Champlain's Dream

by David Hackett Fischer

  At the same time, the sieur de Mons preferred to live the quiet life of a country gentleman, and in a very old-fashioned way. In 1619, he used some of his profits in the American trade to buy a new estate called “d’Ardennes,” after the beautiful forest of Ardennes, five miles south of Pons in Saintonge—not to be confused with the Ardennes in Belgium and northeastern France. His house was a medieval château with walls flanked by towers of squared stone, and crowned with crenellated walkways. The main gate was protected by a portcullis and drawbridge, and the house was surrounded by polygonal moats. It had been the seat of a very large seigneury. De Mons bought only part of the property in 1618, and later succeeded in reuniting the entire fiefdom before his death. He made the house into a maison noble, and the retreat of a wealthy gentleman who preferred the rural life. There he died on February 22, 1628, and was buried in a small enclosure near the main gate of the Château d’Ardennes.49

  A friend who knew him well wrote that “the absence of signs of egoism, of greed, of cupidity was remarkable in this man, in whom it was easy to see generosity, benevolence, and sensibility.” Another observed that “amiability and good manners came naturally to him. He had no need to intrigue or give himself importance by craft or cunning.” His acquaintances added that he was “always the master of himself, calm in all circumstances, never impulsive, [and] he reflected before he acted. His ideas had the merit of being guided by the quality that we call judgment (bon sens). They were simple [and] well ordered.”50

  In Champlain and the sieur de Mons, Saintonge produced the two leading founders of New France. Their conduct was always an expression of the culture and values of the region in which they were raised. They had a unique spirit, very different from the Castilians who ruled New Spain, the East Anglian Puritans who dominated New England, the Dutch merchants and patroons of New Netherland, the Cavaliers who ran Virginia, the Quakers of Pennsylvania, the North Britons and Ulster Scots of Backcountry America. All these groups were admirable in many ways, but no two were quite alike. These men of Saintonge, Champlain and the sieur de Mons, shared a distinct regional culture, and they brought a special character to colonial enterprise.

  Other Frenchmen also settled in the new world: Normans, Bretons, Percherons, Parisians, Loudonnais, Bordelais, French Basques, and many others. The multiplicity of these groups gave the men of Saintonge another importance. The ancient history of the Santoni, the medieval geography of their region, diversity of their world, and the modern values of their culture helped them to work with others, and gave them strength as mediators among many groups. The spirit of their homeland appeared in the way that Champlain and the sieur de Mons conducted themselves and worked with others.

  3.

  HENRI IV AND CHAMPLAIN

  Monarch, Mentor, Patron, Friend

  His Majesty, to whom I was bound as much by birth as by the pension with which he honored me.

  —Champlain on his relationship with Henri IV, 16321

  King [and] country … God and the world.

  —Champlain on his loyalties and large purposes, 16322

  IN THE RANK-BOUND WORLD of sixteenth-century France, young Samuel Champlain had a very powerful friend. From an early date, he and his family formed a personal connection with the man who would become Henri IV, king of France from 1589 to 1610. How that relationship began, we do not know. Champlain wrote late in life that he was “obligé … de naissance,” obligated or bound by birth to the king. It is a curious phrase, and its meaning has never been explained.3

  Perhaps Champlain meant that his family had long been loyal supporters of Henri IV in a divided France, and they received many rewards for faithful service, which was certainly true. Champlain’s father was given a coveted commission as Captain in the Royal Navy of France. His uncle from Marseille received several commissions from the king. His Rochelais first cousin-in-law, Jacques Hersan or Hersaut, was given a special position in the Royal Household, with the wonderful title of “picqueur de chiens de la Chambre du Roy; chief whipper of dogs in the royal kennels.” It was not the most honorable of royal offices, but probably it paid well and brought other advantages. On legal documents, Jacques Hersan reproduced his royal title with great pride.4

  The most generous of these royal favors came to young Samuel Champlain himself. From an early date, the king paid him an annual pension. It began by the summer of 1601, perhaps earlier, before Champlain’s first voyage to Canada in 1603, and long before any of the major achievements for which we remember him. The pension continued every year until the king’s death in 1610, and intermittently thereafter.5 Henri IV was known to be generous to his friends, but these many favors to Champlain and his family were acts of extraordinary largesse. One might ask why. What was the origin of this special relationship between a great king, a family of humble origins, and a youth of modest rank? Perhaps Champlain’s relatives or even young Champlain himself performed some special service for the king. They might have done so in some moment of danger or desperation, which happened with some frequency in Henri’s life.

