Champlain's Dream

by David Hackett Fischer

The Île Percée, on the eastern end of the Gaspé Peninsula, was a giant rock of red sandstone, a quarter mile long and 300 feet high. Famed for its enormous sea-carved arches (now reduced to one), it served Champlain and his captains as an aid to navigation.

  Tadoussac’s small circular harbor had long been a center of trade in the lower St. Lawrence River. Theodore de Bry’s print (1592), shows a canoe and whaling vessel of 50 or 60 tons. The whale is a white beluga with a rounded head and no dorsal fin, so it can break the winter ice. A pod still lives in these waters.

  Champlain and Pont-Gravé acted quickly. They and the two Montagnais interpreters climbed into a shallop, sailed across the windswept Saguenay River, and went into the huge Indian camp. It was a lively scene: billowing clouds of white smoke rising above the lodges, a swirl of color and movement in the camp, crowds of young braves and beautifully dressed Indian maidens mixing with each other, gangs of children and packs of dogs dashing to and fro. The Indian drums were beating in celebration. More than a hundred fresh Iroquois scalps were on display. Wounded Iroquois captives were tightly bound to stakes, and their torture had already begun. Blood dripped from what remained of slashed and shattered fingers, as they stoically awaited their fate.

  Champlain’s very accurate chart of Tadoussac and the mouth of the Saguenay River, with St. Matthew’s Point (Pointe aux Alouettes) to the West. Note the depth of the river: 250 French fathoms, or 1500 feet. On shore are Indian bark houses and the ruins of Chauvin’s failed colony.

  The two French leaders came ashore with their young Montagnais companions and walked boldly into the camp. They showed not the slightest sign of fear or hostility—a demeanor that was very different from that of many Europeans. Probably they were wearing half-armor and gleaming steel helmets, adorned with the white plumes of their Bourbon king, but without firearms—different again from others in similar circumstances.19

  Pont-Gravé, Champlain, and the Montagnais were taken to a chief they called Anadabijou. They found him in a big bark lodge sixty or seventy paces long, holding a tabagie, a tobacco-feast for “eighty or one hundred companions.” Champlain described these leaders as sagamores, and Anadabijou of the Tadoussac Montagnais as the “grand sagamore” who presided over the gathering as the host.20

  Anadabijou welcomed the French “according to the custom of the country,” and invited them to sit in a place of honor. When all were seated, an expectant silence followed. Then one of the two Montagnais who had been to France rose and began to speak. He described the castles and cities he had seen, spoke warmly of his meeting with Henri IV, and talked at length of his good treatment by the people in France. Champlain remembered that the young Indian was heard “with the greatest possible silence.” When he finished, the grand sagamore smoked a long pipe, passed it to the other sagamores and to Pont-Gravé, and began to speak “with great gravity.” He said that “in truth they ought to be very glad to have His Majesty for their great friend.” The Indians “all answered in one voice, ho, ho, ho, which is to say, yes, yes.”

  Anadabijou paused, then spoke again. He said to the Indian nations that it would be well if “His Majesty [the king of France] should people their land, and make war on their enemies, and there was no nation in the world to which they wished more good than to the French.” Champlain wrote that the sagamore “gave them all to understand the advantage and profit they might receive from His Majesty.”21

  After the speeches, the Indians returned to their feast and invited the French to join in. The kettles were filled with “the flesh of moose” which Champlain found very much like beef. There was also the meat of bear, seal, beaver, and “great quantities of wild fowl.” Then a round of ceremonies began. Champlain watched in fascination as a warrior rose to his feet, picked up a dog, “and went leaping about the kettles from one end of the lodge to the other.” When he came in front of the Anadabijou, he hurled the dog violently to the ground. Then all in one voice cried “ho, ho, ho!” Other warriors did the same. After the feast the Indians began a triumphant scalp dance, “taking in their hands as a mark of rejoicing the scalps of their enemies.” The dancing continued into the night, then all retired.22

