II.—FIRST CONNECTED SKETCH PUBLISHED OF THE LIFE AND EXPLORATION OF NICOLET.[133]
[Du Creux states that, in the last months of 1642, New France mourned for two men of no common character, who were snatched away from her; that one of them, who died first, of disease, was a member of the Society of Jesuits; and that the other, although a layman, was distinguished by singularly meritorious acts towards the Indian tribes of Canada. He sketches briefly the career and character of Father Raymbault, the Jesuit, first referred to, who died at Quebec in the latter part of October. The second person alluded to was Nicolet. Of him he gives the following account:]
"He had spent twenty-five years in New France, and had always been a useful person. On his first arrival, by orders of those who presided over the French colony of Quebec, he spent two whole years among the Algonquins of the Island, for the purpose of learning their language, without any Frenchman as a companion, and in the midst of those hardships, which may be readily conceived, if we will reflect what it must be to pass severe winters in the woods, under a covering of cedar or birch bark; to have one's means of subsistence dependent upon hunting; to be perpetually hearing rude outcries; to be deprived of the pleasant society of one's own people; and to be constantly exposed, not only to derision and insulting words, but even to daily peril of life. There was a time, indeed, when he went without food for a whole week; and (what is really wonderful) he even spent seven weeks without having any thing to eat but a little bark. After this preliminary training[134] was completed, being sent with four hundred Algonquins to the Iroquois to treat of peace, he performed his mission successfully. Soon after, he went to the Nipissiriens, and spent seven years with them, as an adopted member of their tribe. He had his own small estate, wigwam, and household stuff, implements for hunting and fishing, and, no doubt, his own beaver skins, with the same right of trade as the rest; in a word, he was taken into their counsels; until, being recalled, by the rulers of the French colony, he was at the same time made a commissary and charged to perform the office of an interpreter.
"During this period, at the command of the same rulers, he had to make an excursion to certain maritime tribes, for the purpose of securing peace between them and the Hurons. The region where those peoples dwell is nearly three hundred leagues distant, toward the west, from the same Hurons; and after he had associated himself with seven ambassadors of these [i.e., of the Hurons], having saluted on their route various small nations which they fell in with, and having propitiated them with gifts—lest, if they should omit this, they might be regarded as enemies, and assailed by all whom they met—when he was two days distant, he sent forward one of his own company to make known to the nation to which they were going, that a European ambassador was approaching with gifts, who, in behalf of the Hurons, desired to secure their friendship. The embassy was received with applause; young men were immediately sent to meet them, who were to carry the baggage and equipment of the Manitouriniou (or wonderful man), and escort him with honor. Nicolet was clad in a Chinese robe of silk, skillfully ornamented with birds and flowers of many colors; he carried in each hand a small pistol.[135] When he had discharged these, the more timid persons, boys and women betook themselves to flight, to escape as quickly as possible from a man who (they said) carried the thunder in both his hands. But, the rumor of his coming having spread far and wide, the chiefs, with their followers, assembled directly to the number of four or five thousand persons; and, the matter having been discussed and considered in a general council, a treaty was made in due form. Afterwards each of the chiefs gave a banquet after their fashion; and at one of these, strange to say, a hundred and twenty beavers were eaten.
"His object being accomplished, Nicolet returned to the Hurons, and, presently, to Three Rivers, and resumed both of his former functions, viz., as commissary and interpreter, being singularly beloved by both the French and the natives; specially intent upon this, that, uniting his industry, and the very great influence which he possessed over the savages, with the efforts of the fathers of the Society [Jesuits], he might bring as many as he could to the Church; until, upon the recall to France of Olivier, who was the chief commissary of Quebec, Nicolet, on account of his merits, was appointed in his place. But he was not long allowed to enjoy the Christian comfort he had so greatly desired, viz., that at Quebec he might frequently attend upon the sacraments as his pious soul desired, and that he might enjoy the society of those with whom he could converse upon divine things.
"On the last day of October, having embarked upon a pinnace at the seventh hour of the afternoon (as we French reckon the hours), i.e., just as the shades of evening were falling, hastening, as I have said, to Three Rivers upon so pious an errand, scarcely had he arrived in sight of Sillery, when, the north wind blowing more fiercely and increasing the violence of the storm which had commenced before Nicolet started,[136] the pinnace was whirled around two or three times, filled with water from all directions, and finally was swallowed up by the waves. Some of those on board escaped, among them Savigny, the owner of the pinnace; and Nicolet, in that time of extreme peril, addressing him calmly said: "Savigny, since you know how to swim, by all means consult your own safety; I, who have no such skill, am going to God; I recommend my wife and daughter to your kindness." In the midst of this conversation, a wave separated them; Nicolet was drowned; Savigny, who, from horror and the darkness of the night, did not know where he was, was torn by the violence of the waves from the boat, to which he had clung for some time; then he struggled for a while, in swimming, with the hostile force of the changing waves; until, at last, his strength failing, and his courage almost forsaking him, he made a vow to God (but what it was is not related); then, striking the bottom of the stream with his foot, he reached the bank[137] at that spot, and, forcing his way with difficulty through the edge of the stream, already frozen, he crept, half dead, to the humble abode of the fathers. Restoratives were immediately applied, such as were at hand, especially fire, which was most needed; but, as the cold weather and the water had almost destroyed the natural warmth, he could only manifest his thoughts for some time by motions and not by speech, and so kept the minds of the anxious fathers in doubt of his meaning; until, recovering his speech, he explained what had happened with a strong expression of Nicolet's Christian courage.
"The prisoner for whose sake Nicolet had exposed himself to this deadly peril, twelve days afterwards reached Sillery, and soon after Quebec—having been rescued from the cruelty of the Algonquins by Rupæus, who was in command at Three Rivers, in pursuance of letters from Montmagny, on payment, no doubt, of a ransom. He was already disfigured with wounds, great numbers of which these most savage men had inflicted upon him with careful ingenuity, one after another, according to their custom; but in proportion to the barbarity which he had experienced at Three Rivers was the kindness which he afterwards met with at Quebec, where he was treated by the monks of the hospital in such a manner that he was healed within about twenty days, and was able to return to his own people....
"This, moreover, was not the first occasion on which Nicolet had encountered peril of his life for the safety of savages. He had frequently done the very same thing before, says the French writer; and to those with whom he associated he left proofs of his virtues by such deeds as could hardly be expected of a man entangled in the bonds of marriage; they were indeed eminent, and rose to the height of apostolic perfection; and, therefore, was the loss of so great a man the more grievous. Certain it is that the savages themselves, as soon as they heard what had befallen him, surrounded the bank of the great river in crowds, to see whether they could render any aid. When all hope of that was gone, they did what alone remained in their power, by incredible manifestations of grief and lamentation at the sad fate of the man who had deserved so well of them."