlain at once set out to meet him, and
it was arranged that Pontgrave should take charge of the
settlement for the coming year, while Champlain fulfilled
his promise to aid the Algonquins in their war with the
Iroquois. The full plan required that Pontgrave should
spend the winter in Canada, while Champlain, after his
summer campaign, was to return to France with a report
of his explorations.

The Indians had stated that the route to the land of the
Iroquois was easy, and Champlain's original design was
to proceed in a shallop capable of carrying twenty
Frenchmen. Early in July he reached the mouth of the
Richelieu, but on arriving at Chambly he found it quite
impossible to pass the falls with his shallop. Either
the expedition must be abandoned or the plan be radically
changed, with the consequence of incurring much greater
risks. To advance meant sending back the shallop with
its crew and stores, embarking in a canoe, and trusting
wholly to the good faith of the savages. The decision
was not easy. 'I was much troubled,' says Champlain. 'And
it gave me especial dissatisfaction to go back without
seeing a very large lake, filled with handsome islands
and with large tracts of fine land bordering on the lake,
where their enemies lived, according to their
representations. After duly thinking over the matter I
determined to go and fulfil my promise and carry out my
desire. Accordingly I embarked with the savages in their
canoes, taking with me two men, who went cheerfully.
After making known my plan to Des Marais and others in
the shallop, I requested the former to return to our
settlement with the rest of our company, giving them the
assurance that in a short time, by God's grace, I would
return to them.'

Having convinced himself, Champlain was next forced to
convince the Indians, whose first impulse was to abandon
the campaign when they found that they would be accompanied
by only three of the Frenchmen. Champlain's firmness,
however, communicated itself to them, and on July 12 they
set out from Chambly Basin to commence the portage. At
the top of the rapid a review of forces was held, and it
proved that the Indians numbered sixty men, equipped with
twenty-four canoes. Advancing through a beautifully wooded
country, the little war-party encamped at a point not
far below the outlet of Lake Champlain, taking the
precaution to protect themselves by a rough fortification
of tree trunks.

At this point Champlain introduces a graphic statement
regarding the methods which the Indians employ to guard
against surprise. On three sides they protect the camp
by fallen trees, leaving the river-bank without a barricade
in order that they may take quickly to their canoes.
Then, as soon as the camp has been fortified, they send
out nine picked men in three canoes to reconnoitre for
a distance of two or three leagues. But before nightfall
these scouts return, and then all lie down to sleep,
without leaving any pickets or sentries on duty. When
Champlain remonstrated with them for such gross
carelessness, they replied that they worked hard enough
during the daytime. The normal formation of an Indian
war-party embraced three divisions--the scouts, the main
body, and the hunters, the last always remaining in the
rear and chasing their game in a direction from which
they did not anticipate the appearance of the enemy.
Having arrived at a distance of two or three days' march
from their enemies, they united in a single party (save
for the scouts) and advanced stealthily by night. At this
juncture their food became baked Indian meal soaked in
water. They hid by day and made no fire, save that required
to smoke their tobacco.

Thus does Champlain describe the savage as he is about
to fall upon his foe. He gives special prominence to the
soothsayer, who on the eve of battle enters into elaborate
intercourse with the devil. Inside a wooden hut the
necromancer lies prostrate on the ground, motionless.
Then he springs to his feet and begins to torment himself,
counterfeiting strange tones to represent the speech of
the devil, and carrying on violent antics which leave
him in a stream of perspiration. Outside the hut the
Indians sit round on their haunches like apes and fancy
that they can see fire proceeding from the roof, although
the devil appears to the soothsayer in the form of a
stone. Finally, the chiefs, when they have by these means
learned that they will meet their enemy and kill a
sufficient number, arrange the order of battle. Sticks
a foot long are taken, one for each warrior, and these
are laid out on a level place five or six feet square.
The leader then explains the order of battle, after which
the warriors substitute themselves for the sticks and go
through the manoeuvres till they can do them without
confusion.

From this description of tactics we pass speedily to a
story of real war. Reaching Lake Champlain, the party
skirted the western shore, with fine views of the Green
Mountains, on the summit of which Champlain mistook white
limestone for snow. On July 29, at Crown Point, the
Iroquois were encountered at about ten o'clock in the
evening. Thus the first real battle of French and Indians
took place near that remarkable spot where Lake Champlain
and Lake George draw close together--the Ticonderoga of
Howe, the Carillon of Montcalm.

