Voyages of Samuel de Champlain, Vol. 1 by Samuel de Champlain

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Champlain, whose energy, zeal, and prudence had impressed themselves upon
the mind of De Monts, was appointed lieutenant of the expedition, and
intrusted with the civil administration, having a sufficient number of men
for all needed defence against savage intruders, Basque fisher men, or
interloping fur-traders.

On the 13th of April, 1608, Champlain left the port of Honfleur, and
arrived at the harbor of Tadoussac on the 3d of June. Here he found Pont
Grave, who had preceded him by a few days in the voyage, in trouble with a
Basque fur-trader. The latter had persisted in carrying on his traffic,
notwithstanding the royal commission to the contrary, and had succeeded in
disabling Pont Grave, who had but little power of resistance, killing one
of his men, seriously wounding Pont Grave himself, as well as several
others, and had forcibly taken possession of his whole armament.

When Champlain had made full inquiries into all the circumstances, he saw
clearly that the difficulty must be compromised; that the exercise of force
in overcoming the intruding Basque would effectually break up his plans for
the year, and bring utter and final ruin upon his undertaking. He wisely
decided to pocket the insult, and let justice slumber for the present. He
consequently required the Basque, who began to see more clearly the
illegality of his course, to enter into a written agreement with Pont Grave
that neither should interfere with the other while they remained in the
country, and that they should leave their differences to be settled in the
courts on their return to France.

Having thus poured oil upon the troubled waters, Champlain proceeded to
carry out his plans for the location and establishment of his colony. The
difficult navigation of the St. Lawrence above Tadoussac was well known to
him. The dangers of its numberless rocks, sand-bars, and fluctuating
channels had been made familiar to him by the voyage of 1603. He
determined, therefore, to leave his vessel in the harbor of Tadoussac, and
construct a small barque of twelve or fourteen tons, in which to ascend the
river and fix upon a place of settlement.

While the work was in progress, Champlain reconnoitred the neighborhood,
collecting much geographical information from the Indians relating to Lake
St. John and a traditionary salt sea far to the north, exploring the
Saguenay for some distance, of which he has given us a description so
accurate and so carefully drawn that it needs little revision after the
lapse of two hundred and seventy years.

On the last of June, the barque was completed, and Champlain, with a
complement of men and material, took his departure. As he glided along in
his little craft, he was exhilarated by the fragrance of the atmosphere,
the bright coloring of the foliage, the bold, picturesque scenery that
constantly revealed itself on both sides of the river. The lofty mountains,
the expanding valleys, the luxuriant forests, the bold headlands, the
enchanting little bays and inlets, and the numerous tributaries bursting
into the broad waters of the St. Lawrence, were all carefully examined and
noted in his journal. The expedition seemed more like a holiday excursion
than the grave prelude to the founding of a city to be renowned in the
history of the continent.

On the fourth day, they approached the site of the present city of Quebec.
The expanse of the river had hitherto been from eight to thirteen miles.
Here a lofty headland, approaching from the interior, advances upon the
river and forces it into a narrow channel of three-fourths of a mile in
width. The river St. Charles, a small stream flowing from the northwest,
uniting here with the St. Lawrence, forms a basin below the promontory,
spreading out two miles in one direction and four in another. The rocky
headland, jutting out upon the river, rises up nearly perpendicularly, and
to a height of three hundred and forty-five feet, commanding from its
summit a view of water, forest and mountain of surpassing grandeur and
beauty. A narrow belt of fertile land formed by the crumbling _debris_ of
ages, stretches along between the water's edge and the base of the
precipice, and was then covered with a luxurious growth of nut-trees. The
magnificent basin below, the protecting wall of the headland in the rear,
the deep water of the river in front, rendered this spot peculiarly
attractive. Here on this narrow plateau, Champlain resolved to place his
settlement, and forthwith began the work of felling trees, excavating
cellars, and constructing houses.

On the 3d day of July, 1608, Champlain laid the foundation of Quebec. The
name which he gave to it had been applied to it by the savages long before.
It is derived from the Algonquin word _quebio_, or _quebec_, signifying a
_narrowing_, and was descriptive of the form which the river takes at that
place, to which we have already referred.

