Читать книгу Samuel de Champlain - Francine Legaré - Страница 14

3 Ethnographer and Cartographer in the Land of the Great Sagamo

They have a form of marriage: when a girl reaches the age of fourteen or fifteen, she has several suitors and friends, and keeps company with whom she pleases. After about five or six years, she takes the one she fancies for her husband, and they will live together until the end of their lives, unless, after having been together for a time, they still have no children. Then the man can be released from the marriage and take another wife, saying that his was worthless.

After Mexico, Champlain lingered for four months in Cuba, before returning to France. His trip had lasted two years in all. Meanwhile, the proud Captain Provençal, to whom Samuel was so attached, had suddenly become a sick, old man, now bedridden, with only a few days left to live. Saddened, Champlain, more of a son than a nephew, kept vigil at his bedside.

Pierre de Chauvin de Thonnetuit, to whom Henri IV granted the fur trade monopoly, settled in Tadoussac in 1604. Illustration by Samuel de Champlain published in The Voyages of the Sieur de Champlain of Saintonge, Captain in Ordinary for the King in the Navy.

“I scarcely have any time left to hear of your latest exploits,” the uncle murmured.

“I'm sure you'd not be astounded. You who have seen so much…”

All of a sudden, the thirty-year-old sailor saw himself again, a small, unhappy boy in the port of Brouage. Holding back his tears, he watched as a huge ship departed for a season or several years, carrying away the man who was like a father to him. The ship moved slowly, then seemed engulfed in a blustery wind. Would his uncle come back as promised? When?

Today another form of separation awaited.

“You will see marvellous countries, Samuel…”

The captain coughed, visibly weakened, but tried to go on:

“… and I will be at your side, even if no one can detect my presence.”

“You will be in my thoughts, Uncle, at the helm of every ship I ever sail.”

“You speak the truth, and, now that my time has come, it consoles me a little.”

Guillaume Hallène was in fact an important landowner: he left everything he had to Champlain, notably an enormous farm operation near La Rochelle. The domain included vineyards, orchards, fields, and a few houses with their outbuildings. Along with the income from the property came other sums bequeathed to him in the will.

As the uncle had foreseen, the money would give Champlain independence, allowing him to carry out his voyages. And true enough, in Samuel Captain Provençal could thus live on, continuing to roam the planet.

“Others come before you have mistaken pebbles from America for rough diamonds, Monsieur de Champlain.”

The man was alluding ironically to French navigator Jacques Cartier, who, seventy years earlier, had brought back samples of iron and quartz crystal from Canada thinking they were precious stones. His find turned out to be nothing at all, and still was the butt of derision. Today Maximilien de Béthune, the Duke of Sully, was recalling the mishap. He held the strategic position of Superintendent of Finance for King Henri IV. For this rigid minister, colonial development was merely a harebrained craze. He felt such excesses were much more liable to ruin France than to replenish the royal treasury.

The Duke considered nothing to be more profitable than cultivating the land of France. French wheat may not have dazzled as much as diamonds or silver from the colonies, but it had the advantage of making better bread! Champlain, who had requested an audience with the King to tell him that the new lands offered unprecedented potential, wondered how to win over such a closed mind.

Luckily for him, Henri IV did not share the Duke's apprehensions. Besides, he could clearly see that the Spaniards were winning across the board, extending their powers overseas. France was not doing enough on that score.

“Monsieur de Sully, put aside for a moment your overcautious ploughman's instincts,” he said, gently mocking his counsellor. “Instead let us listen to this man back from countries we've seen only in our dreams.”

“Time will tell, if we recover the expenses incurred by these ambitions, Your Majesty” his representative responded stiffly.

“Your wisdom, Monsieur le Duc, must not interfere with the glory of France and its King.”

Turning toward the navigator, Henri indicated his keen interest in his impressions of his recent trip to the West Indies and Mexico.

“I won't rest until I convince you that their storehouses are the most fully stocked in the world,” the traveller declared. “But we must remember that they are in the hands of another country. France has to play a role in this great quest.”

“Where are you contemplating going?”

