The Conquest of Canada, Vol. 1

The menaces and persuasions that had so often enabled Columbus to overcome the turbulence and fears of his followers now ceased to be of any avail. He gave way to an irresistible necessity, and promised that he would return to Spain, if unsuccessful in their search for three days more. To this brief delay the mutineers consented. The signs of land now brought almost certainty to the mind of the great leader. The sounding-line brought up such soil as is only found near the shore: birds were seen of a kind supposed never to venture on a long flight. A piece of newly-cut cane floated past, and a branch of a tree bearing fresh berries was taken up by the sailors. The clouds around the setting sun wore a new aspect, and the breeze became warm and variable. On the evening of the 11th of October every sail was furled, and strict watch kept, lest the ships might drift ashore during the night.

On board the admiral's vessel all hands were invariably assembled for the evening hymn; on this occasion a public prayer for success was added, and with those holy sounds Columbus hailed the appearance of that small, shifting light,43 which crowned with certainty his long-cherished hope,44 turned his faith into realization,45 and stamped his name forever upon the memory of man.46

It was by accident only that England had been deprived of the glory of these great discoveries. Columbus, when repulsed by the courts of Portugal and Spain, sent his brother Bartholomew to London,47 to lay his projects before Henry VII., and seek assistance for their execution. The king, although the most penurious of European princes, saw the vast advantage of the offer, and at once invited the great Genoese to his court. Bartholomew was, however, captured by pirates on his return voyage, and detained till too late, for in the mean while Isabella of Castile had adopted the project of Columbus, and supplied the means for the expedition.

Henry VII. was not discouraged by this disappointment: two years after the discoveries of Columbus became known in England, the king entered into an arrangement with John Cabot, an adventurous Venetian merchant, resident at Bristol, and, on the 5th of March, 1495, granted him letters patent for conquest and discovery. Henry stipulated that one fifth of the gains in this enterprise was to be retained for the crown, and that the vessels engaged in it should return to the port of Bristol. On the 24th of June, 1497, Cabot discovered the coast of Labrador, and gave it the name of Primavista. This was, without doubt, the first visit of Europeans to the Continent of North America,48 since the time of the Scandinavian voyages. A large island lay opposite to this shore: from the vast quantity of fish frequenting the neighboring waters, the sailors called it Bacallaos.49 Cabot gave this country the name of St. John's, having landed there on St. John's day. Newfoundland has long since superseded both appellations. John Cabot returned to England in August of the same year, and was knighted and otherwise rewarded by the king; he survived but a very short time in the enjoyment of his fame, and his son Sebastian Cabot, although only twenty-three years of age, succeeded him in the command of an expedition destined to seek a northwest passage to the South Seas.

Sebastian Cabot sailed in the summer of 1498: he soon reached Newfoundland, and thence proceeded north as far as the fifty-eighth degree. Having failed in discovering the hoped-for passage, he returned toward the south, examining the coast as far as the southern boundary of Maryland, and perhaps Virginia. After a long interval, the enterprising mariner again, in 1517, sailed for America, and entered the bay50 which, a century afterward, received the name of Hudson. If prior discovery confer a right of possession, there is no doubt that the whole eastern coast of the North American Continent may be justly claimed by the English race.51

Gaspar Cortereal was the next voyager in the succession of discoverers: he had been brought up in the household of the King of Portugal, but nourished an ardent spirit of enterprise and thirst for glory, despite the enervating influences of a court. He sailed early in the year 1500, and pursued the track of John Cabot as far as the northern point of Newfoundland; to him is due the discovery of the Gulf of St. Lawrence,52 and he also pushed on northward, by the coast of Labrador,53 almost to the entrance of Hudson's Bay. The adventurer returned to Lisbon in October of the same year. This expedition was undertaken more for mercantile advantage than for the advancement of knowledge; timber and slaves seem to have been the objects; no less than fifty-seven of the natives were brought back to Portugal, and doomed to bondage. These unhappy savages proved so robust and useful, that great benefits were anticipated from trading on their servitude;54 the dreary and distant land of their birth, covered with snow for half the year, was despised by the Portuguese, whose thoughts and hopes were ever turned to the fertile plains, the sunny skies, and the inexhaustible treasures of the East.55

