The Mariner of St Malo: A Chronicle of the Voyages of
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Stephen Leacock >> The Mariner of St Malo: A Chronicle of the Voyages of
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Cartier's plan was soon made. The river was now open and
all was ready for departure. Rather than allow himself
and his men to be overwhelmed by an attack of the great
concourse of warriors who surrounded the settlement of
Stadacona, he determined to take his leave in his own
way and at his own time, and to carry off with him the
leaders of the savages themselves. Following the custom
of his age, he did not wish to return without the
visible signs of his achievements. Donnacona had freely
boasted to him of the wonders of the great country far
up beyond Hochelaga, of lands where gold and silver
existed in abundance, where the people dressed like the
French in woollen clothes, and of even greater wonders
still,--of men with no stomachs, and of a race of beings
with only one leg. These things were of such import,
Cartier thought, that they merited narration to the king
of France himself. If Donnacona had actually seen them,
it was fitting that he should describe them in the
august presence of Francis I.
The result was a plot which succeeded. The two ships,
the Grande Hermine and the Emerillon, lay at anchor ready
to sail. Owing to the diminished numbers of his company,
Cartier had decided to abandon the third ship. He announced
a final ceremony to signalize the approaching departure.
On May 3, 1536, a tall cross, thirty-five feet high was
planted on the river bank. Beneath the cross-bar it
carried the arms of France, and on the upper part a scroll
in ancient lettering that read, 'FRANCISCUS PRIMUS DEI
GRATIA FRANCORUM REX REGNAT' Which means, freely translated,
'Francis I, by the grace of God King of the French, is
sovereign.' Donnacona, Taignoagny, Domagaya and a few
others, who had been invited to come on board the ships,
found themselves the prisoners of the French. At first
rage and consternation seized upon the savages, deprived
by this stratagem of their chief. They gathered in great
numbers on the bank, and their terrifying howls and
war-cries resounded throughout the night. But Donnacona,
whether from simplicity or craft, let himself be pacified
with new presents and with the promise of a speedy return
in the year following. He showed himself on the deck of
the captain's ship, and his delighted followers gathered
about in their canoes and swore renewed friendship with
the white men, whom they had, in all likelihood, plotted
to betray. Gifts were exchanged, and the French bestowed
a last shower of presents on the assembled Indians.
Finally, on May 6, the caravels dropped down the river,
and the homeward voyage began.
The voyage passed without incident. The ships were some
time in descending the St Lawrence. At Isle-aux-Coudres
they waited for the swollen tide of the river to abate.
The Indians still flocked about them in canoes, talking
with Donnacona and his men, but powerless to effect a
rescue of the chief. Contrary winds held the vessels
until, at last, on May 21, fair winds set in from the
west that carried them in an easy run to the familiar
coast of Gaspe, past Brion Island, through the passage
between Newfoundland and the Cape Breton shore, and so
outward into the open Atlantic.
'On July 6, 1536,' so ends Cartier's chronicle of this
voyage, 'we reached the harbour of St Malo, by the Grace
of our Creator, whom we pray, making an end of our
navigation, to grant us His Grace, and Paradise at the
end. Amen.'
CHAPTER VIII
THE THIRD VOYAGE
Nearly five years elapsed after Cartier's return to St
Malo before he again set sail for the New World. His
royal master, indeed, had received him most graciously.
Francis had deigned to listen with pleasure to the recital
of his pilot's adventures, and had ordered him to set
them down in writing. Moreover, he had seen and conversed
with Donnacona and the other captive Indians, who had
told of the wonders of their distant country. The Indians
had learned the language of their captors and spoke with
the king in French. Francis gave orders that they should
be received into the faith, and the registers of St Malo
show that on March 25, 1538, or 1539 (the year is a little
uncertain), there were baptized three savages from Canada
brought from the said country by 'honnete homme [honest
man], Jacques Cartier, captain of our Lord the King.'