A few days after their arrival, an event occurred of exciting interest to
Champlain and his little colony. One of their number, Jean du Val, an
abandoned wretch, who possessed a large share of that strange magnetic
power which some men have over the minds of others, had so skilfully
practised upon the credulity of his comrades that he had drawn them all
into a scheme which, aside from its atrocity, was weak and ill-contrived at
every point It was nothing less than a plan to assassinate Champlain, seize
the property belonging to the expedition, and sell it to the Basque
fur-traders at Tadoussac, under the hallucination that they should be
enriched by the pillage. They had even entered into a solemn compact, and
whoever revealed the secret was to be visited by instant death. Their
purpose was to seize Champlain in an unguarded moment and strangle him, or
to shoot him in the confusion of a false alarm to be raised in the night by
themselves. But before the plan was fully ripe for execution, a barque
unexpectedly arrived from Tadoussac with an instalment of utensils and
provisions for the colony. One of the men, Antoine Natel, who had entered
into the conspiracy with reluctance, and had been restrained from a
disclosure by fear, summoned courage to reveal the plot to the pilot of the
boat, first securing from him the assurance that he should be shielded from
the vengeance of his fellow-conspirators. The secret was forthwith made
known to Champlain, who, by a stroke of finesse, placed himself beyond
danger before he slept. At his suggestion, the four leading spirits of the
plot were invited by one of the sailors to a social repast on the barque,
at which two bottles of wine which he pretended had been given him at
Tadoussac were to be uncorked. In the midst of the festivities, the "four
worthy heads of the conspiracy," as Champlain satirically calls them, were
suddenly clapped into irons. It was now late in the evening, but Champlain
nevertheless summoned all the rest of the men into his presence, and
offered them a full pardon, on condition that they would disclose the whole
scheme and the motives which had induced them to engage in it. This they
were eager to do, as they now began to comprehend the dangerous compact
into which they had entered, and the peril which threatened their own
lives. These preliminary investigations rendered it obvious to Champlain
that grave consequences must follow, and he therefore proceeded with great
caution.

The next day, he took the depositions of the pardoned men, carefully
reducing them to writing. He then departed for Tadoussac, taking the four
conspirators with him. On consultation, he decided to leave them there,
where they could be more safely guarded until. Pont Grave and the principal
men of the expedition could return with them to Quebec, where he proposed
to give them a more public and formal trial. This was accordingly done. The
prisoners were duly confronted with the witnesses. They denied nothing, but
freely admitted their guilt. With the advice and concurrence of Pont Grave,
the pilot, surgeon, mate, boatswain, and others, Champlain condemned the
four conspirators to be hung; three of them, however, to be sent home for a
confirmation or revision of their sentence by the authorities in France,
while the sentence of Jean Du Val, the arch-plotter of the malicious
scheme, was duly executed in their presence, with all the solemn forms and
ceremonies usual on such occasions. Agreeably to a custom of that period,
the ghastly head of Du Val was elevated on the highest pinnacle of the fort
at Quebec, looking down and uttering its silent warning to the busy
colonists below; the grim Signal to all beholders, that "the way of the
transgressor is hard."

The catastrophe, had not the plot been nipped in the bud, would have been
sure to take place. The final purpose of the conspirators might not have
been realized; it must have been defeated at a later stage; but the hand of
Du Val, prompted by a malignant nature, was nerved to strike a fatal blow,
and the life of Champlain would have been sacrificed at the opening of the
tragic scene.

The punishment of Du Val, in its character and degree, was not only
agreeable to the civil policy of the age, but was necessary for the
protection of life and the maintenance of order and discipline in the
colony. A conspiracy on land, under the present circumstances, was as
dangerous as a mutiny at sea; and the calm, careful, and dignified
procedure of Champlain in firmly visiting upon the criminal a severe though
merited punishment, reveals the wisdom, prudence, and humanity which were
prominent elements in his mental and moral constitution.

ENDNOTES:

56. _Membertou_. See Pierre Biard's account of his death in 1611.
_Relations des Jesuites_. Quebec ed, Vol. I. p. 32.

