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Let us now ascend to the island of Montreal. Here, as we have
seen, an association of devout and zealous persons had essayed to
found a mission-colony under the protection of the Holy Virgin; and
we left the adventurers, after their landing, bivouacked on the
shore, on an evening in May. There was an altar in the open air,
decorated with a taste that betokened no less of good nurture than
of piety; and around it clustered the tents that sheltered the
commandant, Maisonneuve, the two ladies, Madame de la Peltrie and
Mademoiselle Mance, and the soldiers and laborers of the expedition.
In the morning they all fell to their work, Maisonneuve hewing down
the first tree,--and labored with such good-will, that their tents
were soon inclosed with a strong palisade, and their altar covered
by a provisional chapel, built, in the Huron mode, of bark. Soon
afterward, their canvas habitations were supplanted by solid
structures of wood, and the feeble germ of a future city began to
take root.
The Iroquois had not yet found them out; nor did they discover them
till they had had ample time to fortify themselves. Meanwhile, on a
Sunday, they would stroll at their leisure over the adjacent meadow
and in the shade of the bordering forest, where, as the old
chronicler tells us, the grass was gay with wild-flowers, and the
branches with the flutter and song of many strange birds. [Dollier
de Casson, MS.]
The day of the Assumption of the Virgin was celebrated with
befitting solemnity. There was mass in their bark chapel; then a Te
Deum; then public instruction of certain Indians who chanced to be
at Montreal; then a procession of all the colonists after vespers,
to the admiration of the redskinned beholders. Cannon, too, were
fired, in honor of their celestial patroness. "Their thunder made
all the island echo," writes Father Vimont; "and the demons, though
used to thunderbolts, were scared at a noise which told them of the
love we bear our great Mistress; and I have scarcely any doubt that
the tutelary angels of the savages of New France have marked this
day in the calendar of Paradise." [Vimont, Relation, 1642, 38.
Compare Le Clerc, Premier Etablissement de la Foy, II. 51.]
The summer passed prosperously, but with the winter their faith was
put to a rude test. In December, there was a rise of the St.
Lawrence, threatening to sweep away in a night the results of all
their labor. They fell to their prayers; and Maisonneuve planted a
wooden cross in face of the advancing deluge, first making a vow,
that, should the peril be averted, he, Maisonneuve, would bear
another cross on his shoulders up the neighboring mountain, and
place it on the summit. The vow seemed in vain. The flood still
rose, filled the fort ditch, swept the foot of the palisade, and
threatened to sap the magazine; but here it stopped, and presently
began to recede, till at length it had withdrawn within its lawful
channel, and Villemarie was safe.
| [A little MS. map in M. Jacques Viger's copy of Le
Petit Registre de la Cure de Montreal, lays down the
position and shape of the fort at this time, and shows
the spot where Maisonneuve planted the cross.] |
Now it remained to fulfil the promise from which such happy
results had proceeded. Maisonneuve set his men at work to clear a
path through the forest to the top of the mountain. A large cross
was made, and solemnly blessed by the priest; then, on the sixth of
January, the Jesuit Du Peron led the way, followed in procession by
Madame de la Peltrie, the artisans, and soldiers, to the destined
spot. The commandant, who with all the ceremonies of the Church had
been declared First Soldier of the Cross, walked behind the rest,
bearing on his shoulder a cross so heavy that it needed his utmost
strength to climb the steep and rugged path. They planted it on the
highest crest, and all knelt in adoration before it. Du Peron said
mass; and Madame de la Peltrie, always romantic and always devout,
received the sacrament on the mountain-top, a spectacle to the
virgin world outstretched below. Sundry relics of saints had been
set in the wood of the cross, which remained an object of pilgrimage
to the pious colonists of Villemarie. [Vimont, Relation, 1643, 52,
53.]