The Algonquins were in good courage, for, besides the
muskets of the three Frenchmen, they were inspired by a
dream of Champlain that he had seen the Iroquois drowning
in a lake. As soon as the enemies saw each other, both
began to utter loud cries and make ready their weapons.
The Algonquins kept out on the water; the Iroquois went
ashore and built a barricade. When the Algonquins had
made ready for battle

they dispatched two canoes to the enemy to inquire if
they wished to fight, to which the latter replied that
they wished nothing else; but they said that at present
there was not much light, and that it would be necessary
to wait for day so as to be able to recognize each
other; and that as soon as the sun rose they would
offer us battle. This was agreed to by our side.
Meanwhile the entire night was spent in dancing and
singing, on both sides, with endless insults and other
talk; as how little courage we had, how feeble a
resistance we should make against their arms, and that
when day came we should realize it to our ruin. Ours
also were not slow in retorting, telling them that
they would see such execution of arms as never before,
together with an abundance of such talk as is not
unusual in the siege of a town.

Care had been taken by the Algonquins that the presence
of Champlain and his two companions should come to the
Iroquois as a complete surprise. Each of the Frenchmen
was in a separate canoe, convoyed by the Montagnais. At
daylight each put on light armour and, armed with an
arquebus, went ashore. Champlain was near enough the
barricade to see nearly two hundred Iroquois, 'stout and
rugged in appearance. They came at a slow pace towards
us, with a dignity and assurance which greatly impressed
me, having three chiefs at their head.' Champlain, when
urged by his allies to make sure of killing the three
chiefs, replied that he would do his best, and that in
any case he would show them his courage and goodwill.

Then began the fight, which must be described in Champlain's
own words, for in all his writings there is no more famous
passage.

As soon as we had landed, they began to run for some
two hundred paces towards their enemies, who stood
firmly, not having as yet noticed my companions, who
went into the woods with some savages. Our men began
to call me with loud cries; and in order to give me
a passage way they opened in two parts and put me at
their head, where I marched some twenty paces in
advance of the rest, until I was within about twenty
paces of the enemy, who at once noticed me and, halting,
gazed at me, as I did also at them. When I saw them
make a move to fire at us, I rested my musket against
my cheek and aimed directly at one of the three chiefs.
With the same shot two fell to the ground; and one of
their men was so wounded that he died some time after.
I had loaded my musket with four balls. When our side
saw this shot so favourable for them, they began to
raise such loud cries that one could not have heard
it thunder. Meanwhile the arrows flew on both sides.
The Iroquois were greatly astonished that two men had
been so quickly killed, although they were equipped
with armour woven from cotton thread and with wood
which was proof against their arrows. This caused
great alarm among them. As I was loading again, one
of my companions fired a shot from the woods, which
astonished them anew to such a degree that, seeing
their chiefs dead, they lost courage and took to
flight, abandoning their camp and fort and fleeing
into the woods, whither I pursued them, killing still
more of them. Our savages also killed several of them
and took ten or twelve prisoners. The remainder escaped
with the wounded. Fifteen or sixteen were wounded on
our side with arrow shots, but they were soon healed.

The spoils of victory included a large quantity of Indian
corn, together with a certain amount of meal, and also
some of the native armour which the Iroquois had thrown
away in order to effect their escape. Then followed a
feast and the torture of one of the prisoners, whose
sufferings were mercifully concluded by a ball from
Champlain's musket, delivered in such wise that the
unfortunate did not see the shot. Like Montcalm and other
French commanders of a later date, Champlain found it
impossible to curb wholly the passions of his savage
allies. In this case his remonstrances had the effect of
gaining for the victim a coup de grace--which may be
taken as a measure of Champlain's prestige. The atrocious
savagery practised before and after death is described
in full detail. Champlain concludes the lurid picture as
follows: 'This is the manner in which these people behave
towards those whom they capture in war, for whom it would
be better to die fighting or to kill themselves on the
spur of the moment, as many do rather than fall into the
hands of their enemies.'

Beyond the point at which this battle was fought Champlain
did not go. At Ticonderoga he was within eighty miles of
the site of Albany. Had he continued, he would have
reached the Hudson from the north in the same summer the
Half Moon [Footnote: Henry Hudson, an English mariner
with a Dutch crew, entered the mouth of the Hudson in a
boat called the Half Moon on September 4, 1609. As named
by him, the river was called the 'Great North River of
New Netherland.'] entered it from the mouth. But the
Algonquins were content with their victory, though they
candidly stated that there was an easy route from the
south end of Lake George to 'a river flowing into the
sea on the Norumbega coast near that of Florida.' The
return to Quebec and Tadoussac was attended by no incident
of moment. The Montagnais, on parting with Champlain at
Tadoussac, generously gave him the head of an Iroquois
and a pair of arms, with the request that they be carried
to the king of France. The Algonquins had already taken
their departure at Chambly, where, says Champlain, 'we
separated with loud protestations of mutual friendship.
They asked me whether I would not like to go into their
country to assist them with continued fraternal relations;
and I promised that I would do so.'

