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Champlain in the Wilderness
Champlain's journeyings with the Indians were the
holiday of his life, for at no other time was he so free to follow
the bent of his genius. First among the incentives which drew him to
the wilderness was his ambition to discover the pathway to China. In
1608 the St Lawrence had not been explored beyond the Lachine
Rapids, nor the Richelieu beyond Chambly--while the Ottawa was known
only by report. Beyond Lake St Louis stretched a mysterious world,
through the midst of which flowed the Great River. For an explorer
and a patriot the opportunity was priceless. The acquisition of vast
territory for the French crown, the enlargement of the trade zone,
the discovery of a route to Cathay, the prospect of Arcadian joys
and exciting adventures--beside such promptings hardship and danger
became negligible. And when exploring the wilderness Champlain was
in full command. Off the coast of Norumbega his wishes, as
geographer, had been subject to the special projects of De Monts and
Poutrincourt. At Fontainebleau he waited for weeks and months in the
antechambers of prelates or nobles. But when conducting an
expedition through the forest he was lord and master, a chieftain
from whose arquebus flew winged death.
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 Huron
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 fulfill 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 reconnoiter 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 maneuvers 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 amour 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 favorable 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
amour 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
amour 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 remonstrance 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
practiced 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 willfully 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 endeavored 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 Huron 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 marvelous. As a
story of life in the woods, the Voyage of 1615 stands first among
all Champlain's writings.
As in 1609, there was a mutuality of interest between Champlain and
the Indians who traded at the Sault. His desire was to explore and
theirs was to fight. By compromise they disclosed to him the
recesses of their country and he aided them against the Iroquois. In
1615 the Huron not only reminded him of his repeated promises to aid
them, but stated flatly that without such aid they could no longer
attend the annual market, as their enemies were making the route too
unsafe. On their side they promised a war-party of more than two
thousand men. A further proof of friendship was afforded by their
willingness to receive a missionary in their midst--the Recollet,
Father Joseph Le Caron.
Champlain's line of exploration in 1615-16 took the following
course. He first ascended the Ottawa to the mouth of the Mattawa.
Thence journeying overland by ponds and portages he entered Lake
Nipissing, which he skirted to the outlet. French River next took
him to Georgian Bay, or, as he calls it for geographical definition,
the Lake of the Attigouautan [Huron]. His own name for this vast
inland sea is the Mer Douce. That he did not explore it with any
degree of thoroughness is evident from the terms of his narrative as
well as from his statement that its length, east and west, is four
hundred leagues. What he saw of Lake Huron was really the east shore
of Georgian Bay, from the mouth of French River to the bottom of
Matchedash Bay. Here he entered the country of the Huron, which
pleased him greatly in comparison with the tract before traversed.
'It was very fine, the largest part being cleared, and many hills
and several rivers rendering the region agreeable. I went to see
their Indian corn, which was at that time [early in August] far
advanced for the season.'
Champlain's route through the district between Carmaron and Cahaigue
can best be followed in Father Jones's map of Huronia. [Footnote:
This map will be found in 'The Jesuit Missions 'in this Series, and
also in vol. xxxiv of 'The Jesuit Relations,' ed. Thwaites.] The
points which Champlain names are there indicated, in each case with
as careful identification of the locality as we are ever likely to
get. For those who are not specialists in the topography of Huronia
it may suffice that Champlain left Matchedash Bay not far from
Penetanguishene, and thence went to Carmaron at the very north of
the peninsula. Returning, he passed through some of the largest of
the Huron villages, and after sixteen days came out at Cahaigue,
which was situated close to Lake Simcoe and almost on the site of
the modern Hawkestone. It was here that most of the Huron warriors
assembled for the great expedition against the Onondagas. Setting
out on their march, they first went a little to the northward, where
they were joined on the shores of Lake Couchiching by another
contingent. The party thus finally made up, Champlain's line of
advance first took him to Sturgeon Lake. Afterwards it pursued that
important waterway which is represented by the Otonabee river, Rice
Lake, and the river Trent. Hence the warriors entered Lake Ontario
by the Bay of Quinte.