Peace and harmony reigned within the little fort; and so edifying
was the demeanor of the colonists, so faithful were they to the
confessional, and so constant at mass, that a chronicler of the day
exclaims, in a burst of enthusiasm, that the deserts lately a resort
of demons were now the abode of angels. [Véritables Motifs, cited by
Faillon, I. 453, 454.] The two Jesuits who for the time were their
pastors had them well in hand. They dwelt under the same roof with
most of their flock, who lived in community, in one large house, and
vied with each other in zeal for the honor of the Virgin and the
conversion of the Indians.
At the end of August, 1643, a vessel arrived at Villemarie with a
reinforcement commanded by Louis d'Ailleboust de Coulonges, a pious
gentleman of Champagne, and one of the Associates of Montreal. [Chaulmer,
101; Juchereau, 91.] Some years before, he had asked in wedlock the
hand of Barbe de Boulogne; but the young lady had, when a child, in
the ardor of her piety, taken a vow of perpetual chastity. By the
advice of her Jesuit confessor, she accepted his suit, on condition
that she should preserve, to the hour of her death, the state to
which Holy Church has always ascribed a peculiar merit.1
D'Ailleboust married her; and when, soon after, he conceived the
purpose of devoting his life to the work of the Faith in Canada, he
invited his maiden spouse to go with him. She refused, and forbade
him to mention the subject again. Her health was indifferent, and
about this time she fell ill. As a last resort, she made a promise
to God, that, if He would restore her, she would go to Canada with
her husband; and forthwith her maladies ceased. Still her reluctance
continued; she hesitated, and then refused again, when an inward
light revealed to her that it was her duty to cast her lot in the
wilderness. She accordingly embarked with d'Ailleboust, accompanied
by her sister, Mademoiselle Philippine de Boulogne, who had caught
the contagion of her zeal. The presence of these damsels would, to
all appearance, be rather a burden than a profit to the colonists,
beset as they then were by Indians, and often in peril of
starvation; but the spectacle of their ardor, as disinterested as it
was extravagant, would serve to exalt the religious enthusiasm in
which alone was the life of Villemarie.
Their vessel passed in safety the Iroquois who watched the St.
Lawrence, and its arrival filled the colonists with joy.
D'Ailleboust was a skilful soldier, specially versed in the arts of
fortification; and, under his direction, the frail palisades which
formed their sole defense were replaced by solid ramparts and
bastions of earth. He brought news that the "unknown benefactress,"
as a certain generous member of the Association of Montreal was
called, in ignorance of her name, had given funds, to the amount, as
afterwards appeared, of forty-two thousand livres, for the building
of a hospital at Villemarie. [Archives du Séminaire de Villemarie,
cited by Faillon, I. 466. The amount of the gift was not declared
until the next year.] The source of the gift was kept secret, from a
religious motive; but it soon became known that it proceeded from
Madame de Bullion, a lady whose rank and wealth were exceeded only
by her devotion. It is true that the hospital was not wanted, as no
one was sick at Villemarie and one or two chambers would have
sufficed for every prospective necessity; but it will be remembered
that the colony had been established in order that a hospital might
be built, and Madame de Bullion would not hear to any other
application of her money. [Mademoiselle Mance wrote to her, to urge
that the money should be devoted to the Huron mission; but she
absolutely refused. Dollier de Casson, MS.] Instead, therefore, of
tilling the land to supply their own pressing needs, all the
laborers of the settlement were set at this pious, though
superfluous, task.2 There was no room in
the fort, which, moreover, was in danger of inundation; and the
hospital was accordingly built on higher ground adjacent. To leave
it unprotected would be to abandon its inmates to the Iroquois; it
was therefore surrounded by a strong palisade, and, in time of
danger, a part of the garrison was detailed to defend it. Here
Mademoiselle Mance took up her abode, and waited the day when wounds
or disease should bring patients to her empty wards.
Dauversière, who had first conceived this plan of a hospital in the
wilderness, was a senseless enthusiast, who rejected as a sin every
protest of reason against the dreams which governed him; yet one
rational and practical element entered into the motives of those who
carried the plan into execution. The hospital was intended not only
to nurse sick Frenchmen, but to nurse and convert sick Indians; in
other words, it was an engine of the mission.