“To the North Atlantic,” replied Champlain, unhesitating. “Cartier may not have brought back diamonds, but along with other valiant men like himself, he began to open up a passage that we must use: a route leading to Asia, but also toward discovery of areas in the North, beyond the waters where the cod fishermen work. No one has yet come forth to claim them.”

“Claim what, exactly?” Sully asked acrimoniously.

“Whatever is to be found there,” the King enunciated slowly, his patience beginning to fray.

He for one was thinking about the peace treaty signed recently with Spain that granted him proprietary rights in the North Atlantic.

“To begin with, and despite the aversion of my counsellor here,” insisted Henri, “I would like a detailed description of the New Indies and Mexico from where you return so in awe.”

Champlain left the Louvre satisfied. He methodically compiled his notes and illustrations, carefully writing them up and managing to convey both the opulent resources and his sense of wonder at all he'd seen. The document reached the palace shortly after with the title and subtitle Brief Narrative of the Most Remarkable Things that Samuel Champlain of Brouage observed in the West Indies during the voyage which he made to them, in the Years 1599–1601. The report was also glanced at by Aymar de Chaste, governor of Dieppe, who concurrently held a variety of functions and titles at court. In addition, he was highly influential in the commercial areas of fur trade and the merchant navy. This man was won over by the idea of a French establishment in America.

The Brief Narrative quickly had the wished-for effect in the inner circle of decision-makers. Thanks to de Chaste, Champlain was invited to take part as an observer in the next fur-trade expedition headed for the St. Lawrence River. The ship he boarded in Honfleur in March 1603 was called the Bonne Renommée, or “Good Reputation.” For anyone familiar with the ups and downs of marine life, this name had something comforting about it.

Captain François Pont-Gravé, of St. Malo, was the sole master after God aboard the Bonne Renommée. The pleasant-sounding and abundant laughter of the congenial fifty-year-old could be heard often on the trip. He had a fearful temper that would flare up occasionally. He sang loud and clear, called to far-off fishing boats, enjoyed watching the whales play, and joked over nothing. He filled the space aboard his ship with his expansive personality, both kindly and authoritarian. A pleasing combination, Champlain thought. In fact, the two men spontaneously took to each other, recognizing that they were both drawn to the exotic call of the sea and discovery. This emerging friendship would last thirty years and follow the two men throughout their many journeys. Their bond would withstand hardship, colonization, war, fear, discouragement, and sickness. No small feat!

The Bonne Renommée headed straight for Tadoussac, after hugging the Newfoundland coast and leaving Anticosti Island portside as it entered the St. Lawrence River, “the great river of Canada,” as Champlain called it. Pont-Gravé was familiar with this landscape, having already made several fur-trading trips. For Champlain, it was all new, and his journal entries increased in volume.

In the Montagnais language, Tadoussac means “breasts” and evokes the surrounding mountains. Saguenay, meaning “water flowing out,” is the name of the river running alongside it to the west, whose cold foaming waters rushed into the salt river. Tadoussac was a windswept, arid site of sand and rock. Three years earlier, Pierre de Chauvin de Thonnetuit had established a small trading post there, the only one in Canada. The first person to have a monopoly on the fur trade in New France, he had promised to rapidly transport five hundred settlers to begin populating the area. He died shortly thereafter, leaving behind only a few fur traders, or coureurs de bois. But after his brief stay, there remained a small house surrounded by a picket fence, and here the bartering took place. The native people received glass or ceramic beads, tools, knives, axes, copper kettles, and blankets in exchange for magnificent animal furs, including fox, sable, beaver, wolf, and otter.

The Bonne Renommée berthed in Tadoussac on May 26, 1603, a memorable date: that day, Champlain trod upon the earth of New France for the first time. Aboard were two young Montagnais brought over to France the previous year on merchant ships, basically so they could be taught French and serve as interpreters. Champlain and Pont-Gravé began by taking them back to their family. At the cabin of the great Sagamo (chief) Anadabijou, a huge feast was underway, with a hundred people present.

It was Samuel de Champlain's initial meeting with Canada's First Peoples. These were the same people the previous explorers had erroneously called “Indians,” simply because they thought they had arrived in India via the western route! Upon meeting them, Champlain immediately showed an ethnologist's concern, and tried to understand their way of life, radically different from that of so-called civilized societies! In his journal, he described them as people “well proportioned in body” and smeared with paint that made their skin olive-coloured. Half-clad in animal skins, in cold weather, they kept warm beneath huge skins of moose, seal, or deer. They had their own beliefs, notably their version of the beginning of the world.

