Once in Quebec, Champlain lost no time in laying the foundation of a Government House, since known as the Château of St. Louis, reared on the heights ofthe rock. This building came to be the residence of every succeeding Governor of Canada for two hundred years, until one night it was wholly destroyed by fire and never rebuilt. In the year it was begun, too, the Recollet priests began to build their convent, and other large buildings arose.
So now you see quite a flourishing little town was fast growing up in the midst of the Canadian wilderness. But with the advancement of his schemes came many new troubles for the lion-hearted Champlain. In the first place, the Indians had acquired a passion for strong drink—"fire-water" they called it,—and although people of their fierce, reckless disposition should never have been allowed to touch a drop, yet the fur-traders were so callous and greedy as to be always ready to supply them with gallons and hogsheads of the fatal brandy. The consequences were what might have been expected, and Champlain was very angry as he looked upon the scenes of riot and bloodshed. But his efforts to keep liquor from the Indians only made the traders hate him more bitterly. To this source of anxiety was added another: the bloodthirsty feud between the Iroquois and the Algonquins and Hurons, which occasioned constant bloody massacres and made the life of the French colonists at Quebec, Three Rivers, and Tadoussac one of never-ending danger. On a certain night a band crept down the St. Lawrence silently to Quebec, having sworn an oath to wipe the city of the pale-faces from the face of the earth. But the stone buildings, the cannon and muskets in the hands of the determined Frenchmendaunted them and they beat a retreat. Not to be wholly balked of blood, they fell upon the Algonquins, who were bringing furs to Quebec, slaughtering them without mercy. Then there were plots against Quebec, even amongst the tribes which Champlain considered friendly, for savages were, and ever will be, fickle, and often the most trifling incident will tempt them to treachery.
Meantime Champlain's friends in France, the associated merchants, had lost their fur-trading monopoly because they had failed to fulfil their pledges. In consequence of this, the monopoly was handed over by the King to two Huguenot gentlemen, William and Emery de Caen, an uncle and nephew. The uncle was a merchant and the nephew was a sea captain, and, although Protestants themselves, they were charged not to settle any but Catholics in the colony. This arrangement turned out a very bad one. The Huguenots and Catholics quarrelled in New France, as they had been quarrelling in Old France, and finally, so violent grew the disputes, that the King joined the two associations into one under the title of "the Company of Montmorency," with Champlain still as Viceroy. Matters thereafter went so much more smoothly that Champlain decided to take the opportunity of paying another visit to his native country. With him he took his beautiful young wife, Helen de Champlain, who had had nearly five years amongst the Indians and the rough fur-traders, and had endured many hardships and faced many dangers. You must bear in mind that when she sailed away she left behind only fifty of herfellow-countrymen in Quebec. This is a very small number, but they were for the most part very much in earnest, very hardy and rugged, and inspired by Champlain in a strong belief in the future of the country. Before we have finished our history you will see whether that belief was justified or not.
Two years did the doughty hero Champlain linger in Old France. To everybody he met, king, courtier, priest, and peasant, he had but one subject: Canada, never ceasing all this while to urge the needs of the colony across the sea and to further its interests by tongue and pen. It needed all his influence. The Duke of Montmorency, becoming disgusted by the perpetual squabbles of the merchants, sold his rights as patron of Canada to the Duke de Ventadour, a religious enthusiast, whose passion was not trade nor settlement, but saving human souls. Although bred a soldier, he had actually entered a monkish order, vowing to spend the rest of his days in religious exercises, and it was this nobleman who now sent out to Quebec the first little body of Jesuit priests, five in all, that arrived in that colony. Now these Jesuits were the very last people either Champlain or the Huguenots wanted in Canada. They belonged to a very powerful, crafty order. They could sway both king, queen, and minister to their wishes. De Caen and the Huguenot traders received the five priests when they arrived at Quebec as coldly as Poutraincourt had done in Acadia, but theRecollets generously gave them shelter in their convent until they could build one for themselves. This they soon did on the very spot where, ninety years before, Jacques Cartier had laid out his little fort. These five priests were destined to have some thrilling experiences and to meet with terrible ends, all of which you shall hear in due time.
Meanwhile Champlain at home in France saw with eagle eye that Huguenot and Catholic could never live together in peace across the wide waste of waters. They were always quarrelling. The colony did not grow as it should, in spite of the fact that in a single year 22,000 beaver skins were sent by the De Caens to France. Nor was religion attended to as devoutly as he thought the Huguenots ought to attend to it. But perhaps this was because the Huguenots did not acknowledge the authority of the Pope. So he wrote strongly to De Caen about it, and the letter fell into the hands of the most powerful, most crafty man of that era, far more powerful than King Louis the Thirteenth himself. Cardinal Richelieu was the King's Prime Minister. Having at length accomplished great things for his master in France, Richelieu now turned his attention to Canada. With a stroke of the pen he abolished the monopoly of the De Caens and founded the "Company of the Hundred Associates," with himself at the head. Thence-forward no Huguenot was to be permitted to enter the colony under any conditions. The new Company was given a perpetual monopoly of the fur trade and control of other commerce, besides being made lord ofan enormous territory extending from the Arctic Ocean to Florida. Moreover, the Company was bound to send out at once a number of labourers and mechanics and 4000 other colonists. Champlain was made one of the Associates, and continued in his command of Quebec. Canada was now to be governed directly by the King, just as if it were one of the provinces of Old France, and nobles were to be created who would take their titles from their estates.
All then seemed bright and rosy for the colony on the St. Lawrence. But the best-laid plans, you know, "gang aft agley"; Richelieu, with all his strength and cunning, had no power over English ships, and English sailors would only laugh at his pretensions. At the very moment when Champlain saw all his hopes about to be realised, the most cruel blow that had yet fallen fell upon him. War had been declared between France and England, and King Charles of England, seeing his American colonies already prosperous, wished to extend his royal sway over the whole continent. Thus, while the little band of Frenchmen in Quebec were nearly starving, owing to supplies running short during the winter of 1628, and were straining their eyes for the arrival of the great fleet of eighteen ships sent out by Richelieu, an English admiral sailed coolly up the St. Lawrence. Sir David Kirke commanded a stout little fleet for King Charles, and it occurred to him that it would be very good policy to capture Quebec. Imagine the dismay of Champlain, the priests, the traders, farmers, and soldiers of the colony when,having waited for succour until long past midsummer, the oncoming ships turned out to be English, and they received a summons from the English admiral to surrender! How weak his fort was Champlain well knew, but that did not prevent him from replying firmly and with dignity to the summons, saying that he would defend his post until death. Secretly he hoped that the French fleet he expected would come in time. Although he intended to take Quebec, Kirke did not press his advantage just then. He had now a far better plan: to lie and wait for this same French fleet, and cripple the colony in that way. His reward duly came. Off Gaspé, Kirke met the squadron from France, and after a fierce struggle captured all the ships but one, together with much booty.