From Maisonneuve to the humblest laborer, these zealous colonists
were bent on the work of conversion. To that end, the ladies made
pilgrimages to the cross on the mountain, sometimes for nine days in
succession, to pray God to gather the heathen into His fold. The
fatigue was great; nor was the danger less; and armed men always
escorted them, as a precaution against the Iroquois. [Morin, Annales
de l'Hôtel-Dieu de St. Joseph, MS., cited by Faillon, I. 457.] The
male colonists were equally fervent; and sometimes as many as
fifteen or sixteen persons would kneel at once before the cross,
with the same charitable petition. [Marguerite Bourgeoys, Écrits
Autographes, MS., extracts in Faillon, I. 458.] The ardor of their
zeal may be inferred from the fact, that these pious expeditions
consumed the greater part of the day, when time and labor were of a
value past reckoning to the little colony. Besides their
pilgrimages, they used other means, and very efficient ones, to
attract and gain over the Indians. They housed, fed, and clothed
them at every opportunity; and though they were subsisting chiefly
on provisions brought at great cost from France, there was always a
portion for the hungry savages who from time to time encamped near
their fort. If they could persuade any of them to be nursed, they
were consigned to the tender care of Mademoiselle Mance; and if a
party went to war, their women and children were taken in charge
till their return. As this attention to their bodies had for its
object the profit of their souls, it was accompanied with incessant
catechizing. This, with the other influences of the place, had its
effect; and some notable conversions were made. Among them was that
of the renowned chief, Tessouat, or Le Borgne, as the French called
him,--a crafty and intractable savage, whom, to their own surprise,
they succeeded in taming and winning to the Faith. [Vimont,
Relation, 1643, 54, 55. Tessouat was chief of Allumette Island, in
the Ottawa. His predecessor, of the same name, was Champlain's host
in 1613.--See "Pioneers of France," Chap. XII.] He was christened
with the name of Paul, and his squaw with that of Madeleine.
Maisonneuve rewarded him with a gun, and celebrated the day by a
feast to all the Indians present.
| [It was the usual practice to give guns to converts,
"pour attirer leur compatriotes à la Foy." They were
never given to heathen Indians. "It seems," observes
Vimont, "that our Lord wishes to make use of this method
in order that Christianity may become acceptable in this
country."--Relation, 1643, 71.] |
The French hoped to form an agricultural settlement of Indians in
the neighborhood of Villemarie; and they spared no exertion to this
end, giving them tools, and aiding them to till the fields. They
might have succeeded, but for that pest of the wilderness, the
Iroquois, who hovered about them, harassed them with petty attacks,
and again and again drove the Algonquins in terror from their camps.
Some time had elapsed, as we have seen, before the Iroquois
discovered Villemarie; but at length ten fugitive Algonquins, chased
by a party of them, made for the friendly settlement as a safe
asylum; and thus their astonished pursuers became aware of its
existence. They reconnoitred the place, and went back to their towns
with the news. [Dollier de Casson, MS.] From that time forth the
colonists had no peace; no more excursions for fishing and hunting;
no more Sunday strolls in woods and meadows. The men went armed to
their work, and returned at the sound of a bell, marching in a
compact body, prepared for an attack.
Early in June, 1643, sixty Huron came down in canoes for traffic,
and, on reaching the place now called Lachine, at the head of the
rapids of St. Louis, and a few miles above Villemarie, they were
amazed at finding a large Iroquois war-party in a fort hastily built
of the trunks and boughs of trees. Surprise and fright seem to have
infatuated them. They neither fought nor fled, but greeted their
inveterate foes as if they were friends and allies, and, to gain
their good graces, told them all they knew of the French settlement,
urging them to attack it, and promising an easy victory.
Accordingly, the Iroquois detached forty of their warriors, who
surprised six Frenchmen at work hewing timber within a gunshot of
the fort, killed three of them, took the remaining three prisoners,
and returned in triumph. The captives were bound with the usual
rigor; and the Huron taunted and insulted them, to please their
dangerous companions. Their baseness availed them little; for at
night, after a feast of victory, when the Huron were asleep or off
their guard, their entertainers fell upon them, and killed or
captured the greater part. The rest ran for Villemarie, where, as
their treachery was as yet unknown, they were received with great
kindness.