But disaster and destruction soon fell upon these bold and merciless adventurers. In a second voyage, the ensuing year, Cortereal and all his followers were lost at sea: when some time had elapsed without tidings of their fate, his brother sailed to seek them; but he too, probably, perished in the stormy waters of the North Atlantic, for none of them were ever heard of more. The King of Portugal, feeling a deep interest in these brothers, fitted out three armed vessels and sent them to the northwest. Inquiries were made along the wild shores which Cortereal had first explored, without trace or tidings being found of the bold mariner, and the ocean was searched for many months, but the deep still keeps it secret.

Florida was discovered in 1512 by Ponce de Leon, one of the most eminent among the followers of Columbus. The Indians had told him wonderful tales of a fountain called Bimini, in an island of these seas; the fountain possessed the power, they said, of restoring instantly youth and vigor to those who bathed in its waters. He sailed for months in search of this miraculous spring, landing at every point, entering each port, however shallow or dangerous, still ever hoping; but in the weak and presumptuous effort to grasp at a new life, he wasted away his strength and energy, and prematurely brought on those ills of age he had vainly hoped to shun. Nevertheless, this wild adventure bore its wholesome fruits, for Ponce de Leon then first brought to the notice of Europe that beautiful land which, from its wonderful fertility and the splendor of its flowers, obtained the name of Florida.56

The first attempt made by the French to share in the advantages of these discoveries was in the year 1504. Some Basque and Breton fishermen at that time began to ply their calling on the Great Bank of Newfoundland, and along the adjacent shores. From them the Island of Cape Breton received its name. In 1506, Jean Denys, a man of Harfleur, drew a map of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Two years afterward, a pilot of Dieppe, named Thomas Aubert, excited great curiosity in France by bringing over some of the savage natives from the New World: there is no record whence they were taken, but it is supposed from Cape Breton. The reports borne back to France by these hardy fishermen and adventurers were not such as to raise sanguine hopes of riches from the bleak northern regions they had visited: no teeming fertility or genial climate tempted the settler, no mines of gold or silver excited the avarice of the soldier;57 and for many years the French altogether neglected to profit by their discoveries.

In the mean time, Pope Alexander VI. issued a bull bestowing the whole of the New World upon the kings of Spain and Portugal.58 Neither England nor France allowed the right of conferring this magnificent and undefined gift; it did not throw the slightest obstacle in the path of British enterprise and discovery, and the high-spirited Francis I. of France refused to acknowledge the papal decree.59

In the year 1523, Francis I. fitted out a squadron of four ships to pursue discovery60 in the west; the command was intrusted to Giovanni Verazzano, of Florence, a navigator of great skill and experience, then residing in France: he was about thirty-eight years of age, nobly born, and liberally educated; the causes that induced him to leave his own country and take service in France are not known. It has often been remarked as strange that three Italians should have directed the discoveries of Spain, England, and France, and thus become the instruments of dividing the dominions of the New World among alien powers, while their own classic land reaped neither glory nor advantage from the genius and courage of her sons. Of this first voyage the only record remaining is a letter from Verazzano to Francis I., dated 8th of July, 1524, merely stating that he had returned in safety to Dieppe.