But the moment was unsuited for further endeavour in the
New World. Francis had enough to do to save his own soil
from the invading Spaniard. Nor was it until the king of
France on June 15, 1538, made a truce with his inveterate
foe, Charles V, that he was able to turn again to American
discovery. Profoundly impressed with the vast extent and
unbounded resources of the countries described in Cartier's
narrative, the king decided to assume the sovereignty of
this new land, and to send out for further discovery an
expedition of some magnitude. At the head of it he placed
Jean Francois de la Roque, Sieur de Roberval, whom, on
January 15, 1540, he created Lord of Norumbega, viceroy
and lieutenant-general of Canada, Hochelaga, Saguenay,
Newfoundland, Belle Isle, Carpunt, Labrador, the Great
Bay, and Baccalaos. The name Norumbega is an Indian word,
and was used by early explorers as a general term for
the territory that is now Maine, New Brunswick, and Nova
Scotia. Baccalaos is the name often given by the French
to Newfoundland, the word itself being of Basque origin
and meaning 'codfish,' while Carpunt will be remembered
as a harbour beside Belle Isle, where Cartier had been
stormbound on his first voyage.
The king made every effort to further Roberval's expedition.
The Lord of Norumbega was given 45,000 livres and full
authority to enlist sailors and colonists for his
expedition. The latter appears to have been a difficult
task, and, after the custom of the day, recourse was
presently had to the prisons to recruit the ranks of the
prospective settlers. Letters were issued to Roberval
authorizing him to search the jails of Paris, Toulouse,
Bordeaux, Rouen, and Dijon and to draw from them any
convicts lying under sentence of death. Exception was
made of heretics, traitors, and counterfeiters, as unfitted
for the pious purpose of the voyage. The gangs of these
miscreants, chained together and under guard, came
presently trooping into St Malo. Among them, it is
recorded, walked a young girl of eighteen, unconvicted
of any crime, who of her own will had herself chained to
a malefactor, as hideous physically as morally, whose
lot she was determined to share.
To Roberval, as commander of the enterprise, was attached
Cartier in the capacity of captain-general and master-pilot.
The letters patent which contain the appointment speak
of him as our 'dear and well-beloved Jacques Cartier,
who has discovered the large countries of Canada and
Hochelaga which lie at the end of Asia.' Cartier received
from Roberval about 31,300 livres. The king gave to him
for this voyage the little ship Emerillon and commanded
him to obtain four others and to arm and equip the five.
The preparations for the voyage seem to have lasted
throughout the winter and spring of the years 1540-41.
The king had urged Cartier to start by the middle of
April, but it was not until May 23, 1541, that the ships
were actually able to set sail. Even then Roberval was
not ready to leave. Cannon, powder, and a varied equipment
that had been purchased for the voyage were still lying
at various points in Normandy and Champagne. Cartier,
anxious to follow the king's wishes, could wait no longer
and, at length, he set out with his five ships, leaving
Roberval to prepare other ships at Honfleur and follow
as he might. From first to last the relations of Cartier
and Roberval appear to need further explanation than that
which we possess. Roberval was evidently the nominal head
of the enterprise and the feudal lord of the countries
to be claimed, but Cartier seems to have been restless
under any attempt to dictate the actual plan to be adopted,
and his final desertion of Roberval may be ascribed to
the position in which he was placed by the divided command
of the expedition.
The expedition left St Malo on May 23, 1541, bearing in
the ships food and victuals for two years. The voyage
was unprosperous. Contrary winds and great gales raged
over the Atlantic. The ships were separated at sea, and
before they reached the shores of Newfoundland were so
hard put to it for fresh water that it was necessary to
broach the cider casks to give drink to the goats and
the cattle which they carried. But the ships came together
presently in safety in the harbour of Carpunt beside
Belle Isle, refitted there, and waited vainly for Roberval.
They finally reached the harbour of the Holy Cross at
Stadacona on August 23.
The savages flocked to meet the ships with a great display
of joy, looking eagerly for the return of their vanished
Donnacona. Their new chief, Agouhanna, with six canoes
filled with men, women, and children, put off from the
shore. The moment was a difficult one. Donnacona and all
his fellow-captives, except only one little girl, had
died in France. Cartier dared not tell the whole truth
to the natives, and he contented himself with saying that
Donnacona was dead, but that the other Indians had become
great lords in France, had married there and did not wish
to return. Whatever may have been the feeling of the
tribe at this tale, the new chief at least was well
pleased. 'I think,' wrote Cartier, in his narrative of
this voyage, 'he took it so well because he remained lord
and governor of the country by the death of the said
Donnacona.' Agouhanna certainly made a great show of
friendliness. He took from his own head the ornament of
hide and wampum that he wore and bound it round the brows
of the French leader. At the same time he put his arms
about his neck with every sign of affection.