  Henri IV with tousled hair, curly beard, and the libidinous look of a faun or satyr. The sculptor has caught his lively intelligence and good humor, with the brow of a thinker and the eye of a dreamer. He was the most human of great kings—and one of the most humane.

  It is also possible that Champlain and the king had another connection of a different kind. For many years, rumors circulated among historians that Samuel de Champlain was the illegitimate son of a very high-born person in France. Two leading scholars put them in print. The great Canadian historian Marcel Trudel noted that some scholars have “been inclined to see in Champlain … the bastard of a great family.” A distinguished French historian, Hubert Deschamps, professor in the Institute of Political Studies at the University of Paris, asked if Champlain “was not the illegitimate son of a grande famille.”6 More than that, a report that Champlain was the son of the king himself reached the ears of Algonquin Indians in the St. Lawrence Valley. One of them was alleged to have said that he heard Champlain himself say it was so. The Indians passed on this belief in oral tradition through many generations.7

  None of these rumors has any probative value. No positive evidence to confirm them has been found by any scholar. The quantum of hard data in support of this hypothesis is approximately zero. But one may ask, could it have happened? Could Champlain have been the illegitimate son of Henri IV? Could such a hypothesis explain some of many anomalies in the life of Champlain? The answer is yes. It could have happened. If so, it would resolve many puzzles in Champlain’s life and work.

  At the time of Champlain’s birth, circa 1570, the future King Henri IV of France was Prince Henri de Béarn and Navarre. The prince was in his late teens. An engraving at that time shows him to have been remarkably mature for his age, and we know that he was sexually active, to say the least. He married his first wife in 1572. In the course of his life, he is known to have had at least fifty-six mistresses of record, and casual liaisons beyond counting. He is also known to have fathered at least eleven illegitimate children by five or more women.8

  Altogether, Henri IV scattered his seed widely through his kingdom, before and after he came to the throne. During the years from 1568 to 1572, the young prince was often in La Rochelle, where his mother was living at the time, about 25 miles from Brouage. He traveled widely in Saintonge, and was in the right place at the right time to have fathered Samuel by a woman of that region. The infant could have been adopted by a respectable bourgeois family, a common practice for illegitimate children of high-born parents in Champlain’s time, as in our own. The rank assumed by the king’s many illegitimate children was highly variable, and tended to follow the condition of their mothers.9

  Henri IV as a triumphant warrior king in black armor and a towering white panache of curled feathers. With a sceptre in one hand and a sword in the other, he called to the French people, “Ralliez vous à mon panache blanc!”

  The hypothesis that C
hamplain was the illegitimate son of Henri IV could explain why no records of his birth or baptism have ever been found, though many scholars have searched for them. It could account for the anomaly of Champlain’s social rank, which has long puzzled historians, and has given rise to a running controversy as to whether Champlain was a nobleman or commoner. Most scholars now agree that his family began in modest circumstances, and yet at an early age young Samuel was called the sieur de Champlain. He rarely wrote his name as “de Champlain,” usually as “Champlain.” The particule de noblesse and the honorific title of sieur were added to his name by others in official documents as early as 1595.10