57. Had the distinguished navigators who early visited the coasts of North
America illustrated their narratives by drawings and maps, it would
have added greatly to their value. Capt. John Smith's map, though
necessarily indefinite and general, is indispensable to the
satisfactory study of his still more indefinite "Description of New
England." It is, perhaps, a sufficient apology for the vagueness of
Smith's statements, and therefore it ought to be borne in mind, that
his work was originally written, probably, from memory, at least for
the most part, while he was a prisoner on board a French man-of-war in
1615. This may be inferred from the following statement of Smith
himself. In speaking of the movement of the French fleet, he says:
"Still we spent our time about the Iles neere _Fyall_: where to keepe
my perplexed thoughts from too much meditation of my miserable estate,
I writ this discourse" _Vide Description of New England_ by Capt. John
Smith, London, 1616.

While the descriptions of our coast left by Champlain are invaluable to
the historian and cannot well be overestimated, the process of making
these surveys, with his profound love of such explorations and
adventures, must have given him great personal satisfaction and
enjoyment It would be difficult to find any region of similar extent
that could offer, on a summer's excursion, so much beauty to his eager
and critical eye as this. The following description of the Gulf of
Maine, which comprehends the major part of the field surveyed by
Champlain, that lying between the headlands of Cape Sable and Cape Cod,
gives an excellent idea of the infinite variety and the unexpected and
marvellous beauties that are ever revealing themselves to the voyager
as he passes along our coast.--

"This shoreland is also remarkable, being so battered and frayed by sea
and storm, and worn perhaps by arctic currents and glacier beds, that
its natural front of some 250 miles is multiplied to an extent of not
less than 2,500 miles of salt-water line; while at an average distance
of about three miles from the mainland, stretches a chain of outposts
consisting of more than three hundred islands, fragments of the main,
striking in their diversity on the west; low, wooded and grassy to the
water's edge, and rising eastward through bolder types to the crowns
and cliffs of Mount Desert and Quoddy Head, an advancing series from
beauty to sublimity: and behind all these are deep basins and broad
river-mouths, affording convenient and spacious harbors, in many of
which the navies of nations might safely ride at anchor.... Especially
attractive was the region between the Piscataqua and Penobscot in its
marvellous beauty of shore and sea, of island and inlet, of bay and
river and harbor, surpassing any other equally extensive portion of the
Atlantic coast, and compared by travellers earliest and latest, with
the famed archipelago of the Aegean." _Vide Maine, Her Place in
History_, by Joshua L. Chamberlain, LL D, President of Bowdoin College,
Augusta, 1877, pp. 4-5.

CHAPTER VI.

ERECTION OF BUILDINGS AT QUEBEC.--THE SCURVY AND THE STARVING SAVAGES.--
DISCOVERY OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN, AND THE BATTLE AT TICONDEROGA.--CRUELTIES
INFLICTED ON PRISONERS OF WAR, AND THE FESTIVAL AFTER VICTORY.--
CHAMPLAIN'S RETURN TO FRANCE AND HIS INTERVIEW WITH HENRY IV.--VOYAGE TO
NEW FRANCE AND PLANS OF DISCOVERY.--BATTLE WITH THE IROQUOIS NEAR THE MOUTH
OF THE RICHELIEU.--REPAIR OF BUILDINGS AT QUEBEC.--NEWS OF THE
ASSASSINATION OF HENRY IV.--CHAMPLAIN'S RETURN TO FRANCE AND HIS CONTRACT
OF MARRIAGE.--VOYAGE TO QUEBEC IN 1611.

On the 18th of September, 1608, Pont Grave, having obtained his cargo of
furs and peltry, sailed for France.

The autumn was fully occupied by Champlain and his little band of colonists
in completing the buildings and in making such other provisions as were
needed against the rigors of the approaching winter. From the forest trees
beams were hewed into shape with the axe, boards and plank were cut from
the green wood with the saw, walls were reared from the rough stones
gathered at the base of the cliff, and plots of land were cleared near the
settlement, where wheat and rye were sown and grapevines planted, which
successfully tested the good qualities of the soil and climate.