What a plight was the brave Champlain now in! Cut off from all communication with France, for at least ten months must his forlorn band wait before assistance could arrive. He set to work to grapple with the difficulty by sending all his men farming, and hunting, and fishing. Very little land was cleared as yet; it hardly seemed worth while clearing it as long as the dreaded Iroquois were allowed to shoot the farmers as they worked, and afterwards to swoop down and burn up the crops. Worst of all to Champlain's mind, the Hurons and Algonquins whom he had befriended chose such a time as this to manifest their enmity to him. Instead of helping, they refused him succour. But food of some sort must be got. He set his people digging up wild roots in the woods, and despatched a boat down theriver to search the gulf for a friendly trader or fisherman who would give them dried codfish. At the end of a long year of hardship, when no French ship came to his relief, Champlain was ready, in sheer desperation, to march his hungry little garrison against the Iroquois, capture one of their towns, and pillage it of corn. But before he could really carry out this dangerous scheme the English admiral once more showed his face in the St. Lawrence. This time it seemed far better to surrender to such an enemy as the English than to perish miserably from starvation in the wilderness. Kirke offered honourable terms, and Champlain, perceiving how utterly useless was resistance, gave up for a time the fort, magazine, and dwellings of Quebec. On the 24th July 1629 Champlain and ten priests and a number of others embarked on board one of the English ships to be carried to England, and from thence to France. For the first time in its history, the flag of England was hoisted, amidst great cheering on the part of the lusty English mariners, over Quebec.
You must not suppose the English abused their victory. All the settlers who chose were allowed to remain on their property. Lewis Kirke was installed as English Governor, and treated all with kindness, giving them bounteous provisions.
On the way down the river the ship bearing away Champlain met, near Tadoussac, Emery de Caen, returning with supplies for Quebec. Too late! Kirke turned his guns on the Frenchmen, and De Caen was forced at the cannon's mouth to surrender. But although he did so, young De Caen told theEnglishman that which completely spoilt Kirke's rest that night. "I have heard," quoth De Caen, "that peace hath been declared between the two Crowns, and that when you captured Quebec and the sixteen French ships, King Louis and King Charles had been friends for a good two months. You have, therefore, done a gross and unlawful thing."
De Caen spoke not falsely, for so it turned out to be. When Kirke anchored in Plymouth harbour he learnt, to his chagrin, that peace had really been made some time before, and that all conquests from France must be restored. The doughty, scarred old Governor, Champlain, posted in hot haste to London, and unfolded the tale of Quebec's surrender to King Louis' ambassador. But, strange as it may appear, King Louis was in no hurry to get back Quebec into his hands again. It seemed to His Majesty, fond of his ease and pleasure, that all Canada was far more trouble than it was worth. The capture of Quebec did not mean the loss of the whole of New France. Several places in Acadia still belonged to King Louis, besides the Island of Cape Breton. But even these possessions only seemed to promise more expense and bloodshed and wrangling.
In the meanwhile another personage—a Scotsman—had appeared on the scene and laid claim to a large part of the country. Sir William Alexander was a man of letters and a successful courtier. Being a great favourite of old King James the First, as long ago as 1621 that monarch had listened graciously to Alexander when he averred that, by reason of Cabot's discoveries, the whole North-AmericanContinent belonged to England by right. "As there is already a New England, your Majesty should go further and found a New Scotland." King James desired nothing better. He gave Sir William a grant of the Acadian Peninsula and a great deal of the adjoining mainland for his ambitious and patriotic purpose. As the King was fond of Latin, instead of New Scotland the country was christened Nova Scotia. The English set out modestly at first to people the country. As Sir William was satisfied for some years in sending out a trading ship each year to Nova Scotia and in exploring the region, there was no fighting, or even ill-feeling, between the French and the English. When in 1625 King James died, King Charles not only confirmed Alexander's charter, but actually allowed his enterprising subject to establish an Order of Knights-Baronets of Nova Scotia. Any wealthy and respectable person could, by paying a certain sum towards the funds of the new colony, obtain an estate of 18 square miles and become a baronet; and over one hundred persons did this, and some of their descendants are baronets in Great Britain to this day.
Sir William had no desire to drive away the French settlers in Acadia, which, you remember, was more or less in the hands of Biencourt, son of Poutraincourt. Besides Biencourt there lived in Acadia at this time the two La Tours, father and son. Claude de la Tour, the father, was a brave and courtly Huguenot. He occupied a trading post on the borders of what is now Maine; while Charles, his son, held a strong little fort called St. Louis, nearCape Sable. When Biencourt died he bequeathed his title and all his interests in Acadia to young Charles, because he had been his friend and companion from boyhood.
You have seen that soon after this a war broke out between France and England—the war in which Admiral Kirke captured the French fleet and summoned Quebec to surrender. On board one of the captured ships of the French fleet was the hope of Acadia, in the person of Claude de la Tour. He had gone home to France, and was now bringing out men and arms and provisions to make Port Royal strong enough to resist the new English pretensions to this fair region. While the valiant Champlain saw himself shut up starving in Quebec, Claude de la Tour was buffeting the waves on the way to England as Kirke's prisoner of war. De la Tour, being a Protestant of noble birth and of charming manners, was well received in London, and made much of. The very best people were anxious to make his acquaintance. He, on his side, found the English most agreeable, and ended by courting one of the Maids of Honour of Queen Henrietta Maria and marrying her. Sir William Alexander quickly saw how useful he would be, and soon had him created a baronet of Nova Scotia. After this La Tour took service in the English Royal Navy, and having obtained a grant of territory in Nova Scotia, undertook to found there an English settlement. Not only this, but he promised to bring his son into the English service. Sir William Alexander readily agreed to the plan of making La Tour's son,Charles, a baronet also, and this was accordingly brought about.
All this while young Charles de la Tour, rightful lord of Acadia under Poutraincourt's charter, knew nothing of his good fortune or of these proceedings on the part of his father. It remained for the elder De la Tour to break the glad news to his son. Two ships of war were put under his orders, and in these, with his pretty young English bride and many Scotch colonists, the old man set sail. His task turned out to be a far harder one than he had thought. When he got to his destination on the other side of the Atlantic he demanded an interview of his son, who was, surprising to relate, most ungrateful. What astonished him most was to find his father in command of an English ship, and wearing the dress of an English Admiral. Claude began by telling his son Charles of the flattering reception he had met with in London, and the honours that had been heaped upon him.
"I am an English Baronet," he exclaimed, embracing the youth, "and, what is more, so also are you. Rejoice, therefore, at the good fortune that has befallen us, and fly the proud blood-red cross of St. George from yonder staff."
But Charles, far from showing joy, seemed thunderstruck. Disengaging himself from his sire's embraces, he replied haughtily that "if those who sent you on this errand think me capable of betraying my country, even at the solicitation of a parent, they have greatly mistaken me. I am not disposed to purchase the honours now offered me by committing a crime. I do not undervalue the proffer of the King of England;but the Prince in whose service I am is quite able to reward me; and whether he do so or not, the inward consciousness of my fidelity to him will be in itself a recompense to me. The King of France has confided the defence of this place to me. I shall maintain it, if attacked, till my latest breath."
De la Tour refuses to yield his Allegiance. 1630De la Tour refuses to yield his Allegiance. 1630
After this, what could the disappointed father do but return crestfallen to his ship? After writing his son a letter urging him to obedience, Sir Claude bethought him of the effect of cannon and muskets as arguments. He would bring the ungrateful youth to reason by force. Thrice he landed his soldiers and sailors and tried to storm Fort St. Louis; but in vain. His men were repulsed, and soon became disgusted with the whole enterprise. Eventually they all repaired to Port Royal and took up settlement with the other Scotch colonists there. It might be supposed that in this extremity the young English girl to whom Sir Claude had promised power and luxury on his Nova Scotian estates would now desire to return to England, and he begged her to do so. But she refused.
"I have shared your prosperity, Sir Claude," she said gently, "I will now share your evil fortunes."
And evil, indeed, they turned out to be.
