Columbus and Other Heroes of American Discovery

by N. D'Anvers

ISLANDS AT THE MOUTH OF THE ST. LAWRENCE RIVER.

From the Isle d’Orleans the French vessel sailed on, past the mouth of the St. Croix, now the St. Charles, to the village of Stadacona, on the site of the modern Quebec; thence, undeterred by various stratagems of the natives, intended to intimidate the explorers, to the more important town of Hochelaga, where Montreal now stands; and then past Huron, a settlement of some fifty huts, inclosed within a triple barrier of palisades.

Landing at Hochelaga, among crowds of gesticulating natives, Cartier and his chief followers were led into the public square, where they were at once beset by women and girls, who brought children in their arms to be touched by the white men from beyond the sea. In the center of the square lay the king of the land, Agouhanna, a martyr to the terrible disease of paralysis. Looking up into the face of his visitor, the monarch, with pathetic confidence in his omnipotence, begged that he might be freed from his sufferings; and Cartier, touched by the appeal, kneeled down and rubbed the poor shrunken limbs of the sufferer, receiving in return for the momentary relief thus afforded a present of the royal sufferer’s own crown of porcupine quills.

The ready help given to their leader was the signal for the bringing into the market-place by the natives of all the lame, halt, blind, and aged; and Cartier, finding himself the center of an eager group, could think of nothing better to do than to pray for them all, so he read them a chapter from the Bible, and then kneeled down and addressed a petition to Heaven on their behalf in his own language, the Indians imitating every gesture, under the idea that some magic spell was being performed. We can imagine their disappointment when no immediate result ensued from the ceremony; and we are glad that the explorer showed so much consideration for their ignorance as to distribute presents of knives, beads, rings, etc., among them, which, we are told, they received with joy.

This town of Hochelaga, which is so prominent in Cartier’s narrative, disappeared from history soon after his day; whether it was annihilated under the attack of some rival tribe, or destroyed through some tremendous physical convulsion, history does not tell us. But its name has been revived, and invested with a new interest, in our day; for the geologist—as truly an explorer as the geographer—has been busy upon the site of the ancient town, and has discovered many valuable remains of its strange, forgotten life, which confirm and complete the account given by Cartier. Principal Dawson, of Montreal, in his book on Fossil Men, tells us that he has in his possession from 150 to 200 fragments of earthen vessels found upon the spot where Hochelaga stood; and there is abundant evidence to prove that its inhabitants were people of no mean mechanical skill. For instance, traces have been found of pots, in the necks of which are appliances for suspending them, so that the suspending cord might not be burned. Various relics testify also to their artistic feeling, most notable among which are tobacco-pipes, upon which much fine work must have been spent; their peculiar attention to the pipe being perhaps traceable rather to their reverence for the worship in which it had an important place, than to the lighter fancy which dotes upon meerschaums now-a-days. Their food was that which their surroundings provided; and Dr. Dawson says that, among the remains excavated, bones of nearly all the wild mammals have been found, as well as of numerous birds and fishes. Suspicions of cannibalism are roused by the discovery of part of a woman’s jaw among kitchen refuse; and these are, perhaps, increased by the fact that the Hochelagan skulls which have been discovered bespeak a temperament undoubtedly fierce and cruel; but on this point there is nothing to lead to certain conclusions. It might be interesting to follow out this wonderful story of Hochelagan life further, but to do so here would be aside from the purpose of this chapter, and we therefore content ourselves with adding, that there are not wanting traces of a religious sense, simple and rude it may be, but real and even beautiful, among the Canadians of Cartier’s day; while the tokens which accompany the dead are such as to show that the hope of immortality had shed its soft light upon their hearts.

MONTREAL.

Naming a hill overlooking Hochelaga Mont Royal—hence the modern name of Montreal—in memory of his visit, Cartier soon returned to the mouth of the St. Charles, where he established his winter quarters and remained until the spring, when, having invited Donnacona and nine other natives on board his vessel, he set sail for France, carrying them with him. All but one little girl died soon after the arrival of the fleet at St. Malo, in July, 1536; but their captain considered he had more than repaid them for their sufferings by their admission into the Roman Catholic Church before the end, and was undeterred by any fear of vengeance for his cruelty to them from undertaking, in 1540, yet another trip to Canada, as the new country was now beginning to be called.

The new expedition consisted of five vessels, and was originally placed under the command of Jean François de la Roque, Seigneur de Roberval of Picardy; but at the last moment, for reasons variously given, he requested Cartier to take his place. Arrived for a third time at his old anchorage off Stadacona, Cartier was at first well received by the natives, who expected now to welcome back their chief and his warriors; but when they heard that they were dead, grief and horror filled their hearts. No longer were they willing to look upon the white men as their brethren, or to aid their settlement among them; and though no open hostilities were resorted to, Cartier found his position throughout the winter so very far from pleasant, that he set sail for France as soon as the weather permitted, meeting De Roberval with reinforcements for the colony—which ought to have been founded—in the harbor of St. John’s, Newfoundland.

The Sieur de Roberval, indignant at the failure of his deputy, ordered him to return to the St. Lawrence at once, but Cartier continued his course to his native land in the night, leaving the original commander of the expedition to complete his work as best he could. The new-comers sailed up the St. Lawrence as far as the St. Charles, but De Roberval was almost immediately recalled to France to aid his sovereign in his struggle with Charles V.; and though he left thirty of his men behind him, they failed to gain any real foothold in the country, and returned home in the ensuing spring, some say under the escort of Cartier himself, who was sent to their relief.