[I have followed Dollier de Casson. Vimont's account
is different. He says that the Iroquois fell upon the
Hurons at the outset, and took twenty-three prisoners,
killing many others; after which they made the attack at
Villemarie.--Relation, 1643, 62.
Faillon thinks that Vimont was unwilling to publish the
treachery of the Hurons, lest the interests of the Huron
mission should suffer in consequence.
Belmont, Histoire du Canada, 1643, confirms the account
of the Huron treachery.] |
The next morning the Iroquois decamped, carrying with them their
prisoners, and the furs plundered from the Huron canoes. They had
taken also, and probably destroyed, all the letters from the
missionaries in the Huron country, as well as a copy of their
Relation of the preceding year. Of the three French prisoners, one
escaped and reached Montreal; the remaining two were burned alive.
At Villemarie it was usually dangerous to pass beyond the ditch of
the fort or the palisades of the hospital. Sometimes a solitary
warrior would lie hidden for days, without sleep and almost without
food, behind a log in the forest, or in a dense thicket, watching
like a lynx for some rash straggler. Sometimes parties of a hundred
or more made ambuscades near by, and sent a few of their number to
lure out the soldiers by a petty attack and a flight. The danger was
much diminished, however, when the colonists received from France a
number of dogs, which proved most efficient sentinels and scouts. Of
the instinct of these animals the writers of the time speak with
astonishment. Chief among them was a bitch named Pilot, who every
morning made the rounds of the forests and fields about the fort,
followed by a troop of her offspring. If one of them lagged behind,
she hit him to remind him of his duty; and if any skulked and ran
home, she punished them severely in the same manner on her return.
When she discovered the Iroquois, which she was sure to do by the
scents if any were near, she barked furiously, and ran at once
straight to the fort, followed by the rest. The Jesuit chronicler
adds, with an amusing naïveté, that, while this was her duty, "her
natural inclination was for hunting squirrels."
| [Lalemant, Relation, 1647, 74, 75. "Son attrait
naturel estoit la chasse aux écurieux." Dollier de
Casson also speaks admiringly of her and her instinct.
Faillon sees in it a manifest proof of the protecting
care of God over Villemarie.] |
Maisonneuve was as brave a knight of the cross as ever fought in
Palestine for the sepulchre of Christ; but he could temper his valor
with discretion. He knew that he and his soldiers were but
indifferent woodsmen; that their crafty foe had no equal in
ambuscades and surprises; and that, while a defeat might ruin the
French, it would only exasperate an enemy whose resources in men
were incomparably greater. Therefore, when the dogs sounded the
alarm, he kept his followers close, and stood patiently on the
defensive. They chafed under this Fabian policy, and at length
imputed it to cowardice. Their murmurings grew louder, till they
reached the ear of Maisonneuve. The religion which animated him had
not destroyed the soldierly pride which takes root so readily and so
strongly in a manly nature; and an imputation of cowardice from his
own soldiers stung him to the quick. He saw, too, that such an
opinion of him must needs weaken his authority, and impair the
discipline essential to the safety of the colony.
On the morning of the thirtieth of March, Pilot was heard barking
with unusual fury in the forest eastward from the fort; and in a few
moments they saw her running over the clearing, where the snow was
still deep, followed by her brood, all giving tongue together. The
excited Frenchmen flocked about their commander.
"Monsieur, les ennemis sont dans le bois; ne les irons-nous jamais
voir?" [Dollier de Casson, MS.]
Maisonneuve, habitually composed and calm, answered sharply,--
"Yes, you shall see the enemy. Get yourselves ready at once, and
take care that you are as brave as you profess to be. I shall lead
you myself."
All was bustle in the fort. Guns were loaded, pouches filled, and
snow-shoes tied on by those who had them and knew how to use them.