When the customary ceremonies of eating and drinking,
speech-making, and presentations had ended, Cartier,
after first exploring with his boats, sailed with his
ships a few miles above Stadacona to a little river where
good anchorage was found, now known as the Cap Rouge
river. It enters the St Lawrence a little above Quebec.
Here preparations were at once made for the winter's
sojourn. Cannon were brought ashore from three of the
ships. A strong fort was constructed, and the little
settlement received the pretentious name Charlesbourg
Royal. The remaining part of the month of August 1541
was spent in making fortifications and in unloading the
ships. On September 2 two of the ships, commanded by Mace
Jalobert, Cartier's brother-in-law and companion of the
preceding voyage, and Etienne Nouel, his nephew, were
sent back to France to tell the king of what had been
done, and to let him know that Roberval had not yet
arrived.
As on his preceding voyages, Cartier was greatly impressed
by the aspect of the country about him. All round were
splendid forests of oak and maple and cedar and beech,
which surpassed even the beautiful woodlands of France.
Grape vines loaded with ripe fruit hung like garlands
from the trees. Nor was the forest thick and tangled,
but rather like an open park, so that among the trees
were great stretches of ground wanting only to be tilled.
Twenty of Cartier's men were set to turn the soil, and
in one day had prepared and sown about an acre and a half
of ground. The cabbage, lettuce, and turnip seed that
they planted showed green shoots within a week.
At the mouth of the Cap Rouge river there is a high point,
now called Redclyffe. On this Cartier constructed a second
fort, which commanded the fortification and the ships
below. A little spring supplied fresh water, and the
natural situation afforded a protection against attack
by water or by land. While the French laboured in building
the stockades and in hauling provisions and equipments
from the ships to the forts, they made other discoveries
that impressed them more than the forest wealth of this
new land. Close beside the upper fort they found in the
soil a good store of stones which they 'esteemed to be
diamonds.' At the foot of the slope along the St Lawrence
lay iron deposits, and the sand of the shore needed only,
Cartier said, to be put into the furnace to get the iron
from it. At the water's edge they found 'certain leaves
of fine gold as thick as a man's nail,' and in the slabs
of black slate-stone which ribbed the open glades of the
wood there were veins of mineral matter which shone like
gold and silver. Cartier's mineral discoveries have
unfortunately not resulted in anything. We know now that
his diamonds, still to be seen about Cap Rouge, are rock
crystals. The gold which he later on showed to Roberval,
and which was tested, proved genuine enough, but the
quantity of such deposits in the region has proved
insignificant. It is very likely that Cartier would make
the most of his mineral discoveries as the readiest means
of exciting his master's interest.
When everything was in order at the settlement, the
provisions landed, and the building well under way, the
leader decided to make a brief journey to Hochelaga, in
order to view more narrowly the rapids that he had seen,
and to be the better able to plan an expedition into the
interior for the coming spring. The account of this
journey is the last of Cartier's exploits of which we
have any detailed account, and even here the closing
pages of his narrative are unsatisfactory and inconclusive.
What is most strange is that, although he expressly says
that he intended to 'go as far as Hochelaga, of purpose
to view and understand the fashion of the saults [falls]
of water,' he makes no mention of the settlement of
Hochelaga itself, and does not seem to have visited it.
The Hochelaga expedition, in which two boats were used,
left the camp at Cap Rouge on September 7, 1541. A number
of Cartier's gentlemen accompanied him on the journey,
while the Viscount Beaupre was left behind in command of
the fort. On their way up the river Cartier visited the
chief who had entrusted his little daughter to the case
of the French at Stadacona at the time of Cartier's
wintering there. He left two young French boys in charge
of this Indian chief that they might learn the language
of the country. No further episode of the journey is
chronicled until on September 11 the boats arrived at
the foot of the rapids now called Lachine. Cartier tells
us that two leagues from the foot of the bottom fall was
an Indian village called Tutonaguy, but he does not say
whether or not this was the same place as the Hochelaga
of his previous voyage. The French left their boats and,
conducted by the Indians, walked along the portage path
that led past the rapids. There were large encampments
of natives beside the second fall, and they received the
French with every expression of good-will. By placing
little sticks upon the ground they gave Cartier to
understand that a third rapid was to be passed, and that
the river was not navigable to the country of Saguenay.