In 1632 came the shameful treaty of St. Germain-en-Laye, by which Canada and Nova Scotia were ceded back to France by King Charles, who was afraid that by his refusal he would not receive from King Louis the wedding dowry promised to his sister, Queen Henrietta Maria of England. This treaty made a great difference to the fortunes of the Frenchmenin the New World—to Champlain and the De la Tours. It deprived Sir Claude of his hopes, even of his refuge at Port Royal. Not daring or wishing to return either to France or England, he was obliged to throw himself on his son's protection. Charles gave him and his pretty stepmother a house hard by Fort St. Louis. He was rewarded. The story of Charles de la Tour's loyalty reached the ears of his monarch, who graciously made him a Lieutenant-Governor, and sent out men, stores, and ammunition of war to uphold his faithful subject in the lands and forts he had guarded so zealously.
We must now, for a little while, leave Charles de la Tour and his fortunes. We will return to them anon, but meanwhile it behoves us to see what was happening to Champlain and Quebec. You will remember that the great Cardinal Richelieu had placed himself at the head of the Company of the Hundred Associates. He had made Canada a royal province, with a nobility of its own and with Champlain as Viceroy. The war with England and the captures of Kirke brought this great scheme to a halt for some years, but the treaty of St. Germain-en-Laye was signed at last, and the Hundred Associates were ready to begin their operations. By the end of May 1633 Champlain was back again in his fort on Cape Diamond. This time he had with him two hundred persons and great equipments. In his Company also were a number of Jesuits, to take the place of the Recollets. With such zeal did they administer their charge that life at Quebec became pious and orderly, and many Indian conversions to Christianity weremade. A new fort was built at the old trading station of Three Rivers, at the mouth of St. Maurice River, as a protection against the Iroquois, but otherwise not very much happened worth describing here during the last two years of Champlain's life. The veteran was now but two years short of the allotted span, and could survey the fruits of his long labours in Canada with satisfaction. He had not, it was true, made Canada full of towns and cities and filled her countryside with prosperous farms and peasantry. But he had trod out a path through the forest and had sown the seed of future greatness. If only he had not also sown the seed of future hatred—if only he had made the Iroquois a friend instead of a foe! Nevertheless, when he fell sick on Christmas Day 1635 and his heroic spirit passed away for ever from the land he loved, Samuel de Champlain had well earned the name by which he is to-day called on the banks of the St. Lawrence, the "Father of Canada."
In his prime Champlain had a handsome countenance, a noble and soldierly bearing, and an iron constitution. In an age when fifty miles was considered a great journey, he travelled many thousands by sea and by land, crossing the ocean at least twenty times to defend or promote the colony's interests in Old France. His wife survived him nearly twenty years, and having founded a convent at Meaux, in France, became herself a nun, and as Sister Helen, beloved by the other nuns, she died.
After Champlain's lamented death a new Governor, Charles de Montmagny, a pious soldier and knight of Malta, was sent out to Canada. On his landingat the foot of Cape Diamond a striking scene took place. Amidst a crowd of black-robed Jesuits and soldiers in brilliant uniforms and the officials and people in their gayest apparel, Montmagny knelt down at the foot of a cross marking Champlain's grave and cried out, "Behold the first cross that I have seen in this country. Let us worship the crucified Saviour in his image." The procession straightway climbed the hill to the church, chanted the Te Deum, and prayed for King Louis. Montmagny was a devout believer in the Jesuits, who ruled with great severity. If a French colonist failed to attend church regularly, he was sent off to prison. They cared nothing for the good things of this world; their only desire was for the salvation of souls. It mattered nothing to them whether the Company of the Hundred Associates made money out of the buying and selling of furs or not. The great ambition of the Jesuits was to make Christians out of the Canadian savages, however remote, and as the Iroquois absolutely refused to be converted, and hated the Jesuits, the priests did not hesitate to join hands with the Hurons and Algonquins to destroy them. So there began to rage a terrible war. The Iroquois, who if not more numerous, were braver and fiercer than the Hurons, swore by the great Manitou never to bury the war-hatchet as long as a single Huron was left alive above the ground. Assault followed assault, the Iroquois braves coming close to the walls of Quebec and burning and torturing their prisoners under the very eyes of the horrified "black robes." On their part the priests, besides being pious, werevery brave men and cared nothing for danger. They would push fearlessly past the Iroquois concealed in ambush and carry the gospel amongst the most distant tribes. After a time their letters home describing their adventures made a great stir in France, and a number of wealthy and influential people came forward to help them in their great work. It was at this time that the famous colleges and convents and hospitals of Quebec were founded. The Marquis de Gamache founded a Jesuit college; another priest-nobleman, Noel de Sillery, built a home for Indian converts; the Duchess of Aiguillon, a niece of Cardinal Richelieu, provided the money for the Hotel Dieu, or God's Hospital. Then there was a wealthy young widow, Madame de la Peltrie, who, having no children of her own, decided to devote her life and fortune to establish a seminary for young girls in Canada. In the summer of 1639 she arrived in Quebec in company with Marie Guyard, a silk manufacturer's daughter who had taken vows as a nun and became "Mary of the Incarnation," the Mother Superior of the Ursuline Convent. All of these as soon as they had landed fell down and kissed the earth and evinced great enthusiasm over their future work. When they visited the first Indian settlement, we are told by one of the priests that Madame de la Peltrie and the rest embraced the little Indian girls, "without taking heed whether they were clean or not." Yet at home in Paris these fine ladies would probably not have cared to take the poor dirty little French children to their bosoms.
The Jesuits quickly spread themselves everywhere.No hardship, no danger, no cold was too great for them. Amongst the Huron Indians they soon found their greatest success. There numbered 30,000 Hurons before disaster befell them, considered the most intelligent and progressive of the Canadian Indians. Three fathers, led by the indomitable Jean de Brébeuf, went forth to establish missions amongst them. Brébeuf came of a noble family in Normandy, a tall strong man, who seemed born for a soldier. He could perform wonderful feats of strength and endurance. He penetrated the wilderness in spite of every obstacle, and established a mission at Thonatiria, on Georgian Bay. At first the Jesuits were opposed by the tribe, who foolishly regarded all their sacraments and services as the deeds of sorcerers. Whenever any evil happened to any of them, when the crops were frost-bitten, or even when a child fell ill, the Hurons put it all down to the incantations of the "Black Robes," as they called the missionaries. But gradually the Jesuits lived down all such prejudice. The Hurons saw they were strong, wise men, and at last placed themselves unreservedly in their hands. While the Jesuit fathers made their central station at St Mary on the Wye, a little river emptying into Matchedash Bay, they founded other missions, St. Louis, St. Jean, St. Michael, St. Joseph, in all the country round about. In course of a very few years the missionaries came almost to be the rulers of all the tribes there settled. But the Iroquois hate against the Hurons was fast fanning into flame. Having sworn vengeance upon them because of their alliancewith the French, sooner or later they would find them out, and then, alas, the most dreadful, thrilling scenes in the whole history of Canada would happen. While the Hurons and their ministering Jesuits were living in fancied security in their corner of the west, the French in Quebec and Three Rivers were in constant dread of the Iroquois. Day by day the redskins grew bolder. At first, terrified by the French cannon and muskets, they did not venture to approach too near the walls of the French forts. But by degrees that fear wore away, and the sentries, looking out from the bastions, would often see a dozen or two Iroquois braves lurking about the fort in the hopes of catching some straggler unawares and scalping him. One day indeed they were rewarded. Two Frenchmen named Godefroy and François Margerie were captured and dragged away to their lodges. The Iroquois chief, summoning all his forces, prepared a plan. He resolved to offer peace to the French at Three Rivers if they would give up their Indian allies, the Algonquins, against whom and the Hurons the Iroquois were engaged in a war of extermination. As Margerie spoke the Indian tongue, he was told that his life for the present would be spared, that he was to go under a flag of truce back to the fort at Three Rivers and offer these terms to his countrymen. If he did not return, his fellow-captive, Godefroy, would be tortured and slain. The heroic Margerie did not shrink from his task. He journeyed back to the fort and urged the Commandant to reject so dishonourable a proposal. Then, fully counting the cost of his action, he returned to theIroquois and to his companion Godefroy. Luckily for him, in the meantime, the Governor arrived from Quebec with soldiers to reinforce the garrison at Three Rivers. The Iroquois perceived that it would be hopeless now to storm the fort, and wisely decided to accept ransom for their prisoners. So the brave Margerie and his friend, who had boldly faced death, were now free.