As a contribution to geographical knowledge the
expedition of 1609 disclosed the existence of a noble
lake, to which Champlain fitly gave his own name. Its
dimensions he considerably over-estimated, but in all
essential respects its situation was correctly described,
while his comments on the flora and fauna are very
interesting. The garpike as he saw it, with
amplifications from the Indians as they had seen it, gave
him the subject for a good fish story. He was deeply
impressed, too, by the richness of the vegetation. His
attack on the Iroquois was not soon forgotten by that
relentless foe, and prepared a store of trouble for the
colony he founded. But the future was closed to his view,
and for the moment his was the glorious experience of
being the first to gaze with European eyes upon a lake
fairer and grander than his own France could show.

Four years elapsed before Champlain was enabled to plunge
once more into the depths of the forest--this time only
to meet with the severest disappointment of his life.
Much has been said already regarding his ambition to
discover a short route to Cathay. This was the great
prize for which he would have sacrificed everything save
loyalty to the king and duty to the church. For a moment
he seemed on the point of gaining it. Then the truth was
brutally disclosed, and he found that he had been wilfully
deceived by an impostor.

It was a feature of Champlain's policy that from time to
time French youths should spend the winter with the
Indians--hunting with them, living in their settlements,
exploring their country, and learning their language. Of
Frenchmen thus trained to woodcraft during Champlain's
lifetime the most notable were Etienne Brule, Nicolas
Vignau, Nicolas Marsolet, and Jean Nicolet. Unfortunately
the three first did not leave an unclouded record. Brule,
after becoming a most accomplished guide, turned traitor
and aided the English in 1629. Champlain accuses Marsolet
of a like disloyalty. [Footnote: Marsolet's defence was
that he acted under constraint.] Vignau, with more
imagination, stands on the roll of fame as a frank
impostor.

Champlain, as we have seen, spent the whole of 1612 in
France, and it was at this time that Vignau appeared in
Paris with a tale which could not but kindle excitement
in the heart of an explorer. The basis of fact was that
Vignau had undoubtedly passed the preceding winter with
the Algonquins on the Ottawa. The fable which was built
upon this fact can best be told in Champlain's own words.

He reported to me, on his return to Paris in 1612,
that he had seen the North Sea; that the river of the
Algonquins [the Ottawa] came from a lake which emptied
into it; and that in seventeen days one could go from
the Falls of St Louis to this sea and back again; that
he had seen the wreck and debris of an English ship
that had been wrecked, on board of which were eighty
men who had escaped to the shore, and whom the savages
killed because the English endeavoured to take from
them by force their Indian corn and other necessaries
of life; and that he had seen the scalps which these
savages had flayed off, according to their custom,
which they would show me, and that they would likewise
give me an English boy whom they had kept for me. This
intelligence greatly pleased me, for I thought that
I had almost found that for which I had for a long
time been searching.

Champlain makes it clear that he did not credit Vignau's
tale with the simple credulity of a man who has never
been to sea. He caused Vignau to swear to its truth at
La Rochelle before two notaries. He stipulated that Vignau
should go with him over the whole route. Finally, as they
were on the point of sailing together for Canada in the
spring of 1613, he once more adjured Vignau in the presence
of distinguished witnesses, saying 'that if what he had
previously said was not true, he must not give me the
trouble to undertake the journey, which involved many
dangers. Again he affirmed all that he had said, on peril
of his life.'

After taking these multiplied precautions against deceit,
Champlain left the Sault St Louis on May 29, 1613, attended
by four Frenchmen and one Indian, with Vignau for guide.
Ascending the Ottawa, they encountered their first
difficulties at the Long Sault, where Dollard forty-seven
years later was to lose his life so gloriously. Here the
passage of the rapids was both fatiguing and dangerous.
Prevented by the density of the wood from making a portage,
they were forced to drag their canoes through the water.
In one of the eddies Champlain nearly lost his life, and
his hand was severely hurt by a sudden jerk of the rope.
Having mounted the rapids, he met with no very trying
obstacle until he had gone some distance past the Chaudiere
Falls. His reference to the course of the Gatineau makes
no sense, and Laverdiere has had recourse to the not
improbable conjecture that the printer dropped out a
whole line at this point. Champlain also over-estimates
considerably the height of the Rideau Falls and is not
very exact in his calculation of latitude.