“See how they imagine Creation,” Champlain later explained to Pont-Gravé. “To their mind, after God created all things on earth, he took arrows and drove them into the ground. Later women and men came out. Afterwards, they multiplied.”

“I'd like very much to drive in one of those arrows if it gave birth to a pretty girl!” Pont-Gravé replied, pretending to shoot an imaginary arrow into the distance.

At the gathering in Tadoussac the noisy festivities suddenly gave way to silence as the Montagnais returning from Europe delivered their homecoming speeches. They spoke of France's kindness to them, the King's intention to populate the land, and his collaboration in defeating the eternal enemies, the Iroquois. Excellent news!

Once they'd warmed up, the young interpreters also described the living conditions, cities, houses, castles… That country was full of so many incredible things! How could they convey the idea of a horse-drawn carriage to an audience who travelled on foot or by canoe and had never seen a horse? One of the boys thought for a moment, hesitated, and ended up blurting out that people over there travelled in a sort of cabin pulled by moose.

All this met with a great deal of noisy sympathy.

“No nation in the world seems to us better than yours!” cried the Sagamo to the two sailors.

Moose and bear meat was put on to cook. Tobacco, called petun, went around. After the meal, there was dancing.

Other families arrived the next day. No less than a thousand men, women, and children gathered. People began to sing and the dancing began again. As dictated by ritual, the women undressed completely, wearing only a few necklaces. Spectators from the old world were in for a shock. Among the dancers, many proudly displayed the heads of Iroquois cut off during a confrontation two days earlier.

Then, more solemnly, partnerships were concluded between France and the nations present: Algonquin, Montagnais, and Maliseet. The King's men were given official permission to establish a colony. In return, they would combat the Iroquois.

“Did you hear the Gougou last night, Champlain?” exclaimed Pont-Gravé, smiling at his companion.

“What are we to make of all that?” replied Samuel, pensive.

“Come now!” the captain cried. “You're not going to really believe that fools' twaddle?”

Fools? Who was to say? Perhaps that irrepressible nature had in fact given rise to Gougou, the terrible monster the “Savages” had described to him. This horrifying creature took on the appearance of a woman so enormous she stood higher than a ship's masts. She emitted terrifying hissing noises and ate humans – first placing them in a huge pouch. In general, all believed in Gougou and feared her.

In Paris, they spoke of it as superstition for simple-minded people. But then, surrounded by so much strangeness, Champlain was no longer so sure that the Gougou was an invention.

The Montagnais described to the French a saltwater sea to the north which, six years later, proved to be the bay to which English navigator Henry Hudson would give his name. Especially interested in this body of water that he thought was a third ocean surrounding Canada, Champlain hoped to reach there by travelling up the Saguenay River in a canoe with a few Montagnais, whom he bombarded with questions. After about sixty kilometres, Champlain and Pont-Gravé decided to turn back. They could continue farther another time.

During the next few days, they navigated along the St. Lawrence in a small boat with a sail that had been transported on the deck of the Bonne Renomméle. They reached the Lachine rapids after passing Île aux Lièvres, Île aux Coudres, Île d'Orléans, and Montmorency Falls as well as the future sites of Quebec City, Trois-Rivières, and Montreal.

Throughout the voyage, the navigator was on the lookout and observed the appearance of the coasts, forests, and meadows. The cartographer prepared relief maps. Certain areas were deemed “unpleasant” lands because nothing, it seemed, would ever grow, besides rocks and fir trees. In addition “these were veritable deserts uninhabitable by animals and birds.”

Elsewhere, what he saw was more appealing and let him picture ways of developing these splendid, untouched areas in the near future.

We came to drop anchor in Quebec, a strait in the aforementioned river of Canada, which is three hundred paces wide… The country is smooth and lovely, containing good land full of trees such as oaks, cypresses, birches, pines and aspens and other wild fruit trees and vines, which, in my opnion, if cultivated, would be as good as our own.