Of all the great cities of the world you will not find one that has had so romantic a beginning as Montreal. The stories sent home by the Jesuits had stirred all France, and made the more pious and enterprising spirits more than ever resolved to teach the wicked redskins a lesson in Christianity and plant the fear of God in their hearts. The French said they did not believe in treating the savages of the New World in the cruel way the Spaniards had done in Peru and Mexico; they preferred to win them over to civilised ways by kindness and the force of good example.
One night a certain Jerome de la Dauversiére had a dream after he had returned from his office in the little town of La Flèche, in Anjou, where he was receiver of taxes. In this dream an angel came and told him that the surest way to win the red-men of Canada over to Christianity was to set up a great mission on the Island of Mount Royal. This island in the river St. Lawrence, you remember, Jacques Cartier had visited one hundred years before, and had been struck not only by its beauty but by the friendliness of the Indians who lived there. Their town theycalled Hochelaga. Since Cartier's time Hochelaga had mysteriously vanished (probably owing to one of the frequent redskin feuds), and the French Governor and people of Quebec had made as yet no settlement there. Dauversiére, who was a very holy and zealous man, went to Paris, and to Father Olier, a friendly priest, related his dream. It appeared that the worthy father also had had a vision, in which Mount Royal was pointed out as the future scene of pious labours. Whereupon the two set to work and formed a company of forty persons to build on this island, 3000 miles away, in the heart of New France, a French town, well fortified and able to resist the onslaughts of the infidel savages. The Company of the Hundred Associates agreed to sell them the land, for, of course, the Hundred Associates at this time controlled all the land of New France under a charter from King Louis. All that the promoters of the plan had finally to do was to find a proper person to take charge of the new settlement, which it was decided to call Ville Marie de Montreal, or, as we would call it, Marytown of Mount Royal, in honour of the Holy Virgin. They were fortunate to find just the one they sought in Paul de Chomedy, Sieur de Maisonneuve, a brave and pious soldier, who was forthwith appointed the first Governor of Ville Marie.
With Maisonneuve, when he sailed away from France in the spring of 1641, went Mademoiselle Jeanne Mance. This young woman had dedicated her whole life to nursing the sick and teaching little children, and was to take charge of a hospital in the new colony.
Slow sailing it was in those days, and when Maisonneuve's ship reached Quebec the sweltering heats of August oppressed the city. Governor de Montmagny bade the pioneers welcome, and, after listening to their scheme, told them flatly that he thought it was all a mistake. Instead of venturing their lives so far inland amongst the treacherous Iroquois, much better was it to choose a spot nearer Quebec for their town. But Maisonneuve and his companions, although prevailed upon to spend the winter in Quebec, were resolved to reach Mount Royal, even though, as Maisonneuve said, "every tree on the island were an Iroquois." And so in the spring all set off boldly up the Great River. When they saw the leader's resolution, Governor de Montmagny, Father Vimont, Superior of the Jesuits, and Madame de la Peltrie, head of the Ursuline Convent, consented to accompany them in their ship.
On the 17th May the memorable landing took place. All of the expedition—some fifty in number—fell upon their knees, and from their lips fell a prayer of thankfulness to Almighty God. But they did not deceive themselves as to their danger. They all knew—even the women—that there was to be more work and fighting than praying. As yet no treacherous red-man, tomahawk in hand, lurked behind the tall trees, but the alarm was sure to come, and no time was to be lost. So to the task of chopping and hewing and hammering they flew without delay. The site was quickly enclosed with palisades and several cannon brought from the shipand put in position. As for the hospital which Mademoiselle de Mance had been given the money to build, it could safely be reared outside the walls, being of stone and almost a little fortress of itself. For two centuries and a half this hospital withstood all the attacks of the Iroquois, until a mighty city pressing in upon it forced it to a peaceful surrender to the interests of trade and commerce.
Winter came and went. Spring found Ville Marie quite snug and comfortable, and the inhabitants wondering where the Iroquois were. They had not long to wait. A solitary Algonquin one day fled within the palisades for refuge. He told Maisonneuve that he was being pursued by the Iroquois, coveting his scalp. In a few hours his pursuers had discovered Ville Marie, and, shaking their tomahawks at its inhabitants, vowed vengeance on the bold pale-faces who had ventured to settle in a part of Canada which they had cruelly decreed should for ever remain a desert. Thereafter they patrolled the borders of the town, watching stealthily where they might strike down man, woman, or child. No longer was it possible in safety to sow or reap. Nor were the wooden palisades strong enough for protection. Stout walls and bastions were needed, and accordingly stone was quarried across the river, and willing hands toiled night and day to build what was henceforth little more than a prison. When the colony was two years old, the Iroquois summoned all their braves.
"Let us destroy these insolent Frenchmen,"said their chief; "let us carry off their white girls to drudge for us in our lodges."
Maisonneuve covering the Retreat of his Followers, 1644Maisonneuve covering the Retreat of his Followers, 1644
Maisonneuve, hearing that they had collected a large force, unwisely sallied out to give them battle. It was springtime, but the deep snow had not yet melted. The little company of French settlers, their hearts beating high with valour and courage, looked about for the foe. Not finding him at first, they were drawn farther and farther into the surrounding forest. Then it was that the redskins, hidden behind trees, darted forth a volley of arrows, and the founders of Ville Marie became an easy target and fell by the dozen. They were unused to this kind of warfare, the only kind the red-men really knew. Maisonneuve, shocked but undaunted, gave the signal for retreat, and the French drew back to the walls of Ville Marie, dragging their dead and wounded with them. Close followed the enemy with ear-splitting yells and flourishing their blood-stained tomahawks. Maisonneuve, pistol in hand, was the last man to enter the gate. Just as he was crossing the threshold an Iroquois chief sprang forward to drag him back, but quick as the savage was, not quick enough was he. The Governor's pistol rang out, and the chief dropped in his tracks. His baffled companions, shrieking in anger and dismay, saw the gates of the little town shut, and for that day the rest of its defenders were safe. To-day, if you should chance to visit the great city of Montreal, you may see the very spot where this encounter took place. It is called the Place d'Armes, and in the middle is a bronze statue of the braveMaisonneuve, on whose pedestal is a representation of his narrow escape from death.