Three lodging-houses were erected on the northwest angle formed by the
junction of the present streets St. Peter and Sous le Fort, near or on the
site of the Church of Notre Dame. Adjoining, was a store-house. The whole
was, surrounded by a moat fifteen feet wide and six feet deep, thus giving
the settlement the character of a fort; a wise precaution against a sudden
attack of the treacherous savages. [58]

At length the sunny days of autumn were gone, and the winter, with its
fierce winds and its penetrating frosts and deep banks of snow, was upon
them. Little occupation could be furnished for the twenty-eight men that
composed the colony. Their idleness soon brought a despondency that hung
like a pall upon their spirits. In February, disease made its approach. It
had not been expected. Every defence within their knowledge had been
provided against it. Their houses were closely sealed and warm; their
clothing was abundant; their food nutritious and plenty. But a diet too
exclusively of salt meat had, notwithstanding, in the opinion of Champlain,
and we may add the want, probably, of exercise and the presence of bad air,
induced the _mal de la terre_ or scurvy, and it made fearful havoc with his
men. Twenty, five out of each seven of their whole number, had been carried
to their graves before the middle of April, and half of the remaining eight
had been attacked by the loathsome scourge.

While the mind of Champlain was oppressed by the suffering and death that
were at all times present in their abode, his sympathies were still further
taxed by the condition of the savages, who gathered in great numbers about
the settlement, in the most abject misery and in the last stages of
starvation. As Champlain could only furnish them, from his limited stores,
temporary and partial relief, it was the more painful to see them slowly
dragging their feeble frames about in the snow, gathering up and devouring
with avidity discarded meat in which the process of decomposition was far
advanced, and which was already too potent with the stench of decay to be
approached by his men.

Beyond the ravages of disease [59] and the starving Indians, Champlain adds
nothing more to complete the gloomy picture of his first winter in Quebec.
The gales of wind that swept round the wall of precipice that protected
them in the rear, the drifts of snow that were piled up in fresh
instalments with every storm about their dwelling, the biting frost, more
piercing and benumbing than they had ever experienced before, the unceasing
groans of the sick within, the semi-weekly procession bearing one after
another of their diminishing numbers to the grave, the mystery that hung
over the disease, and the impotency of all remedies, we know were prominent
features in the picture. But the imagination seeks in vain for more than a
single circumstance that could throw upon it a beam of modifying and
softening light, and that was the presence of the brave Champlain, who bore
all without a murmur, and, we may be sure, without a throb of unmanly fear
or a sensation of cowardly discontent.

But the winter, as all winters do, at length melted reluctantly away, and
the spring came with its verdure, and its new life. The spirits of the
little remnant of a colony began to revive. Eight of the twenty-eight with
which the winter began were still surviving. Four had escaped attack, and
four were rejoicing convalescents.

On the 5th of June, news came that Pont Grave had arrived from France, and
was then at Tadoussac, whither Champlain immediately repaired to confer
with him, and particularly to make arrangements at the earliest possible
moment for an exploring expedition into the interior, an undertaking which
De Monts had enjoined upon him, and which was not only agreeable to his own
wishes, but was a kind of enterprise which had been a passion with him from
his youth.

In anticipation of a tour of exploration during the approaching summer,
Champlain had already ascertained from the Indians that, lying far to the
southwest, was an extensive lake, famous among the savages, containing many
fair islands, and surrounded by a beautiful and productive country. Having
expressed a desire to visit this region, the Indians readily offered to act
as guides, provided, nevertheless, that he would aid them in a warlike raid
upon their enemies, the Iroquois, the tribe known to us as the Mohawks,
whose, homes were beyond the lake in question. Champlain without hesitation
acceded to the condition exacted, but with little appreciation, as we
confidently believe, of the bitter consequences that were destined to
follow the alliance thus inaugurated; from which, in after years, it was
inexpedient, if not impossible, to recede.

Having fitted out a shallop, Champlain left Quebec on his tour of
exploration on the 18th of June, 1609, with eleven men, together with a
party of Montagnais, a tribe of Indians who, in their hunting and fishing
excursions, roamed over an indefinite region on the north side of the St.
Lawrence, but whose headquarters were at Tadoussac. After ascending the St
Lawrence about sixty miles, he came upon an encampment of two hundred or
three hundred savages, Hurons [60] and Algonquins, the former dwelling on
the borders of the lake of the same name, the latter on the upper waters of
the Ottawa. They had learned something of the French from a son of one of
their chiefs, who had been at Quebec the preceding autumn, and were now on
their way to enter into an alliance with the French against the Iroquois.
After formal negotiations and a return to Quebec to visit the French
settlement and witness the effect of their firearms, of which they had
heard and which greatly excited their curiosity, and after the usual
ceremonies of feasting and dancing, the whole party proceeded up the river
until they reached the mouth of the Richelieu. Here they remained two days,
as guests of the Indians, feasting upon fish, venison, and water-fowl.