At the beginning of the following year Verazzano fitted out and armed a vessel called the Dauphine, manned with a crew of thirty hands, and provisioned for eight months. He first directed his course to Madeira; having reached that island in safety, he left it on the 17th of January and steered for the west. After a narrow escape from the violence of a tempest, and having proceeded for about nine hundred leagues, a long, low line of coast rose to view, never before seen by ancient or modern navigators. This country appeared thickly peopled by a vigorous race, of tall stature and athletic form; fearing to risk a landing at first with his weak force, the adventurer contented himself with admiring at a distance the grandeur and beauty of the scenery, and enjoying the delightful mildness of the climate. From this place he followed the coast for about fifty leagues to the south, without discovering any harbor or inlet where he might shelter his vessel; he then retraced his course and steered to the north. After some time Verazzano ventured to send a small boat on shore to examine the country more closely: numbers of savages came to the water's edge to meet the strangers, and gazed on them with mingled feelings of surprise, admiration, joy, and fear. He again resumed his northward course, till, driven by want of water, he armed the small boat and sent it once more toward the land to seek a supply; the waves and surf, however, were so great that it could not reach the shore. The natives assembled on the beach, by their signs and gestures, eagerly invited the French to approach: one young sailor, a bold swimmer, threw himself into the water, bearing some presents for the savages, but his heart failed him on a nearer approach, and he turned to regain the boat; his strength was exhausted, however, and a heavy sea washed him, almost insensible, up upon the beach. The Indians treated him with great kindness, and, when he had sufficiently recovered, sent him back in safety to the ship.61

Verazzano pursued his examination of the coast with untiring zeal, narrowly searching every inlet for a passage through to the westward, until he reached the great island known to the Breton fishermen—Newfoundland. In this important voyage he surveyed more than two thousand miles of coast, nearly all that of the present United States, and a great portion of British North America.

A short time after Verazzano's return to Europe, he fitted out another expedition, with the sanction of Francis I., for the establishment of a colony in the newly-discovered countries. Nothing certain is known of the fate of this enterprise, but the bold navigator returned to France no more; the dread inspired by his supposed fate62 deterred the French king and people from any further adventure across the Atlantic during many succeeding years. In later times it has come to light that Verazzano was alive thirteen years after this period:63 those best informed on the subject are of opinion that the enterprise fell to the ground in consequence of Francis I. having been captured by the Emperor Charles V., and that the adventurer withdrew himself from the service of France, having lost his patron's support.

The year after the failure of Verazzano's last enterprise, 1525, Stefano Gomez sailed from Spain for Cuba and Florida; thence he steered northward in search of the long-hoped-for passage to India, till he reached Cape Race, on the south-eastern extremity of Newfoundland. The further details of his voyage remain unknown, but there is reason to suppose that he entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence and traded upon its shores. An ancient Castilian tradition existed that the Spaniards visited these coasts before the French, and having perceived no appearance of mines or riches, they exclaimed frequently, "Aca nada;"64 the natives caught up the sound, and when other Europeans arrived, repeated it to them. The strangers concluded that these words were a designation, and from that time this magnificent country bore the name of Canada.65

CHAPTER II

In the year 1534, Philip Chabot, admiral of France, urged the king to establish a colony in the New World,66 by representing to him in glowing colors the great riches and power derived by the Spaniards from their transatlantic possessions. Francis I., alive to the importance of the design, soon agreed to carry it out. Jacques Cartier, an experienced navigator of St. Malo, was recommended by the admiral to be intrusted with the expedition, and was approved of by the king. On the 20th of April, 1534, Cartier sailed from St. Malo with two ships of only sixty tons burden each, and one hundred and twenty men for their crews:67 he directed his course westward, inclining rather to the north; the winds proved so favorable, that on the twentieth day of the voyage he made Cape Bonavista, in Newfoundland. But the harbors of that dreary country were still locked up in the winter's ice, forbidding the approach of shipping: he then bent to the southeast, and at length found anchorage at St. Catharine, six degrees lower in latitude. Having remained here ten days, he again turned to the north, and on the 21st of May reached Bird Island, fourteen leagues from the coast.

Jacques Cartier examined all the northern shores of Newfoundland, without having ascertained that it was an island, and then passed southward through the Straits of Belleisle. The country appeared every where the same bleak and inhospitable wilderness;68 but the harbors were numerous, convenient, and abounding in fish. He describes the natives as well-proportioned men, wearing their hair tied up over their heads like bundles of hay, quaintly interlaced with birds' feathers.69 Changing his course still more to the south, he then traversed the Gulf of St. Lawrence, approached the main-land, and on the 9th of July entered a deep bay; from the intense heat experienced there, he named it the "Baye de Chaleurs." The beauty of the country, and the kindness and hospitality of his reception, alike charmed him; he carried on a little trade with the friendly savages, exchanging European goods for their furs and provisions.