This country between Lake Simcoe and the Bay of Quinte seems to have
pleased Champlain greatly. He saw it in September, when the
temperature was agreeable and when the vegetation of the forest
could be enjoyed without the torment inflicted by mosquitoes. 'It is
certain,' he says, 'that all this region is very fine and pleasant.
Along the banks it seems as if the trees had been set out for
ornament in most places, and that all these tracts were in former
times inhabited by savages who were subsequently compelled to
abandon them from fear of their enemies. Vines and nut trees are
here very numerous. Grapes mature, yet there is always a very
pungent tartness, which is felt remaining in the throat when one
eats them in large quantities, arising from defect of cultivation.
These localities are very pleasant when cleared up.'
From the Bay of Quinte the war-party skirted the east shore of Lake
Ontario, crossing the head of the St Lawrence, and thence following
the southern shore about fourteen leagues. At this point the Indians
concealed all their canoes and struck into the woods towards Lake
Oneida. Though made up chiefly of Huron, the little army embraced
various allies, including a band of Algonquins. Whether from
over-confidence at having Champlain among them or from their natural
lack of discipline, the allies managed their attack very badly. On a
pond a few miles south of Oneida Lake lay the objective point of the
expedition--a palisade stronghold of the Onondagas. At a short
distance from this fort eleven of the enemy were surprised and taken
prisoners. What followed was much less fortunate. Champlain does not
state the number of Frenchmen present, but as his drawing shows
eleven musketeers, we may infer that his own followers were
distinctly more numerous than at the battle on Lake Champlain.
The height of the palisade was thirty feet, and a system of gutters
supplied abundant water for use in extinguishing fire. Champlain's
plan of attack was to employ a cavalier, or protected scaffolding,
which should overtop the palisade and could be brought close against
it. From the top of this framework four or five musketeers were to
deliver a fusillade against the Iroquois within the fort, while the
Hurons kindled a fire at the foot of the palisade. Champlain's
drawing shows the rest of the musketeers engaged in creating a
diversion at other points.
But everything miscarried. Though the cavalier was constructed, the
allies threw aside the wooden shields which Champlain had caused to
be made as a defense against the arrows of the Iroquois while the
fire was being kindled. Only a small supply of wood had been
collected, and even this was so placed that the flames blew away
from the palisade instead of towards it. On the failure of this
attempt to fire the fort all semblance of discipline was thrown to
the winds. 'There also rose such disorder among them,' says
Champlain, 'that one could not understand another, which greatly
troubled me. In vain did I shout in their ears and remonstrate to my
utmost with them as to the danger to which they exposed themselves
by their bad behavior, but on account of the great noise they made
they heard nothing. Seeing that shouting would only burst my head
and that my remonstrance were useless for putting a stop to the
disorder, I did nothing more, but determined, together with my men,
to do what we could and fire upon such as we could see.'
The fight itself lasted only three hours, and the casualties of the
attacking party were inconsiderable, since but two of their chiefs
and fifteen warriors were wounded. In addition to their repulse, the
Huron suffered a severe disappointment through the failure to join
them of five hundred allies who had given their solemn promise.
Although Champlain had received two severe wounds, one in the leg
and another in the knee, he urged a second and more concerted
attack. But in vain. The most the Huron would promise was to wait
four or five days for the expected reinforcements. At the end of
this time there was no sign of the five hundred, and the return
began. 'The only good point,' says Champlain, 'that I have seen in
their mode of warfare is that they make their retreat very securely,
placing all the wounded and aged in their centre, being well armed
on the wings and in the rear, and continuing this order without
interruption until they reach a place of security.'