  At first light, the grand sagamore emerged from his lodge and ran shouting through the sleeping camp. Anadabijou cried in a loud voice that they should break camp, go to Tadoussac, and visit their friends the French. Champlain watched as “every man pulled down his cabanne in less than no time at all.” He noted that “the great sagamore himself was the first to pick up his canoe and carry it to the water, and he embarked with his wife and children with a quantity of furs.” Champlain was quick to observe that rank and power worked differently among the Indians.23

  The French watched in amazement as two hundred canoes went into the water, and began to move across the turbulent open water of the Saguenay River toward Tadoussac at astonishing speed. Champlain wrote, “our shallop was well manned, but their canoes went much faster.” He was fascinated by the birchbark canoes, so light that a single man could carry them on land, and yet so strong and buoyant that they could carry many men, or a cargo of a thousand pounds.24

  The canoes converged on Tadoussac harbor where Bonne-Renommée lay at anchor. The Indians went ashore, built a new camp and began another celebration. Champlain had never seen anything like it. “After they had made good cheer,” he wrote, “the Algoumequins [Algonquin], one of the three nations, went out of their lodges and withdrew by themselves in an open place. They placed all their women and girls side by side, and themselves stood behind, all singing and dancing in unison.”

  Champlain delighted in their singing and dancing. He wrote: “They do not stir from one spot when they dance, but make certain gestures and motions of the body, first lifting up one foot, and then the other, and stamping on the ground.” “Suddenly,” he continued, “all the women and girls began to take off their deerskin robes and stripped themselves stark naked, revealing their private parts, and wearing nothing but ornaments of beads and braided cords of dyed porcupine quills in many colors.” Champlain described the beauty of these girls and young women, their supple bodies undulating before him. “All these people are well proportioned in body, without any deformity,” he observed. “They are agile, and the women are well shaped, filled out and plump, of a swarthy color.” When the song was done, the Indian warriors turned toward the naked women and shouted “ho, Ho, HO!” The dancers demurely put on their robes, did their dance again, and “let fall their robes as before.”25

  After the Algonquin women finished their dance, a sagamore of the Algonquin, who was called Bessouat or Tessoüat, rose and said: “See how we rejoice in the victory we have won over our enemies. You must do the same, and we will be content.” Once more the Indians shouted. Then Anadabijou and all the Montagnais and Etchemin rose and stripped themselves naked except for a small piece of deerskin over their genitals. Each took up something of value to them, jewelry or tomahawks, kettles, pieces of meat, and gave it to the Algonquin.26

  After more dances and celebrations the Indians retired to their lodges. Champlain delighted in their company. He was fascinated by their character and culture, and quick to perceive its complexity. “All these people are of a joyous humor, and they laugh frequently,” he wrote, “and yet they are somewhat saturnine.” By “saturnine” he meant that they had an undertone of melancholy. That tension deeply interested him, and he reflected much on it. He also listened closely to their speeches, probably with the two young Montagnais translating in his ear. “They speak very deliberately,” Champlain wrote, “as though they would make themselves well understood, and stopping suddenly, reflect for a good while, and then begin to speak again.”27

  Champlain was curious about the Indians, and happy to be among them. That attitude was reciprocated, but feelings were very complex. In the midst of much warmth, there was also a wariness on all sides. Both groups remained on their guard toward each other, and with good reason. But together they began to build a relationship that would b
e one of the longest and strongest on record between Europeans and Native Americans.

  Here was a moment of high importance in the history of North America. Nobody had planned these events, but both French and Indian leaders were quick to see an opportunity. The Great Tabagie marked the beginning of an alliance between the founders of New France and three Indian nations. Each entered willingly into the relationship and gained something of value in return. The Indians acquired a potential ally against their mortal enemies, the Iroquois. The French won support for settlement, exploration, and trade. The alliance that formed here would remain strong for many years because it rested on a mutuality of material interest.28