Leaving this bay, Jacques Cartier visited a considerable extent of the gulf coast; on the 24th of July he erected a cross thirty feet high, with a shield bearing the fleurs-de-lys of France, on the shore of Gaspé Bay.70 Having thus taken possession71 of the country for his king in the usual manner of those days, he sailed, the 25th of July, on his homeward voyage: at this place two of the natives were seized by stratagem, carried on board the ships, and borne away to France. Cartier coasted along the northern shores of the Gulf till the 15th of August, and even entered the mouth of the River St. Lawrence, but the weather becoming stormy, he determined to delay his departure no longer: he passed again through the Straits of Belleisle, and arrived at St. Malo on the 5th of September, 1534, contented with his success, and full of hope for the future.

Jacques Cartier was received with the consideration due to the importance of his report. The court at once perceived the advantage of an establishment in this part of America, and resolved to take steps for its foundation. Charles de Moncy, Sieur de la Mailleraye, vice-admiral of France, was the most active patron of the undertaking; through his influence Cartier obtained a more effective force, and a new commission, with ampler powers than before. When the preparations for the voyage were completed, the adventurers all assembled in the Cathedral of St. Malo, on Whitsunday, 1535, by the command of their pious leader; the bishop then gave them a solemn benediction, with all the imposing ceremonials of the Romish Church.

On the 19th of May Jacques Cartier embarked, and started on his voyage with fair wind and weather. The fleet consisted of three small ships, the largest being only one hundred and twenty tons burden. Many adventurers and young men of good family accompanied the expedition as volunteers. On the morrow the wind became adverse, and rose to a storm; the heavens lowered over the tempestuous sea; for more than a month the utmost skill of the mariners could only enable them to keep their ships afloat, while tossed about at the mercy of the waves. The little fleet was dispersed on the 25th of June: each vessel then made for the coast of Newfoundland as it best might. The general's vessel, as that of Cartier was called, was the first to gain the land, on the 7th of July, and there awaited her consorts; but they did not arrive till the 26th of the month. Having taken in supplies of fuel and water, they sailed in company to explore the Gulf of St. Lawrence. A violent storm arose on the 1st of August, forcing them to seek shelter. They happily found a port on the north shore, at the entrance of the Great River, where, though difficult of access, there was a safe anchorage. Jacques Cartier called it St. Nicolas, and it is now almost the only place still bearing the name he gave. They left their harbor on the 7th, coasting westward along the north shore, and on the 10th came to a gulf filled with numerous and beautiful islands.72 Cartier gave this gulf the name of St. Lawrence, having discovered it on that saint's festival day.73

On the 15th of August they reached a long, rocky island toward the south, which Cartier named L'Isle de l'Assumption, now called Anticosti.74 Thence they continued their course, examining carefully both shores of the Great River,75 and occasionally holding communication with the inhabitants, till, on the 1st of September, they entered the mouth of the deep and gloomy Saguenay. The entrance of this great tributary was all they had leisure to survey; but the huge rocks, dense forests, and vast body of water, forming a scene of somber magnificence such as had never before met their view, inspired them with an exalted idea of the country they had discovered. Still passing to the southwest up the St. Lawrence, on the 6th they reached an island abounding in delicious filberts, and on that account named by the voyagers Isle aux Coudres. Cartier, being now so far advanced into an unknown country, looked out anxiously for a port where his vessels might winter in safety. He pursued his voyage till he came upon another island, of great extent, fertility, and beauty, covered with woods and thick, clustering vines. This he named Isle de Bacchus:76 it is now called Orleans. On the 7th of September, Donnacona, the chief of the country,77 came with twelve canoes filled by his train, to hold converse with the strangers, whose ships lay at anchor between the island and the north shore of the Great River. The Indian chief approached the smallest of the ships with only two canoes, fearful of causing alarm, and began an oration, accompanied with strange and uncouth gestures. After a time he conversed with the Indians who had been seized on the former voyage, and now acted as interpreters. He heard from them of their wonderful visit to the great nation over the salt lake, of the wisdom and power of the white men, and of the kind treatment they had received among the strangers. Donnacona appeared moved with deep respect and admiration; he took Jacques Cartier's arm and placed it gently over his own bended neck, in token of confidence and regard. The admiral cordially returned these friendly demonstrations. He entered the Indian's canoe, and presented bread and wine, which they ate and drank together. They then parted in all amity.

