The Founder of New France: A Chronicle of Champlain

by Charles W. Colby

He reported to me, on his return to Paris in 1612, that he had seen the North Sea; that the river of the Algonquins [the Ottawa] came from a lake which emptied into it; and that in seventeen days one could go from the Falls of St Louis to this sea and back again; that he had seen the wreck and débris of an English ship that had been wrecked, on board of which were eighty men who had escaped to the shore, and whom the savages killed because the English endeavoured to take from them by force their Indian corn and other necessaries of life; and that he had seen the scalps which these savages had flayed off, according to their custom, which they would show me, and that they would likewise give me an English boy whom they had kept for me. This intelligence greatly pleased me, for I thought that I had almost found that for which I had for a long time been searching.

Champlain makes it clear that he did not credit Vignau's tale with the simple credulity of a man who has never been to sea. He caused Vignau to swear to its truth at La Rochelle before two notaries. He stipulated that Vignau should go with him over the whole route. Finally, as they were on the point of sailing together for Canada in the spring of 1613, he once more adjured Vignau in the presence of distinguished witnesses, saying 'that if what he had previously said was not true, he must not give me the trouble to undertake the journey, which involved many dangers. Again he affirmed all that he had said, on peril of his life.'

After taking these multiplied precautions against deceit, Champlain left the Sault St Louis on May 29, 1613, attended by four Frenchmen and one Indian, with Vignau for guide. Ascending the Ottawa, they encountered their first difficulties at the Long Sault, where Dollard forty-seven years later was to lose his life so gloriously. Here the passage of the rapids was both fatiguing and dangerous. Prevented by the density of the wood from making a portage, they were forced to drag their canoes through the water. In one of the eddies Champlain nearly lost his life, and his hand was severely hurt by a sudden jerk of the rope. Having mounted the rapids, he met with no very trying obstacle until he had gone some distance past the Chaudière Falls. His reference to the course of the Gatineau makes no sense, and Laverdière has had recourse to the not improbable conjecture that the printer dropped out a whole line at this point. Champlain also over-estimates considerably the height of the Rideau Falls and is not very exact in his calculation of latitude.

The hardships of this journey were greatly and unnecessarily increased by Vignau, whose only hope was to discourage his leader. In the end it proved that 'our liar' (as Champlain repeatedly calls him) had hoped to secure a reward for his alleged discovery, believing that no one would follow him long, even if an attempt were made to confirm the accuracy of his report. But Champlain, undeterred by portages and mosquitoes, kept on. Some savages who joined him said that Vignau was a liar, and on their advice Champlain left the Ottawa a short distance above the mouth of the Madawaska. Holding westward at some distance from the south shore, he advanced past Muskrat Lake, and after a hard march came out again on the Ottawa at Lake Allumette.

This was the end of Champlain's route in 1613. From the Algonquins on Allumette Island he learned that Vignau had wintered with them at the time he swore he was discovering salt seas. Finally, the impostor confessed his fraud and, falling on his knees, asked for mercy. The Indians would gladly have killed him outright, but Champlain spared his life, though how deeply he was moved can be seen from these words: 'Overcome with wrath I had him removed, being unable to endure him any longer in my presence.' After his confession there was nothing for it but to return by the same route. An astrolabe found some years ago near Muskrat Lake may have been dropped from Champlain's luggage on the journey westward, though he does not mention the loss.

Apart from disclosing the course of the Ottawa, the Voyage of 1613 is chiefly notable for its account of Indian customs—for example, the mode of sepulture, the tabagie or feast, and the superstition which leads the Algonquins to throw pieces of tobacco into the cauldron of the Chaudière Falls as a means of ensuring protection against their enemies. Of the feast given him by Tessouät, an Algonquin chief, Champlain says:

The next day all the guests came, each with his porringer and wooden spoon. They seated themselves without order or ceremony on the ground in the cabin of Tessouät, who distributed to them a kind of broth made of maize crushed between two stones, together with meat and fish which was cut into little pieces, the whole being boiled together without salt. They also had meat roasted on the coals and fish boiled apart, which he also distributed. In respect to myself, as I did not wish any of their chowder, which they prepare in a very dirty manner, I asked them for some fish and meat, that I might prepare it my own way, which they gave me. For drink we had fine, clear water. Tessouät, who gave the tabagie, entertained us without eating himself, according to their custom.

The tabagie being over, the young men, who are not present at the harangues and councils, and who during the tabagie remain at the door of the cabins, withdrew, when all who remained began to fill their pipes, one and another offering me one. We then spent a full half-hour in this occupation, not a word being spoken, as is their custom.

But for the dexterous arrangement by which Champlain managed to cook his own food, the tabagie would have been more dangerous to health than the portage. In any case, it was an ordeal that could not be avoided, for feasting meant friendly intercourse, and only through friendly intercourse could Champlain gain knowledge of that vast wilderness which he must pierce before reaching his long-sought goal, the sea beyond which lay China.