  The date and circumstances are important. Champlain did not assume the title of “sieur” and the particule de noblesse for himself late in life, as several historians have mistakenly asserted. They were given to him by others when he was no older than twenty-four or twenty-five. These honorifics did not mean that a person had a title of nobility. They were marks of honor, commonly given to men of high birth, important offices, great achievements, long service, or advanced age. It is interesting that the particule de noblesse came to Champlain before he had done any of the deeds for which he is remembered. An intimate connection with the king could explain why he became the sieur de Champlain at a young age, even though he was not of a noble or wealthy family and had no major achievements to his credit.11

  It could also account for the royal pension that Champlain received every year from as early as 1601 until the king’s death in 1610. And it would help us to understand how and why Champlain had easy access to the person of the king. After returning from his early voyages to the West Indies, and before and after his journeys to Canada, Champlain was able to meet directly with Henri IV. It could help us understand another curious statement by Champlain—that the king made arrangements to keep him “about his person.”12

  And an illegitimate birth might explain Champlain’s extreme reticence on the subject of who he was, which was all the more remarkable by contrast with his effusive accounts of what he did. It would give a literal meaning to Champlain’s puzzling phrase, “obligé de naissance,” bound from birth to Henri IV. All these anomalies in Champlain’s life would no longer be strange if he was the illegitimate son of Henri IV. Together they make a long list.

  Such a connection would also help us to understand the troubles that came to Champlain after the death of Henri IV: the cold distance of Henri’s widow, Marie de Medici; the decision to end Champlain’s pension; and the hostility of her servant Cardinal Richelieu, who tried to remove Champlain from his position as lieutenant for New France. It could account for the refusal of those leaders to bestow any honors on Champlain, when others who did much less in New France were given more rewards in the form of titles of nobility, grants of land, and lucrative offices. Many historians have remarked on the refusal of Marie de Medici and Richelieu to honor Champlain, without being able to explain it.

  Some of these puzzling anomalies in Champlain’s career could be explained in other ways, without assuming that he was the illegitimate son of Henri IV. His developing relationship with the king might be understood as a sequence of contingencies. This alternative hypothesis might begin with the fact that Champlain’s family appear to have been loyal supporters of Prince Henri during the most difficult and dangerous years of his life. The center-west of France was his strongest base—especially Saintonge and Aunis. Henri’s most loyal supporters were families of modest wealth and middling rank, Protestant in their religion, but not dogmatic or doctrinaire—families such as the Champlain’s in Brouage; the Le Roys, Hersans, and Camarets in La Rochelle; the Boullés in Paris—all connected to Samuel de Champlain. They and others like them helped Prince Henri and his mother in the hour of their greatest need. When the prince gained the throne, he was generous to these families, as was his nature. He gave them offices, commissions, pensions, and other marks of royal favor.

  Then the young Saintongeois began to bring himself to the attention of the king. Suffice to say that Champlain was devoted to the king, loyal to his cause, and quick to seize opportunities to serve him. At the same time, the king himself appears to have taken a liking to this engaging young man and enjoyed having him about. This sequence of events, combined with the chemistry of a great king and the achievements of a personable young man, could explain the connection that developed between them.

  Whatever the root of Champlain’s special relationship to the king may have been, the fact of its existence is firmly established in the record of his life. Henri’s patronage was fundamental to the prosperity of the Champlain family, and it was instrumental in the success of Samuel de Champlain. The king’s intervention directly shaped the pivotal events in Champlain’s early career, and we shall see that this happened many times.

  Henri IV was not only a patron of Samuel de Champlain, but also a model and even a mentor. For this young man and many others, the king’s example of leadership was an inspiration, and Henri’s values became a creed that Champlain served all his life. To comprehend Champlain, we must understand the character of the king he served so faithfully. Without Henri IV there would have been no Champlain—as we have come to know him.