The hardships of this journey were greatly and unnecessarily
increased by Vignau, whose only hope was to discourage
his leader. In. the end it proved that 'our liar' (as
Champlain repeatedly calls him) had hoped to secure a
reward for his alleged discovery, believing that no one
would follow him long, even if an attempt were made to
confirm the accuracy of his report. But Champlain,
undeterred by portages and mosquitoes, kept on. Some
savages who joined him said that Vignau was a liar, and
on their advice Champlain left the Ottawa a short distance
above the mouth of the Madawaska. Holding westward at
some distance from the south shore, he advanced past
Muskrat Lake, and after a hard march came out again on
the Ottawa at Lake Allumette.

This was the end of Champlain's route in 1613. From the
Algonquins on Allumette Island he learned that Vignau
had wintered with them at the time he swore he was
discovering salt seas. Finally, the impostor confessed
his fraud and, falling on his knees, asked for mercy.
The Indians would gladly have killed him outright, but
Champlain spared his life, though how deeply he was moved
can be seen from these words: 'Overcome with wrath I had
him removed, being unable to endure him any longer in my
presence.' After his confession there was nothing for it
but to return by the same route. An astrolabe found some
years ago near Muskrat Lake may have been dropped from
Champlain's luggage on the journey westward, though he
does not mention the loss.

Apart from disclosing the course of the Ottawa, the Voyage
of 1613 is chiefly notable for its account of Indian
customs--for example, the mode of sepulture, the tabagie
or feast, and the superstition which leads the Algonquins
to throw pieces of tobacco into the cauldron of the
Chaudiere Falls as a means of ensuring protection against
their enemies. Of the feast given him by Tessouat, an
Algonquin chief, Champlain says:

The next day all the guests came, each with his
porringer and wooden spoon. They seated themselves
without order or ceremony on the ground in the cabin
of Tessouat, who distributed to them a kind of broth
made of maize crushed between two stones, together
with meat and fish which was cut into little pieces,
the whole being boiled together without salt. They
also had meat roasted on the coals and fish boiled
apart, which he also distributed. In respect to myself,
as I did not wish any of their chowder, which they
prepare in a very dirty manner, I asked them for some
fish and meat, that I might prepare it my own way,
which they gave me. For drink we had fine, clear water.
Tessouat, who gave the tabagie, entertained us without
eating himself, according to their custom.

The tabagie being over, the young men, who are not
present at the harangues and councils, and who during
the tabagie remain at the door of the cabins, withdrew,
when all who remained began to fill their pipes, one
and another offering me one. We then spent a full
half-hour in this occupation, not a word being spoken,
as is their custom.

But for the dexterous arrangement by which Champlain
managed to cook his own food, the tabagie would have been
more dangerous to health than the portage. In any case,
it was an ordeal that could not be avoided, for feasting
meant friendly intercourse, and only through friendly
intercourse could Champlain gain knowledge of that vast
wilderness which he must pierce before reaching his
long-sought goal, the sea beyond which lay China.

As for Vignau, his punishment was to make full confession
before all the French who had assembled at the Sault St
Louis to traffic with the Indians. When Champlain reached
this rendezvous on June 17, he informed the traders of
all that had happened, including

the malice of my liar, at which they were greatly
amazed. I then begged them to assemble in order that
in their presence, and that of the savages and his
companions, he might make declaration of his
maliciousness; which they gladly did. Being thus
assembled, they summoned him and asked him why he had
not shown me the sea of the north, as he had promised
me at his departure. He replied that he had promised
something impossible for him, since he had never seen
the sea, and that the desire of making the journey
had led him to say what he did, also that he did not
suppose that I would undertake it; and he begged them
to be pleased to pardon him, as he also begged me
again, confessing that he had greatly offended, and
if I would leave him in the country he would by his
efforts repair the offence and see this sea, and bring
back trustworthy intelligence concerning it the
following year; and in view of certain considerations
I pardoned him on this condition.

Vignau's public confession was followed by the annual
barter with the Indians, after which Champlain returned
to France.

We come now to the Voyage of 1615, which describes
Champlain's longest and most daring journey through the
forest--an expedition that occupied the whole period from
July 9, 1615, to the last days of June 1616. Thus for
the first time he passed a winter with the Indians,
enlarging greatly thereby his knowledge of their customs
and character. The central incident of the expedition
was an attack made by the Hurons and their allies upon
the stronghold of the Onondagas in the heart of the
Iroquois country. But while this war-party furnishes the
chief adventure, there is no page of Champlain's narrative
which lacks its tale of the marvellous. As a story of
life in the woods, the Voyage of 1615 stands first among
all Champlain's writings.

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