There were not enough, however, and many were forced to go without
them. When all was ready, Maisonneuve sallied forth at the head of
thirty men, leaving d'Ailleboust, with the remainder, to hold the
fort. They crossed the snowy clearing and entered the forest, where
all was silent as the grave. They pushed on, wading through the deep
snow, with the countless pitfalls hidden beneath it, when suddenly
they were greeted with the screeches of eighty Iroquois,3
who sprang up from their lurking-places, and showered bullets and
arrows upon the advancing French. The emergency called, not for
chivalry, but for woodcraft; and Maisonneuve ordered his men to take
shelter, like their assailants, behind trees. They stood their
ground resolutely for a long time; but the Iroquois pressed them
close, three of their number were killed, others were wounded, and
their ammunition began to fail. Their only alternatives were
destruction or retreat; and to retreat was not easy. The order was
given. Though steady at first, the men soon became confused, and
over-eager to escape the galling fire which the Iroquois sent after
them. Maisonneuve directed them towards a sledge-track which had
been used in dragging timber for building the hospital, and where
the snow was firm beneath the foot. He himself remained to the last,
encouraging his followers and aiding the wounded to escape. The
French, as they struggled through the snow, faced about from time to
time, and fired back to check the pursuit; but no sooner had they
reached the sledge-track than they gave way to their terror, and ran
in a body for the fort. Those within, seeing this confused rush of
men from the distance, mistook them for the enemy; and an
over-zealous soldier touched the match to a cannon which had been
pointed to rake the sledge-track. Had not the piece missed fire,
from dampness of the priming, he would have done more execution at
one shot than the Iroquois in all the fight of that morning.
Maisonneuve was left alone, retreating backwards down the track, and
holding his pursuers in check, with a pistol in each hand. They
might easily have shot him; but, recognizing him as the commander of
the French, they were bent on taking him alive. Their chief coveted
this honor for himself, and his followers held aloof to give him the
opportunity. He pressed close upon Maisonneuve, who snapped a pistol
at him, which missed fire. The Iroquois, who had ducked to avoid the
shot, rose erect, and sprang forward to seize him, when Maisonneuve,
with his remaining pistol, shot him dead. Then ensued a curious
spectacle, not infrequent in Indian battles. The Iroquois seemed to
forget their enemy, in their anxiety to secure and carry off the
body of their chief; and the French commander continued his retreat
unmolested, till he was safe under the cannon of the fort. From that
day, he was a hero in the eyes of his men.
[Dollier de Casson, MS. Vimont's mention of the
affair is brief. He says that two Frenchmen were made
prisoners, and burned. Belmont, Histoire du Canada,
1645, gives a succinct account of the fight, and
indicates the scene of it. It seems to have been a
little below the site of the Place d'Armes, on which
stands the great Parish Church of Villemarie, commonly
known to tourists as the "Cathedral." Faillon thinks
that Maisonneuve's exploit was achieved on this very
spot.
Marguerite Bourgeoys also describes the affair in her
unpublished writings.] |
Quebec and Montreal are happy in their founders. Samuel de
Champlain and Chomedey de Maisonneuve are among the names that shine
with a fair and honest luster on the infancy of nations.
1 Juchereau, Histoire de l'Hôtel-Dieu de Québec,
276. The confessor told D'Ailleboust, that, if he persuaded his wife
to break her vow of continence, "God would chastise him terribly."
The nun historian adds, that, undeterred by the menace, he tried and
failed.
2 Journal des Supérieurs des Jésuites, MS.
The hospital was sixty feet long and twenty-four feet wide, with a
kitchen, a chamber for Mademoiselle Mance, others for servants, and
two large apartments for the patients. It was amply provided with
furniture, linen, medicines, and all necessaries; and had also two
oxen, three cows, and twenty sheep. A small oratory of stone was
built adjoining it. The inclosure was four arpents in
extent.--Archives du Séminaire de Villemarie, cited by Faillon.
3 Vimont, Relation, 1644, 42. Dollier de Casson
says two hundred, but it is usually safe in these cases to accept
the smaller number, and Vimont founds his statement on the
information of an escaped prisoner.
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The Jesuits in North America in the Seventeenth Century, 1867
Jesuits
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