Such terrible experiences were not confined to Montreal alone, or even to Quebec and Three Rivers. About the whole country the Iroquois prowled like wild beasts. Especially did they frequent the northern outlets of the Ottawa River to waylay the friendly Hurons in their passage to the St. Lawrence, bringing furs for barter to the French. Observing this, Governor Montmagny set about building a fort at the mouth of the Richelieu River, and notwithstanding the attempts of 700 Iroquois to destroy it and kill the workmen, it was completed in a short time and christened Fort Richelieu. Forced to retreat, the savages managed to carry off with them a Jesuit priest, Father Isaac Jogues, and two young students named Goupil and Couture, who were coming down the river with a party of fur-hunters. They did not kill their prisoners at once, as they expected, but, after putting them through a course of dreadful tortures, carried them to the home of one of their tribes, the Mohawks. After cutting off Goupil's thumb with a clam-shell, so as to prolong the pain, they scalped him and flung his body down a steep waterfall. Couture, adopted into the tribe, turned Mohawk in order to save his life.
After a time Father Jogues was taken by the Iroquois in one of their trading visits to the Dutch of New Netherlands, now called New York. This is the first time any of the French in Canada had any communication with the European settlers tothe south of them, in what are now known as the United States. The Dutch Governor of Albany took pity on the poor Jesuit priest and helped him to escape. Ultimately he was sent back in a ship to France, where he thrilled the King and Court by the sight of his wounds and the story of his wonderful adventures. Never once had he lost courage, but went on baptizing Indian children and giving the sacrament to the dying. Once when no water was forthcoming to baptize a Huron prisoner in the throes of death, Jogues shook off a few scant drops of dew which still clung to an ear of maize that had been thrown to him for food.
After all the intrepid father's starvation and sufferings you would think he had had enough of mission work amongst the red-men and would remain in a peaceful French curacy for the rest of his days. But that is because you do not understand what kind of men these Jesuit priests were. Undaunted by pains or privations, they wished nothing better than to be martyred in the cause of their religion. Isaac Jogues went back again to Canada a year later. In his absence the Mohawks had made peace with the French, and the intrepid priest took up his residence in one of their villages. When it became necessary to visit the Governor of Quebec on business, Jogues left behind him a small box containing a few medicine bottles and other simple things. No sooner was the priest's back turned than the medicine-man or sorcerer of the tribe, who hated the missionaries because they exposed their foolish practices, told the Mohawks that this innocent box contained magic, which wouldbring all of them ill-luck, disease, and death. Some believed this story, others were incredulous; so that when Father Jogues came back, he found the village divided on the question of killing him or sparing his life. He was invited to a feast, which he dared not refuse. As he entered, a tomahawk clove its way to his brain, and the priest was made a martyr at last. Poor brave Father Jogues was the first to suffer martyrdom in New France. The savages cut off his head and fastened it to a long pole, and the savage children threw pebbles at it in sport.
Alas, the fate of Jogues was destined to be that of the other priests who had established missions in the Huron country.
"Do not imagine," wrote the Father Superior, "that the rage of the Iroquois and the loss of many Christians and converts can bring to nought the mystery of the Cross. We shall die, we shall be captured, burned, and butchered. So be it. Those who die in their beds do not always die the best death. I see none of our company cast down. On the contrary, they ask leave to go up to the Hurons, and some of them protest that the fires of the Iroquois are one of their motives for the journey."
In the summer of 1648 the Hurons wished very much to pay a visit to the French in Eastern Canada. Many canoes had they full of furs which they could exchange for the kettles, hatchets, and knives of the traders. They resolved, therefore, to brave the Iroquois and make the long journey. Five distinguished chiefs accompanied 250 of their best warriors, and by the middle of July, Three Riverswas reached in safety. The Hurons ran their canoes ashore amongst the bulrushes, and began to spread on their war-paint and adorn themselves with feathers and wampum so as to make a distinguished appearance at the fort of the pale-faces. Suddenly an alarm was sounded. The Iroquois were on their track. Snatching their arms, the Hurons ran to meet the foe. This time the Iroquois were outnumbered and were defeated, and the Hurons eventually set out for home, flushed with victory and bearing a number of Iroquois scalps.
At home news of a terrible disaster awaited the victorious Hurons. Taking advantage of their absence, the Iroquois had attacked the Huron town of Teanaustaye, or St. Joseph, where the Jesuit, Father Daniel, was in charge. St. Joseph was one of the chief towns of the Huron nation; it had 2000 inhabitants, and was surrounded by a strong palisade. But on one fatal July day it was all but defenceless: scarce a warrior was to be seen. The arrival of the Iroquois flung the crowd of old men, women, and children into a panic. Daniel, in all his radiant priestly vestments, came to meet the foe at the church door, undismayed by their dreadful war-whoops. There he died. A dozen Iroquois bent their bows and pierced him as he stood, while the chief, armed with a gun he had bought from the Dutch, sent a bullet through the brave priest's heart. The town was set on fire. When the flames reached the church, Daniel's body was thrown into it, and both were consumed together. Nearly one thousand Hurons were killed or taken captive.
Eight months passed, and in the early spring-time the Iroquois came again. This time the Indian converts at St. Mary on the Wye saw heavy smoke curling above the forest three miles away, and cried out, "The Iroquois! the Iroquois! They are burning St. Louis!" And so it was. Had the Hurons acted with better judgment and more valour they might have averted their doom. But ever since the massacre and destruction of St. Joseph they seemed to have lost spirit. The two priests who were stationed here, Brébeuf and Lalement, did their best to arouse them, but they would not take measures to foil an Iroquois assault. Brébeuf and Lalement, implored to flee while there was yet time, both scorned such counsel. Uttering savage yells, the Iroquois swarmed towards the palisades, hacking at them with their hatchets, and they broke through at last, burning and slaying. The two brave priests were seized and stripped and beaten with clubs along the road to St. Ignace, which post the Iroquois had also captured. The fate of St. Mary itself was now trembling in the balance. Here were some 40 Frenchmen, well armed, and besides a large Huron population, 300 more Huron braves were outside the gates, hoping to waylay some of their victorious foes. A battle between the two tribes of red-men ensued, and although this time the Hurons fought with a will, they were obliged at last to give way. Hundreds had been killed or lay weltering in their blood. Only twenty were captured alive by the Iroquois. The enemy's chief was badly wounded, and they themselves had lost a hundred of their bestwarriors in this fierce battle. You may imagine how the French and Christian Indians shut up in St. Mary waited for the issue of the fight. When they knew that their outer guard was defeated, they gave themselves over to prayer, believing all was lost. They well knew how inflammable were their palisades of wood. When a hundred torches came to be applied only a miracle could save them. At this critical moment panic seized the Iroquois camp. A rumour had spread that a mighty army of Hurons were descending upon them, and they resolved, in spite of their chiefs, to retreat at once. But before fleeing from their imaginary foe, they took nearly all their prisoners and thrust them, bound hand and foot, into the bark dwellings of St. Ignace. They spared neither men nor women, young nor old, not even tiny babes. When they had done this they applied the torch to the town.
Of the two priests, the giant, Jean de Brébeuf, was led apart and fastened to a stake. From thence he called to the others, exhorting them to suffer patiently and God would reward them. They tortured him, but he still stood erect, tall and masterful, and addressed his people. For this the angry Iroquois cut away his lower lip and thrust a red-hot iron down his throat. Round the naked body of Father Lalement they tied strips of bark steeped in pitch and set him in a blaze. As if this were not enough agony, on the heads of both they poured boiling water and cut strips of flesh from Brébeuf's limbs.
"You told us," cried the fiends, laughing, "thatthe more one suffers on earth the happier he is in heaven. We wish to make you happy. We torment you in this way because we love you; and you ought to thank us for it!"