  The leaders who had met at Pointe aux Alouettes also did something else. They gave a tone to the alliance. Pont-Gravé, Champlain, Anadabijou, the sagamores, and most of all the two young Montagnais who had been to Paris did that together. They treated each other with dignity, forbearance, and respect. They began to build an atmosphere of trust that was fundamental to relations between Europeans and Indians. They also kept it growing. When trust grew strong, many things were possible. When trust was lost, it was rarely regained. This meeting was important for that spirit, as well as for its substance. It marked the beginning of a relationship that was unique in the long history of European colonization in America. Something of its spirit has endured in Canada between Europeans and Indians even to our own time—an extraordinary achievement.29

  * * *

  After meeting with the Indians, Champlain turned to another task, which was to explore the rivers of Canada. The object was to seek the most promising arteries of trade, and to find the best site for a permanent settlement. His starting point was the little cove at Tadoussac. In 1603, it was truly the crossroads of Canada, the place where two major lines of communication met. The great Canadian scholar Marcel Trudel has suggested that New France might have developed on two different axes. One ran from the northeast to the southwest, following the line of the St. Lawrence River to the Great Lakes. The other went southeast to northwest, following the Saguenay River and its tributaries toward Hudson Bay.30

  Each had its attractions. The St. Lawrence offered advantages of climate, soil, and an avenue to the interior of a continent. The Saguenay was the source of the most lustrous and valuable furs, which came from animals in colder regions of the north. It also held the promise of a northwest passage to Asia.31 Champlain wanted to explore them both. The mission commander, Pont-Gravé, ordered the carpenters to fit out one of the small vessels that had been carried on board Bonne-Renommée, a barque of about 12 to 15 tons. It was no small labor to assemble that vessel, caulk her seams, put her in the water, ship a rudder, step her masts, reeve the rigging, bend the sails, and prepare her for a voyage. While the artisans were hard at work, Champlain was also very busy. This restless young man rarely sat in idleness. He began by studying the land around Tadoussac. Working ashore, Champlain searched for the remains of earlier visitors. He found the house that Chauvin had built in 1600 and other remnants of that ill-fated colony. And he also discovered traces of three French sailors who wintered there after they had been marooned by their Malouin captain.

  Champlain made a chart of Tadoussac harbor. He sketched the shoreline in meticulous detail and checked his accuracy by using his compasses to make careful cross-bearings. Then he surveyed the waters of the harbor itself, working with a lead line from the bow of a shallop. After he finished his chart, he began to survey the Saguenay River. It was more like a fjord than a river, with rocky hills and rugged mountains on both sides, falling steeply to the water’s edge. Probably he began by taking soundings with a small lead line. To his amazement he could not find the bottom. He got out Bonne-Renommée’s dipsey lead, which had hundreds of fathoms of line. With that equipment in hand, Champlain and his crew began to sound the depths of the Saguenay River, which was a mile wide at its mouth. The French seamen who were swinging the heavy lead sang out that the water was 250 fathoms deep—1,500 feet! Champlain discovered that the mouth of the Saguenay River had a “profondeur incroyable, truly an incredible depth.”32 He was also astonished by the very cold temperature of the river water that flowed from the frozen north. The current was so strong that even “at three-quarter tide running into the river, it is still flowing out.”

  The deep cold water of the Saguenay supported an abundance of marine life. It was home to a large pod of handsome small white Beluga whales. They had been there long before Champlain’s time. For many generations, Basque ships came to hunt them, but these beautiful white creatures are still there today—swimming with exquisite grace, like spirits from another planet. They were yet another wonder of this astonishing new world.33

  Champlain finished a chart for the mouth of the Saguenay River, and on June 12, 1603, he began to work his way upstream. Altogether he spent a week on the river, and went “twelve or fifteen leagues,” halfway to the great waterfall of Chicoutimi. Champlain described the Saguenay as a belle rivière, but the countryside did not attract him. He wrote, “The whole region as far as I could see was nothing but rocky mountains, mostly covered with fir, cypress and birch, a most unpleasant land.” The waters from the north made it one of the coldest places in the St. Lawrence Valley. “In short,” Champlain noted of its banks, “these are true deserts, unfit for animals or birds.”34