Champlain himself suffered tortures during the retreat, partly from
his wounds, but even more from the mode of transportation. The
Indian method of removing the wounded was first to bind and pinion
them 'in such a manner that it is as impossible for them to move as
for an infant in its swaddling-clothes.' They were then carried in a
kind of basket, 'crowded up in a heap.' Doubtless as a mark of
distinction, Champlain was carried separately on the back of a
savage. His wound was so severe that when the retreat began he could
not stand. But the transportation proved worse than the wound. 'I
never found myself in such a gehenna as during this time, for the
pain which I suffered in consequence of the wound in my knee was
nothing in comparison with that which I endured while I was carried
bound and pinioned on the back of one of our savages. So that I lost
my patience, and as soon as I could sustain myself got out of this
prison, or rather gehenna.'
The enemy made no pursuit, but forced marches were kept up for
twenty-five or thirty leagues. The weather now grew cold, as it was
past the middle of autumn. The fight at the fort of the Onondagas
had taken place on October 10, and eight days later there was a
snowstorm, with hail and a strong wind. But, apart from extreme
discomfort, the retreat was successfully accomplished, and on the
shore of Lake Ontario they found the canoes intact.
It had been Champlain's purpose to spend the winter at Quebec, and
when the Huron were about to leave the east end of Lake Ontario for
their own country he asked them for a canoe and an escort. Four
Indians volunteered for this service, but no canoe could be had, and
in consequence Champlain was forced reluctantly to accompany the
Huron. With his usual patience he accepted the inevitable, which in
this case was only unpleasant because he was ill prepared for
spending a winter among the Indians. After a few days he perceived
that their plan was to keep him and his companions, partly as
security for themselves and partly that he might assist at their
councils in planning better safeguards against their enemies.
This enforced residence of Champlain among the Huron during the
winter of 1615-16 has given us an excellent description of Indian
customs. It was also the means of composing a dangerous quarrel
between the Huron and the Algonquins. Once committed to spending the
winter among the Indians, Champlain planned to make Huronia a point
of departure for still further explorations to the westward. Early
in 1616 there seemed to be a favorable opportunity to push forward
in the direction of Lake Superior. Then came this wretched brawl of
Huron and Algonquins, which threatened to beget bitter hatred and
war among tribes which hitherto had both been friendly to the
French. Accepting his duty, Champlain gave up his journey to the far
west and threw himself into the task of restoring peace. But the
measure of his disappointment is found in these words:
If ever there was one greatly disheartened, it was myself, since I
had been waiting to see this year what during many preceding ones I
had been seeking for with great toil and effort, through so many
fatigues and risks of my life. But realizing that I could not help
the matter, and that everything depended on the will of God, I
comforted myself, resolving to see it in a short time. I had such
sure information that I could not doubt the report of these people,
who go to traffic with others dwelling in those northern regions, a
great part of whom live in a place very abundant in the chase and
where there are great numbers of large animals, the skins of several
of which I saw, and which I concluded were buffaloes from their
representation of their form. Fishing is also very abundant there.
This journey requires forty days as well in returning as in going.
Thus Champlain almost had a chance to see the bison and the great
plains of the West. As it was, he did his immediate duty and
restored the peace of Huron and Algonquin. In partial compensation
for the alluring journey he relinquished, he had a better
opportunity to study the Huron in their settlements and to
investigate their relations with their neighbors--the Tobacco
Nation, the Neutral Nation, les Cheveux Releves, and the Race of
Fire. Hence the Voyage of 1615 not only describes the physical
aspects of Huronia, but contains intimate details regarding the life
of its people--their wigwams, their food, their manner of cooking,
their dress, their decorations, their marriage customs, their
medicine-men, their burials, their assemblies, their agriculture,
their amusements, and their mode of fishing. It is Champlain's most
ambitious piece of description, far less detailed than the
subsequent narratives of the Jesuits, but in comparison with them
gaining impact from being less diffuse.
It was on May 20, 1616, that Champlain left the Huron country, never
again to journey thither or to explore the recesses of the forest.
Forty days later he reached the Sault St Louis, and saw once more
his old friend Pontgrave. Thenceforward his life belongs not to the
wilderness, but to Quebec.
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Chronicles of Canada, The Founder of New France,
A Chronicle of Champlain, 1915
Chronicles of Canada |