Still from Brébeuf came no sign of flinching. Baffled in devising further tortures, they cut off his head and tore his body in pieces. The heart of this great man, the founder of the ill-fated Huron mission, was seized by an Iroquois chief and devoured. His friend Lalement, after being tortured all night, was killed by a blow from a hatchet.
Two or three days afterwards, when the fleeing Iroquois were leagues away, the Jesuits at St. Mary came to the smoking ruins of St. Ignace. The scorched and mangled remains of the two martyrs met their horrified gaze. These they carried back to St. Mary and buried, all but Brébeuf's skull, which they preserved as a holy relic. At the Hotel Dieu at Quebec it is shown to the visitor, enclosed in a silver bust of the martyr, which his family sent to the good nuns from France.
Upon the Hurons such a disaster as this told with crushing force. Flight from their country was all they could think of now. Two weeks later they abandoned for ever fifteen towns to roam northward and eastward in the barren, inhospitable wilderness. In various places the fugitives found refuge, some with this tribe, some with that, but as a strong, separate nation they soon ceased to be, and the fort and mission of St. Mary on the Wye was left solitary in the middle of a great waste.
All the love and labour of the Jesuit missionariesfor ten years had been in vain. With aching hearts the priests resolved to break up the mission and betake themselves to some less dangerous and more useful station. Several of them followed the wandering Hurons, but a number of priests, with forty soldiers and labourers, established themselves on St. Joseph Island, at the entrance of Matchedash Bay. It is one of three—now known as Faith, Hope, and Charity—islands. Here they toiled, together with a number of Huron converts, in building a stronghold which would defy the dreaded Iroquois. Six or eight thousand souls came to people the island. There not being food for so many, what with hunger and disease, by springtime half had perished. The despairing survivors, resolving to brave the surrounding Iroquois, who roamed on the mainland, and escape, one by one fell into the hands of their lynx-like foes. No refuge was there for the poor persecuted race but in the shadow of the French guns at Quebec.
"Take us to Quebec," cried one of the Huron chiefs to the Jesuit fathers. "Do not wait until war and famine have destroyed us to the last man. We are in your hands. Death has taken more than ten thousand of us. If you wait longer, not one will remain alive."
At last the Jesuits resolved to grant their petition. On the 10th of June 1650 the whole population of St. Joseph (or Charity) Island embarked in canoes, which were packed with all their earthly goods, and paddled sadly towards the east. On the Ottawa River, which was now desolate of native hut or wigwam, they met a large party ofFrench soldiers and Hurons on the way to help the Huron mission.
Too late! The mission, with all its forts and settlements, had been abandoned for ever. The entire party kept on to Montreal, where the Hurons could not be induced to stay because it was too open to Iroquois attacks; and about the end of July the great heights of Quebec came in sight. All disembarked and were hospitably received by the Governor, the priests, the nuns, and the people. Yet the new arrivals could not have come at a worse time, for food was scarce and nearly all were poor.
When the poor harassed "Black Robes" and their panic-stricken Indian charges finally rested under the sheltering walls of Quebec, Montmagny was no longer Governor. He had, after twelve years' service, gone back to France, and a new Governor had arrived in his stead. But the Indians still called the new Governor, and all the Governors who came afterwards, by the name of "Onontio." They were told that Montmagny in French signified "Great Mountain," Onontio in the Huron tongue, and supposed it was a title bestowed by the pale-faces on all their rulers in Canada.
Despite the unspeakable horrors, bloodshed, and martyrdom related in the last chapter, nothing of lasting value was accomplished by the hapless mission to the Hurons except a knowledge of the great Lake Superior, which an interpreter, named Jean Nicollet, had discovered a few years before.
Season now followed season, and each saw the French but little better than prisoners in their three towns on the St. Lawrence. If they ventured very far out of these fortified posts, it was only to give the Iroquois a chance to spring upon them and bearback their scalps in triumph to their lodges in the wilderness. The French might have made a treaty of alliance with their English neighbours in New England, who had now set up a number of towns and were flourishing, although they too were at the mercy of the surrounding savages. But the French Governor made it a condition of the treaty that the New Englanders should help Canada to exterminate the terrible Iroquois. This the English colonists were loath to do; they had no wish to bring the Iroquois tomahawks down upon their heads also, as the French had done; and so the plan fell through. After a time one of the Iroquois tribes, having lost a great many of their fighting men in the long war, began to think of making recruits. The idea occurred to them that the unfortunate Hurons and Algonquins, who had joined their fortunes to the French, would be the very men for their purpose, if they could only induce them to desert the alliance. Forthwith they sent courtiers to announce to the Hurons that they no longer bore them any grudge and were willing to adopt them—to receive them into the bosom of their lodges. But it soon appeared that all the Iroquois were not unanimous in their approval of this plan, and as their treachery was well known, the Hurons and Algonquins, now settled on the Isle of Orleans near Quebec, naturally hesitated about accepting the offer. The few foolish ones who trusted in Iroquois good faith were actually tomahawked by their so-called friends on the way to the Iroquois lodges. In attempting to punish a band of Iroquois ambushed near his fort, Du Plessis Bochat, the Governor ofThree Rivers, lost his life; Father Buteaux was killed on his way to his mission, and another priest, Father Poucet, was borne away to a Mohawk village, and after being tortured was sent back to Quebec to offer peace to the French. Peace was indeed welcome, but the French were naturally still suspicious. The truth was that the Iroquois were then too busily engaged in destroying the Eries, a tribe which had burned one of their most illustrious chiefs, to spare time to massacre the pale-faces. As the chief, a Seneca, had stood with unquivering nerve at the stake he had cried out, "Eries, you burn in me an entire nation!" for he knew the Senecas would avenge his death. Much, then, as the Governor, De Lauzon, wanted peace, neither he nor his Indian allies knew how far they could trust the Iroquois. It was at last decided that if the Onondagas, one of the five Iroquois nations, would receive a Jesuit mission, a body of Hurons should be sent under escort to be adopted into their tribe. From the Onondagas there came a message to say they would agree to this, and in June 1656 the expedition set out from Quebec. It consisted of a large body of Hurons, as well as Onondagas, fifty French soldiers, led by the brave captain, Dupuy, and two priests, Dablon and Chaumonot. Scarcely was the party well under way, when a band of Mohawks fell upon them, and before they pretended to discover that they were attacking members of their own confederacy, they had killed and wounded a number of Onondagas. Profuse excuses and apologies followed, the Mohawks explaining that they took them, the Onondagas, for Hurons.The expedition was suffered to proceed. The truth is, the Mohawks were jealous of the Onondagas in obtaining an alliance with the French and Hurons. To show their power and their contempt of the pale-faces, they continued their journey eastward to the Isle of Orleans, and under the very guns of the fort of Quebec surprised the defenceless Hurons who dwelt there, and fiercely murdered or captured all they came upon, even the women and children. In broad daylight they paddled their fleet of bark canoes in front of Quebec, laughing and yelling defiance to the French, and making their unhappy captives join in dancing and songs of triumph. The Governor this time was a weak man, and all he could do was to wring his hands and regret bitterly that he had ever sent any mission to the Onondagas. He began to fear for their safety.