After this happy interview, Jacques Cartier, with his boats, pushed up the north shore against the stream, till he reached a spot where a little river flowed into a "goodly and pleasant sound," forming a convenient haven.78 He moored his vessels here for the winter on the 16th of September, and gave the name of St. Croix to the stream, in honor of the day on which he first entered its waters; Donnacona, accompanied by a train of five hundred Indians, came to welcome his arrival with generous friendship. In the angle formed by the tributary stream and the Great River, stood the town of Stadacona, the dwelling-place of the chief; thence an irregular slope ascended to a lofty height of table-land: from this eminence a bold headland frowned over the St. Lawrence, forming a rocky wall three hundred feet in height. The waters of the Great River—here narrowed to less than a mile in breath—rolled deeply and rapidly past into the broad basin beyond. When the white men first stood on the summit of this bold headland, above their port of shelter, most of the country was fresh from the hand of the Creator; save the three small barks lying at the mouth of the stream, and the Indian village, no sign of human habitation met their view. Far as the eye could reach, the dark forest spread; over hill and valley, mountain and plain; up to the craggy peaks, down to the blue water's edge; along the gentle slopes of the rich Isle of Bacchus, and even from projecting rocks, and in fissures of the lofty precipice, the deep green mantle of the summer foliage hung its graceful folds. In the dim distance, north, south, east, and west, where mountain rose above mountain in tumultuous variety of outline, it was still the same; one vast leafy vail concealed the virgin face of Nature from the stranger's sight. On the eminence commanding this scene of wild but magnificent beauty, a prosperous city now stands; the patient industry of man has felled that dense forest, tree by tree, for miles and miles around, and where it stood, rich fields rejoice the eye; the once silent waters of the Great River below now surge against hundreds of stately ships; commerce has enriched this spot, art adorned it; a memory of glory endears it to every British heart. But the name Quebec79 still remains unchanged; as the savage first pronounced it to the white stranger, it stands to-day among the proudest records of our country's story.

The chief Donnacona and the French continued in friendly intercourse, day by day exchanging good offices and tokens of regard. But Jacques Cartier was eager for further discoveries; the two Indian interpreters told him that a city of much larger size than Stadacona lay further up the river, the capital of a great country; it was called in the native tongue Hochelaga; thither he resolved to find his way. The Indians endeavored vainly to dissuade their dangerous guests from this expedition; they represented the distance, the lateness of the season, the danger of the great lakes and rapid currents; at length they had recourse to a kind of masquerade or pantomime, to represent the perils of the voyage, and the ferocity of the tribes inhabiting that distant land. The interpreters earnestly strove to dissuade Jacques Cartier from proceeding on his enterprise, and one of them refused to accompany him. The brave Frenchman would not hearken to such dissuasions, and treated with equal contempt the verbal and pantomimic warnings of the alleged difficulties. As a precautionary measure to impress the savages with an exalted idea of his power as a friend or foe, he caused twelve cannon loaded with bullets to be fired in their presence against a wood; amazed and terrified at the noise, and the effects of this discharge, they fled, howling and shrieking, away.

Jacques Cartier sailed for Hochelaga on the 19th of September; he took with him the Hermerillon, one of his smallest ships, the pinnace, and two long-boats, bearing thirty-five armed men, with their provisions and ammunition. The two larger vessels and their crews were left in the harbor of St. Croix, protected by poles and stakes driven into the water so as to form a barricade. The voyage presented few of the threatened difficulties; the country on both sides of the Great River was rich and varied, covered with stately timber, and abounding in vines. The natives were every where friendly and hospitable; all that they possessed was freely offered to the strangers. At a place called Hochelai, the chief of the district visited the French, and showed much friendship and confidence, presenting Jacques Cartier with a girl seven years of age, one of his own children.