While these festivities were in progress, a disagreement arose among the
savages, and the bulk of them, including the women, returned to their
homes. Sixty warriors, however, some from each of the three allied tribes,
proceeded up the Richelieu with Champlain. At the Falls of Chambly, finding
it impossible for the shallop to pass them, he directed the pilot to return
with it to Quebec, leaving only two men from the crew to accompany him on
the remainder of the expedition. From this point, Champlain and his two
brave companions entrusted themselves to the birch canoe of the savages.
For a short distance, the canoes, twenty-four in all, were transported by
land. The fall and rapids, extending as far as St. John, were at length
passed. They then proceeded up the river, and, entering the lake which now
bears the name of Champlain, crept along the western bank, advancing after
the first few days only in the night, hiding themselves during the day in
the thickets on the shore to avoid the observation of their enemies, whom
they were now liable at any moment to meet.

On the evening of the 29th of July, at about ten o'clock, when the allies
were gliding noiselessly along in restrained silence, as they approached
the little cape that juts out into the lake at Ticonderoga, near where Fort
Carillon was afterwards erected by the French, and where its ruins are
still to be seen, [61] they discovered a flotilla of heavy canoes, of oaken
bark, containing not far from two hundred Iroquois warriors, armed and
impatient for conflict. A furor and frenzy as of so many enraged tigers
instantly seized both parties. Champlain and his allies withdrew a short
distance, an arrow's range from the shore, fastening their canoes by poles
to keep them together, while the Iroquois hastened to the water's edge,
drew up their canoes side by side, and began to fell trees and construct a
barricade, which they were well able to accomplish with marvellous facility
and skill. Two boats were sent out to inquire if the Iroquois desired to
fight, to which they replied that they wanted nothing so much, and, as it
was now dark, at sunrise the next morning they would give them battle. The
whole night was spent by both parties in loud and tumultuous boasting,
berating each other in the roundest terms which their savage vocabulary
could furnish, insultingly charging each other with cowardice and weakness,
and declaring that they would prove the truth of their assertions to their
utter ruin the next morning.

When the sun began to gild the distant mountain-tops, the combatants were
ready for the fray. Champlain and his two companions, each lying low in
separate canoes of the Montagnais, put on, as best they could, the light
armor in use at that period, and, taking the short hand-gun, or arquebus,
went on shore, concealing themselves as much as possible from the enemy. As
soon as all had landed, the two parties hastily approached each other,
moving with a firm and determined tread. The allies, who had become fully
aware of the deadly character of the hand-gun and were anxious to see an
exhibition of its mysterious power, promptly opened their ranks, and
Champlain marched forward in front, until he was within thirty paces of the
Iroquois. When they saw him, attracted by his pale face and strange armor,
they halted and gazed at him in a calm bewilderment for some seconds. Three
Iroquois chiefs, tall and athletic, stood in front, and could be easily
distinguished by the lofty plumes that waved above their heads. They began
at once to make ready for a discharge of arrows. At the same instant,
Champlain, perceiving this movement, levelled his piece, which had been
loaded with four balls, and two chiefs fell dead, and another savage was
mortally wounded by the same shot. At this, the allies raised a shout
rivalling thunder in its stunning effect. From both sides the whizzing
arrows filled the air. The two French arquebusiers, from their ambuscade in
the thicket, immediately attacked in flank, pouring a deadly fire upon the
enemy's right. The explosion of the firearms, altogether new to the
Iroquois, the fatal effects that instantly followed, their chiefs lying
dead at their feet and others fast falling, threw them into a tumultuous
panic. They at once abandoned every thing, arms, provisions, boats, and
camp, and without any impediment, the naked savages fled through the forest
with the fleetness of the terrified deer. Champlain and his allies pursued
them a mile and a half, or to the first fall in the little stream that
connects Lake Champlain [62] and Lake George. [63] The victory was
complete. The allies gathered at the scene of conflict, danced and sang in
triumph, collected and appropriated the abandoned armor, feasted on the
provisions left by the Iroquois, and, within three hours, with ten or
twelve prisoners, were sailing down the lake on their homeward voyage.

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