Not wholly unfounded were the Governor's alarms. At first all went smoothly enough with the little band of Frenchmen in the heart of the Onondaga country. This particular tribe of the Iroquois appeared delighted at the coming of the French. But quickly signs of danger began to multiply. The pale-face soldiers grew aware that a plot was on foot to murder them in the little fort they had built, close to where the present prosperous city of Syracuse now stands. Dupuy, being an able and courageous man, resolved by some means or another to foil the savages and escape back to Canada. This is the stratagem he hit upon; it was the custom of these Indians to hold mystic feasts, at which it was a point of honour to eat everything that was set before themby their hosts. If a man failed to eat the whole of a dish—even to the fifth helping—it was taken by the host as a personal insult. Dupuy planned such a feast, and arranged to stuff them so plentifully that not a single brave would be capable of rising from the banquet. The plan worked perfectly, the Indians not observing that the French concealed most of their food instead of eating it, so that by midnight the gorged and drunken Onondagas were sunk in a gluttonous sleep. Dupuy had taken good care beforehand to build secretly within his fort a number of large, light, flat-bottomed skiffs, and now when dawn came the Frenchmen stole away, carrying these with them to the Oswego River, reaching Quebec at last, in spite of ice and rapids, with the loss of only three men, who were drowned. The Indians pursued, but their birch-bark canoes were useless on the icy stream, and they had to give up the chase.
The escape from the Onondagas was a very clever and daring deed, and shows the material the colonists of New France were made of in those days. A deed still more daring and important was to follow. The Iroquois threw off the mask and determined to deal the French in Canada a deadly blow. A mighty force of the Five Nations was organised, to meet at the junction of the Ottawa and St. Lawrence rivers, and swoop down first upon Montreal and then upon the other settlements. It so happened that there lived in Ville Marie at this time a young nobleman, Daulac des Ormeaux, who chose to be known to the other colonists as Adam Dollard. Having left France in order to escape the consequences ofsome rash act, he burned for some chance to retrieve the honour of his name. The valiant youth now saw with joy the long-looked-for opportunity arrive at his door, and he obeyed the summons. From the Governor did Dollard obtain leave to lead a party of volunteers against the savage foe. Gathering sixteen gallant fellows about him, all swore a solemn oath to give or take no quarter, but by sheer force of their arms break the force of the blow which was about to descend on their beloved town. A mad enterprise truly did it seem, but for sheer valour nothing finer has been known since fearless Leonidas and his handful of Greeks held the pass at Thermopylae. The seventeen heroes, together kneeling, took the Sacrament at the hands of the pale priest, and set forth for the Long Sault (or Rapids) of the Ottawa. There in the dense woods they found a disused old Indian stockade by which the invading host had to pass. Entrenching themselves as well as they could, they waited. A few friendly Hurons and Algonquins joined them, wondering at the hardihood of the pale-face warriors, and shamed into lending them a helping hand. The storm broke. A horde of 700 screaming savages, picked men of the Iroquois, flung themselves upon them. Easy work it seemed to crush out this feeble band. To their astonishment, Dollard and his men beat them back. Again and again they came on, and again and again were they repulsed. By this time, appalled at the fearful odds against them, the friendly Indians had fled from the side of the besieged, all but one Huron chief, Annahotaha, and four Algonquins. These stood firm.Every loophole in the stockade darted its tongue of fire; so faultless was the aim that nearly every time a musket rang out an Iroquois fell dead. Fortunately Dollard had brought plenty of ammunition. Some musketoons of large calibre, from whose throats scraps of lead and iron belched forth, slew and wounded several of the enemy at a single discharge. Thus three days wore away and still the terrible struggle came to no end. In the intervals, by day and night, Dollard and his men offered up prayers to Heaven on their knees in the melting snow. Their food was now gone, and, worse still, they had no water. No hope now remained save to keep the Iroquois a few hours longer at bay; they were certain only of a martyr's reward. On the part of the besiegers so many men had they lost that they sickened of the fight, and some amongst them even counselled going home. But other chiefs shrank from such a disgrace.
"Shall we," they cried, "confess ourselves beaten by so paltry an enemy? Our squaws would laugh in our faces! Let us now rather band ourselves together and storm the fort of the white men, at whatever cost."
A general assault was made. So high by this time was piled the bodies of the Iroquois, that their fellows could now leap over the stockade. Dollard fell, and one after another of the exhausted defenders was slain, although each fought like a madman, a sword or hatchet in one hand and a knife in the other. Amongst the heap of corpses one Frenchman still breathed, and he was dragged out andtortured. This was the end; thus perished Dollard and his valiant sixteen, whose names are imperishably written in the annals of Montreal. Nor did they offer their lives to the Iroquois hatchets in vain. The Iroquois had been taught a lesson, and to their lodges the tribe slunk back like whipped curs. "If," said they, "seventeen Frenchmen, four Algonquins, and one Huron can, behind a picket fence, hold seven hundred of our best warriors at bay, what defence would their hundreds do behind yonder ramparts of stone?" And so the colony of New France was saved.
The cowardly native allies of the French in this fight were not to escape the penalty of their treacherous desertion. The Iroquois turned upon them, burning some on the spot, and making captives of others. Five only succeeded in escaping to carry the tale of the defence, the butchery, and the martyrdom to Ville Marie.
It seemed, however, as if Canada had only been saved in order to perish from other causes. The colony was impoverished and torn, besides, with civil and religious dissensions. The Society of Notre Dame of Montreal, those rich and influential persons in France who had founded the city, now wearied of their enterprise. It was turned over to the great Seminary of St. Sulpicius, and a number of Sulpician fathers were sent out to take charge and to found a seminary in Montreal. Amongst these was the Abbe de Queylus, who hoped the King would eventually make him a bishop. But the Jesuits were too powerful not to prevent any priest but aJesuit from receiving such an appointment, and at last succeeded in getting François de Laval, Bishop of Petræa, appointed to control the Church in Canada. A striking figure was Laval, playing a great part in the early history of Canada; but in spite of his virtue, he was narrow-minded and domineering, perpetually quarrelling with the various Governors of the colony during the next thirty-five years.
So desperate did the people of New France become at the dangers which surrounded them, at the quarrels between the Bishop and the Governor, at the excesses of the fur-traders, who insisted on intoxicating the Indians and themselves with brandy, that it hardly needed the terrible earthquake which took place in 1663 to make them lose heart altogether. The total population then was some two thousand souls, and the Company of the Hundred Associates had been found powerless to settle, develop, and defend the country properly. Thinking only of the profits of the fur trade, it had shamefully neglected its promises, and when any of its officials made money in Canada, they at once went home to spend it. All this was pointed out by the Marquis d'Avaugour when the Governorship at last fell from his hands; and remembering that others, including Laval, had made the same charge, Colbert, the new Minister of young King Louis the Fourteenth, decided to plead the cause of Canada to his master. It was on his advice that King Louis resolved to take the government directly into his own hands. By royal edict was revoked the charter of the Hundred Associates, and three men appointed as aSovereign Council in Canada to carry out royal authority. These three officials were the Governor, the Bishop, and the Intendant, the latter having charge of the commerce and finances of the colony. To the post of Governor the Sieur de Courcelle was appointed, and Jean Baptiste Talon became Intendant. The office of Bishop, of course, continued to be filled by Laval.
Dollard strikes his Last Blow, 1658Dollard strikes his Last Blow, 1658
And now the drooping fortunes of New France began to revive. Soldiers and settlers began to pour into the country. Besides De Courcelle, the King sent also his Viceroy for the whole of his Trans-atlantic domains, the veteran Marquis de Tracy, to report to him personally upon the state of Canada. When De Tracy set sail a throng of eager young nobles accompanied him. Their imagination had been stirred by the tales they had heard of the country by the St. Lawrence River. They thirsted for adventure and renown. There came also the famous disbanded regiment, called the Carignan-Callières, after the names of its commanders, the first regiment of regular troops ever sent to Canada by the King. It had lately been serving in the wars of France against the Turks, and had provoked the admiration of the Turkish Sultan.