  Champlain concluded that the lower Saguenay was not suitable for permanent settlement, but he wanted to learn more about it as an artery of trade, and perhaps a route to the northwest passage. He hoped to follow the river to its source, but his Montagnais allies were not happy about that idea. They told him in no uncertain terms that he should go no farther up the Saguenay. “I often desired to explore it,” Champlain wrote later, “but have been unable to do so without the natives, who have been unwilling that I or any of our people should do so.”35

  The Montagnais functioned as middlemen in a lucrative fur trade, acquiring thick subarctic pelts from northern nations that Champlain called the Peribonka, Mistassini, and Ashuapmouchouan. The Montagnais bought their furs and sold them to Europeans and other Indian nations at Tadoussac. This trade was their leading source of income, and they did not permit other traders—Indian or European—to go up the Saguenay on pain of death. Control of this artery was vital to their prosperity. Other Indian nations did the same thing: the Attikamèques in the valley of the Saint-Maurice River, the Nipissing further northwest, and the Huron in their hinterland to the west.36

  Champlain was careful not to challenge the Montagnais on this issue. His success with the Indians arose from a sensitivity to their vital interests, and he took great care not to trespass upon them. But the Montagnais also understood his interest in the Saguenay, and they were willing to talk in general terms about the country to the north. They also appear to have had no objection to Champlain’s survey of the lower Saguenay.37

  In Champlain’s explorations he always worked with the Indians, quizzing them about the country, carefully recording their reports, and noting clearly what he had not seen with his own eyes. He learned much from them, listened with a critical ear, and asked them to sketch maps with charcoal on pieces of white birch. He learned carefully from their knowledge, and the information proved to be highly accurate. They told him about the waterfall at Chicoutimi, the head of navigation on the Saguenay, and many other falls and rivers upstream. The Montagnais informed Champlain of other Indian nations far to the north who lived within sight of a great salt sea. He wrote, “If this be so, it is some gulf of this our [Atlantic] sea, which overflows in the north into the midst of the continent, and indeed it can be nothing else.”38

  Champlain instantly recognized the Indians’ great salt sea as Hudson Bay. He knew that the English had already been there, searching for a route to China. In a week or two on the Saguenay, he had gained a remarkably accurate idea of the country that lay eight hundred miles north of the St. Lawrence Valley. He sketched it from the descriptions of the Indians, being careful to note that he had not se
en it himself.

  After his week on the lower Saguenay, Champlain returned to Tadoussac. The river barque was ready, and it was time to explore the St. Lawrence River. Pont-Gravé decided to lead this journey himself, with Champlain at his side. The primary purpose was to find sites for settlement, and to learn about the territory that lay to the west. Champlain’s assignment was to chart the river. He tells us that he brought lead lines, a compass, and what was probably a small traveling astrolabe for calculating latitude. The barque also carried skiffs that held seven or eight people and were useful for exploring shallows and small streams.39

  They were not the first Europeans to study the St. Lawrence Valley. Later, Champlain would come upon the chimneys of Cartier’s habitation. He found rotting wooden crosses and traces of other European visitors. But Champlain went about his exploration more systematically than his predecessors had done. This was a major expedition, carefully planned and fully equipped, with ample provisions for more than two months on the river.

  It was also a reconnaissance in force by a large party of armed Frenchmen with Indian guides, commanded by Pont-Gravé but increasingly guided by Champlain. They were heading into dangerous territory, close to Iroquois country. Champlain hoped to meet them. Ever the optimist, he was eager to “make friends with the Iroquois.” But always the realist, he understood that any friend of the Algonquin and Montagnais might be taken as an enemy by the Iroquois. The French went in peace with Indian guides but prepared to defend themselves if attacked.40

  On June 18, 1603, they left Tadoussac harbor, and made a slow passage up the St. Lawrence with the current and westerly winds against them. For many miles the riverbanks were disappointing to them. “All this coast is nothing but mountains both on the south side and the north, most of it like the Saguenay coast,” he wrote.41