By Canadian Streams

by Lawrence J. Burpee

The next great event in the history of New France, after the founding of Quebec by Champlain, was the coming of the Jesuit missionaries; but though their headquarters were at Quebec, the field of their heroic labours was for the most part in what now constitute the Province of Ontario and the State of New York. Their story does not therefore touch directly upon the St. Lawrence, except in so far as that river was their road to and from the Iroquois towns and the country of the Hurons. Indeed, by the middle of the seventeenth century, the St. Lawrence had become the main thoroughfare of New France. A fort had been built at the mouth of the Richelieu, a small trading settlement existed at Three Rivers, and Maisonneuve had laid the foundations of Montreal. Between Quebec and these new centres of population there was more or less intercourse, and the river bore up and down the vessels of fur-trader and merchant, priest and soldier. The St. Lawrence was the highway of commerce, the path of the missionary, the road of war, and the one and only means of communication for the scattered colonists. Up stream came warlike expeditions against the troublesome Iroquois; and down stream came the Iroquois themselves, with increasing insolence, until they finally carried their raids down to the very walls of Quebec. The St. Lawrence was not safe travelling in those days, for white men or red.

During one of these forays, the Iroquois had captured two settlers, one Godefroy and François Marguerie, an interpreter, both of Three Rivers. When some months later the war party returned to attack Three Rivers, they brought the Frenchmen with them, and sent Marguerie to the commander of the fort with disgraceful terms. Marguerie urged his people to reject the offer, and then, keeping his pledged word even to savages, returned to face almost certain torture. Fortunately, reinforcements arrived from Quebec in the nick of time, and the Iroquois, finding themselves at a disadvantage, consented to the ransom of their prisoners.

In this same year, 1641, a little fleet which had set forth from Rochelle some weeks before dropped anchor at Quebec, and from the ships landed Paul de Chomedey, Sieur de Maisonneuve, with a party of enthusiasts destined to found a religious settlement on the island of Montreal. They were coldly received by the Governor and people of Quebec, who were too weak themselves to care to see the tide of population diverted to a new settlement far up the river. Maisonneuve, however, turned a deaf ear to all their arguments. "I have not come here," he said, "to deliberate, but to act. It is my duty and my honour to found a colony at Montreal; and I would go, if every tree were an Iroquois!"

In May of the following year the expedition set forth for Montreal. With Maisonneuve went two women, whose names were to be closely associated with the early history of Montreal--Jeanne Mance and Madame de la Peltrie. The Governor, Montmagny, making a virtue of necessity, also accompanied the expedition. A more willing companion was Father Vimont, Superior of the missions.

It was the seventeenth of the month when the odd little flotilla--a pinnace, a flat-bottomed craft driven by sails, and a couple of row-boats--approached their destination. The following day they landed at what was afterwards known as Point Callière. The scene is best described in the words of Parkman:

"Maisonneuve sprang ashore, and fell on his knees. His followers imitated his example; and all joined their voices in enthusiastic songs of thanksgiving. Tents, baggage, arms, and stores were landed. An altar was raised on a pleasant spot near at hand; and Mademoiselle Mance, with Madame de la Peltrie, aided by her servant, Charlotte Barré, decorated it with a taste which was the admiration of the beholders. Now all the company gathered before the shrine. Here stood Vimont, in the rich vestments of his office. Here were the two ladies with their servant; Montmagny, no very willing spectator; and Maisonneuve, a warlike figure, erect and tall, his men clustering around him--soldiers, sailors, artisans, and labourers--all alike soldiers at need. They kneeled in reverent silence as the Host was raised aloft; and when the rite was over, the priest turned and addressed them: 'You are a grain of mustard-seed, that shall rise and grow till its branches overshadow the earth. You are few, but your work is the work of God. His smile is on you, and your children shall fill the land.'

"The afternoon waned; the sun sank behind the western forest, and twilight came on. Fireflies were twinkling over the darkened meadow. They caught them, tied them with threads into shining festoons, and hung them before the altar, where the Host remained exposed. Then they pitched their tents, lighted their bivouac fires, stationed their guards, and lay down to rest. Such was the birth-night of Montreal."

Farther down the St. Lawrence, near the mouth of the Richelieu, stood the fortified home of the Seigneur de la Verchères. This little fort was from its position peculiarly exposed to the attacks of the Iroquois. Yet men must live, whatever the risks might be. Urgent business called the Seigneur to Quebec. Perhaps nothing had been seen or heard of the dreaded scourge in the neighbourhood for some time. At any rate, whether from a sense of fancied security, or from necessity which must sometimes ignore danger, most of the men were working in the fields, at some distance from the fort. Suddenly there was a cry, "The Iroquois!" Madeleine, the fourteen-year-old daughter of the Seigneur, was at the gate. She called in some women who were near at hand, and barred the entrance. Two soldiers were in the fort, but they were paralysed with fear. Madeleine took charge, shamed the soldiers into at least a semblance of manhood, set every one to work to repair the defences, and set up dummies upon the walls to deceive the Indians into the belief that the fort was well garrisoned. She armed her two young brothers, twelve and ten years of age, and an old man of eighty, and carried out the deception by a ceaseless patrol throughout the night.

Meanwhile the men in the fields had escaped, and were on their way to Montreal for assistance. But Montreal was far off in those days, and the relief was slow in coming. The next day, and the next, Madeleine, by her own heroic will, kept up the spirits of her little garrison, and they made such good use of their guns that the Iroquois dared not come to close quarters. When day followed day without the appearance of the hoped-for succour, the plucky girl had to struggle with desperate energy to maintain the defence. She herself took no rest, but went from place to place, cheering the flagging spirits of her brothers, and foiling the enemy at every turn. At last, when a full week had gone by, the relief party arrived from Montreal, and at their appearance the Iroquois hastily withdrew. The men had expected to find the fort in ruins; they were agreeably surprised to find all safe; but their amazement knew no bounds when the gate was opened and they discovered what manner of garrison it was that had held at bay for a week a strong party of the ferocious Iroquois.

One might fill many pages with such stories as these, for the early history of the Great River of Canada, and of the settlements that grew up along its banks, is packed with romantic incidents and dramatic situations. These must, however, be left to other hands if we are to find space for the stories of other Canadian streams.