On the last day of June 1665 a brilliant scene was witnessed in Quebec. On that glowing summer's day the gallant Marquis and the troops landed at the flowery base of towering Cape Diamond. What a different scene was now presented from that which had taken place but a few seasons before, when the impudent Iroquois had shaken their hatchets fromtheir canoes at the trembling and helpless Governor! The population had doubled as if by magic; thousands were on the ramparts shouting a welcome to the broad white standard blazoned with the arms of France, which floated proudly from fleet and fortress. The river-banks echoed with the hoarse note of cannon. The bells of the church and seminaries pealed in a frenzy of joy. Tracy, a giant six feet and a half high, and his officers stepped ashore, all gorgeously attired in crimson and white and gold. In the vanguard of the procession which climbed that day the heights of Quebec were twenty-four guards in the King's livery, followed by four pages and six valets. On arrival at the square, Laval, in his resplendent pontificals, received them, and noted with pleasure that the old marquis, although suffering from fever caught in the tropics, knelt on the bare pavement. A new order of things everywhere was begun. With the 2000 settlers came young women for wives, as well as horses, oxen, and sheep in abundance. It became Tracy's duty to look to the colony's protection in order that it might increase and multiply, and the only way to accomplish this was by curbing the power of the Iroquois. No time was lost in taking measures to this end. The forts at Quebec, Three Rivers, and Montreal were strengthened, three new forts, St. Theresa, Sorel, and Chambly, were built on the Richelieu River. Reports of the arrival of the troops, and of all their preparations, naturally spread far and wide amongst the Indians, and very soon four of the Five Nations thought it prudent to sue for peace. The fierceMohawks alone remained defiant; they were not to be cowed by all this martial pomp, and at last Courcelle, the Governor, with Tracy, the Viceroy's, permission, resolved to chastise them as soundly as they deserved. He would take them when they least expected it: surprise them in their lodges in the depths of winter, when his soldiers could travel over the frozen rivers as though on a paved highway. Many who had had experience of winter journeyings in Canada sought to dissuade him from the attempt, but the new Governor was anxious to distinguish himself, and win the approval of the Viceroy and his King. Early in January he and his 500 men began to march. Before they had reached Three Rivers many had their ears, noses, and fingers frozen, while some of the newly-arrived troops were so disabled by the cold, that they had to be left behind. But the old Indian fighters and native Canadians, of whom there were nearly a hundred, pressed forward bravely in the van, in spite of the heavy loads which all were obliged to carry. For six weeks they travelled to reach the Iroquois lodges, but they lost their way, and came at last to the Dutch settlement of Schenectady. Here they learnt that the Mohawks had gone far afield on a war-like expedition, and that the country they were now in belonged to the Duke of York, afterwards James II. New Netherlands having thus passed into English hands, Courcelle and his troops were asked to quit the territory at once. There was nothing, therefore, to do but to steal away to Canada, whence they had come. It was not an easy feat, for a body of Mohawks hung attheir heels tomahawking stragglers. The cold was intense, and, to make matters worse, the provisions gave out. Sixty men perished on the march. Nevertheless, unlucky as Courcelle had been, his expedition had served to convince the Mohawks that they and their families were no longer safe in their lodges. There was no telling what these Frenchmen would do next, so they sent a deputation to offer peace. The Viceroy, in his turn, sent a priest as his ambassador to visit their deputation, but he had scarcely left when tidings came that a party of seven French officers out hunting near Lake Champlain had been set upon and killed by the Mohawks. A cousin of Tracy's had been captured, and a nephew had been slain.
"Now, by the Virgin!" cried the sick old soldier, bringing down his giant palm on the table, "they have gone far enough. Recall the holy father. We must teach these savages a lesson." But the cup of his anger was not yet full. A couple of boastful Mohawk deputies arrived in Quebec and came to his house. When the indignant Tracy happened to mention the murder of his nephew, one of them actually had the effrontery to laugh and exclaim, as he stretched out his arm, "Yes, this is the hand that split the head of that young man!"
The Viceroy, veteran soldier as he was, and used to deeds of violence, shuddered with horror.
"Very well," he said, "never shall it slay any one else. Take that base wretch out," he added to one of the guard, "and hang him in the presence of his fellows!"
It was September. Tracy himself and Courcelle, commanding 1300 men, put the heights of Quebec behind them. Traversing mountains, swamps, rivers, lakes, and forests, they held steadily on their way to the country of the Mohawks. When the gout seized the commander they bore him on a litter, a mighty load. All day long were the drums beating and the trumpets blowing; when provisions had grown low, luckily they came upon a huge grove yielding chestnuts, on which they largely fed. The Mohawks heard of this martial procession and were terrified. They had no wish now to face the French, whose numbers rumour magnified, and whose drums they took for devils. At the last moment they retreated from their towns, one after another. Tracy pursued them, capturing each place as he arrived at it. At the fourth town he thought he had captured them all, but a squaw told him there was still another, and stronger than any they had yet seen. To this town he sent an officer, who prepared for an assault, but, to the surprise of the French, they found within only an old man, a couple of aged squaws, and a little child. These told the French that the Mohawks had just evacuated, crying, "Let us save ourselves, brothers! The whole world is coming against us!" All loaded with corn and provisions as it was, to the town the French that night applied the torch. A mighty bonfire lit up the forest. In despair at losing all their possessions, the two squaws flung themselves headlong into the flames. All the other places were destroyed, and then, chanting the Te Deum and reciting mass, the victors set out onthe return march. They had burned the food of the Mohawks, who they knew must now feel the dread pangs of hunger. Terrible was the blow, and the Mohawks suffered much that winter. Their pride was humbled. By these means was a treaty of peace between the French and all the Iroquois declared, and for twenty years Canada enjoyed the sweets of peace.
Old Marquis de Tracy had done his work well, and could now go back to France with his resplendent bodyguard, his four pages, and his six valets, and leave Courcelle and Talon to rule Canada alone.
After this, when they went amongst the Iroquois, cross and breviary in hand, Jesuit missionaries met with no danger or refusal. They made many converts. Not content with their labours amongst the tribes close at hand, they pierced the distant forests north of Lake Superior, established permanent missions at Michilimackinac and Sault Ste. Marie, which joins the Lakes Huron and Michigan. On the banks of the St. Lawrence a new era began. For when the Carignan-Callières regiment was disbanded, the soldiers turned their swords into ploughshares, and the wise and prudent Intendant, Talon, had the satisfaction of seeing farms arise in the wilderness and yield abundant harvests. Talon's hand was seen everywhere; he spared no pains to make Canada prosperous and self-supporting. He set about establishing the fisheries in the St. Lawrence river and gulf, and encouraged the seal-hunts, by which much oil was obtained and exported to France. He ordered the people to grow hemp, and taught the women to spin wool. He also devoted much attention to thetimber trade, and to him is owing the first tannery seen in Canada. By the year 1688 as many as 1100 vessels had in a single season anchored in the Quebec roadstead, laden with every kind of merchandise. According to a letter written by one of the chief nuns, "M. Talon studied with the affection of a father how to succour the poor and cause the colony to grow; entered into the minutest particulars; visited the houses of the inhabitants and caused them to visit him; learned what crop each was raising; taught those who had wheat to sell it at a profit; helped those who had none, and encouraged everybody."