Convinced that further exploration was not possible for
the time being, the French returned to their boats. As
usual, a great concourse of Indians had come to the spot.
Cartier says that he 'understood afterwards' that the
Indians would have made an end of the French, but judged
them too strong for the attempt. The expedition started
at once for the winter quarters at Cap Rouge. As they
passed Hochelay--the abode of the supposed friendly chief
near Portneuf--they learned that he had gone down the
river ahead of them to devise means with Agouhanna for
the destruction of the expedition.
Cartier's narrative ends at this most dramatic moment of
his adventures. He seems to have reached the encampment
at Cap Rouge at the very moment when an Indian assault
was imminent. We know, indeed, that the attack, which,
from certain allusions in the narrative, seems presently
to have been made, was warded off, and that Cartier's
ships and a part at least of his company sailed home to
France, falling in with Roberval on the way. But the
story of the long months of anxiety and privation, and
probably of disease and hostilities with the Indians, is
not recorded. The narrative of the great explorer, as it
is translated by Hakluyt, closes with the following
ominous sentences:
'And when we were arrived at our fort, we understood by
our people that the savages of the country came not any
more about our fort, as they were accustomed, to bring
us fish, and that they were in a wonderful doubt and fear
of us. Wherefore our captain, having been advised by some
of our men which had been at Stadacona to visit them that
there was a wonderful number of the country people
assembled together, caused all things in our fortress to
be set in good order.' And beyond these words, Cartier's
story was never written, or, if written, it has been
lost.
CHAPTER IX
THE CLOSE OF CARTIER'S CAREER
Great doubt and uncertainty surround the ultimate fate
of Roberval's attempted colony, of which Cartier's
expedition was to form the advance guard. Roberval, as
already seen, had stayed behind in France when Cartier
sailed in 1541, because his equipment was not yet ready
for the voyage. Nor does he seem to have finally started
on his expedition for nearly a year after the departure
of Cartier. It has been suggested that Roberval did set
sail at some time in the summer of 1541, and that he
reached Cape Breton island and built a fort there. So,
at least, a tradition ran that was repeated many years
later by Lescarbot in his Histoire de la Nouvelle France.
If this statement is true, it must mean that Roberval
sailed home again at the close of 1541, without having
succeeded in finding Cartier, and that he prepared for
a renewed expedition in the spring of the coming year.
But the evidence for any such voyage is not conclusive.
What we know is that on April 16, 1542, Roberval sailed
out of the port of Rochelle with three tall ships and a
company of two hundred persons, men and women, and that
with him were divers gentlemen of quality. On June 8,
1542, his ships entered the harbour of St John's in
Newfoundland. They found there seventeen fishing vessels,
clear proof that by this time the cod fisheries of the
Newfoundland Banks were well known. They were, indeed,
visited by the French, the Portuguese, and other nations.
Here Roberval paused to refit his ships and to replenish
his stores. While he was still in the harbour, one day,
to his amazement, Cartier sailed in with the five ships
that he was bringing away from his abandoned settlement
at Charlesbourg Royal. Cartier showed to his superior
the 'diamonds' and the gold that he was bringing home
from Canada. He gave to Roberval a glowing account of
the country that he had seen, but, according to the meagre
details that appear in the fragment in Hakluyt's Voyages,
he made clear that he had been compelled to abandon his
attempt at settlement. 'He could not with his small
company withstand the savages, which went about daily to
annoy him, which was the cause of his return into France.'
Except what is contained in the few sentences of this
record we know nothing of what took place between Roberval
and Cartier. But it was quite clear that the latter
considered the whole enterprise as doomed to failure. It
is more than likely that Cartier was dissatisfied with
Roberval's delay, and did not care to continue under the
orders of a leader inferior to himself in capacity. Be
this as it may, their final parting stands recorded in
the following terms, and no historical document has as
yet come to light which can make the exact situation
known to us. 'When our general [Roberval], being furnished
with sufficient forces, commanded him [Cartier] to go
back with him, he and his company, moved as it seems with
ambition, because they would have all the glory of the
discovery of those parts themselves, stole privily away
the next night from us, and, without taking their leaves,
departed home for Brittany.' The story, it must be
remembered, comes from the pen of either Roberval or one
of his associates.