  In the long history of France, Henri IV has a unique place. It has been said that he was “the only king whose memory was cherished by the people.” His subjects remembered him as Henri le Grand, Henri the Great. In physical terms he (like Champlain) was not a large man. But there was a greatness in his acts and thoughts, a largeness in his energy and resolve, and an astonishing amplitude in both his virtues and his vices.13

  The qualities of this king were very different from those of other great figures in the history of France. In his personal style of life, Henri IV was far removed from the formal grandeur of Louis XIV, the imperial splendor of Napoleon, and also from the austere and distant condescension of Charles de Gaulle. The character of Henri IV appeared in the nicknames that his subjects invented for him. They celebrated him as le roi de coeur, the king of hearts. Others called him le passionné, the passionate one; or le roi libre, the free king. The literati liked to write of him as le vert-galant, the green gallant— vert with its ambiguous connotations of youth, energy, and (in French) promiscuous sexuality; galant in its mixed association with courtesy and inconstancy. These sobriquets referred to Henri’s public and private life. In his many love affairs Henri IV was indeed le roi de coeur, le roi passionné, and le roi libre all at once, in a sense that had nothing to do with political theory or public policy.14

  At the same time, Henri’s nicknames also described a unique style of kingship that flowed from the heart. Other monarchs cultivated a distance between themselves and their subjects. They used remoteness as an instrument of royal power. Henri went another way. He was known to leave his palace incognito, and mix with his subjects in informal ways. As a leader he was open, informal, warm, free-spirited, brave, witty, clever, generous to friends and enemies alike. He was also thought to be mercurial, fickle, unreliable, and untrustworthy. Another nickname, borrowed from his father, was “Henri l’ondoyant,” Henri the Unsteady. His best friends acknowledged his flaws, but his warmth and magnetism drew even his enemies to his service.

  Even with this cultivation of intimacy and informality, and in spite of his many vices, there was a common perception of greatness in this man. The strongest evidence appeared in his effect on the conduct of others. Even before he came to the throne, extraordinary things tended to happen when Henri was around: sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. His enemies were deeply alarmed by him and driven to extreme actions. Among his many friends, the king’s spirit and vision awakened great enterprises and inspired others to undertake them. Champlain was one of many young Frenchmen who responded to his leadership in that way. “Henri le Grand” was a man who made a difference in other men’s lives.

  To comprehend Champlain’s career, one must understand the character of this great king. As Champlain called himself a man of Saintonge, so Henri was
called le Béarnais, the man of Béarn. He came from the mountains of southwestern France, was born in the shadow of the Pyrénées, and brought up in a country château of great antiquity that still survives as his monument. The future king was very much a product of that special place. From infancy he was steeped in the culture of Béarn, which gave meaning to the old German saying that mountains make free. The people of that province were fiercely independent. They preserved their traditional liberties, and stubbornly retained their ancient rights until the Revolution of 1789.15

  Henri also cherished the language of Béarn, and he learned to speak it as his native tongue. At the age of four he was taken to the French court and presented to Henri II, a formidable character who asked the small boy if he would like to have the king for his father. The child looked to his parents and said in the speech of Béarn, “Quel es lo seigne pay; This is my father.” The king laughed and asked the child “if he could not be a son, would he be a son-in-law?” The boy answered boldly in his Béarnais dialect, “Obéi Yeah!” More impressive than what he said was the way he said it.16

  The young prince’s father, Antoine de Bourbon, came from one of the great noble families of France. He was a brave soldier, but some described him with the same word that others would later use for his son: ondoyant, unsteady, unreliable. Henri’s mother, Jeanne d’Albret, was made of sterner stuff. She was handsome, headstrong, smart, tough, and extraordinarily able. As heiress to the kingdom of Navarre and the county of Béarn, she held great power in her hands, and she used it to great effect.17

  Jeanne d’Albret converted to Protestantism, as did many of her subjects in southwestern France. She deliberately kept her son away from Catholic Paris and the Valois court, which she regarded with contempt. She raised him as a Protestant and brought him up to be a young man of broad cultivation and independent spirit. He was trained as a soldier and became highly skilled in the profession of arms. He was also taught by his mother to be a leader. At an early age he was given challenging assignments that required tact, judgment, and a mastery of the intricate politics in Béarn and Navarre. Those skills were soon summoned to a larger stage.18