The subsequent history of Roberval's colony, as far as
it is known, can be briefly told. His ships reached the
site of Charlesbourg Royal late in July 1542. He landed
stores and munitions and erected houses, apparently on
a scale of some magnitude, with towers and fortifications
and with great kitchens, halls, and living rooms. Two
ships were sent home in the autumn with news of the
expedition, their leader being especially charged to find
out whether the rock crystals carried back by Cartier
had turned out to be diamonds. All the other colonists
remained and spent the winter in this place. In spite of
their long preparation and of their commodious buildings,
they seem to have endured sufferings as great as, or even
greater than, those of Cartier's men at Stadacona seven
years before. Supplies of food ran short, and even in
the autumn before the stern winter had begun it was
necessary to put the whole company on carefully measured
rations. Disease broke out among the French, as it had
broken out under Cartier, and about fifty of their number
perished before the coming of the spring. Their lot was
rendered more dreadful still by quarrelling and crime.
Roberval could keep his colonists in subjection only by
the use of irons and by the application of the lash. The
gibbet, reared beside the fort, claimed its toll of their
number.
The winter of their misery drew slowly to its close. The
ice of the river began to break in April. On June 5,
1543, their leader, Roberval, embarked on an expedition
to explore the Saguenay, 'leaving thirty persons behind
in the fort, with orders that if Roberval had not returned
by the first of July, they were to depart for France.'
Whither he went and what he found we do not know. We read
that on June 14. certain of his company came back with
messages to the fort: that five days later still others
came back with instructions that the company at the fort
were to delay their departure for France until July 19.
And here the narrative of the colony breaks off.
Of Roberval's subsequent fate we can learn hardly anything.
There is some evidence to show that Cartier was dispatched
from France to Canada to bring him back. Certain it is
that in April 1544 orders were issued for the summons of
both Cartier and Roberval to appear before a commission
for the settling of their accounts. The report of the
royal auditors credits Cartier apparently with a service
of eight months spent in returning to Canada to bring
Roberval home. On the strength of this, it is thought
likely that Cartier, returning safely to France in the
summer of 1542, was sent back again at the king's command
to aid in the return of the colonists, whose enterprise
was recognized as a failure. After this, Roberval is lost
to sight in the history of France. Certain chroniclers
have said that he made another voyage to the New World
and perished at sea. Others have it that he was assassinated
in Paris near the church of the Holy Innocents. But
nothing is known.
Cartier also is practically lost from sight during the
last fifteen years of his life. His name appears at
intervals in the local records, notably on the register
of baptisms as a godfather. As far as can be judged, he
spent the remainder of his days in comfortable retirement
in his native town of St Malo. Besides his house in the
seaport he had a country residence some miles distant at
Limoilou. This old house of solid and substantial stone,
with a courtyard and stone walls surrounding it, is still
standing. There can be no doubt that the famous pilot
enjoyed during his closing years a universal esteem. It
is just possible that in recognition of his services he
was elevated in rank by the king of France, for in certain
records of St Malo in 1549, he is spoken of as the Sieur
de Limoilou. But this may have been merely the sort of
courtesy title often given in those days to the proprietors
of small landed estates.
It was sometimes the custom of the officials of the port
of St Malo to mark down in the records of the day the
death of any townsman of especial note. Such an entry as
this is the last record of the great pilot. In the margins
of certain documents of September 1, 1557, there is
written in the quaint, almost unreadable penmanship of
the time: 'This said Wednesday about five in the morning
died Jacques Cartier.'
There is no need to enlarge upon the greatness of Cartier's
achievements. It was only the beginning of a far-reaching
work, the completion of which fell to other hands. But
it is Cartier's proud place in history to bear the title
of discoverer of a country whose annals were later to be
illumined by the exploits of a Champlain and a La Salle,
and the martyrdom of a Brebeuf; which was to witness,
for more than half a century, a conflict in arms between
Great Britain and France, and from that conflict to draw
the finest pages of its history and the noblest inspiration
of its future; a country upon whose soil, majestic in
its expanse of river, lake, and forest, was to be reared
a commonwealth built upon the union and harmony of the
two great races who had fought for its dominion.
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